Into the Frozen Wasteland

Feeling comfortable with the altitude and our educational and geographic achievements, we left the forests and meadows behind and approached the mountains proper. Immense spires of rock pierced the sky, and in the valleys between them lay the vast fields of gelato we assumed we would find.

Our spirits were high and we joked about the different flavours we were likely to encounter. Rocky Road was a certainty.

The children were hoping for watermelon and melon.

With no need to carry food or water, we travelled light and the dogs made good progress up the hill with the sleds. They were a well-oiled machine by this stage; lean and hungry. Several days earlier they had pack-hunted and eaten an elderly native on her way home from market. It was the first protein they'd had since we abducted them. They were looking forward to the gelato as well.

There was a moment of panic when a giant mole sprang from it's lair and devoured Scourge (Tino), but Angel of Death (Dolce) took it out very effectively. We used its hide to make several pairs of stylish moleskin trousers (with zip-off legs), and processed the rest of it into sausages and tasty puppy treats, in case the dogs had designs on us.

The gelato-capped peaks of Mount Stupid and The Mighty Schnauzersnuzer soared above the trees.

Finally, the trees petered out and we found ourselves in a vast valley between two impressive peaks with flumes of melted gelato tumbling into them.

We set up base camp on a ridge and piled up some rocks for a windbreak. Hungry from our exertions, we took our spoons and wandered up the nearest valley to sample it's wares. A sign pointed out the various flavours and their calorific values.

The gelato was water-flavoured in the lower reaches, while up ahead it was evaporating quickly, affecting visibility. Lexie got cross and went back to base camp for a mole sausage and a nap.

As night closed in we resolved to rise early and make an attempt to cross the mountains before the gelato began to evaporate again. The dogs were alert to any further mole attacks. Lexie told stories of the giant moles she fought in year 9 at Brighton High School.

We wondered why there exists no specific word for melted or evaporated gelato, and amused ourselves by thinking of unique words for them. Something as basic as water and steam, but not waterlato and steamelato.

We settled on 'schmoosch' for molten gelato and 'schmog' for gaseous gelato.