Las Leñas 1

Damn I hate Spanish keyboards.

Anyways, the hosteria I´m staying in doesn´t serve breakfast until 8am, the same time my shuttle to Las Leñas arrives. I stopped by the local supermarket, Super VEA (think a smaller, cleaner Superstore) and picked up some bread, ham, and cheese. (A breakfast I became very familiar with in Amsterdam a little over a decade ago.)

I was the second stop for the shuttle, a couple from Missoula, Montana, preceded me. Next, an engineer for K2 (hardcore mountaineer skier, ice climber, etc.) and finally an Argentinian couple.

80 kilometers away and about an hour later, we pulled into the main bus/shuttle service lot for Las Leñas. There are at least 10 different "hotels" at the base of the mountain. I made my way to boleteria for my lift tickets. (I am quite certain there are differences in the Spanish spoken here versus Mexico and Spain.) The lift ticket I got was a bit larger than a standard credit card and with no barcode. The lifties ask to see it at the base of the few keys lifts but that´s about it. Unfortunately they don´t have trail maps so I walked over to one of the large outdoor maps nearby. I located the trail the folks on the shuttle were discussing, Mates, and headed there. Two long dual chair rides brought me to the base of the Mates lift where a small group were waiting for the lift to open. About 15 minutes later we started riding up. My riding partner was a guy from Canmore who lives in Squamish. His jacket had a Telus and RBC logo; truly the last two things I expected to encounter on this mountain.

At the top, most folks went right, including the Telus guy, so I followed. Up until they all passed a ski "guard", guarding the entrance to an off bounds area where a number of folks had just passed. Some he stopped to sign a document but they weren´t paying him. I hesitated, and then began to hike back to the lift station, but then decided, "What the hell!" I strapped in and approached him. The were explicit liability forms, you signed one fully acknowledging the risk you were taking and waving any right to sue the resort should you die or agreeing to pay up to AR$5000 should they have to rescue you. Upon signing, I received an orange adhesive band and was on my way. I followed the tracks for what appeared to be a common route. It was challending as my back was quite irritated at lunch. My one majorly frustrating tragedy was the loss of my iPod nano after a heels-over-head wipeout in the powder. There was no way I´d be able to find that again. Back to riding silent again, ech!

I made one more run closer to the base before stopping for lunch, the trip up Martes and back down had taken nearly an hour and a half. Lunch was a leisurely affair as I hoped a bit of stretching would minimize some of the strain my lower back was feeling. It seemed to work as this time I went back up Martes and turned left this time. Fields of windblown but untouched powder. Woohoo!. I took a fairly leisurely final ride down and was back at the base for 4. A couple of beers and some people watching brought me to 5 and time to meet the shuttle again.

Back in town about 6:30 I dropped off my laundry, stopped in to the grocery store for a couple more items and then went for dinner. A simple but great chicken, beef, tomato, onion, and green pepper kebab. All washed down with an Andes, un cerveza blanca.

Two more ibuprofen to calm my twisted knee and then to bed.

The rest of the Buenos Aires entries will have to wait, there´s just too much to catch up easily here.

Goodnight, back tomorrow.