Woke up this morning about 7:30 and dozed until about 8:10, suddenly becoming aware that my 8am wake up call hadn't arrived. No matter now. Showered and finished packing. I called Chris and Summer to confirm breakfast for 9. We agreed to meet in the lobby beforehand to stow our bags and get our comped lift ticket for the day. Over breakfast Chris visited the raspberry juice chiller with his water bottle one final time, successfully avoiding the ire of the Queen de Sur.
As we made our way to the ski school area to strap in, we noticed the much cooler temperature compared to yesterday. The snow today would be very crusty. We made our way to the top of Mirador but about halfway down decided to head to the Bajo Zero restaurant and let the skiers shave down some of the ice. After one beer and 2.5 hours of sitting in the sun, it appeared as though the conditions had improved.
Summer decided to camp on the snow patio while Chris and I ventured to Andes Express to ultimately brave the Tres Puntas Poma. From Cima Andes we took the wide, gentle curving Lazo run down to Base Ballica and the 1.6km Poma lift. I lost the first one but successfully hung on to the first one. The ride wasn't nearly as steep as the ski patrol we consulted a few days earlier had indicated. Like both Cima Mirador and Cima Andes, Cima Tres Puntas has its own unique perspective of the valleys. As we looked west, a significant and menacing front was quickly moving towards us from behind the Colorado resort. We had to get back to the top of Mirador and fast or we'd be stuck with flat light and possible whiteout conditions. We made it about halfway down when the light changed dramatically. We slowly made our way to another Poma from Base Ballicas that joined up with Retorno Alto and took us to Mirador. From Mirador back to Bajo Zero, the cloud front just kept getting darker and darker.
Having rounded up Summer, we made our way to the Vaiven chair, which took us back to hotel complex, before the low cloud moved in and the whiteout began. I've ridden in similar conditions and they're not fun. It's akin to riding by braille. Though in one way it's good because your sense of fear gets short-circuited when you can't see more than several meters in front of you. Despite all the frustration we've experienced, we did have 3.5 days of cloudless blue sky riding and acceptable snow.
Chris and Summer changed out of their gear. Their board bag supports two separate compartments for boards and clothes. Mine unfortunately has only one and the idea of putting a wet board in with my dry clothes just did not seem like a good idea. Since none of us had eaten lunch we headed back to the lounge whose outdoor patio we met on a few days earlier. This time the service was much, much better.
As we made our way back to the hotel where I would rendezvous with my driver, they ran in to theirs. We could all leave momentarily and avoid any effects of the storm front. The drive down wasn't nearly as bad, in part because with the low cloud you couldn't see in to the valley.
My hotel was a very pleasant oasis in the midst of the vibrant neighbourhood of Providencia in Santiago, just east of the Rio Mapocho. I checked in and got out of my boarding gear and took a nice long hot shower. I vegged in the room, waiting to see what, if anything, Chris and Summer wanted to do for dinner that night. Not surprisingly they were content to hang out at their hotel and were dead tired. I concurred and we agreed to touch base the next morning. I went downstairs to the small bistro, Cafetto, which flanks the hotel's entrance. I ordered a surprisingly spicy chacarero sandwich and a Kunstman Bock Negra. They both hit the spot. Not really in the mood to do much more than sleep, I headed back upstairs and zoned out on a mediocre cop movie starring Harrison Ford and Josh Harnett. The late night at the staff party and the four days of riding finally caught up with me; I was out by 10:30.
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