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.
29 August 2008
Valle Nevado 2+3 aside
I apologize if they were kind of rambling. I believe I may have come down with a very mild flu a couple days ago. Coughing and being achy peaked yesterday evening while I was writing.
28 August 2008
Valle Nevado 3
I'm not sure if it's because of the routine I've developed here, most recently to catch the shuttle to Las Leñas in the mornings back in Argentina, but I'm finding it very difficult to sleep much past 7:30am, regardless of when I go to sleep. I dozed a little bit more, but with more than an hour to kill before breakfast, I decided to catch up on the blog in the interim. (Ed. note: this really would be so much easier and timely if I'd had my laptop.)
I met up with Chris and Summer at 9:30 for a breakfast that we nursed until about 10:30. Chris once again filled up the water bottle with jugo de frambueses. We weren't sure if we'd encounter the wrath of the Mistress de Sur (the name of our Hotel's restaurant) but we escaped her ire this morning.
We returned to our rooms to change. When Chris called at 11 saying they'd be ready for 11:45, I was basically dressed and chose to make one quick run before meeting them. It was very warm today, probably in the 3 to 4 degrees above zero range. Today was going to be slushy. At the top of Mirador, the wind wasn't nearly as strong or as cold as the prior day but had clearly been scrubbing the mountain of any loose snow during the night. The Retorno Medio and Retorno Bajo runs were both hard packed, bordering on icy. I stored my board at the base of the hotel complex and went to meet Chris and Summer back at the Tres Puntas Hotel.
We made a few runs, noticing the the 4 to 5 degree change in temperature as you went from Base Prado at 2680m to the tops of Cima Mirador at 3300m and Cima Andes at 3480m. We ventured into my powder field one last time and all agreed that it's glory days were over.
Before breaking for lunch we decided to try and enter one of the last untouched areas on the mountain, a gentle sloping hill to the right of the terrain park. While it wasn't powder, with the warm temperature and intense sun, uncooked risotto may be the best description of the snow. If the temperature dropped tomorrow, this would turn into a skating rink. The gently slope led into a natural serpentine halfpipe that eventually led out on to the Prado cat track. We all had a good ride through that.
What a difference a day makes. Being a weekday, the hill was nearly empty. The lift lines were easily 1/3 their size of the prior two days and were slightly better behaved. Even the Bajo Zero restaurant was civilized. Ordering food still involved a rather chaotic ordeal amongst the four tills. While Chris waited for our food, I picked up a round of the oh so delicious and addicting Pisco sours. The mild temperature and clear blue skies prompted another round of Pisco sours as we continued to lounge on the snow patio of Bajo Zero.
It was nearly four when we decided to leave. We all headed back up to Mirador where Chris and I parted ways with Summer and made one more run over to Andes Express and then back to Mirador for the Retorno run back to the hotel.
Following dinner, we proceeded to complete an early checkout before heading up to the pub for 80s night. Summer ordered rounds of Caipiriñas. After the third round, our server told us about a bimonthly staff party taking place at the onsite gymnasium/climbing wall and that we were welcome to drop in. While the tunes in the pub were a real trip down memory lane nothing much was happening at the pub. We agreed to meet in the lobby at 1am, after completing our packing, and head over to the staff party.
The staff party was a riot. $2 cans of Escudo beer (think Pilsner) and a Latin Hip-hop DJ. Both the energy and the crowd were great. After nearly an hour there, we headed back to the hotel. An 8:30 breakfast would come much too early.
I met up with Chris and Summer at 9:30 for a breakfast that we nursed until about 10:30. Chris once again filled up the water bottle with jugo de frambueses. We weren't sure if we'd encounter the wrath of the Mistress de Sur (the name of our Hotel's restaurant) but we escaped her ire this morning.
We returned to our rooms to change. When Chris called at 11 saying they'd be ready for 11:45, I was basically dressed and chose to make one quick run before meeting them. It was very warm today, probably in the 3 to 4 degrees above zero range. Today was going to be slushy. At the top of Mirador, the wind wasn't nearly as strong or as cold as the prior day but had clearly been scrubbing the mountain of any loose snow during the night. The Retorno Medio and Retorno Bajo runs were both hard packed, bordering on icy. I stored my board at the base of the hotel complex and went to meet Chris and Summer back at the Tres Puntas Hotel.
We made a few runs, noticing the the 4 to 5 degree change in temperature as you went from Base Prado at 2680m to the tops of Cima Mirador at 3300m and Cima Andes at 3480m. We ventured into my powder field one last time and all agreed that it's glory days were over.
Before breaking for lunch we decided to try and enter one of the last untouched areas on the mountain, a gentle sloping hill to the right of the terrain park. While it wasn't powder, with the warm temperature and intense sun, uncooked risotto may be the best description of the snow. If the temperature dropped tomorrow, this would turn into a skating rink. The gently slope led into a natural serpentine halfpipe that eventually led out on to the Prado cat track. We all had a good ride through that.
What a difference a day makes. Being a weekday, the hill was nearly empty. The lift lines were easily 1/3 their size of the prior two days and were slightly better behaved. Even the Bajo Zero restaurant was civilized. Ordering food still involved a rather chaotic ordeal amongst the four tills. While Chris waited for our food, I picked up a round of the oh so delicious and addicting Pisco sours. The mild temperature and clear blue skies prompted another round of Pisco sours as we continued to lounge on the snow patio of Bajo Zero.
It was nearly four when we decided to leave. We all headed back up to Mirador where Chris and I parted ways with Summer and made one more run over to Andes Express and then back to Mirador for the Retorno run back to the hotel.
Following dinner, we proceeded to complete an early checkout before heading up to the pub for 80s night. Summer ordered rounds of Caipiriñas. After the third round, our server told us about a bimonthly staff party taking place at the onsite gymnasium/climbing wall and that we were welcome to drop in. While the tunes in the pub were a real trip down memory lane nothing much was happening at the pub. We agreed to meet in the lobby at 1am, after completing our packing, and head over to the staff party.
The staff party was a riot. $2 cans of Escudo beer (think Pilsner) and a Latin Hip-hop DJ. Both the energy and the crowd were great. After nearly an hour there, we headed back to the hotel. An 8:30 breakfast would come much too early.
Valle Nevado 2
After our late dinner and late night with several beverages we elected to make a much later start today. We met for breakfast and Chris, having brought a small water bottle, filled it with the raspberry purée for later imbibing on the hill.
We took a couple warm up runs and we headed to "Curtis' Powder Field." Summer got a good taste of the appeal of powder and it's nasty side when you fall in it: the amount of work needed to get back up again. Today was a nice cruising day trying to find any last vestiges of untracked snow.
By now it was after two so we decided to try Restaurant Baja Zero again for lunch. I grabbed drinks but Chris got involved in an incident while getting our food. (Chris believes that Chileans, and I would further extrapolate to include the Argentinians, have a smaller zone of personal space compared to North Americans. It might explain some of the lift line chaos.) After having several people butt in front of him in line for food and a guy behind him complaining in Spanish about him being either an American or a German, Chris turned around and tore a strip off him in German. Converstaion in the immediate vicinity, including the kitchen, stopped.
Following lunch, we made our way to the first of two lifts to take us back to my powder field where Chris had buried the bottle of raspberry juice. While waiting in line we experienced the most galling display of assumed privilege any of us had ever seen. A single skier pushed past us and the two groups in front of us to accost a chair for herself. We were left nearly speechless. Even during spring break when Whistler is overrun with the kids from the North Shore mountains I never witnessed such behaviour. Perhaps its a matter of the lift operations team being more assertive or a better merging system.
The event was quickly forgotten as we made our way back to the powder field to recover the raspberry juice. We stopped at a rock outcrop immediately above the drop zone to take some photos. Summer, having unstrapped from her board, was walking towards the rocks when one leg immediately sank down nearly three feet. We managed to pull her out and with a couple of shim stones, managed a decent group shot. After retrieving the bottle of red nectar, Chris attempted another jump off a powder precipice but found the landing area a bit too flat. Summer tracked a bit further downhill, gaining more of an appreciation for the butter-like sensation of riding on powder.
After that, Summer went to catch a run back to the hotel while Chris and I went to take in a few more runs. When I next looked at my watch it was nearly 4:20. We decided to make one last trip up Mirador and take the Retorno route back to the Hotel.
That night we decided to brave the international buffet in our hotel's restaurant. The theme was Asian but wasn't executed very well. Chris had a tasty bird drumstick but we all passed on the mashed potatoes. From there we went to the pub upstairs and over a few rounds of beer played a single game of pool that lasted nearly an hour. Yes, the three of us all sucked that badly. After finally sinking the eight ball, we moved back to a table and were joined by two guys, we believe both former military: one, currently in the Air Force and working as a refuelling tanker plane pilot and the other, in private industry as a corporate security consultant. We all chatted a bit and left around 1:00 or 1:30, agreeing to another late breakfast.
We took a couple warm up runs and we headed to "Curtis' Powder Field." Summer got a good taste of the appeal of powder and it's nasty side when you fall in it: the amount of work needed to get back up again. Today was a nice cruising day trying to find any last vestiges of untracked snow.
By now it was after two so we decided to try Restaurant Baja Zero again for lunch. I grabbed drinks but Chris got involved in an incident while getting our food. (Chris believes that Chileans, and I would further extrapolate to include the Argentinians, have a smaller zone of personal space compared to North Americans. It might explain some of the lift line chaos.) After having several people butt in front of him in line for food and a guy behind him complaining in Spanish about him being either an American or a German, Chris turned around and tore a strip off him in German. Converstaion in the immediate vicinity, including the kitchen, stopped.
Following lunch, we made our way to the first of two lifts to take us back to my powder field where Chris had buried the bottle of raspberry juice. While waiting in line we experienced the most galling display of assumed privilege any of us had ever seen. A single skier pushed past us and the two groups in front of us to accost a chair for herself. We were left nearly speechless. Even during spring break when Whistler is overrun with the kids from the North Shore mountains I never witnessed such behaviour. Perhaps its a matter of the lift operations team being more assertive or a better merging system.
The event was quickly forgotten as we made our way back to the powder field to recover the raspberry juice. We stopped at a rock outcrop immediately above the drop zone to take some photos. Summer, having unstrapped from her board, was walking towards the rocks when one leg immediately sank down nearly three feet. We managed to pull her out and with a couple of shim stones, managed a decent group shot. After retrieving the bottle of red nectar, Chris attempted another jump off a powder precipice but found the landing area a bit too flat. Summer tracked a bit further downhill, gaining more of an appreciation for the butter-like sensation of riding on powder.
After that, Summer went to catch a run back to the hotel while Chris and I went to take in a few more runs. When I next looked at my watch it was nearly 4:20. We decided to make one last trip up Mirador and take the Retorno route back to the Hotel.
That night we decided to brave the international buffet in our hotel's restaurant. The theme was Asian but wasn't executed very well. Chris had a tasty bird drumstick but we all passed on the mashed potatoes. From there we went to the pub upstairs and over a few rounds of beer played a single game of pool that lasted nearly an hour. Yes, the three of us all sucked that badly. After finally sinking the eight ball, we moved back to a table and were joined by two guys, we believe both former military: one, currently in the Air Force and working as a refuelling tanker plane pilot and the other, in private industry as a corporate security consultant. We all chatted a bit and left around 1:00 or 1:30, agreeing to another late breakfast.
25 August 2008
Valle Nevado 1
Chris called at 8 and we agreed to meet for 8:30. The breakfast buffet was quite good. Next to the two orange juice dispensers was something I had never seen before, raspberry juice. Not some Tang-like mix, but with seeds and pulp, whole puréed raspberries.
We agreed to meet 30 minutes later to begin exploring these mountains. I can't really put in to words the sheer scale of this place. It's hard to draw a comparison to Whistler-Blackcomb or any of the other resorts I've so far been to because the lack of trees gives, perhaps an illusion, of vastly more terrain. I'm not sure if the photo's I've been taking here and at Las Leñas will be able to give the expanse justice.
We spent the first part of the morning doing some cruiser runs; Chris has been riding for about a decade and Summer is doing very well having only started riding last year. While she rode the groomed runs Chris and I would try to locate pockets of powder.
Summer suggested we break for lunch before noon and beat the late Chilean crush at 1pm. A very good idea it turned out to be. She and I had an incredible ceviche while Chris tried the medium rare chicken, sausage, and beef brochette. Arguing members of a nearby New Jersey ski club provided a bit of entertainment while we ate.
At some of the quad chairs at Valle Nevado is a loading system I've never seen before. It combines a very short lift carpet in the chair loading area, moving slower than the chair. It removes the risk of slipping due to very icy or channeled loading areas. While they have a number of chairs, two major areas are only accessible by 1km+ long Poma lifts, one rising through 400m of veritical height. In preparation for taking these, we tried to get Summer to successfully load one. She missed the first two attempts, but did get nearly 3/4 of the way to the top of a short lift before catching an edge and falling in to some powder on the edges of the lift track. At this point Chris and I parted ways, agreeing to meet for aprés at 4:30.
I went off to try a couple more runs in what remained of some slightly tracked powder. I revisited the area we saw earlier and made a few runs through there. My last run brought me back to the hotel complex around 4:30. While walking by the hot pool, found Chris & Summer and the members of the Jersey ski club.
They joined me moments later and over hot chocolate and snacks we commented on how people here just don't get lift line etiquette. I alluded to this in the Las Lenas 2 entry but it truly is endemic here. The situation is so bad that at one chair a lift operator acts as traffic cop literally directing when one line can go and the other must wait. Even then they're not always successful. We coined the term queue rage to describe the frustration that we're starting to experience.
Despite all of this I can confidently say I will be back here again. What has truly surprised me is the number of North Americans present. Though I suppose with the prices one must pay at Valle Nevado, it certainly puts it out of reach of many Chileans. Next time I might splurge and get the helicopter transfer rather than deal with the drive up. However, the driver I had said there are plans to undertake some major upgrades to the road to remove a number of the switchbacks.
We agreed to meet 30 minutes later to begin exploring these mountains. I can't really put in to words the sheer scale of this place. It's hard to draw a comparison to Whistler-Blackcomb or any of the other resorts I've so far been to because the lack of trees gives, perhaps an illusion, of vastly more terrain. I'm not sure if the photo's I've been taking here and at Las Leñas will be able to give the expanse justice.
We spent the first part of the morning doing some cruiser runs; Chris has been riding for about a decade and Summer is doing very well having only started riding last year. While she rode the groomed runs Chris and I would try to locate pockets of powder.
Summer suggested we break for lunch before noon and beat the late Chilean crush at 1pm. A very good idea it turned out to be. She and I had an incredible ceviche while Chris tried the medium rare chicken, sausage, and beef brochette. Arguing members of a nearby New Jersey ski club provided a bit of entertainment while we ate.
At some of the quad chairs at Valle Nevado is a loading system I've never seen before. It combines a very short lift carpet in the chair loading area, moving slower than the chair. It removes the risk of slipping due to very icy or channeled loading areas. While they have a number of chairs, two major areas are only accessible by 1km+ long Poma lifts, one rising through 400m of veritical height. In preparation for taking these, we tried to get Summer to successfully load one. She missed the first two attempts, but did get nearly 3/4 of the way to the top of a short lift before catching an edge and falling in to some powder on the edges of the lift track. At this point Chris and I parted ways, agreeing to meet for aprés at 4:30.
I went off to try a couple more runs in what remained of some slightly tracked powder. I revisited the area we saw earlier and made a few runs through there. My last run brought me back to the hotel complex around 4:30. While walking by the hot pool, found Chris & Summer and the members of the Jersey ski club.
They joined me moments later and over hot chocolate and snacks we commented on how people here just don't get lift line etiquette. I alluded to this in the Las Lenas 2 entry but it truly is endemic here. The situation is so bad that at one chair a lift operator acts as traffic cop literally directing when one line can go and the other must wait. Even then they're not always successful. We coined the term queue rage to describe the frustration that we're starting to experience.
Despite all of this I can confidently say I will be back here again. What has truly surprised me is the number of North Americans present. Though I suppose with the prices one must pay at Valle Nevado, it certainly puts it out of reach of many Chileans. Next time I might splurge and get the helicopter transfer rather than deal with the drive up. However, the driver I had said there are plans to undertake some major upgrades to the road to remove a number of the switchbacks.
Valle Nevado: The Arrival
(Ed. note: To those who have been wondering where the other meat stories are, I find it rather awkward to coordinate meetings from internet cafés. And my phone just barely functioned in Buenos Aires. I'll see what happens in Santiago. Things get started so late here and I've usually got something planned for the next day. In addition, the language thing is a little bit of an issue.)
After that harrowing ride up to Valle Nevado, I went to check in but the room wouldn't be ready until 4. I stored the board bag and went for a wander around the complex. I returned about an hour later according to my watch, but I had forgotten to turn it back upon arrival. Realizing I still had at least another hour to wait, I decided to grab something for lunch.
My second pass through th outdoor patio yielded a free table. I overheard English from the couple next to me and asked if they were checking out or checking in. Chris and Summer from Minnesota with the requisite long Os were waiting to check in. This trip is their honeymoon, having married the week before. We bonded over the appallingly bad service the waiter working our section of the patio was giving us. I was hoping to order a pizza but they said I'd be waiting at least two hours and generously offered the remainder of their's.
In typical resort fashion, dinner reservations must be made at one of the four restaurants before 6pm that day. Chris and Summer had stashed their resort service guide when they stored their luggage but I had mine so we reviewed the choices and agreed to meet for fondue later that evening. They're an incredibly charming couple and we had some great conversation over the three course meal of meats and broth, vegetables and cheese, and chocolate.
After dinner we headed to the pub in our hotel. A nice space with incredible views. We all ordered the complimentary pisco sours. Shortly thereafter the DJ started his set but the tunes were geared more for 2am rather than 11pm. We agreed to meet for breakfast in the morning when Chris and Summer left about 11:30. I departed for my room about 15 minutes later.
If nothing else, the bartenders Luis (we gave him a cover story of being in the US Federal Witness Protection Program for turning evidence on the Cyclones 13 in LA) and Paola were great fun to watch. The cashier, who was really getting into the tunes that evening, also received a cover story: accountant for a coke lord in Miami.
After that harrowing ride up to Valle Nevado, I went to check in but the room wouldn't be ready until 4. I stored the board bag and went for a wander around the complex. I returned about an hour later according to my watch, but I had forgotten to turn it back upon arrival. Realizing I still had at least another hour to wait, I decided to grab something for lunch.
My second pass through th outdoor patio yielded a free table. I overheard English from the couple next to me and asked if they were checking out or checking in. Chris and Summer from Minnesota with the requisite long Os were waiting to check in. This trip is their honeymoon, having married the week before. We bonded over the appallingly bad service the waiter working our section of the patio was giving us. I was hoping to order a pizza but they said I'd be waiting at least two hours and generously offered the remainder of their's.
In typical resort fashion, dinner reservations must be made at one of the four restaurants before 6pm that day. Chris and Summer had stashed their resort service guide when they stored their luggage but I had mine so we reviewed the choices and agreed to meet for fondue later that evening. They're an incredibly charming couple and we had some great conversation over the three course meal of meats and broth, vegetables and cheese, and chocolate.
After dinner we headed to the pub in our hotel. A nice space with incredible views. We all ordered the complimentary pisco sours. Shortly thereafter the DJ started his set but the tunes were geared more for 2am rather than 11pm. We agreed to meet for breakfast in the morning when Chris and Summer left about 11:30. I departed for my room about 15 minutes later.
If nothing else, the bartenders Luis (we gave him a cover story of being in the US Federal Witness Protection Program for turning evidence on the Cyclones 13 in LA) and Paola were great fun to watch. The cashier, who was really getting into the tunes that evening, also received a cover story: accountant for a coke lord in Miami.
22 August 2008
The Road to Valle Nevado
Oh! My! Gawd! 60 Freaking switchbacks. The count is conveniently displayed on the road signs.
40 to the Farellones turn off, and another 20 to Valle Nevado.
This road makes the Sea to Sky highway from Vancouver to Whistler (pre-upgrade) look like a walk in the park.
40 to the Farellones turn off, and another 20 to Valle Nevado.
This road makes the Sea to Sky highway from Vancouver to Whistler (pre-upgrade) look like a walk in the park.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)