Woke up about 7:30 and quickly headed out to catch some shots of the pink light of sunrise on the "nearby" peaks. I think I caught some good shots, but it's kind of hard to tell from the camera's screen; too many trees and man-made stuff in the way.
I returned to the room and started packing. Afterwards it was off to the newer net café. The systems were much faster than the one across the street. Caught up on some email and then had to hit the bank up the street because I needed my AR$100 notes broken into something a bit more friendly. I wandered around town for a little while taking some miscellaneous pictures.
The Lonely Planet guide book recommended a certain type of sandwich called lomo: thin sliced beef, ham, cheese, tomatoes, and sauce on French bread. I wandered into a local cafe and ordered one. That is one excellent sandwich. I felt strangely out of time here because while I was eating the proprietor locked the door. Many places close between 1pm and 5pm, for the weekday siesta. It's kind of eerie to be on a street that was bustling with activity only a couple hours earlier, now essentially deserted.
My bus to Mendoza departed on time. As we rolled through the literal desert scrub I could see odd parallels with my own country. Some live in the depths of poverty in literal mud brick homes and others in modern structures, in some cases within blocks of each other. What I found particularly distressing was how everything, glass, paper, plastic, was all thrown out. I wasn't expecting a coherent recycling program but seeing what we were like a couple of decades ago, it is quite frightening how far the eco/recycling movement has yet to go. Plastics permeate the landscape, everywhere.
My last night in Argentina I thought I'd splurge for a real non-tourist, upscale, restaurant-grade slab of beef. However, about 10 minutes before I made my order, the kitchen ran out of steak. So I thought I'd try the oso bucco, but they had also run out of potatoes. The alternative was sweet potato, something I detest about as much as liver. So instead I had pork with beets. An interesting though tasteful combination.
It's been an effort to remember to order beef down here. I'm so used to eating chicken in Canada, and the occasional serving of fish, that the option of steak rarely crosses my mind. (Sorry Jeurgen)
22 August 2008
Las Leñas 3
Another beautiful blue sky day. No snow last night but I decided to head north and try the middle. The chunks had been skiied down and while it was very hard pack it was not the trash it was the day before. I made a couple runs there and headed over to a more southern (or left if you face the mountain) area. There was an off-piste zone that is a fairly uninterrupted constant slope to the cat-track from hell. The powder was nearly skiied out and the wind crust didn't help but it was still a good run. At this point I decided to break for lunch.
I've always thought a tostada involved tortillas in some way. Here in Argentina, it's a toasted sandwich made with bread that comes in sheets about 25cm square and 5-10mm thick; typically filled with ham, cheese, and this case chicken. Quite tasty.
I looked at my watch and thought, "Can I make another off-piste run from Marte before I have to leave?" That and still hit the gift shop and have a beer or submarino (steamed milk with chocolate in the bottom, not syrup or powder but actual chocolate). The clock said yes! So another 30 or so minute ride to the top began. For the last third on the way to the top of Marte, my solo partner was an Australian who told me an interesting story. Apparently, Las Leñas was the dream of an Argentian. However, the year it opened and the following year saw little to no snow and left him bankrupt. The resort then passed from bank to bank until a Malaysian group recently purchased it. Aside from a couple of Poma lifts, they have not invested in any significant upgrades. It shows.
The top of the southeast peak is really hard to read and I still don't have a full understanding of where things are, but I ended up coming out of a chute in a completely different area than I had anticipated. I'd like to say I rode it most of the way but the first half was basically a side to side traverse. The snow had been windblasted and had almost an ice-like feel. Playing it safe was the only way I was going to do this. At about the halfway point, things softened up and I started linking my turns again. But then the conditions turned to what remains behind after an avalanche, rough, chunky snow. This too had been wind blasted and alternated between very hard pack and oasis of shallow powder. I did get some incredible photos though.
I think this could be a better mountain, but like any resort its fortunes are at the whim of mother nature. With a fresh dump of powder, say at least 30cm and no wind, much of it would be incredible but the high winds quickly crust what does arrive or carry it away. I'm sure even soft snow can be found if you're willing and know where to hike, but that would not be this trip.
I've always thought a tostada involved tortillas in some way. Here in Argentina, it's a toasted sandwich made with bread that comes in sheets about 25cm square and 5-10mm thick; typically filled with ham, cheese, and this case chicken. Quite tasty.
I looked at my watch and thought, "Can I make another off-piste run from Marte before I have to leave?" That and still hit the gift shop and have a beer or submarino (steamed milk with chocolate in the bottom, not syrup or powder but actual chocolate). The clock said yes! So another 30 or so minute ride to the top began. For the last third on the way to the top of Marte, my solo partner was an Australian who told me an interesting story. Apparently, Las Leñas was the dream of an Argentian. However, the year it opened and the following year saw little to no snow and left him bankrupt. The resort then passed from bank to bank until a Malaysian group recently purchased it. Aside from a couple of Poma lifts, they have not invested in any significant upgrades. It shows.
The top of the southeast peak is really hard to read and I still don't have a full understanding of where things are, but I ended up coming out of a chute in a completely different area than I had anticipated. I'd like to say I rode it most of the way but the first half was basically a side to side traverse. The snow had been windblasted and had almost an ice-like feel. Playing it safe was the only way I was going to do this. At about the halfway point, things softened up and I started linking my turns again. But then the conditions turned to what remains behind after an avalanche, rough, chunky snow. This too had been wind blasted and alternated between very hard pack and oasis of shallow powder. I did get some incredible photos though.
I think this could be a better mountain, but like any resort its fortunes are at the whim of mother nature. With a fresh dump of powder, say at least 30cm and no wind, much of it would be incredible but the high winds quickly crust what does arrive or carry it away. I'm sure even soft snow can be found if you're willing and know where to hike, but that would not be this trip.
21 August 2008
Las Leñas 2
The terminal at the locutorio internet I went to on Tuesday was abysmally slow and I was too tired to bother posting last night.
Got up a bit late today and thought I'd missed my shuttle. However, it drove up around 8:20; I was tempted to go back to bed and nurse my twisted knee but thought I'd try and see what I could do. Two runs and I'd had it. Riding itself wasn't the problem, it was the sharp bend when getting up and my rear foot in and out of the binding. I was not in the mood to try goofy the rest of the day. I stored the board and went looking for the Las Leñas merchandise store. It wasn't open yet but there were a couple things I'd pick up tomorrow. The thought of spending the next six hours just sitting around was too much to bear. I stopped in to the farmacia downstairs and bought some 600mg Ibuprofeno tablets. I went to one of the open air patios and followed one tablet with an espresso chaser.
I headed back to Marte because the two runs I took on the east face of the mountain had crap snow; unforgiving chunkiness.
Today there was no guard handing out waivers but instead a Poma lift was operating. I'd never been on one of these. I'm not a fan of T-bars and this looked worse. A bit jittery at the beginning but I found it easier than a T-bar. At the top, on the way down, at the top, on the way down, at the top and on the way I got some incredible shots.
The soreness in my knee had quickly fading. Yes, I know masking discomfort with medication is wrong and that this may be soft tissue injury. However, I'm not doing anything I don't normally do (I'm not taxing myself any harder than normal) but I can't wait 2-3 weeks for this to fully heal. I don't feel pain, just soreness. (ed note: three days later and the knee is fine.)
I have mixed feelings about Las Leñas. On one hand, it's quite different from your typical Canadian resort. Another Canadian I met on the chair today had an interesting perspective. The resort managers merely provide you the means to get to a location, what you do at that point is up to you. As such there are no more than a handful of named runs. The lack of trees to clearly demarcate them makes it rather pointless (viz. the south mountain of Sunshine, near Banff). It's nice to have these types of choices available. On the other hand, getting to those starting points is a whole other issue. Most of the lifts are doubles but the way people line up for these is rather odd. Unlike the extreme conformity and protocol with bus stop lines in Buenos Aires and taxi stand lines at Mendoza airport, couples enter, single file, into separate though side-by-side paths but there isn't an explicit singles line. The result is kind of like trying to get served at a Chinese bakery, ordered chaos. You get your egg tarts eventually but not without at least a couple people butting in front of you.
Well, that was Tuesday. I need to break some bills and the bank here closes in 30 minutes. Later today from Mendoza, Las Leñas 3: The Off-Piste Day.
Got up a bit late today and thought I'd missed my shuttle. However, it drove up around 8:20; I was tempted to go back to bed and nurse my twisted knee but thought I'd try and see what I could do. Two runs and I'd had it. Riding itself wasn't the problem, it was the sharp bend when getting up and my rear foot in and out of the binding. I was not in the mood to try goofy the rest of the day. I stored the board and went looking for the Las Leñas merchandise store. It wasn't open yet but there were a couple things I'd pick up tomorrow. The thought of spending the next six hours just sitting around was too much to bear. I stopped in to the farmacia downstairs and bought some 600mg Ibuprofeno tablets. I went to one of the open air patios and followed one tablet with an espresso chaser.
I headed back to Marte because the two runs I took on the east face of the mountain had crap snow; unforgiving chunkiness.
Today there was no guard handing out waivers but instead a Poma lift was operating. I'd never been on one of these. I'm not a fan of T-bars and this looked worse. A bit jittery at the beginning but I found it easier than a T-bar. At the top, on the way down, at the top, on the way down, at the top and on the way I got some incredible shots.
The soreness in my knee had quickly fading. Yes, I know masking discomfort with medication is wrong and that this may be soft tissue injury. However, I'm not doing anything I don't normally do (I'm not taxing myself any harder than normal) but I can't wait 2-3 weeks for this to fully heal. I don't feel pain, just soreness. (ed note: three days later and the knee is fine.)
I have mixed feelings about Las Leñas. On one hand, it's quite different from your typical Canadian resort. Another Canadian I met on the chair today had an interesting perspective. The resort managers merely provide you the means to get to a location, what you do at that point is up to you. As such there are no more than a handful of named runs. The lack of trees to clearly demarcate them makes it rather pointless (viz. the south mountain of Sunshine, near Banff). It's nice to have these types of choices available. On the other hand, getting to those starting points is a whole other issue. Most of the lifts are doubles but the way people line up for these is rather odd. Unlike the extreme conformity and protocol with bus stop lines in Buenos Aires and taxi stand lines at Mendoza airport, couples enter, single file, into separate though side-by-side paths but there isn't an explicit singles line. The result is kind of like trying to get served at a Chinese bakery, ordered chaos. You get your egg tarts eventually but not without at least a couple people butting in front of you.
Well, that was Tuesday. I need to break some bills and the bank here closes in 30 minutes. Later today from Mendoza, Las Leñas 3: The Off-Piste Day.
18 August 2008
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.
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.
16 August 2008
More to come ...
I´ve been busy wandering the city. Will have more details on the past couple of days soon. Flight to Mendoza leaves in about three hours.
12 August 2008
In Transit 1
Checked out at 5:15 and the airport shuttle appeared promptly at 5:30. We arrived at YEG at 5:45. Printed out my boarding passes via the self serve check-in. When it was my turn to check in through the ticket counter I weighed the board bag and found it to be 57 pounds. So yes Lee, I guess it was kind of heavy. "Do you want to remove seven pounds or pay the overweight charge?" asked the agent. "Pay the fee," I said. Some puzzled searching of various ticketing screens ensued. After about five minutes she waived me through. Nice!
The south wing is much improved over the original airport but it's clear Edmonton is not a major transportation hub. Thankfully DHS and security took maybe five minutes. Prince Albert avoids detection yet again. One highlight in the departure lounge was a Right Said Fred look-alike (wow, does that date me) but leaner.
The actual flight was uneventful but continued on to Baltimore, a city I've always been curious to visit (damn you John Waters) but doubt it still has the charm that was his inspiration. Minneapolis/St. Paul is a nice terminal, in particular the rainbow themed entrance to my concourse, a sign perhaps?
While pacing the terminal looking for someplace to grab a light lunch happened upon a trio of flight crew, one of whom was 6'4" with biceps the size of my head. They do grow 'em big down here. As I'm sure Houston, or possibly even more so someplace like South Carolina would be, the regional accent is heavy in the terminal PA voice. That distinct Fargo or Rose Nylund accent. Oofda!
Wow that margarita from Chili's was strong. Well 90 minutes before Houston, think I'll go play with the camera.
The south wing is much improved over the original airport but it's clear Edmonton is not a major transportation hub. Thankfully DHS and security took maybe five minutes. Prince Albert avoids detection yet again. One highlight in the departure lounge was a Right Said Fred look-alike (wow, does that date me) but leaner.
The actual flight was uneventful but continued on to Baltimore, a city I've always been curious to visit (damn you John Waters) but doubt it still has the charm that was his inspiration. Minneapolis/St. Paul is a nice terminal, in particular the rainbow themed entrance to my concourse, a sign perhaps?
While pacing the terminal looking for someplace to grab a light lunch happened upon a trio of flight crew, one of whom was 6'4" with biceps the size of my head. They do grow 'em big down here. As I'm sure Houston, or possibly even more so someplace like South Carolina would be, the regional accent is heavy in the terminal PA voice. That distinct Fargo or Rose Nylund accent. Oofda!
Wow that margarita from Chili's was strong. Well 90 minutes before Houston, think I'll go play with the camera.
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