Wednesday, September 26, 2012

Beauty and Beatings – A Recall of the Adventures in the Andes – PART 6: The Realization


I awake, amazingly to no hangover, after a mere 4 hours of sleep, and prep for another day of skiing along with another forecast of bluebird skies and low wind.  Today is going to be a good day.  Upon gaining the ridge on the Otto lift, I’m finally able to look around and see the beautiful scenery under the clear skies.  There were peaks, ranges, and volcanoes stretching for miles, some with snow covered tops, some poking through clouds in the distance.   It was a sight to take in; one that makes you forget the music you're listening to and get lost in the beauty.

There was a little refresher of snow since Friday; some new, some blown in from other parts of the mountain.  All that mattered to me was that I was sliding on snow.  I find that I am most at peace and happy when I’m skiing.  Even in a year of low tide snow and a miserable winter, as had been the case with the previous winter in Utah and now in Chile, I still say skiing horrible snow is better than not skiing at all. 

The day blew by as we hit lap after lap of fast pow.  I spent most of the day skiing with Dave from Powder Quest and a new friend by way of another, Matt, a crazy Frenchman from the Pyrenees, that had a “dirty” habit, as he so eloquently put it, of straightlining any and everything he could.  He was fun to ski with and our styles meshed well; we both like skiing fast lines, and then scaring ourselves with tight technical lines and drops.  We would spend the long rides up the Otto lift sharing stories of wrecks, fun descents, and differences in our cultures and countries.  He told me that he usually comes to Las Trancas for a month each year and rents a cabana with a few friends.  He is able to do this as he gets an allotment of seven weeks of vacation each year at his job in France, compared to the “measly” five week standard of the rest of the country.  Immediate jealousy ensued. 
Being Saturday there was sure to be fun and shenanigans had tonight.  We heard that a Brit was going to be playing covers at Oliva’s, a local pub, after dinner, and then everyone was going to head to the disco right next to Oliva’s for mischievous times and dancing.  To protect the innocent, the details of the night shall remain untold.  However, it’s safe to assume there was plenty of dancing and drinks downed as we closed the disco and at the spry hour of 5 am.  This was easy to do as we had already made the decision to have a down day on Sunday, as the forecast was lousy, and the partying so primo.

I spent Sunday hiking up to the closest waterfall of the two in town.  As the weather was still warm down in the valley, the waterfall hadn’t yet frozen over.  The hike was through a jungle of trees and Chilean plumbing, as pipes, water catches, and more pipes encased the hillside below the waterfall.  It was good to get out of the hostel and see some of the local goods.  As I walked the couple miles back to the hostel, the rain picked up, and for the first time in years, I got to play in the rain and not care about being soaked.  That’s a rare occasion when one lives in the desert and also spends majority of their time inside behind a desk.  And it’s that latter part of the previous sentence that echoes loud inside of my mind, like a bad childhood nightmare, as I have long ago been diagnosed with Peter Pan syndrome; how can I be happy sitting still, living someone else’s dream, caged within pinstriped pants and button-up shirts, using ten times more intellect than physical skill in the completion of each day’s duty, playing the game of corporate jargon and status reports?  Is that me?  Is this what I envisioned for myself as a child?  This would be the recurring theme and question running through my mind while on this vacation.

The truth is I don’t think I ever truly envisioned what I would do as an adult as a kid.  Now I of course said I’d like to do this or that, maybe having titles of prestige like doctor or lawyer, or a title of adventure like special forces or helicopter pilot, but even as I continued through life, into college and into the “real” world, I never gave much time or thought to what I was to do next, just going with the flow of things.  I had an idea, but in this day of age where we’re surrounded by unlimited electronic distractions, habits of fighting boredom for a few seconds with a swipe or two on our smartphones, or constantly having music playing in our ears, the true dissection and subsequent decision of one’s life quest hadn’t really happened for me.  But I had an unexpected treat coming to me the next day which gave me an opportunity to be left to my thoughts.

Monday arrived with a bluebird setting and medium winds; another resort ski day.*   That asterisk is the caveat that winds may close down the lifts and you better have a Plan B in place. At this point in time you bet your last dollar I had a Plan B in place.  I had skins with me and planned on hiking up to the volcano due east of the resort, Volcan Neuvo.  On the second lap up while on the T-bar, as sure the sun rises in the east, the wind picked up just like the forecast said, and the lifts stopped spinning. Plan B is a go; midlayer off, skins on, and time to hike.  I gain the ridge and who do I run into?  My new roommate at the hostel Leon.  Mr. Leon is a funny German Italian, or is it Italian German, from a small village in Italy where he ran the business side of his family's winery.  He came out here to get out of Italy and to run the business side of a winery in Chile.  Anyhow back to the story, Leon had skinned up from the base with a group of 4 Frenchies.  After a quick chat about their agenda while battling the deafening 45 kph wind, I decided to hike with them.  This turned out to be quite the hike as the wind was head on blasting us with ice pellets, and gusting up to 60+ kph at this point.  Thank goodness for balaclavas.  It was so bad that I had to keep my helmet and goggles on.  A few hours into this brutal beating of an Andes adventure, we summited the volcano.  The crater was smaller than I expected but the view around was more than I could have asked for.  And the skiing was actually a treat on the south west aspect of the volcano considering how wind beaten the terrain had been on the hike up.

Now that we had skied down the second phase of the group's plan came out; they wanted to ski down to "Aguas Calientes" (the hot springs) in the valley to the south.  I really wanted to go and had only chatted with someone on where they were located without having them pointed out on a topographic map.  The Frenchies said they believed they were just down in the valley below us in the streams that were visible from our location.  I was told they were around the corner in the next valley lower.  At this point I was starting to reconsider making the trek as I didn't plan or prepare for such long day.  But really wanting to hit this spot while at this point not knowing if I was going to stay in Las Trancas, I gave into group think while knowing deep down the majority of the group's travel description didn't fit the description I'd gotten for a local guide with over 12 years experience.  After a long 20 minute skiing traverse we could see the "hot" springs.  I stayed high and waited for the sign that the water was actually hot, as we couldn't see any steam due to the wind.  After everyone went down, I finally dropped in only to find out that the water was indeed not hot at all.  Sucky monkey balls. (We'd find out later that we were only 200 meters away from the hot springs hidden around the corner.) If I would have stayed at my previous location, I was a mere 20-30 minute skin out to the top of the resort.  Now I'm a good 60-90 minutes out. 
The skin out was in an ice valley, and even though we were now heading north on this skin, east on the first skin, the winds changed and were now hitting us head on, but gusting even harder as it was the first notions of a new storm coming in.  By this point in the day around 5:00 pm, as my energy was depleted and I was borderline dehydrated not having planned or prepared for this long of a journery, I hit the wall and it hit me back hard.  Not only was I spent, my iPod had now run out of juice, leaving me to my thoughts and the complaining of my body for the next hour plus. At first the complaining was louder, but having grown up playing football and then moving onto the college ranks, I learned early in my youth how to put those things aside and just finish the task at hand, regardless of the struggle.  (Now here comes that unexpected treat I mentioned above.)  Towards the end of the skin to the top of the resort, my thoughts returned to the recurring theme and question running through my mind while on this vacation; am I satisfied with where I am in life?  As I thought deeply about this while pushing myself to the top of the skin, battling the pros and cons of my life, the good and bad, I came up with my answer as I caught a view of one of the most beautiful sunsets I'd seen in quite a long time.  The answer came as simply this; I'm satisfied with who I've become and the experiences I've gained at this point in my life.  The rest of the night including the ski down to the car, the delicious dinner and beers, and the chatting around the was sweet as I had accomplished another "epic" out in the backcountry and come to the decision that I was satisfied with me, yet still I was not satisfied with someone else's "dream" I was living back home in the states.........


















Matt straightlining a shot


Me skiing some fast pow














Natacha, myself, and Nick being forced off the lift at midmountain















The "jungle" around the waterfall






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