Beauty and Beatings – A Recall of the Adventures in the Andes – PART 5

Now it’s Thursday, conditions look exactly the same as the past two days, and I’m assuming the worst, but still not throwing in the towel.  I mean come on, I’m on vacation a ski vacation nonetheless, every day is a good day, but even better if I can ski……so here we go again:

Yeah buddy ski day today and I have a ride up there, no hitchhiking!!!  Woohoo!! Alright gear on, skis in the car, day pack ready.  Let’s go.

We get up there to a warm overcast day, hardly any wind down low, and the Otto lift spinning with the staff saying it’s going to open.   Alright I’m buying a ticket.  Not ten minutes after I purchase the ticket, the staff determines it’s time to shut Otto down because there is 25 kph plus winds up top.  Awesome….  There goes twenty-five mil pesos down the drain.  I’m not accepting another down day, not today.   Time for “Plan B.”  I proceeded to pull out my skins and take off layers; let's hike the resort. 

A short forty minutes later the quick hike turned into a slow slog as I gained a ridge and the previous 25 kph turned into a 50 kph head on Andes winter welcome hurling snow and ice into my face, slowing me down to a miserable crawl.  There was so much snow being blown around combined with the low visibility cloud, I couldn't see a damn thing.  After another hour of Andes winter love, I decided to finally get some skiing in.  The next one thousand vertical feet of miserable, icy, crusty, thigh rattling groomer skiing brought a huge smile to my face.   Finally.  The down days frustration had melted away.  One more quick lap later I was finally all smiles heading back to the hostel.  And what is on the plate for tomorrow? Supposedly a few inches of fresh and a bluebird day of skiing.

Friday comes and so did the snow, but not so much the bluebird.  We pulled up to fresh tracks and blue skies.  Hallelujah, I'm soooo happy.  Plus I could finally see the mountain and started scouting lines and adventures.  After two runs of a few inches of fast pow, the glorious scenery was quickly hidden by a thick low lying cloud.  Considering the low tide snow and sharp volcanic rocks poking up all over, this was not a the best scenario, but thank goodness for skiing.  Another good thing was getting to ski with Dave from Powder Quest, especially since he had a good knowledge of the mountain.  We met at the hostel restaurant the night prior and had a fun time.  Now that he sent his group up north, he had a few days to himself.  If you're ever looking for a guided adventure down in South America, or need some info on the Chillan area head on over to Powder Quest's website and get in touch.  The best part of today was finally getting face shots, with skiing for a whole day without having to hike for turns in a close second. 

And what better way than to finish off the day? How about with a Chilean asado.  Of course no one is going to say no to slow cooked steak, chicken, and pork straight from the local butcher consumed with hot rolls, Chilean wine to die for, beer, and shenanigans.  How'd this great idea come to fruition?  Well I'll just pat myself on the back for this one; and then give credit to Isi for getting the meat and to Alejandro for taking the main duties of cooking.   It was a great time and a few of us managed to keep the night going till about 3:30 am at the local pub owned by a pair of gringos.  So back to bed by 4:00 am just to start it all over again in a few hours.  Enjoying life the Chilean way.


Here are some pics from the Asado

Rhys and Dave

Dave and Me



Beauty and Beatings – A Recall of the Adventures in the Andes – PART 4

Yeah buddy ski day today and I have a ride up there, no hitchhiking!!! Woohoo!!  Alright gear on, skis in the car, day pack ready.  Let’s go. 

We’re about a 20 minute ride up a dirt road to the resort.  It’s overcast and slightly warmer than desired.  My mind skips around various thoughts due to the excitement of skiing and the anxiety of not skiing battling it out; this ride couldn’t go fast enough.  We pull up to the middle parking lot. OTTO LIFT CLOSED!!!  Just the beginner’s poma is open and that is obviously not worth the price of admission.  My heart drops in time with the rising frustration created from a down day, one that wouldn’t have happened in America, a closure of the top lifts due to 25 to 40 kph winds (and the bottom lifts weren’t running due to no snow).  No why wouldn’t this have happened in the States?  Because a few years back the resort bought some second hand 50 year old Chinese pieces of crap cheapo lifts to save money.  And you pay for what you get; no secondary safety mechanisms on the tower rollers, a poor mountain top location with no windbreak, and twice the cost due to constantly breaking down from being a piece of poo.  Yep.

Dejected and disappointed we headed back into town to our hostel, once again the ride seemingly taking forever. Official “Down Day #1.”  We shall try again tomorrow.

The rest of the day was spent hanging out in the hostel getting to know some of those on their own adventure.  First off there was the gentlemen kind enough to give me a ride to the resort, Nick, a spry man in his 60’s and on his tenth plus tour of South America.  Now it took us all of a couple of seconds to realize we’d met before.  I immediately recognized him from time spent at Snowbird.  He’s a very interesting chap and has stories from all around the world many times over as he’s one that chose many years ago to seek after treasures of experiences and knowledge.  And he has a very refined talent of always being kind and inviting to those around, enlisting them into a group setting.   Nick and I hung out quite a bit during the trip and usually shared a table for dinner in the hostel’s restaurant.   He was also a huge boon in getting me up to and back from the resort every day that he was at the hostel. Then there was Natasha, a Parisian former ballerina now turned doctor going into her third year of residency enjoying the last couple of weeks of a three month vacation.  How was she? Classic Parisian for the first few days; I mean come on, even the French hate Parisians.   But she loosened up after a few good days of skiing later on down the road, but not quick enough, earning the nickname “Parisian Princess” in the meantime. 

Alright it’s Wednesday now. Yeah buddy ski day today and I have a ride up there, no hitchhiking!!! Woohoo!!  Alright gear on, skis in the car, day pack ready.  Let’s go.  Does this sound familiar?  Rinse and repeat.

“Official Down Day #2.”

Now my legs are just getting antsy.  Now frustration has really set in.  The weather reports are all over the board.  Depressions, ridges, systems on the horizon, no systems on the horizon; it all is true and it all is false in some sense.  Welcome to the Andes.  To combat hostel laziness and spending hours upon hours attempting to battle each other to connect to the ever inconsistent and flighty internet connect, Nick, Natasha, and I set out on a walk up Shangri-La road out to the Mission Impossible Lodge.  The walk, under overcast and drizzle i.e. snow in the mountain tops, became a discussion of France, Europe, and the reaches of modern medical reaches between Nick and Natasha with me listening and observing.  Interesting times to say the least.

The day also brought two sets of Australian couples on opposite ends of a similar journey.  The first couple, Chris and Kate from Melbourne, was in their first month of a nine month vacation, while the second couple, Rhys and Terri from Perth, was in their last month of a ten month vacation.  It was fun to see Western and Eastern Australians interact, to see the opposite sides of the adventure spectrum, and tell us of the differences between the coasts, and asking them about "Stalia" slang .  All four were a good inclusion into the the hostel group, escpeically when it came to consuming vast amounts of Chilean wine, pisco, Escudo and Cristal.

Group shot after dinner one night

Beauty and Beatings – A Recall of the Adventures in the Andes – PART 1

Even as one can artificially, accidently, or purposefully create start and end dates for activities, events, or happenings in life, the same is not necessarily true for the start and end dates of life lessons or life changing events.  These types of events can happen anywhere through direct means like giving up one’s time and life goals to the full-time dedication of a greater cause like the Peace Corp, a religious mission, or a humanitarian mission, or indirectly when one allows their self to disconnect, assume nothing, and allow “whatever” to occur, essentially becoming once again as a small child, hungry, interested, willing to learn all that is out there.  When one does this, there is no end to what may happen, the limiting factor is not time but oneself.  As so eloquently put by the famous Yoda “you must unlearn what you have learned.”

…………………………

Just over two years to the day I arrived home from my first trip to Chile, an awesome and fun two weeks in Portillo, I departed on my second trip, but this time I ventured away from the “you are taken care of here” wonderful and easy ways of Portillo, to the unknown and “on your own” ways of Santiago and the small town of Las Trancas to access the blessed Nevados de Chillan.  My original trip plans had visions of getting a group of friends together along with a photog to have fun and get some “work” done in the snow and rocky peaks of the southern hemisphere before our season began up in the northern hemisphere.  Those dreams were dashed to pieces as many spent available funds on new Macbook Pros, cameras, or other trips, and the arrival of the horrible snow reports of the early season coming from South America. 

Undeterred by the lack of a group and lack of snow, needing an escape from the heat, inversion, and the drudges, and smoke and mirrors, of “real” life in our country, I pressed forward through the anxiety of no snow and going into the unknown alone.  But, that’s when the good stuff happens.  A few weeks before my departure, a recently new buddy recommended going to Nevados de Chillan.  He spoke of meters of fresh pow, adventures of hitchhiking up to the resort each day, and a sweet, cheap hostel right in the middle of town.  And to top it off, he had a buddy in Santiago that I could stay with before and after heading to Las Trancas.  With the unfolding of this potential adventure came the calming of the nerves.  Confidence, excitement, and smiles returned.  The three weeks leading up to the trip were filled with long hours in the office preparing proposals and briefs.  There was no rest for the weary.  I even had to give a personal briefing to my division director during dinner the night before I was to leave.    

I could see others heading south with ski boots and smiles through the sea of travelers at SLC.  The excitement and hopes was high.  As the extra pull of gravity inherently felt during takeoff dissipated, the pull of the day-to-day world of my life lost its cold grip, well, almost.  After staring at the storm clouds over Georgia during my descent into ATL, I decided to delete my work email account off of my phone while in Chile. Viva la revolucion!

The gate at ATL was filled with even more skiers.  The excitement and anxiety of little snow of those there spread through amongst the crowd quickly.  New friends were being made at every bench over discussions of trip plans, reports, previous experiences, and the unknown outcomes of new experiences.  It was here that I first met a “Reggie” from Ketchum that was heading down to do some guiding in Las Lenas.  He was pretty cool and it never came to me who he really was.  We talked about getting our seats moved next to each other to share a beer, but got distracted until boarding time.  Now I was one “short” Ambien filled flight away, but did manage to have a beer and a few scotches with my new acquaintance before shutting down.  Let the dreams begin, and in the morning we live the dreams.