I am so far behind on my blogs but at least Im writing them in the order that they happened! It gives me incentive to work harder to get more done so I can get to the awesome stuff that is happening right now or just recently (like more protests, hitch hiking 70 kms, a weekend trip to Vicuna and hiking with Dan and Ian).
For this post, I’m going to write all about my first time skiing in the Andes about tenish days ago.
A van picked us up at either seven or six in the morning outside our hotel. I forget which it was but the sun was only just coming up so I’ll stick with six. The nine of us were dropped at the rental place and it took about two hours for everybody to get there gear before we started one of the most beautiful drives of my life. We headed towards the mountains and then started to climb up winding roads surrounded on either side by steep cactus infested slopes. No snow yet, but we could see it covering the mountains in the distance. We continued to wind back and forth up the one mountain until the snow surrounded us. The roads were slick and most drivers pulled over to put chains on their tires for better gip in the snow. Not our driver though. He whizzed by all of cars on the side of the road, even swerving around a van that had spun out.
We were suddenly surrounded by a field of white mountains and the resort was in sight, still above us. Out of the window I could see a few people skiing through untouched snow on their way down to the road. I was so jealous! We finally got there and began skiing around 12:30. Karl and I were together for the first hour before meeting up with the other seven. The best part about it was the view, on all sides we could look out at the beautiful snowy mountains. There were so many it looked as if there was nothing else for the rest of the world. The snow was perfect, even though we started so late. It wasn’t skied off at all there was no ice, it was still soft, thick, and even.
The thing that was most different about resorts in the US was that there was not a single tree on the mountain. The trails were groomed but the only thing separating them was open patches of untouched snow, a few ski and board trails slicing through them. We skied through the perfect snow until the mountain closed at five. I went into the deep powder once and I realized I have no idea how to ski it. It was so deep that when Karl fell , he couldn’t find his ski for almost five minutes. Although we only got to ski for four and a half hours, it was an unbelievable day. The view alone was worth the price of the lift ticket and rentals. As we drove back to the city at the end of the day the burning orange sun set behind those endless white mountains.