Wednesday, March 30, 2016

Gold, (gold), always believe in your soul



Easter just came and went. This year I did the same thing as I did last year, though in may ways it was different. For informational purposes, I have indicated things [same] or [different] in the following narrative. If that just freaked you right out, just look at the pictures. That's what's I'd do.

On Thursday last week I signed out of work for the last time until September [different]. Thanks to having chosen Canada as my adopted home, Lina and I can share a year of parental leave. I didn't realize when I came to Canada that is was such a great place to have children because I was mostly interested in bicycles. Whilst I am still very interested in bicycles [same], since The Tav arrived on the scene I have become perhaps even more interested in him [different]. It's hard to explain why someone who can't move or communicate emotions more complex than "I'm OK" or "I'm Mr Angry" is so interesting, so I won't bother. It just is [different].

So back to skiing. Some of us are hard of thinking, or compulsive sufferers [same] so decided to climb into the cabin ourselves rather than take the helicopter that we'd paid for. We then decided to take the long route and add a few extra hills and kilometers to the experience. I cannot explain why I chose this option [same]. However, I was in good company with Chris, Kala, Chuck, and the inevitable Guillaume. There was a lot of sweating, some pretty good skiing, and most memorably a boot-pack up frozen mud - which for the record Guillaume thought was fun.

The one in the yellow trousers is to blame for this sort of thing.
[same]
Once we met up with the rest of the gang, the food, and the beer at the Eldorado cabin, the actual fun could begin. Almost immediately, we realized we'd fallen foul of the trap. This is the trap that springs upon you when you have a helicopter carry your frozen moussaka to the cabin - I can't imagine why this pernicious affliction isn't more widely known. Anyway, we were sprung. Having realized we were in the hole food-wise, we had four days to make up the deficit and eat our way though the problem. But enough of problems, here are some pictures of skiing.

Paul, still living the Telemark dream, farming some turns.
[same]

Chuck, chucking himself.
[same]

Chef de pamplemousse, exploring the boundary between dark and light.
Apparently I can't eat like I used to [different]. However, between the group we managed to pull through and eat our way out of our predicament. Our final meal in the hut was a fitting "greatest hits" of the preceding days with all the leftovers heated up in one lucky-dip pan. Somehow Guillaume found the last remaining nugget of tartiflette in the last spoonful. If that's not proof of fate, I don't know what is.

I haven't really described the conditions, so if you're into that sort of thing... here we go: 180cm base [different], no persistent weaknesses, 15cm new snow on Sunday, big cornices. That's about all I have to say about that. Most importantly, the sun shone, snow flew up in the air, and no-one broke anything. I did do my best to break the solar power system in the cabin, but even attacking it in a slightly inebriated state with an adjustable wrench made it start working where it hadn't worked before. I must be losing my touch.

If you look closely, you can see our tracks....

Guillaume summarizes the trip.
After all that fun, I enjoyed the quiet drive home [different] and went to sleep. Whilst my backcountry ski season was condensed into four days, I feel pretty satisfied with it. Although I'm home, I have to wait until Thursday to be reunited with Tav and Lina, but in the meantime I do get to see what they've been up to for Easter thanks to Facebook and I have bicycles to keep me occupied [same].

"I will wreak my vengeance upon you"