Where are we
16 of us to be exact, making up a right motley crew.
Including my nephew Christopher. All staying in this:
Complete with industrial kitchen which I and another wannabee "field" chef nearly were the "F word" due to our limited knowledge on the workings of an oven the size of Krackatoa's pyroclastic surge. We managed to make it
bang
twice
Oh and then there was getting trapped in the walk in fridge when I almost became a double for the frozen body parts in an NCIS episode. Being trapped in the outdoor toilets at Gillshill Primary school aged 5 flashed before my eyes again, only this time I couldn't crawl underneath the door, I didn't have Ann Watson to scream with and no-one except P maybe would be taking a register to notice the gap and even he would have been dubious given the fact that we seemed to have brought half of Montana's liquor stores for the year and it was stored in the dedicated drinks cooler.
The view from our bedroom
The big question for us... to have a lesson or not to have a lesson? So we ventured out first morning on a sweeping green slope complete with C shown here up to his thighs in snow to see how disastrous we might be.
He was boarding
a) because that's what he likes to do and
b) you can scrape up more broken body parts with a board and there were 2 of us
One of the view's going up
Me coming on down upright
The views from where we set off usually:
You need to know that just after the corner of this vista there is a fork in the runs or in P's case a spanner in the works which leads to runs of the biological variety. As usual he was out in front (apparently physics stops him being anything else...) and he is of course far superior in his route finding skills, but not on the chicane; so I see him take the left fork and I hear the "Sharmaaaaaaaa........." and assume we will meet up halfway down because the avalanche he has just caused by his shout will have merged us all into one giant hairball looking effort destined to wipe out the entire apres ski, cocktail hour clan.
I complete my run, almost perfect 9.00s, including weeble manoeuvre (technical note for those of you too young to know...weebles wobble but they don't fall down) all the way down and I wait and I wait and I wait and then....
If ever a bunny in the headlights was transposed onto skis P was it. Remember when any Warner brother's cartoon character fell in love and the heart pounded ...pepe le piu etc, well that was how hard P's heart was beating. He couldn't speak for five minutes. His mouth opened but no sound came out.
He had taken a blue run first day...A lesson seemed pretty pointless now.
Apres ski in case you thought it was all action and no kulture, our friend G being a good sport with the oompah schnapps band ...no animals were harmed to achieve the result and yes it is a cheese on her head.
Day 2
The same green run, trying to master the last bit which it turned out was the bottom of the blue run. The green run route was marked by a sign only legible to snow pygmies...and before you all say it...snow pygmies are smaller than their Southern hemisphere counterparts and I don't qualify.
If one is going to fall it is so much better done in private don't you think...
Apparently P felt for me as did the entire ski fraternity sipping a lunchtime hot chocolate.
Lunch over, another green run under my belt no falls. Our more expert friends offer to take us on another green run they have found and off we set. Oh what is this one of them is really Spock, takes P behind a tree to conduct a mind meld and ......
I find myself on a blue run and it is the end of the day and I am utterly k.....d and every time I fall I am even more kn...d and then there is the ski guide at the bottom rubbing his ski's together looking like the vultures out of Snow White except they didn't have a ski coffin emblazoned with a bleeding obvious red cross for the bozo skier of the day.
D suggests I get a song in my head to take my mind off it and get into a rhythym ...I hear Mozart's Requiem. Eventually we find a green run but I am shot and have to do the whole thing virtually snow ploughing it, yes Mr Billam I was almost always paralleling it before then..
Should I have a lesson?
I do not and survive Day 3 being quite cautious. P decides to a conquer a blue run by choice and descends with C who manages the longest bum slide known to man or mountain goat followed by a chest to ground, face as snowplough duet with P.
My most dangerous effort of the day is to be dropped off about a mile from the house which is 7 miles from the main road in order to take pictures. P I could tell was a little worried by this:
"You will be fine? Please be careful? Don't go off the main road too much? Are you sure you will be alright?"
I wanted to capture a little tree in the snow and maybe see some aminals....
"I'll be fine, honest, look you can almost see the house. Bye yes bye, yes I'll be fine."
Bu...r left me hat in the car...Oh look here 5 feet in from the road, is the perfect 'ickle tree I'll just
"PHMPHMPHMPHMPHMPHM"
Eat snow, undersnow swim, snow tunnel, construct the next ice hotel...wear it on my head, go for the entire body look.
Walking through chest high snow is a great fat burner.
On the 4th day God declared accept your age and go to have a look at Yellowstone in the winter. Even though technically closed except by snow thingy there is a little bit of it you drive through.
By this point I had mastered falling in snow up to my chest for the sake of art.
This is the ongoing result of forest fire from 5 years go (I think) followed by what i think maybe my best shot of the trip.
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