Ski 09
Trip Start
Dec 29, 2007
1
40
42
Trip End
Ongoing
National Park Village,
North Island,
New Zealand
Friday, August 7, 2009
On entering our adopted home at midnight, the temperature plummet ensured I adopted the nether regions of a bodybuilder. Inside it was fairly bare & compact but had a cozy looking modern fireplace which we set a ablaze faster than an arsonist in the Californian summer. It was very county council like; one lit while 9 supervised. After whipping up sandwiches for the day ahead we shuddered into our sleeping bags.
groupy back of cottage
Fortunately somebody took one for the team & fed the fire through the night so resurrecting ourselves wasn't a big ordeal next day. We had an annual supply of firewood which helped. Locked & loaded we joined the mob. The steward directed us towards carpark 8 as the upper parks had filled. The forecast had been pretty epic so naturally word had got round. Once we deciphered the best deal ($300 each for boots, skis & lift pass for 3 days) & survived the bedlam of the rental area which was the most arduous task all weekend we set off like lambs to the slaughter.
Having boarded last year I apparently had lost all ability to ski. My first day stunts were all X-games worthy, none intentional but the falls left their stamp. Apart from a little fog near the end & the odd close call with the locals we were halfway between nirvana & a pint of Murphys. Again the apres ski atmosphere matched the vibrancy of a Vatican confession so after the stampede for the showers we sampled the local cerveza a-la-supermarket-slab in our toasty crib. Not even a game of Uno could keep us from our forty winks as the previous 24 hours took its toll.
Typically everyones standard climbed on day two & the falls grew fewer
d and v
. Kiwis notably still came out in their droves visible in the mornings as they continued shuttles from the more distant carparks to the top. With 7 of us skiing together it might appear choosing a run would lead to conflict. Besides the incessant profanity it was quite diplomatic. We even had time for a kick about in the evening before proceeding with the perpetual feast of pasta & tomato sauce combined with the sacred Tui.The final day stuttered to a start as the upper mountain closed due to the gusting wind & fog. Many absconded & although tempted to take the high road we stuck around roaring The power of Christ compels you. Lo & behold in under an hour we were singing Summer Is Icumin In as our blue sky returned, everything opened & we had an empty mountain virtually to ourselves. The mouthwatering scenery as always took the full brunt of our camera flashes. If the blagards had not denied us one more run we would still be there.
