Snow I have a new talent

Like a duck to water, like a dog with a boner, I was all over that mountain (not sure what it was called but it was some bloke's called Andy's) like white on rice. The first hour was hideous, a lesson with Sebastion, a little pocket rocket from Chile. I couldn't stand up, nor could I move, I considered switching to skiing at a hideous cost or faking a hamstring injury and retiring to the clubhouse. However, being the tough son of a bitch I am, I stuck it out and could soon snake down the baby slope at walking pace keeping a VERY close eye on the many other un-gifted people around me. The next challenge was those farking pulley lifts up the mountain which hook up under your arse and drag you up the mountain = arse over tit everytime and started carrying my board up the mountain on foot like a loser. Eventually though I started nailing 60-70% of the pulley lift attempts. Then due to mothers and children pushing in incessantly on the baby slopes, I made the decision the take it to the next level up; a steep bastard with a outright evil pulley lift. By the end of the day I was riding the big pulley lift all the way to the top (except the last one of the day where I was dragged up cos I stacked it and refused to let go of the pulley), and racing down the mountain sideways, backwards, frontwards, upwards and downways without trouble.





Arturo the guide man dude and Fraser the English man fella.

Fraser = pasty & vulnerabe + sunblock & hat - broken sunglasses + ham and cheese sandwiches @ lunch = good day's snowboarding.





Dan the Dutchman and Ben the Man-chester-man. Dan is, at this stage, totally unaware that he is currently working on (through his lack of respect for the harsh Chilean sun) the greatest Reverse Lone Ranger face I have ever seen.

Dan and me (wearing my Scandinavian Fisherman outfit). Call me ignorant, but I was very unaware of how farking hot it can get on a snow capped mountain. I came this close to taking it off and taking to the slopes topless.


These are those mental pulley lift things from the dark ages. Why is it we can put a man on the moon but we have to drag an Australian up a slope by a garden hose attached to an arse-diving dinner plate.


What a view! And look there are some mountains as well.



A re-enactment of me climbing (sans gloves for extra toughness) solo style up an almost vertical, icy slope to avoid the embarrassment of eating snow as I am thrown sideways from the pulley lift while small, fully decked out children pass me unaided.

There goes one of the little turds now. Covered head to toe in top-of-the-line gear and hideously capable. I swear women bring them only so they can push in at the pulley lifts.