It took all day to get here. We left Portland at 5:30 in the morning, connected at Dulles and Seattle, an hour long customs ordeal, then a three hour bus ride from the airport, through downtown Vancouver, and finally into the mountains.
I am skiing the mountains of Whistler-Blackcomb, British Columbia. It’s the equivalent of the Superbowl of skiing on the North American continent. If you have ever carved your edge into a corner of prime powder real estate, you know what I’m talking about. People come back from Whistler with tall tales about snowdrifts taller than the chairlift poles, bigger vertical than two Sugarloafs, or more beef than a McDonalds’ Quarter Pounder...whatever that means.
Unfortunately, I didn’t get a chance to see the mountain we’d be skiing on for the next week, but a walk through the village was enough to make me imagine how awesome the skiing is going to be tomorrow. Whistler-Blackcomb is not one mountain. They are two distinct peaks that are separated by a valley that descends to Village altitude. They have common base areas, but because the mountains are so large, the quicker way to get from peak to peak is, properly named, the Peak to Peak Gondola. It is just over a year old, commissioned in December, 2008.
While the food here is ridiculously overpriced, we were able to find a bargain at Mongolio Grill, where you compile your own stir fry dish and watch them cook it. Leave it to the Canadians to come up with this awesome concept. It’s so simple: you know what you’re putting in your dish, you see them make it in front of you, and if you don’t like what you’re eating, it’s your own damn fault (from someone who’s worked in the restaurant business for the better half of 10 years, that means a lot when it comes to disputing over comping a meal for some unappreciative douchebag).
Tomorrow is skiing day number one. Our goal is to not get hurt, and more importantly, not get overwhelmed with the sheer awesomeness.
No comments:
Post a Comment