A quick update on the boys poker school that has been going on all week.
Final results are as follows
Ash 4 wins 3 second places.
Rhod 3 wins 3 second places.
Phil 1 win 2 second places.
Final Cash standings
Ash £35 up.
Rhod £20 up.
Phil £15 down.
Kev £40 down.
Kev's lack of appearance on the score sheet should be viewed as the philanthropic act of a beginner, that way he won’t hit us and might pay up the money he owes.
Thursday, 2 April 2009
Don't try this at home.
The boys decided to demonstrate some jumps they'd perfected over the week in front of a chop house full of enthusiastic supporters. A nice downhil run with a pleasant lip providing the perfect launching pad. Here we see Rhod demonstrating how to nail the almost perfect landing, for which he recieved 7.4 from the judges.
Note. These jumps were performed by professional idiots on a closed area of off-piste. Do not try this at home, even if you can find a way of getting snow at the bottom of your stairs.
9.0
Ash gives a perfect example of his signature move, "Loose hands". He later admits that this was a last minute change of plan from his standard jump "Corporal Punsihment". Still, a nice move with plenty of skills on show.
9.9
A bit of ad-libbing this time as Rhod demonstrates "The Plover". Only a loose Camelback water pipe preventing him from achieving top marks.
Wednesday, 1 April 2009
Breaking news: It’s Déjà vu all over again!
News has just arrived fresh from the hill (Carrier Marmot) that a spat has erupted between tourists Evans and Carrick. Apparently Mr Carrick has taken the huge media interest in Evans’s tree incident last year as a personal slight. His response was both swift and devastating; he rode headlong into a tree. Not the most original of headline grabbers I’ll grant you, but effective nonetheless. As usual we aim to provide film footage of this curious event including a diagram of how he managed to extract himself unaided from what some observers have disparagingly described as “a very small bush”.
We hold our breath.
Time for an update.
We’ve arrived safe and well, no drama and no mishaps. An amusing evening in Lyon to start the holiday including a couple of French student bars. The students all appeared to be intent on out-frenching each other. Everywhere one looked there was a plethora of scraggly beards, pebble glasses and berets accompanied by the unmistakable whiff of Gaulloise. The only missing element from this pastiche was a chap in a blue striped jumper selling onions from his bicycle. We hung around for a bit but……
So, what’s the opposite of an all-in holiday? I’m not sure what they’re called but we’re on one. Obviously during these days of financial rectitude the boy’s paid close attention to costs when booking the holiday. Having said that there are a number of things one takes for granted. Certainly towels would be part of the deal in most places, but five quid per person for towels??? No thanks, we could buy some for that. I’d like to watch TV please? What’s that you say? Forty pounds? FORTY POUNDS? No. No thanks. Bugger off. You can also pay fifty quid to pay for your room to be cleaned. Guess what we decided to do??
Anyway, that’s the downside, the upside is plenty of snow, lots of nice runs and no queues. We’ve bagged quite a bit of the hill so far and it all seems quite nice. My only complaint would be the fog, which seems to be a bit persistent at the moment. On a lighter note I had an amusing few minutes chasing a runaway snowboard today (a first for me). Ash had left his board standing proudly in line with the rest of our planks in the snow at one of the nicer secluded mountain chop-houses. We’d been there a good quarter of an hour enjoying the sunshine when after listing to port for a minute or two the board fell over. We all laughed, and then it started moving, gathered a bit of speed and disappeared over the edge of the piste. Oh dear. I dashed over to my board, clipped in and without a thought for personal safety, launched myself into the fog that had suddenly appeared from nowhere. Thirty seconds later I’m on the middle of a piste with skiers passing either side, but no sign of the errant board. Fortunately the fog lifted and there it was about fifty yards away nestling in the snow like a bolted horse cropping the sweet grass of freedom. But with snow.
Apologies for the lack of updates but the French have focussed on the ‘less’ aspect of wireless which requires one to be in a certain room at a certain time wearing a pink carnation and sporting a financial times under your arm.
That's it for now, we're all suffering a bit today, partly due to the massive all dayer we had on the hill yesterday and partially because we stayed up late celebrating Ash's birthday.
More soon, inc pictures.
Thursday, 26 March 2009
Dawn Of The Shred
As the ever eloquent elucidator exemplifies earlier, we are almost on our way to the wonderfully titled Savoie (Savouè d'Avâl) Department in the French Alps, and more specifically to Valmeinier in which we have intentions of laying down long, sweeping carves over the piste, bowls and trees (Rhodri has fine form carving into trees, see the previous post Re-live the fateful day.)
But before we can show the EuroMalingerers the sick moves honed by two seasons of North American Hardcore Shred we need to get there. This does involve driving through idyll, as I imagine the Paris-Lyon leg of our journey will become with the rolling countryside surrounding us. It's the EuroTunnel portion that gets me little anxious - a travel fire extinguisher has been packed just in case.
But of course we jest. We have utmost respect for all things French and German and will be representing the courteous demeanour that our Continental Cousins come to expect of the British. SO great care must be taken not to mention any of the following:
- 'Jokes' about the war (or about the other war (in fact all wars))
- Politics
- The Feckin Credit Crunch
- Cultural Stereotypes
Adieu
Tuesday, 24 March 2009
What the Dickens?
Great Expectations.
Well, the school bell is about to ring and we’re all set to go. Bags packed, socks rolled up, snowboards waxed and pants turned inside out.
What can we expect from this years winter sojourn I wonder? Let’s look at the facts.
Firstly we start the week with a lovely road trip through the delightful French countryside during early springtime. The opportunity to sample the sights as we cruise down empty autoroutes is one not to be missed. Spring is in the air, the buds are bursting from their winters shell, the birds are singing and hygiene conscious Frenchmen are contemplating a new pair of underpants.
A Tale of Two Cities.
Once we arrive at our destination, the twin resorts of Valloire and Valmeinier the fun really starts. There are plenty of runs to explore, nineteen greens, twenty five blues twenty one reds and eight cheeky blacks to complete the set. The boys, keen to let their OCD* tendencies flourish, plan to try and “Bag” as many of them as possible. There are nine mountain restaurants “Chop Houses” if you will, which we also plan to visit as part of the overall mountain experience. Our only hope is that there aren’t too many mogul runs. These are normally fairly steep pistes which our skier friends, for reasons best known to themselves then turn into “The Devils Goosbumps”. Suffice to say most snowboarders find them tedious and unnecessary in the extreme.
Bleak House.
Attention now turns to the accommodation and facilities.
Well, the school bell is about to ring and we’re all set to go. Bags packed, socks rolled up, snowboards waxed and pants turned inside out.
What can we expect from this years winter sojourn I wonder? Let’s look at the facts.
Firstly we start the week with a lovely road trip through the delightful French countryside during early springtime. The opportunity to sample the sights as we cruise down empty autoroutes is one not to be missed. Spring is in the air, the buds are bursting from their winters shell, the birds are singing and hygiene conscious Frenchmen are contemplating a new pair of underpants.
A Tale of Two Cities.
Once we arrive at our destination, the twin resorts of Valloire and Valmeinier the fun really starts. There are plenty of runs to explore, nineteen greens, twenty five blues twenty one reds and eight cheeky blacks to complete the set. The boys, keen to let their OCD* tendencies flourish, plan to try and “Bag” as many of them as possible. There are nine mountain restaurants “Chop Houses” if you will, which we also plan to visit as part of the overall mountain experience. Our only hope is that there aren’t too many mogul runs. These are normally fairly steep pistes which our skier friends, for reasons best known to themselves then turn into “The Devils Goosbumps”. Suffice to say most snowboarders find them tedious and unnecessary in the extreme.
Bleak House.
Attention now turns to the accommodation and facilities.
The brochure claims “Les Hauts de Valmeinier, built “Chalet-Style”, is situated directly on the slope in the highest part of Valmeinier. Restaurants, supermarkets and sports shops are located nearby. The centre of Valmeinier is only approx 250m away. The accommodation has a pool and fitness room.”
TRANSLATION
“Les Hauts de Valmeinier is a small apartment halfway up a mountain near the top of a lift, close to a recent avalanche. Shops are approx 250m away down a cliff. The accommodation has a pool which will be full of Germans and a gym gathering dust.”
Amusingly the brochure also claims the apartment is “Spacious by French standards”. I think I can now safely reveal, having received all monies for the holiday, that we will be staying in German owned accommodation, hence their withering appraisal of French habitation standards. At least the lifts will be on time.
The swimming pool has caused quite a bit of excitement prior to departure and as is often the case in these sort of resorts, the house rules differ somewhat from the usual British stuff. No bombing, diving, heavy petting etc has been replaced by “Boxer style swim shorts not allowed in pool!” One can only presume this is on grounds of hygiene, although why the French have chosen to go over the top on this item is odd when you consider their usual bohemian approach to personal cleanliness. I guess it’s the German influence again.
Hard Times.
What will the weather be like? Frankly I don’t know. I do expect there to be some snow and some sun, probably a bit of wind as well. I could check with the BBC weather centre, but frankly I’d be better off consulting a bit of seaweed in a jam jar. The best part about going at this time of year is the prospect of sunshine late into the evening something that will allow the boys to rest their weary legs in the evening calm, drink in hand, sunglasses perched jauntily on the forehead and after-sun soothing frazzled skin. Just remember not to fall asleep as it can get a bit parky later on.
The Lazy Tour of Two Idle Apprentices.
And what of our hosts? It’s an interesting part of the world. Whilst in France we’re only a couple of miles from Northern Italy (The smartly attired posh ones). Stranger still, we’ll be surrounded by Germans, something the French and Italians have had a bit more practice at than us. All in all an eclectic mix of nationalities, let’s hope we can all be friends.
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*OCD. Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.
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Monday, 9 March 2009
They're Back!
Yes!
Yes! It’s that time of year again. Your favourite humorous self aggrandising holiday blog is back, and this time, we’re frivolous.
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Gravity!
This years top mountain destination is the Valmeinier-Valloire combination of the French region Savoie. The area has all the ingredients us monkeys need for a week of gravity powered fun. It’s cheap too!
This years top mountain destination is the Valmeinier-Valloire combination of the French region Savoie. The area has all the ingredients us monkeys need for a week of gravity powered fun. It’s cheap too!
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Sumptuous!
Regular readers will no doubt be confused by this years choice of a European destination. One only has to consider the fulsome praise lavished on our North American resorts last season where sumptuous on-piste dining and comfort facilities scored particularly well compared with their dowdy European counterparts.
The circumstances surrounding the shift of venue this year are diverse. Some of the team felt keenly about a responsibility to reduce our carbon footprint…… particularly whilst the dollar is so strong compared to the ailing pound. No ten hour flight to San Francisco for us this year. Shamefaced at our previous attitude towards transatlantic air travel we going green and relying on the good old motor car to get us where we want to go. A resolution to support the larger European family and a philanthropic desire to prop up the ailing French economy has certainly played its part in the recent volte-face. Frankly though it’s the credit-crunch that has had the most telling impact on our choice this year, that and the perpetually mystifying lack of “Fat Cat” style bonuses. “Cheap and cheerful please, were all skint".
Regular readers will no doubt be confused by this years choice of a European destination. One only has to consider the fulsome praise lavished on our North American resorts last season where sumptuous on-piste dining and comfort facilities scored particularly well compared with their dowdy European counterparts.
The circumstances surrounding the shift of venue this year are diverse. Some of the team felt keenly about a responsibility to reduce our carbon footprint…… particularly whilst the dollar is so strong compared to the ailing pound. No ten hour flight to San Francisco for us this year. Shamefaced at our previous attitude towards transatlantic air travel we going green and relying on the good old motor car to get us where we want to go. A resolution to support the larger European family and a philanthropic desire to prop up the ailing French economy has certainly played its part in the recent volte-face. Frankly though it’s the credit-crunch that has had the most telling impact on our choice this year, that and the perpetually mystifying lack of “Fat Cat” style bonuses. “Cheap and cheerful please, were all skint".
Van?
So who’s going? Perennial tourists Phil Ashworth an Rhodri Evans will once again be leading the van in the assault on Europes finest slopes. The battle is further joined by two more crowd-pleasing picks and returning tourists Kevin Carrick and Ashley Georgeson to make up what can rightly be considered something of a touring dream team. (Think Harlem Globetrotters on snow)
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Exotic.
Tell me more about the resort blogmaster! I hear you say. Well, the two villages of Valloire and Valmeinier straddle the three small valleys that make up the Galibier-Thabor ski area. Only a couple of miles from Italy there are plenty of resorts in the proximity. Indeed the team are provisionally planning an excursion to the exotic delights of Sauze d’Oulx which is just the other side of the Frejus tunnel. It's a re-visit for one of the monkeys, but who???
Austrians?
One facet of the holiday we are anticipating an improvement on compared with last season is in the crucial area of Apres-Ski. No-one does mental snow related disco-bar-restaurants like the French, except perhaps the Austrians. But we’re not going there so it’s “bonjour” Pierre and “he-he-he-he-he-hello” badly mixed Europop.
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Ramping!
Countdown posts will be ramping up the excitement over the next couple of weeks in preparation for departure on the 27th of March, live updates being available soon after. A new addition this year will see the introduction of a “Cut out and Keep” list of runs completed all strictly categorised for the budding obsessive-compulsive amongst you. (A first for a British Blogsite)
Countdown posts will be ramping up the excitement over the next couple of weeks in preparation for departure on the 27th of March, live updates being available soon after. A new addition this year will see the introduction of a “Cut out and Keep” list of runs completed all strictly categorised for the budding obsessive-compulsive amongst you. (A first for a British Blogsite)
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See you soon.
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Rhodri.
Thursday, 3 July 2008
La Lindarets bites back.
A nasty fall on the hill for Andy today as he launched himself of his bike at speed, coming down the Mosette-La Lindarets fire road.
The trails had dried out nicely after yesterdays torrential thunderstorms (again). So the team set out for a pleasant little spin over to Switzerland. The weather was fantastic and the trails were grippy. A couple of steady runs down from Avoriaz and we headed across to the Mosette lift to take us over the top and into the land of chocolate and cuckoo clocks. Disappointingly the massive Mosette lift had been struck by lightening the previous day and wouldn’t be open for a couple of hours, so we decided to take the alternative route from a mile or so down the hill in La Lindarets.
Off we set and with Andy and myself at the front. The fire trail is a really quick and straightforward hack down the hill. However, to spice things up most mountain roads of this type have drainage ditches running across them at an oblique angle. Usually these pose no problem, particularly if you see them and are ready for their arrival. You can guess the rest. I slowed significantly for the last one before we dropped into La Lindarets, however I could hear Andy approaching behind. The crunch of gravel suddenly turned into the crash of metal and rock. Immediately everyone rushed to get to him lying in the middle of the road. I’d turned to ride back up the hill and as I did I saw Dave walk to him and without stopping start running to the phone which luckily was only a couple of hundred meters away at the nearest lift.
Most of the damage was clearly apparent, a huge gash above one knee and bad cuts on the other, this despite a fair amount of body armour. Cuts to the face and some problems with both hands all added up to a pretty nasty situation. It was with some relief that he appeared coherent and despite his injuries was not in a great deal of pain. Nonetheless we wanted to get him off the hill as soon as possible.
A couple of minutes in and Andy appeared to be calm and the situation had moved from dangerous to just nasty. The bleeding wasn’t too heavy and he just seemed to have suffered his major injuries on the extremities, so after taking some photos for posterity, we started thinking about what to do next.
We were a good six miles from home and we now had to think about getting Andy’s bike and gear off the hill, so I set off on my own to go and get the car. Cycling down a road that drops a good eight hundred meters in six miles meant it didn’t take me long for me to get back and I arrived up the hill in the car shortly after the ambulance had picked him up.
The ambulance had taken him (and Russ for company) to the nearest accident and emergency hospital in Thonon on Lake Geneva, about thirty miles away. Luckily I knew exactly where this was from previous visits to the alps with similarly unfortunate mates. Popping back to the chalet to drop the gear off, we collected some essentials, (clothes, books phones etc) and headed off to Thonon. Sure enough he was at the Georges Pianta hospital and we found him and Russ easily enough in the A&E department.
One thing I did find strange was, in the waiting room of the A&E they had a TV set to amuse the worried friends and family of accident victims. Rather distastefully it appeared to be showing wall to wall hospital dramas of a sub-Casualty genre. Inappropriate I think.
Anyway, after a bit of waiting around (three to four hours) we were delighted to discover that Andy was patched up sufficiently that we could bring him back to the chalet. So, after a bit of a faff whilst we clothed him we went to leave. Somehow we also picked up a random Dutchman who had also pulled a fetlock on the hill and was in urgent need of a lift back to Morzine. A quick stop at the pharmacie to empty them of prescription drugs and we were off.
All in all an unusual day. Still we managed to top it off with a Tartiflette and some beers at the Cavern and Buddha bars.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tartiflette
http://www.morzineseason.com/bars.html
The trails had dried out nicely after yesterdays torrential thunderstorms (again). So the team set out for a pleasant little spin over to Switzerland. The weather was fantastic and the trails were grippy. A couple of steady runs down from Avoriaz and we headed across to the Mosette lift to take us over the top and into the land of chocolate and cuckoo clocks. Disappointingly the massive Mosette lift had been struck by lightening the previous day and wouldn’t be open for a couple of hours, so we decided to take the alternative route from a mile or so down the hill in La Lindarets.
Off we set and with Andy and myself at the front. The fire trail is a really quick and straightforward hack down the hill. However, to spice things up most mountain roads of this type have drainage ditches running across them at an oblique angle. Usually these pose no problem, particularly if you see them and are ready for their arrival. You can guess the rest. I slowed significantly for the last one before we dropped into La Lindarets, however I could hear Andy approaching behind. The crunch of gravel suddenly turned into the crash of metal and rock. Immediately everyone rushed to get to him lying in the middle of the road. I’d turned to ride back up the hill and as I did I saw Dave walk to him and without stopping start running to the phone which luckily was only a couple of hundred meters away at the nearest lift.
Most of the damage was clearly apparent, a huge gash above one knee and bad cuts on the other, this despite a fair amount of body armour. Cuts to the face and some problems with both hands all added up to a pretty nasty situation. It was with some relief that he appeared coherent and despite his injuries was not in a great deal of pain. Nonetheless we wanted to get him off the hill as soon as possible.
A couple of minutes in and Andy appeared to be calm and the situation had moved from dangerous to just nasty. The bleeding wasn’t too heavy and he just seemed to have suffered his major injuries on the extremities, so after taking some photos for posterity, we started thinking about what to do next.
We were a good six miles from home and we now had to think about getting Andy’s bike and gear off the hill, so I set off on my own to go and get the car. Cycling down a road that drops a good eight hundred meters in six miles meant it didn’t take me long for me to get back and I arrived up the hill in the car shortly after the ambulance had picked him up.
The ambulance had taken him (and Russ for company) to the nearest accident and emergency hospital in Thonon on Lake Geneva, about thirty miles away. Luckily I knew exactly where this was from previous visits to the alps with similarly unfortunate mates. Popping back to the chalet to drop the gear off, we collected some essentials, (clothes, books phones etc) and headed off to Thonon. Sure enough he was at the Georges Pianta hospital and we found him and Russ easily enough in the A&E department.
One thing I did find strange was, in the waiting room of the A&E they had a TV set to amuse the worried friends and family of accident victims. Rather distastefully it appeared to be showing wall to wall hospital dramas of a sub-Casualty genre. Inappropriate I think.
Anyway, after a bit of waiting around (three to four hours) we were delighted to discover that Andy was patched up sufficiently that we could bring him back to the chalet. So, after a bit of a faff whilst we clothed him we went to leave. Somehow we also picked up a random Dutchman who had also pulled a fetlock on the hill and was in urgent need of a lift back to Morzine. A quick stop at the pharmacie to empty them of prescription drugs and we were off.
All in all an unusual day. Still we managed to top it off with a Tartiflette and some beers at the Cavern and Buddha bars.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tartiflette
http://www.morzineseason.com/bars.html
Tuesday, 1 July 2008
Wet, Wet, Wet.
Three days in and things are going much as expected. My bike has been in the shop twice, both times for brake related maintenance. Hmmm. Having initially thought I could get away with a new cable I soon realised that my manly frame required something more substantial up front as a means of slowing me down. So, credit card at the ready I invested in a brand spanking new Hope Mono M4 with floating disc and braided cables up front. (Those in the know will now suck their teeth appreciatively. While those who aren’t won’t give a monkeys)
Anyhoo, having finally found something capable of arresting forward progress whenever I need it, I set off up the hill today with renewed vigour.
Straight aout of the box things were going well. So delighted was I that I promptly launched myself off the front of the handlebars and down a little ditch. The usual excuses didn’t apply as on this occasion I hit a the corner of a house which (I swear) seemed to leap out at me as I was taking the little bend. No permanent damage, since nobody witnessed the incident and my backside, ribs and shoulder broke my fall. Some nice bruises and a couple of sexy scrams to show for my efforts. All this was spookily reminiscent of my little tumble in Utah a few months ago, other than I was on a bike and it wasn’t snowing.
The afternoon was good lots of good riding until the clouds opened and dumped half the Atlantic on us. The lightening started to worry us and we dicedid a ski lift wasn't the best means of transport home. Not to worry though as the local mountain restaurants cater very well for weary, wet thirsty riders. A long spin back to the chalet through La Lindaret (Goat Village) as we circumnavigated the lift system which finally found us back in Morzine in time for a spot of wine and tea and a chance to pop some new brake pads in.
Pictures may well start appearing so as long as the French find a translation for Broadband. If you can see a picture of Alex prior to his crash then I guess they've worked it out.
Anyhoo, having finally found something capable of arresting forward progress whenever I need it, I set off up the hill today with renewed vigour.
Straight aout of the box things were going well. So delighted was I that I promptly launched myself off the front of the handlebars and down a little ditch. The usual excuses didn’t apply as on this occasion I hit a the corner of a house which (I swear) seemed to leap out at me as I was taking the little bend. No permanent damage, since nobody witnessed the incident and my backside, ribs and shoulder broke my fall. Some nice bruises and a couple of sexy scrams to show for my efforts. All this was spookily reminiscent of my little tumble in Utah a few months ago, other than I was on a bike and it wasn’t snowing.
The afternoon was good lots of good riding until the clouds opened and dumped half the Atlantic on us. The lightening started to worry us and we dicedid a ski lift wasn't the best means of transport home. Not to worry though as the local mountain restaurants cater very well for weary, wet thirsty riders. A long spin back to the chalet through La Lindaret (Goat Village) as we circumnavigated the lift system which finally found us back in Morzine in time for a spot of wine and tea and a chance to pop some new brake pads in.
Pictures may well start appearing so as long as the French find a translation for Broadband. If you can see a picture of Alex prior to his crash then I guess they've worked it out.
Sunday, 29 June 2008
The Monkey Has Landed.
Morzine at last.
As most of us know, things don’t always go to plan. My original ideas was to pootle down to Ashford on Friday afternoon and await Mr Redwoods leisurely arrival was thrown slightly askew when his car broke down on the way home from work. So a breathless dash to Cardiff and on to the tunnel found us arriving with only 8 minutes to spare before the check-in for the journey closed. We then spent an hour waiting while they conducted ‘essential maintenance’ (had a fag and a cup of tea).
Luckily this was the only exciting thing to happen on the journey. So far so good.
So today was the first day on the hill. Everyone is excited and busy fettling their bikes. Apart from me. I’m just excited.
The first few runs are ok. It all comes back very quickly. Mainly the day is all about getting your eye in and gasping at the wonderful views on offer. My outing was curtailed slightly when I popped a brake cable in the early afternoon, but this time (as opposed to the occasion four years ago) there was no smoke and I was able to stop without the assistance of the local flora. So this afternoon has seen me enjoy a nice meal and a couple of beers.
More exciting stuff later in the week.
As most of us know, things don’t always go to plan. My original ideas was to pootle down to Ashford on Friday afternoon and await Mr Redwoods leisurely arrival was thrown slightly askew when his car broke down on the way home from work. So a breathless dash to Cardiff and on to the tunnel found us arriving with only 8 minutes to spare before the check-in for the journey closed. We then spent an hour waiting while they conducted ‘essential maintenance’ (had a fag and a cup of tea).
Luckily this was the only exciting thing to happen on the journey. So far so good.
So today was the first day on the hill. Everyone is excited and busy fettling their bikes. Apart from me. I’m just excited.
The first few runs are ok. It all comes back very quickly. Mainly the day is all about getting your eye in and gasping at the wonderful views on offer. My outing was curtailed slightly when I popped a brake cable in the early afternoon, but this time (as opposed to the occasion four years ago) there was no smoke and I was able to stop without the assistance of the local flora. So this afternoon has seen me enjoy a nice meal and a couple of beers.
More exciting stuff later in the week.
Wednesday, 14 May 2008
Powder Monkeys Are Expanding
Yes, It’s the news we’ve all been waiting for. Powder Monkey Holidays Inc are branching out into the exciting sister sport of Mountain Biking. You can now follow the exploits of your favourite Monkeys as they travel the world enjoying a wider range of mountain-centric vacation activities, with the emphasis still firmly on going down them at pace. We’ll be offering the same brand of banal holiday titbits as before, but with the exotic combination of less snow, more mud, shorts and body armour and (in all likelihood) more injuries.
The first venture into the muddy world of alpine mountain biking comes at the end June when Powder Monkey regular Rhodri Evans will join biking guru Alex Redwood on a trip to popular summer getaway Morzine, in the French Alps.
Despite being a Rookie Powder Monkey Mr Redwood has a wealth of experience in his chosen vacational field, having travelled the world in search of the best trails, finest riding comrades and most sophisticated of exotic ales. And Desperados.
As usual, when we can be arsed, we’ll be providing an occasional commentary on the weeks activities, photos and x-rays where applicable. We will also contain updates on the various new components we’ve been forced to purchase through reckless disregard for our beloved bikes mechanicals.
Updates will begin in earnest during June. Excitingly, we are considering offering an alternative, sanitised site for loved ones who may not wish to read about the various crashes and near misses sustained during the week by their nearest and dearest. This site will also suggest the participants are regretting coming away from friends and family and are in fact counting the days until they return from the hell-hole that is the Haute Savoie region.
On the subject of misinformation, any tales of daring-do and heroic riding by Rhodri should be taken with a pinch of salt. See if you can spot any pictures where he’s airbrushed out the shopping basket from the handlebars of his bike and replaced it with a sun bleached mountain goat skull.
The first venture into the muddy world of alpine mountain biking comes at the end June when Powder Monkey regular Rhodri Evans will join biking guru Alex Redwood on a trip to popular summer getaway Morzine, in the French Alps.
Despite being a Rookie Powder Monkey Mr Redwood has a wealth of experience in his chosen vacational field, having travelled the world in search of the best trails, finest riding comrades and most sophisticated of exotic ales. And Desperados.
As usual, when we can be arsed, we’ll be providing an occasional commentary on the weeks activities, photos and x-rays where applicable. We will also contain updates on the various new components we’ve been forced to purchase through reckless disregard for our beloved bikes mechanicals.
Updates will begin in earnest during June. Excitingly, we are considering offering an alternative, sanitised site for loved ones who may not wish to read about the various crashes and near misses sustained during the week by their nearest and dearest. This site will also suggest the participants are regretting coming away from friends and family and are in fact counting the days until they return from the hell-hole that is the Haute Savoie region.
On the subject of misinformation, any tales of daring-do and heroic riding by Rhodri should be taken with a pinch of salt. See if you can spot any pictures where he’s airbrushed out the shopping basket from the handlebars of his bike and replaced it with a sun bleached mountain goat skull.
Saturday, 15 March 2008
The Best Damn Craphouse In The West.
It’s a cliché to say that everything in America is bigger and better. Well, when it comes to mountain facilities, they are. At least, they are in Snowbasin mountain resort.
Without wanting to single any one nation out, such as France. Were you to go to a European resort and enjoy a spot of refreshment on the piste, then require a modicum of relief before resuming on your merry (literally) way, you might find yourself in a European style ‘pissoire’. We've all been there, but for those not fortunate enough to have sampled the delights of these establishments let me set the scene.
Firstly, one is greeted by a smell that one would usually associate with far more temperate conditions than those found at the top of a frozen alp. Then of course there’s the gnomic local type who scowls menacingly at you on the way in. He will demand at least a euro for the honour of utilising his little hole in the floor, hit or miss. There may be washing facilities, but they will be ice cold and lack any soap or drying equpiment.
If you suddenly decide you need another little post-repast trickle before leaping into the unknown once again, the resident cave dweller will demand a further deposit into his little saucer, which, for appearances he keeps sprinkled with a smattering of five cent coins in an attempt to make you feel guilty.
Contrast this then with the opulence pictured above. Free to use, spacious, marble floored, oak panelled tinkle-emporiums. A host of private booths for the weary boarder to relax in. Scented air conditioning that removes any beastly malodorous residue. The washrooms, replete with fresh soap, warm water and full size polished mirrors for which to adjust the look before returning to the excellent dining rooms above and what’s this? hand towels, tissues and moisturiser. It's all to much.
Why can’t every hillside chop houses be this nice? Thank you Snowbasin, it’s been a pleasure.
* the picture above is by design limited to an unused section of the toilet facilities, for reasons of taste and decorum.
p.s. The resturants have chandaliers.
Rhodri.
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