Day 4-6, Mas bus!

More bus, less snow. In search of the perfect pow..it can't always be glamorous. Chile's weather forecast has been calling for about a meter and a half of new snow. Half the int'l team left for Chile on Friday, who knows where they are now. 3 of us stuck it out in Bariloche one more day to avoid the stress of catching the bus on a short notice. To burn time, we went to a national park and arrived with a broken camera. Probably the most beautiful sights I've seen since coming to Argentina and spent most of it trying to fix said camera. We walked around a small peninsula, befriending the homeless dogs, touring a Catholic church and trying to hitchhike back to town. Another night in the hostel in Bariloche, and an early wake-up call will take us on a trip to Chile.

Yesterday was a travel day..with fresh snow in Bariloche, no less. Missed the first bus by 5 minutes and spent a few hours drinking coffee and filling up on jamon y queso sandwiches. 11 hours later, our journey ended in Pucon, Chile, a small ski town NW of Bariloche. Staying in a comfy hostel with a very friendly host family. Okay with calling this home for a few days. Haven't explored town yet, but the casino is apparently where it's at.

It's been pouring in Pucon since we arrived last night around 11pm. All ready to ride this morning, we find out the mountain is closed...perhaps we'll have better luck tomorrow, but the weather forecast is promising lots of rain or very wet snow. Mother Nature has been disappointing, but if she shows us one good day, it will make it all worthwhile. A few days here and then....? Heading to Santiago next Saturday and flying to Buenos Aires on Sunday to wrap up the trip. One week down and not even a full day of riding yet.

Pray for pow....

Day 3, Be resourceful

Hola. Bread and coffee always seem to be the way to start the day in life, no matter what country you’re in. Big in Argentina, same in Europe and breakfast in the States are all pretty similar. It’s just a matter of what you put on it. I dig the Nutella action, but dulce de leche is about all they serve…caramel, essentially. Enough sugar for the morning buzz to kick in. Enough to at least get me to the mountain.

A half day at Cerro Catedral is really all we wanted to do. None of us have much desire to ride much here anymore. Conditions are crap and the snow is heavy even by NW standards. Sure, I’m a spoiled Utah kid, but it’s just not fun to ride in that kind of snow. Mud boarding is a reasonably popular sport out here. It’s pretty simple: when you’re on your skis or snowboard, find a patch of mud and ride through it, but try to avoid the big rocks. Fortunately, you don’t need an extra ticket for mud boarding because it’s guaranteed here at Catedral when you hit the base area. Booyah.

It’s been a while since I’ve been to a ski resort that’s enforced a leash law, but the liftie demanded I put it on before getting on a lift. I’m all, yeah, ok, it’s in my backpack. Ok, so I really can’t remember the last time I owned a leash. Just kidding, I can. It was at Crystal Mtn about 4 years ago and I had to fork over 8 bucks for a leash I used only for one chairlift ride to make the liftie happy. Similar tricks were pulled today. Except, hey, we’re in a foreign country, so American leashes are different, right? And with a little knot tying, my beacon strap became my new leash for the lift ride up. Nice. Liftie was satisfied and I went on my merry way.

As Barry and co. opened up their small-business snowboard shop at the base of the hill selling off their gear, I got enough time on the hill to realize I’m over it. Over Bariloche. It’s been decent here, I guess (again…spoiled Utah kid), but even Barry agreed that this place is about as fun as playing with poop on a stick.

After hitchhiking a ride back to town, we decided to rethink the Argentina plan. Barry has been talking about the storm coming to Chile next week. Sounds like our travels might take us up that way. Not very stoked on hopping back on the public bus with my gear and another 17 hour bus ride, but it might just be worth it..and what’s a trip without a little spontaneity? If we do the Chile thing, we’ll leave tomorrow evening, but plans are in the works now.

So, with the end of Bariloche upon us, I went to the downtown area and bought way too much chocolate tonight. But a touch of vino and chocolate makes everything ok in the end.

Day 2, La montana

Woke up to some extreme yelling competition going on somewhere in the hostel last night. I was waiting for someone to pull a gun. Well, I’m sleeping on a flat bed and not a reclining chair, so who can complain? A quick move of the luggage up the hill and I’ve found my home for the next night at least. Rolly luggage is great, but it doesn’t perform at its best on broken cobblestone.

A little bit of adjusting to the new abode and I’m ready to roll up to the hill. Decked in snow gear and walking to the bus stop, I’m impressed that no one seems to think twice about walking through the city with your snowboard gear. It’s the town closest to the mountain, sure, but it has little feeling of a ski town. Forking over a little more than $1 USD gets you to the mountain in about 45 minutes. My riding buddy for the day was Derek, a 22 year old from Ohio I met on the bus. He just got into town for a 3 or 4-month jaunt in Argentina.

As the boots are getting laced, a smelly giant comes running up an nearly tackles me. Barry got into town just a few hours before and had been sessioning a mini-pipe, waiting for me to show up. Nice to see a familiar face. The round of introductions were made..Jon, Marco, Ralph, Pablo..an international Chilean crew for sure. Swiss, French/Canadian, French/German, American, Chilean..I think that covered it.

Ready to ride, those who were uninjured or willing to buy a ticket went riding. New snow meant smiling faces, which soon turned to sweating faces when we started our descent down the wet, heavy snow. Nice welcome to the hill when you haven’t ridden in more than 3 months. Ouch.

It’s an interesting sight for sure on the hill. Lots of beginners on the bunny hill and beyond. Only know how to do the snowplow on skis? Hey, no biggie. Let’s jump off this cattrack! Oh..there goes my skis and poles. Feel like taking out a skier on your snowboard? Sure, the hill seems to sway towards the one-plank anyways. Who needs anymore of those annoying skier types anyways? I’m convinced Argentines think the best way to get down the hill is by anything other than skis or snowboards.

Rode until 5, caught the bus back to the city after a ½ liter of beer. Eat, drink, sleep. That’s what happened. Yep, bye.

Day 1, Just about done

48 hours of travel time finally left behind. Bariloche welcomed me this morning at the bus station just outside of town with 2 pesos to my name. Unexpected payments left me short on cash for little more than a bus ride on the public transportation. After 3 stops to the same woman at the tourist information desk, I timidly made my way over to the bus shelter. The policia standing by the bus helped me with all my bags, and we begin to head into town. Small shacks line the road, giving little indication that this is a ski or tourist town. Perhaps my notion of ski towns have been Americanized, but even after being dropped off in the heart of downtown, it felt I had closed my eyes and randomly picked a town from a map and said, ‘Yeah, I think I’ll bring my snowboard gear and see how that goes.’

The only indication of snow are the hordes of ‘snowboard’ shops and ‘surf’ shops that are as abundant as Starbucks. Even then, they seem to be only useful if you don’t mind dropping $$ on everything and want to dress in Burton from head to toe.

Hello, Bariloche. Time to explore. First stop, tourist information. Check. Second stop, ATM. Wait, was it on this corner or across the street? That looks like a bank…nope, cell phone shop. Ok, well, money can wait. These bags need to go. Hostel 41 Below. Seems chill. Are we there, yet? Oh, this looks nice! Shoot, I should check on their availability before hauling my gear up these 40 stairs. No rooms available? Ok, any suggestions for a hostel close by? Perikos? 2 blocks? Oh, uphill? Alright, thanks. I’ll check it out. Periko. Perkolis. Perfecto? Shit, what? Oh, this starts with a “P.” This is probably it. Hello, grandmother. (Nope, not it, but I’ll take a room!) 70 pesos, si? (Oh, damn!) Si, gracias. Showerrrrrrrr. Ooo, one of those toilet-sink lookin things that wash your butt. How pleasant!

3 hours after the end of the long bus ride, I’ve finally settled..for a night at least. Though there is plenty of time to catch the bus and head to Cerro Catedral, I opt to walk around and learn about this town. Lots of chocolate, cheap alcohol and good coffee. Not a bad place to end up for 2 weeks. Periko hostel finally comes within sight and I put down a reservation for tomorrow night. Anything to save a few bucks, I suppose.

Checking in with my American life, I ended up at a café for most of the evening, sending out emails and getting a draft of a story to an editor. Closing down the café, I’m eager to explore just a little more under the drizzling rain/snow that’s falling. Argentina is known for their late nightlife and dining, and plenty of restaurants were full of diners just getting their evening started. Looks nice, but too much food and money for what I wanted to spend. A nearby grocery store calls my name, and fresh baked bread, cheese and a liter of beer sounds exactly what I want for 4 bucks. Looks like breakfast will be mighty tasty.

No beer opener. Right. Well, the door jam will do just nicely. Enjoying my liter of beer. About to do some in-room yoga. Buenos noches y hasta manana.

Day 0, Argentina begins

Really more like 2 days altogether. Day 0 is travel time. With about 20 hours each devoted to flying and bussing, not including layovers or wait times. Left the States with no problems, but found the plane flying one big circle as we were waiting to land in Buenos Aires. Fog covered the entire city, with no indication that there was life on the ground below us, save for a few tree patterns that looked man-made. A snowboard filmer from LA sat in the seat in front of me and shared stories of plans for our trips. Me – the aspiring snowboard writer looking to pick up some travel stories and enjoy my first international trip on my own. Him – a last minute jaunt to snowboard country to meet up with a crew of riders and get some footage.

Wishing my new airplane friend a farewell after customs, we separated ways with our snowboard gear, perhaps keeping an eye out for each other on the mountain. I purchased a ticket for a short ride to the bus station, only hoping I understood the woman correctly, who helped me with information. No, she said, the bus I need to take is not at the airport, but rather, in the city center. Unsure of every direction I was heading, my bus was, indeed, at the station – one of the 200+ busses that pass through this station. A short wait, and the 20 hour bus ride began. A double-decker bus with almost fully-reclinable chairs transported the 40 or so passengers to Bariloche, complete with meal service and entertainment, the latter being a sad choice of American movies or Spanish live-recorded concerts.

The meals, though entertaining itself, were nothing more than replenishing. Seran-wrapped snacks of sugary croissants and dulce de leche were packaged in the same styrafoam ‘plates’ we use in the States for slabs of meat. Dinner resembled a cross between a TV dinner and airplane food – sectionalized compartments for each ‘course,’ and the camera unfortunately left deep in a luggage pocket in the bus storage.

Lots of semi-conscious sleep, but the bus attendant, with his wonderful company, was generous with the wine, which always makes for a nice sleeping aid. Fly and drive. That’s all that happened. The end.

oh man...

this blogging this is tough. so much good stuff happened since the purchase of a one-piece, but (blogging) time is $$...probably because i seem to write the damn things at work... and i've been too busy to update my faithful (one) reader (thanks, Hart!). so today i signed up for a twitter account. it's the equivalent of updating your facebook status in 140 meager characters. you should wiggle on over here to check it out...

but in the meantime, here is asshole version of the last 2 months:

-wearing the white one-piecer brings weird 'who's that gaper?' looks my way.
-white one pieces get dirty fast.
-schralp trip to the NW for 2 weeks included rain, hail, thunder, lightning, fog and sun. hurt my knee the first day out, hung out with grandma and the parents, had first BC trip at alpental.
-future snowboarding magazine is no more! :( rip
-spring shreddin' at a-basin over memorial weekend. caught a 17 inch trout. yummy!
-drinks with liko smith of the block hotels.
-lining up shred trips (argentina!) for some editorial stories.
-moved from one psycho roommate to another.
-finally found my own place - sans roommates!! - at the base of the canyons resort.

i'm in pittsburgh this week for a PR Schmoozapalooza learning about all the wonderful tactics and case studies of new media, going green and trends in the travel and tourism industry. hey, if it means being out of the office, i'll take it! but all this talk makes me want to switch over to writing/journalism more than being in PR.

have you ever watched "moment of truth" on fox? how sad of a show is that? can't say i've ever watched it before, but i couldn't imagine being stoked about walking onto the set of a reality tv show and fess up to any deep-rooted thoughts in exchange for $$ and a lonely life after you've pissed off your family and friends. yet, it seems to be a moment of pride for the people coming on the show. good luck winning your relationships back.

just had dinner at this place called 'original fish market' at the westin convention/hotel in pittsburgh. can't say it's a tasty restaurant, however much they call it a fresh fish dining establishment. blech. the sushi is better in utah than it is at this place. just remember that if you ever go to the pitts. the waiter reminded me of a young, pre-white michael jackson, too, so that was a little disturbing.

that's it. that's all.

sometimes the best things come in ones

you know those dreams you have that you know will be a reality one day? it may not be a burning desire, where your thoughts reflect to that dream every day, but deep down, you know that one day, it's going to come true.

my dream finally came true today.



hands down, the best 160 bucks i've ever spent.

closing weekend, here i come...