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 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.

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.