Alpine Adventure

I am breaking the once-a-week blogging pattern because skiing was just that excellent.

I took the skibus (pronounced skiboos) from Geneva this morning to a station de ski called Avoriaz. I had actually meant to go to somewhere called La Clusaz, but not enough people were going there so they canceled that bus and sent me to Avoriaz. Which was huge and I am very happy it worked out this way!

Another girl from the program, Brittany, had intended to go with me, but she got a late night email telling her she needed to be available to work the next day, so I had the adventure all to myself. This was my first time skiing solo, actually, and I think it was quite fitting to go skiing in a foreign country for the first time as well.

I had a wonderful day. Two downsides, to be fair--my first pair of boots was too small, unfortunately, but it didn't feel like it until I was halfway down the second run, at which point it became quite apparent. Luckily that was easily fixed. The other downside was that it started to do that light snow mixed with rain thing in the afternoon, and I got soaking wet and my goggles wouldn't stay clear. So I stopped about an hour early and sat in a restaurant eating crepes and drinking vin chaud (hot wine). Obviously not too much of a downside.

I suppose that is the nice thing about skiing on your own--when you are ready to stop, you can go right ahead, and you don't have to feel guilty about not using your ski pass for as long as possible, because you paid for it yourself!

I fit in 14 runs, a range of blue, red, and black. This got me to about the $2 a run goal (discounting the bus costs because otherwise I'm at $4 a run), but not the $1 a run ideal. I would have had to start very early in the morning for that! The runs were excellent--good snow, although it got pretty heavy once the rain started. A lot of them were narrower than I was used to, so I felt like I was bumping elbows with the other skiiers often, but apparently that is quite common at European ski resorts. The trails covered a huge amount of the mountain, and I went to nearly every section of it. The best were the trails off the lifts called Verare and Grandes Combes; I did those a lot. They also had practically no lift lines--it reminded me of going over to the Sacajawea lift at Targhee.

The runs were steep but nothing I hadn't done before. Really, they were the perfect degree of steepness--about half were steep enough that I had to steel myself to go over the edge, but doable once I was over. I was a bit nervous that skiing the Alps would somehow be much harder than skiing at home, but I felt very well prepared. There were a lot more moguls (les bosses in French, I learned from a little girl on a chairlift) on the blue runs than you usually find in the US, but I thought it was great. Lots of mogul practice! I could hear Swen's voice in my head every time I hesitated rather than keeping up a solid rhythm of turns, saying, "Attack! Attack! Attack!"

The lift lines were an absolute mess though. Actually, there was no line. There was only a mob of people stepping on each others' skis to try and get through the gates. It was wild.

My French served me very well...A English man, Johnny, who I met on a chairlift and who I skied a few runs with thought I was French at first--and I actually feel decent about this, because he is studying in Paris and taking all his classes in French. Of course, the little French girl I talked to on another chairlift knew I was not French right away--but ironically, she thought I was English!

Pictures!