Quick update

(Picture: Sun on water at Vancouver Island)

I'm not very good at concise (in case you haven't noticed) but I'll give it a quick quick burl:

• Yes, I'm behind in my updates.
• Yes, I promise that they are works in progress, and as such are coming soon.
• Yes, I'm going to try and be less descriptive and more selective in what I stick on here, because some of these posts are getting word-heavy.

Where am I now?
Right now I'm in Seattle, the Green Tortoise Hostel to be exact. It's a funky little place just off Pike Street and the infamous Farmer's Market. Cheap accommodation. Free breakfast. A few weirdos. I love travelling.

The last week and half have been dominated by a lot of driving. We've gone from Whistler, to Vancouver, to Vancouver Island, back to Vancouver. Today we drove to Seattle, which we're planning to check out for a few days before heading further south.

Today we lost Emily and Lauren. Emily is headed to Toronto. Lauren's plans are still undecided, but she's likely to head to Montreal before hitting Quebec City (and meeting up with a certain Ski Patroller).

Being a Saturday Sean and I are about to head off to Capitol Hill and check out the night life. Seattle is known for it's live music scene, so we're hoping to find something interesting. Tomorrow I think we're lining up some time at the Markets as well as the Underground tour.

Watch this space!

Roadtrip Map

This is the map of the three route options that we evaluated for our roadtrip. A big thanks to Jae and Sean for their MS Paint prowess. I guess you just develop those kinds of skills being awake at 3am every morning. Thank goodness for small mercies.

We (Sean and myself) are currently planning to follow the green route across North America. Jae's plans are at this point still undecided.

Tomorrow we start the roadtrip in earnest - first stop Seattle, city of grunge. It's a long way to Vegas...

21 April, 2006 (Friday)

Hostels vs Hotels: "The best thing about living out of hotels is that you never have to make your own bed..."


Hitting the slopes
Our first full day in Whistler. Our packed out room slept in for the morning before taking turns through the one shower. We weren't ready to leave Room 263 until midday. My first task however was not breakfast, instead I needed to have my ski bindings adjusted after loaning them to Jae in the final weeks of the season. Jae has larger feet than me, so it should have been a simple job for the closest sports store. Right? So I was assured.

A fried breakfast later with the gang, and Em and I found our way onto the Whistler Gondola, to check out the much-famed Whistler slopes and see what we could see.

The Gondola ride took a good 20 minutes to take us up the mountain. Whistler is under the throes of Spring, and the Village area is completely snow free. The main village is all dark cobbles and paths, and, while it is cool, it isn't particularly cold. As we progressed up the mountain however the snow looked progressively less slush and more powder. By the time we'd reached the mid-point visibility had started to decrease and the temperature had dropped. (Picture: Gondola view of the village)

We disembarked at the main ridge. Outside it looked crowded, with ski racks as far as the eye could see. The wind was blowing and fresh snow falling. Welcome to the real Whistler! Em and I jumped into our skis and slid our way downslope to the Peak chair. On the way my right ski felt a little strange, tending to turn in of itself such that my skis were snowplowing. At first I assumed that it was just because I hadn't been on my skis for over a week and that the snow was slicker than back at Big White.

The Peak presents some of Whistler's more advanced terrain. Visibility wasn't terrific as we hopped off the lift, but it wasn't Big White grade white-out either. The main slope looked a little on the steep side - a decent vertical, but not too crazy. We headed down.

The snow though felt good under skis. It was on the crisp side, flaking nicely as we bounced down, with more pellets falling. On the advice of some Whistler regulars we hung close to the left side of the peak and soon found ourselves jouncing along a wedge with 'Warning: Cliff' signs on either side. The blowing snow and cloud obscured anything more than a few feet away.

My right ski popped out going over a small bump, but I jammed it back on and got on my way. The 'Cliff' signs were getting closer, but I decided to push on anyway. Turning around to wave at Emily, I pushed off and suddenly found myself with only air beneath my skis. I landed well in soft powder, but once again the right ski decided to pop out. Sitting there in knee deep powder I saw Em's head pop over the vertical face that I'd come off - "Benny, are you okay down there?". I gave her a big thumbs up, engrossed in trying to remove the two inch layer of fresh snow from the inside of my Oakley's. (Picture: View back down to the Village)

The rest of the way down from Whistler Bowl wasn't quite so much fun. My right ski must have come out at least another 20 times. It was frustrating in the extreme. I'd hit some flats, gather speed, and the ski would come off. Then I'd hit a bump and the ski would come off. At one point I resorted to swearing and kicking a big furrow into the snow. I reached a narrow steep chute and just gave up. The skis were unclipped and I rode the way down on my backside, skis in my arms.

It took 45 minutes to snowplow my way to the base of the Big Red chairlift. A further 20 minutes of nose blowing and screwdriver finangling to undo the binding, work out that my sports store binding fix had loosened one of the levers which gave my bindings an extra 3cm, thus boots had not been fitting snugly. By chance Emily came down the same way and we were reunited.

The rest of the afternoon passed more pleasantly. At quarter-to-3 the sun came out and stayed for the afternoon. We rode the Harmony Chair and bounced down one of the double black diamond horse shoes off the Harmony ridge. The groomers were fun, and while the terrain is more open than Big White, it was quite skiiable. Before too long it was 4pm and last lifts. We jumped on the Gondola and made our way to the main village. (Picture: Harmony horseshoes - we dropped the far right one)


Vs Big White
I've been spoilt at Big White - used to ski-in, ski-out accommodation and all-day, non-stop skiing. The Whistler experience is a little different.
For one, the village is like a little township, with people expected to lug ski boots and equipment across from their accommodation, never mind that it's a good kilometer away from the gondola.
For another, large Gondolas service the village, taking skiers high up into the Alpine. This means that you can expect a 15-20 minute ride before you see real skiiable snow. This also means that if you want to stop for a decent bite to eat or a drink break with your mates, then you're probably expecting to lose an hour of ski time. At Big White you can pretty much get through a day of skiing without losing your skis for more than 10 minutes. Very different.

That said, I'm not sure how much of a valid comparison it really it. Big White is a family oriented resort, not a tourist town like Whistler. It doesn't have the infrastructure or the entertainment or the nightlife experience that Whistler boasts. Big White is a smaller mountain, with less skiiable terrain. That said, nobody really uses Whistler's lower slopes which are all but slush come Spring. Snow-wise I'd have to say that the Okanagan powder lives up to it's reputation - it beats the wetter Whistler slush fair and square. Different mountains. Different appeal. What kind of scene are you after? (Picture: Up top at Whistler - endless ski racks)


Tourist Trap
Whistler is a tourist town, there's no denying it. The village is full of kids in brand name gear strutting their stuff. The girls called them 'the beautiful people' when we first arrived, but I think they're more branded than beautiful. Brand new gear, and from what I can tell only a few know how to use it. There is no snow on the cobbles.

There are souvenir shops on every corner and more franchise eateries than you can poke a stick at. Prices are pure resort. Hotels abound. The cobbles are clean and for the festival there were freebie and competition stalls everywhere - GM Card, Contiki tours, Levi Jeans, Alive 5, Yop and Telus. The place doesn't have an overly friendly vibe, but it's definitely alive.

The nightlife has a reputation for good partying, and the night venues maximise on this, hitting punters up for cover charge. From what I could tell there isn't such a thing as 'cheap drinks'. I shudder to think what the place looks like in peak season. (Picture: Blackcomb runs)

20 April, 2006 (Thursday)

To Whistler
The drive to Whistler is supposed to be only one and a half hours, but somehow it took us half a day. It's a scenic drive though - wooded valleys and open waterways framed by snowcapped mountains. Pure British Columbia. We stopped briefly in Squamish (NOT Squeemish) for Tim Hortons and finally found ourselves booking into the Coast Whistler Hotel. (Picture: Roadside views to Whistler)

The Coast Whistler is an older establishment with bad 70s wallpaper and dingy lit corridors. It's not the prettiest of places, but it's at least located in the main village. Less walking can only be good. While the room was officially booked for only 2 people, we ended up squeezing 6 of us in - myself, Emily, Sean, Lauren, Precious and her friend Jules. Tight fit, but our home for the next 3 days. (Picture: Dungeon halls - Coast Whistler lighting)

Whistler village wasn't quite what I expected. It is more of a a sprawling resort town than an alpine village, all t-shirt shops and Starbucks (in my last day I counted 3, along with a MacDonalds and Save-on-Foods). There are a lot of big hotels and luxury condos for the rich, famous and overly moneyed. It's pretty, but it's also a little too organised. Intrawest must run a tight ship. Definitely not family-owned resort standard.


J5
We made it up to the main stage for Jurassic 5, an internationally acclaimed hip-hop act that managed to arrive 4 hours late. I didn't hear anything official, but somebody said something about customs complications(?). Big White staff were out in force, every way I turned I got yelled greetings and fist bashing - there was ski school and tickets and rentals and a few other randoms. Heck, I even sighted ex-Sam's Sarah who promised to catch me later in the evening. (Picture: More views on the way to Whistler)

Anyway, the crowd was packed by the time they got on stage. Lots of cheering and cat calling and clouds of green smoke blowing every which way. I found myself gasping for fresh alpine air at times because the smoke clouds were so thick. It probably didn't help when the band started yelling something about 4/20. Half the audience lit up doobies, I coughed my way through, finally finding refuge at a hot dog stand behind the crowd. $5 for hot chips. My stomach hurt.

Jurassic 5 did a great set - good voices and old favourites. The crowd got right into it, lots of dancing and miming, even a few die-hard crowd surfers. I got kicked in the head by one. Managed to dodge the others. (Picture: J5 on stage)

Afterwards I managed to find some of the others. We were cold and wet and tired, but they still wanted to go out. Sean and I decided to head in for a bit, but didn't end up heading back out. Precious and Jules weren't far behind us, Precious ordering room service chips "Hey, can I order some chips for room 263... are they too expensive?" before they passed out. Welcome to Whistler.

19 April, 2006 (Wednesday)

The roadtrip begins
Wednesday morning, our first day of our North American roadtrip. We breakfasted with Sean's parents, Sean's dad working through our route with things to see on the way. He also imparted some of his own experience, with some tips for neophyte campers, all "been there, done that" kinda stuff; see this, check out this park, keep away from this area, and under NO CIRCUMSTANCES leave your car here. I made plenty of mental notes.

We loaded up the Jeep with our traveling gear and camping supplies. I relinquished my Scratch FSs - taking more than one pair of skis to Whistler seems a bit excessive. Saying tearful goodbyes we trundled off into the sunrise.

The girls were waiting outside the Prestige Hotel when we drove past; we were only an hour late. The Jeep was running a bit low because of baggage, but we thought we should have enough room... until we saw the pile of luggage the girls expected us to fit in. Aiiya! There were ski bags and suitcases and backpacks and plastic bags of junk. I started thinking that maybe we should find ourselves a trailer.


Low rider
Somehow we managed to repack the car so that everything fit on, but by the time we finished cramming things in the Jeep was riding very low. The back half was sagging over the rear wheels. Four ski bags were perched on the top racks, and the back luggage compartment was so full you couldn't make out even a glimmer of light. The girls were squeezed into the backseat, although it looked more of a subterranean cave. Make that a cushioned subterranean cave. (Picture: Sean and I check to see if the roof is still attached)

The drive from Kelowna to Vancouver normally takes around 6 hours. Driving along the highway at 70km/hr Sean, in the passengers seat, noticed that our ski bags were lifting, a good 30cm into the air. Closer examination suggested that the ski bags were lifting the racks with them. Major wind resistance. Not good. So after an hour and a half on the road we were forced to stop in a sleepy little industrial complex called Penticton. We hit up a body shop for advice and they suggested that, failing some major work, that we were best to invest in some straps to loop right around the vehicle. A few hours of tinkering later and we'd found some heavyweight straps and clamps (thank you Canadian Tire). Unfortunately attaching them meant that the girls had to wait whenever they wanted to get out of their cushioned grotto. Tough.


Sirens blaring
We were doing around 80km/hr along the highway when the siren started. It began as a muted 'woop, woop' and escalated to a high pitched siren. We all looked frantically in the mirrors for the police car that we were sure was going to pull us over for being overburdened. Then would come the rubber surgical gloves and handcuffs. I think Sean was quite excited. Unfortunately there were no flashing lighted cars about. Could it be? I checked my car keys and pressed the auto button, the noise stopped. False emergency, it was the car alarm. Oops. (Picture: BC mountains, breath taking)


On to Vancouver
We drove up and down winding mountain roads. The views were breath-taking - snow covered mountain tops and tree filled valleys. We coasted along at a good pace and absorbed it all in. After a while we started naming some of the distant ridges - there was Mount Lauren and Sean's Peak, with accompanying innuendo. Emily and Lauren went snap happy. I kept on at the wheel.

It was another five hours before we found ourselves on Vancouver city-limits - well beyond the estimated 6 hours. It was getting dark and the traffic was thick. Somehow we missed the turn-off and rolled our way into North Vancouver. The Jeep's engine was running hot and we were all tired. It was raining. Another half hour elapsed before we found overnight parking at the Holiday Inn. It was past 9 before we dragged our ski bags and accompanying luggage to the Samesun hostel, our refuge for the night. Inside there were some familiar faces - Big White was following us everywhere. We waved and then dumped our things in our room. Robson Street provided us with dinner, courtesy of the trendy Cactus Club. Sleep beckoned.
(Picture: Emily and Lauren get cosy on the back seat)

18 April, 2006 (Tuesday)

Waking in strange places. Golfing with Big White. My first Champagne Charlie's experience.

Big White final staff bash
I awake at Sean's parents place We got there late the night before with all our worldly possessions. The Big White farewell was a bit anti-climactic - we just dumped our things in the back of the jeep and drove straight out. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but some fireworks would have been nice. I've never been that big a fan of ticker-tape, but I understand that rose petals are a big ask this close to the end of Winter.

Anyway, on arriving at Sean's folks' Jae and I flipped for bedding; I got the floor while he got the double. So today I am feeling better, maybe 70%. Sean's parents are good enough to comment that my colour still doesn't look good (well, pasty white doesn't usually do much for anybody). Thanks and yes, I know I look like crap.


Mission Creek Golfing
Jae and I drive Sean to Mission Creek for his 11:07 tee-time. We've got some errands to run in town before we make our own appearances. The place looks cute, a big old-style pub / clubhouse and very green greens.

When we return around 3pm the place looks a bit better. The pride of Big White are out in force - a pack of drunken louts in their summer holiday gear. It's actually looking quite preppy out there. I guess the Sam's 'Golf Pros and Tennis Hos' theme worked out for those who went to any effort. For myself, I'm looking kind of grungy in dark jeans, boots and black t-shirt. All I need is a death metal emblem and I could be mistaken for a lost roadie. (Picture: Jae, Lauren, Sean)

After getting settled and saying my 'Hi!'s to various people I end up going for a walk with Gabbi through the greens. It's edging toward 6pm but the sun is still out and shining strongly. Golf balls seem to be flying every which way. Lots of short sticks and poor shots. We stand back and watch Jeff from rentals and his posse take a few swings. It's painful to watch. I start thinking that maybe I should have brought my helmet along.

Buffet dinner starts at 7ish. The spread isn't huge on variety, but the meat isn't too tough and I get to throw my excess bread at Jae. Emily and Lauren have invited themselves and somehow manage to scam free bracelets off Jae Hayashi, the General Manager of Operations. I guess all that time Lauren spent working on Jess Schumann (sorry, Rafter) finally paid off?

After that there's some kind of prize draw and awards. A few iPods, DVD players and freebies are given out to random staff via a raffle system and 'the first to bring me...'. A few bras come off, passports are brought to the front and Bree from ski school shows off her black knickers. Just another night out really. I miss out on the draw and throw my ticket at the ski school MC in disgust. He sounds way too smug. (Picture: Snowballs off an RV)

Departmental employee of the year winners are announced - nominations apparently come via Big White management. Winners get a clean $250 in cash. Nice traveling money if you can get it. There are 24 departments and names are read amidst cheering. Gabbi gets tickets. Pez rentals. Four go to lifts, including one to Victorio - the ice sculptor come banjo player, another goes to Neal - Gabbi's significant other. An overall Employee of the Year is chosen at random out of the 24 to win a bonus of an additional $1000. Pez comes up, we cheer, he gets a very nice bonus. Everybody disperses.

Onwards and upwards
Sean and I go back to Jae's little motel room. Jae's got an early start to the airport on the morrow to meet up with the family in New York. We sit around while he freshens up, turn on the TV and make crude suggestions about what he can do with his King Sized bed. Jae gives us his classic "Yeah, funny guys" look. Love that look.

After a bit of last minute arm twisting to get Jae out (admittedly, the 'present' that Sean left in Jae's motel room doorway was a bit rough) we find ourselves once again upstairs at Kelly O'Brien's Irish pub. A few guys that Sean and Jae know are around, already getting stuck into the pints. I'm behaving for the night - still recovering, so no alcohol. I also get to look after the car keys. No such excuse for Jae or Sean. Shots follow beers and it's 10:30pm. Jae looks at us bleary-eyed and tells us that he's heading to bed. Soft. We let him walk himself home, there's more to be had this night. (Picture: Pez - winner!)

So it's Sean and I who leave Kelly O'Brien's at 11pm, in search of our Big White brethren. While some of Central Reservations were drinking at Kelly's, including prize winner Stu Meeks, and a few of the Rentals crew, it isn't what you'd call particularly busy. We try next door at the Willows Club, a semi-notorious strip bar, but it's already closed. I guess you get that on a Tuesday night. However, a scruffy looking gentleman advises us that Cheetah's will be open for business and should have some good live entertainment. He asks me for a quarter, which I gingerly hand over. His partner sidles over at the sight of my good silver and asks me if I want some acid tonight. I politely demure, citing potential stomach ulcers and my tendency to hallucinate after drinking tap water.

Roses is a popular drinking establishment on the waterfront. It doesn't seem too busy, even for a weekday. From the jukebox it sounds like it might be grunge night. The screaming metal is strangely hypnotic. Sam and her sidekick Robbie are at the pool table. Looks like Tania made it down from Whistler. I pay my respects, then escape. There has to be more going on than this. Where are all those drunken Big Whiteans?

Champagne anybody?
Champagne Charlie's is hidden away behind an anonymous blue metal door. It's known as the premier strip club in town, but I've only heard of it by reputation. Tonight Sean and I find it without any difficulty. We step inside... and are pleasantly surprised.

To describe it: Charlie's is more a cabaret style live entertainment venue than a sordid den of iniquity. It's clean looking, with lots of bright blue neon. The centrepiece of the place is a large square stage, where the dancers strut their stuff. Each corner of the stage has a large stainless steel pole. I guess to dance off? There is a bar off to one side and a few booths dotted around. The clientele seems to be a fair 50 / 50 split between genders. A surprising number of couples are in attendance.

We walk in and find a good proportion of those lost Big Whiteans. It looks like a few are here for the long hall. Curty is off to one side of the stage, and as the first dancer comes on, he and his fellows start banging the stage in acclimation. Sean and I say a few greetings and find somewhere to appreciate the show.

The first dancer is blonde and petite. We guess her age to be early 20s, but it's hard to tell. She's wearing a suggestive costume of corsetry and lace, and a pair of very high stiletto boots. The clothes come off as she minces around. Towards the end of the act she drags a towel with her as she does the splits and play-humps the ground. For some reason I find the whole show somehow hilarious and a little vaudeville. It's just ridiculous the way she minces around in those too high boots. Too contrived. I wonder who choreographs this stuff? What's with the crazy tan lines?

There's a 15-minute break between dancers. I spot Emily with her work friend Sean (hence forth, Sean2) grinning foolishly at the stage. They're with Jess Schumann; a bizarre evening. I wander over to greet them even as the second dancer arrives on stage. Emily gets a front row seat, I take up a position at her ear to give her a running commentary. The dancer begins.

She's darker skinned with thick lips and dominating eyebrows. A bit too much to be considered pretty. As she bumps and grinds along I can't help but laugh. It's just too vacant and public to be really sensual. Nevertheless, I keep up a rapid commentary, asking random questions about her technique and potential training methods.

Emily can't seem to make up her mind whether to stare or look away. She's obviously mesmerised but also mortified. I guess that good Catholic upbringing is kicking in? The dancer divests herself of her layers of lace, to reveal a bevy of piercing and tattoos. It's an eclectic combination, faded green tattoo ink against pierced nipples, eyebrows, lips and who knows what else? I almost expect her to jingle as she sashays around. I also notice that she's quite a good dancer, supple, with a good sense of rhythm (Picture: Gotcha's - Precious, Emily, Tania)

We leave Champagne Charlie's soon after, it's approaching midnight - time for the Big White party at Gotcha's night club.

Gotchya!
Two pieces of ID later...

We strut through the main doors of Gotcha's and the place is packed up and pumping. The dance floor is a big square of gyrating bodies and flashing lights. Two cages with dancers sit either side of a huge screen thanking Big White staff for the season.

I'm feeling all too sober, with just that edge of tiredness. The next three hours pass in a semi-blur of moving from corner to corner, trying to say my goodbyes. All too many people are messy, frantic to have their last big hurrah. It's a strange place for goodbyes. Perhaps goodbyes aren't appropriate after a season on a ski field. I know I won't see most of these people ever again, and that I'll only keep in real contact with a few, but somehow I still expect something more after 4 and half months of my life. Always those expectations. Always that feeling of something more waiting in the wings.

I say my final goodbyes to those I can find at around 2pm. Along the way I collect Lauren (Sydney, house keeping) and Marissa who want a lift back to their hotel on the other side of town. Grace passed out from heat and alcohol indulgence at the golf course much earlier in the night. Sean and I then make our way back to Peachland and his folks' place. Goodnight Big Whiteans. Safe travels. (Picture: Gotcha's - Curty cutting it on the podium)

20 April, 2006 (Thursday)

A quick update
Only time for a quick update this morning. I'm currently sitting in the little Internet Kiosk @ the Vancouver Samesun backpackers. Yes, I'm out of Big White. Sean, Emily and Lauren are busy stuffing free pancakes into their faces, but I have more respect for my body. Go figure.

Laid out flat
The last week has been pretty harrowing. Friday was 'Sneaky Pete's' Night with Tickets and Saturday was spent in a flat daze. By mid-afternoon I was laid out flat on my back with heat and chills. Jae said that he thought I was on death's door. But 48 hours on I was starting to feel better. Still missed my last Ridge shift with Kate, although I think she forgives me.

Dodging snow
Monday was my last day on the mountain. Kind of anti-climactic. Tuesday the staff party. For a mental image, just think lots of drunken young ski bums running around with golf clubs. Somebody drove down an RV, which had a 1ft base of snow and a snowball fight went on for half the afternoon.

Gabbi scored the tickets employee of the year prize, which carried with it a $250 prize. Pez got Rentals and overall employee of the year (by lottery) which netted him a nice $1250 bonus. The rest of us got nothing. It wa s a good do though. The venue was great and the sun was out. How I've missed the sun.

... and now?
So Yesterday we drove off from Sean's parent's place in Peachland, almost overloaded the car (I can't believe how much luggage the girls had to bring) and made our way West. Along the way our roof racks started to lift due to wind resistance, but after a few tense hours we managed to fix the problem with strong straps. The dramas totally threw out our travel time though. We didn't manage to get to Vancouver until after 9pm (the few 'detours' we took probably didn't help). Although the scenery was awe inspiring.

This morning we're headed to Whistler for a few days. There is a Telus festival on, and I'm due for a few days skiing on the big slopes. After that it's Vancouver Island. I'll try to update soon. Wish me luck!

Ben

14 April, 2006 (Good Friday)

Happy Easter my friendly bunnies. No chocolate eggs here, but we seem to have found plenty of snow to keep us busy.


Comment away!
For those interested, (at Jae's savvy prompting) I've changed the settings so that ANYBODY can post comments on the blog, not just members. Apologies, I didn't realise that the defaults were so restrictive. So, that being done - get in there and let me know what you're thinking.


Red, Blue or Green
A road trip is in the offing. Sean and I have acquired a Jeep Cherokee, and with it we plan to drive across the North American continent; coast-to-coast. The idea was first floated on a Monday night at Raakel's, but since then it's taken a life of it's own.

Somewhere along the way Jae aired his intentions to perhaps join us in our expedition. With his Vancouver work plans now up in the air, he could be free to travel on the road for a month, following on from his family tour of the East Coast. While his membership was still under discussion, with his interest has come a whole new level of planning. (Picture: I've written them, I just need to send them)

Born of his enthusiasm were the Red, Blue and Green travel routes, complete with .jpg etched maps and travel calculations.

• RED: Red is the longest route, tracing the continent from West Coast, down to the deep south to Miami, then up to the Big Apple.
• BLUE: Blue crosses from Vegas to DC, avoiding America's middle country.
• GREEN: The Green route cuts back up through the Rockies, to cross middle Canada before falling into the East coast.

To assist in discussion an online forum was created, complete with map references, purchase lists and a flurry
of emails.

For a few days trip planning seemed more akin to Covert Intelligence mission planning. Dollar estimate followed time approximations. Heated trip rationales travelled the email highways. It was frantic. It was organised. It was a bit too intense for my original ideals of a laid-back "Have a basic route and see where the road takes us" mentality. Swept up in the passion and the fury I submitted a master spreadsheet providing high level comparisons of route times. It was a masterpiece, but a far cry from my current lifestyle.

In the last week intensity has waned however, as more immediate end of season issues have arisen. But subtle stirrings are beginning again as our day of departure draw near. We only have days left of the season, and while most things will be sure to fall into place, there is still that niggling fear in the background that we don't have enough spreadsheets or forum pages to support an adventure of this magnitude.

I think it's time to close our eyes, take the leap and see how we fly.


Synthetico Coffee
I have succumbed. I have fallen. I admit it before you all - I am a synthetic coffee addict. I have taken to drinking the sugared syrup and now it has a hold of me.

Even now I can hear it's siren's call; the promise of sugared sweetness, artificial energy and hot relief. I can practically taste it on my tongue. I yearn for it's seductive warmth.

Once upon a time I would have denied any association. Once upon a time (and rightly so) I would have cast dispersions on the brain melting, gut rotting stuff. But today I can make no such claims. Today, I am a synthetic coffee fiend. (Picture: Run back to the village)

I can't remember when it happened. You'd think that the scalded tongue would be warning enough. Yet, as soon as I could taste again I was back at the stuff. It comforted me when it was cold and miserable. It heartened me when the customers were lined up beyond the doorway. I drank the watery brew and I was happy.

I know that it isn't real coffee. I know that the artificial flavours of 'English Toffee' and 'French Vanilla' are more akin to candy than anything naturally produced. I acknowledge that it's thin, machine produced swill that comes out of a suspicious looking nozzle. But I'm still drinking it.

"It's cheap", I tell myself. "It's warming in the sub-zero", "I'll stop when I'm off of this rock", "It's only $1 for a large". But I'm not sure how I'll cope without, or what I'll do to take my mind off it. I can hear it now, calling. How long until my next dose? (Picture: Ridge coffee).

13 April, 2006 (Thursday)

(Picture: Dave & Moi on the Gem Chair)

Big White news:
Happy Easter! It's mid-April and the snow won't stop. We've had more than 40cm in the past three days. It's gone crazy. What's news up here?

• Final week: It's already the 13th, only 4 more sleeps and we're off this hill. The 18th has been reserved for Big White staff festivities - golfing and dinner. After that it sounds like half the hill is headed for Whistler. It's all happening too fast. Eep!
  
• All is quiet on the Western Front: Josh has gone awfully quiet lately. In fact I don't think we've exchanged 20 words in the last 3 weeks. Amie has disappeared. Apparently she's now working housekeeping at the White Crystal. Maybe it has something to do with Dave's outburst last week. But that still wouldn't account for the 2 previous weeks...
• Young romance on the hill: Cris and Emily are happily honey mooning. Although mention it to either and they're likely to deny it all. Lauren seems to be still infatuated with ski patroller Charles. (Picture: Emily and Cris on the Gem chairlift)
  
• Piercing mania: Lauren apparently got a nose stud done today. Chris (Sk8rs) had his lip pierced last week. Emily declared that she didn't think I'd have the guts to do it. Keep you posted. It's the last week and everybody is letting loose.

Nominations are now open
Nominations are now open for my own Big White 2005/2006 awards. The Sammy's were a flop so we might as well make our own effort. Please feel free to nominate categories and names in the comments feedback box. Don't be shy! Winners will be posted on this site come 17 April, 2006.


Short and Pithy
I've been doing some blog surfing lately (the side effect of quiet ticket shifts and an internet connection) and I've been noting the tendency of some blog writers to keep their postings short and pithy. I'm quite jealous of these bloggers, with their concise witticisms and observations. I wish I could find my way out of meandering descriptions and sweeping generalisations. I wish I could just have a few magical epiphanies with which to share with the world.


BC Liquor
The liquor stores here stock an amazing variety of alcohol from all over the world. There's the usual selection of spirits, but then their wine and beer is just as varied - they have wines from local vineyards, California, South America, South Africa, New Zealand and Australia. Australian varieties seem surprisingly popular, with prices comparable to back home. (Picture: Ptarmigan 311 Liquor cabinet)

Canada is very provincially oriented. Laws and approaches vary from province to province - for example, in BC auto insurance is part of vehicle registration and is all government run, while inAlberta insurance is separate and run by private insurance companies. Similiarly, with alcohol, the BC government controls liquor supply and pricing. Alcohol prices are relatively uniform across the province. Approximately 20% of all liquor stores in the province owned and operated by the government.

"With a workforce of approximately 3,500 full and part-time employees, the LDB operates over 200 government liquor stores throughout the province; two distribution centres, one in Vancouver and one in Kamloops; and a head office facility in Vancouver. In order to provide beverage alcohol products and service throughout the province, the LDB issues appointments and enters into contracts that authorize terms and conditions with the private sector for the operation of private retail outlets, such as licensee retail stores, rural agency stores, B.C. beverage alcohol manufacturer stores, independent wine stores and duty-free stores."
(http://www.bcliquorstores.com/en/about)

Government controlled liquor. I guess it's a good racket to be in.


Cable TV - Drug ads
One of the weird things about television here is the number of drug ads that they screen. It's beyond bizarre. They have drugs for everything - weight loss, muscle gain, headaches, sexual performance, the list goes on. But even stranger are the disclaimers that accompany each ad, complete with voice-over. Where back in Oz you'd get a simple "If pain persists please see a doctor", here it's more like "...may cause dizziness, drowsiness, migraines, vomiting, hair loss and in some cases death". Yup, use only as directed by a medical practitioner indeed. (Picture: Josh and Amie - couch invaders. A more toned down public display of affection)

Heck, even Red Bull advertisements come with a disclaimer where they state: "Red Bull doesn't actually give you wings. It only increases ". Do they think their viewers are completely brain dead? Actually, don't answer that question. After some of the customers I've had this season the disclaimer may well be warranted.

12 April, 2006 (Wednesday)

Stupid online updates
I'm pissed off. Riled. Very annoyed. I just spent the last 3 hours writing up a half-dozen updates to stick on here, re-logged into my Yahoo mail, but when I clicked update on the Notepad I lost it all. 3 hours work - gone. I couldn't even hit the back button to retrieve it like you sometimes can with email. So all that pithy prose and hand crafted description is gone, and with it my patience to write it all up again. Guess that's a lesson that I should be using notepad or wordpad before pulling it over, but I got lazy and now I've had enough. Dammit! I think I'll just go for a walk and kick something. (Picture: Ridge Daylodge - our little ticket office out back)


Cute blondes and cattle prods
Sarah is working here at the Ridge today. She's the cook at the little cafe here. We go way back. I've known her since my first night at the beginning of the season, back when she used to work at Sam's as a waitress. About mid-season she was fired, something about drinking on the job and losing a whole lot of alcohol. Whatever the case, she's always been friendly, all chipmunk grin and dirty blonde hair.

We chatted, as we do when I'm at the Ridge and she's at the cafe - travelling plans and evenings out. I got me a cheese burger. Five minutes after returning to my little ticket cubicle I hear girl screams and the pounding of running feet. She bursts out the back door, the cook (Steven) in fast pursuit. Sarah comes over to throw me some cookies in a brown paper bag, and then she's off yowling. The cook is after her again with what looks like a cattle prod. Some way to keep yourself entertained on a quiet afternoon. I wonder what other toys are behind the counter? (Picture: My ticket shelf - watch the coffee)


Big White Idol
Big White Idol is a highlight of the mountain events calendar. It's held every Wednesday @ Happy Valley, and brings out all the closet karaoke singers. Tonight Precious and Lauren entered. It was a cack.

At first I didn't recognise either of the gals. They were dressed as Sonny and Cher. Lauren had a black wig and long sparkly blue dress, while Precious had on bad flares, pimp glasses and a dirty moustache and sideburns. She looked like a dirty little man. Everytime I saw her that evening I had to do a double take. Crazy. (Picture: Double-take!)

They were first up and had choreographed their song "I've got you babe". Unfortunately neither of the gals could actually sing. Nevertheless the crowd went nuts and the two crooned their parts passionately. The rest of the acts were pre-pubescent kids and staff. Vittorio put on a rowsing version of Mack the Knife. Sean got up and sang (he confided to me later that he even provided his own music). Cassey complimented him on his snow boots... and apparently it was Sean's birthday on Monday, but he didn't tell anybody. HAPPY BIRTHDAY SEAN! (Picture: Sonny and Cher on stage)

At the end of the event winners were announced. By popular acclaim Sean got runner up, scoring a MP3 player. Precious and Lauren came in third. They screamed that the judging was rigged.

Afterwards it was back to the Ptarmigan for a glass or two of wine before making it to Sam's for the Sammy Awards. The awards were as expected - rigged. Winners were more aligned to Sam's staff nominations than anything else. It was a farce, but everybody was still drinking. Pa-ching for Sam's! (Picture: Anthony and Gabbi @ Sam's)

Sean got re-acquainted with Cassey and gave her a proper thank you for her judging efforts earlier in the night. Somehow or other I ended up running around taking random pictures and later on the dance floor. It is official - I have no moves.

11 April, 2006 (Monday)

It has finally started snowing! The long promised April powder dump has arrived, and while it's a bit slushy it has compensated with volume - 18cm in just 12 hours, and it is still going! Well, that's excitement for me these days. I've been pretty quiet in the last few weeks. Certainly Sam's hasn't profited from my custom.

A farewell dinner
Last night three of us (Jae, Dave and myself - we haven't seen much of Josh lately, or heard much for that matter) made our way to Snowpines to Tony and Alex's (kiwis) place for a farewell Big White dinner. Tony and Alex are good friends with our neighbours in 306 - Tim, Hayley and Ben - and the five of them thought it would be nice to have a big dinner as a proper get together and farewell to our time on the mountain.

The drive down was a bit slippery but manageable. That is until midway through a turn I found the back of our jeep drifting out. My first attempt to compensate seemed to work, I pulled the wheel across to straighten and the car moved with it. Until the back slid out in the opposite direction. First left, then off to the right, then left, then out to the right again. I kept to the middle of the road and tried to guide the car. My wheels locked and then went their own way. Fluttering my foot on the pedal I tried to get some traction, but the car just slid through the thin layer of ice and snow despite my best efforts. Finally I softly touched down on the brake and the car came to a stop. Jae and Dave let out a collective breath of relief, they'd immediately gone quiet as soon as I initially slid out.

"Hey, look out the back window" cried Dave.
Three pairs of eyes focused on our tyre tracks that perfectly s-ed back behind us. There was no sign that the road had any less traction at the corner, and I definitely hadn't been travelling at speed. Just a touch of bad luck. Needless to say that we immediately pulled down the lever for part-time four-wheel-drive. Jae and Dave started laughing.
"I was willing to put money that we were going to hit one of the embankments for sure," confided Dave.
Jae agreed, "I was just waiting for it, but I didn't want to ruin the moment by talking."
"Uh, thanks guys" I managed to reply.
"But you did a good job. Controlled it well" Dave reassured me. Jae nodded in encouragement.

At Jae's insistence we parked a good 30 metres down the road from the house. It was still snowing heavily, but at least it wasn't melting as soon as it hit, like it had over the weekend.

Main course
It was a half-hour wait for dinner, but worth it. The spread was fantastic- medium rare roasted lamb, rubbed in salt, pepper, coffee and rosemary, The meat had a subtle aroma and tasted divine. There was a big bowl of flavourful garlic prawns and a selection of roasted vegetables - fresh sprigs of asparagus, roasted butternut squash, potatoes and capsicum. To mop up the rich sauces we had crispy oven-fresh garlic bread.

Luke, Gemma and Chris were in fine form, leaving us in hysterics. Luke and Gemma have travelled widely and shared some of their Australian travel experiences with us. Then there was their recent trip to Vernon - skiing, golfing, flatulence in bed and people they've shared accomodation with. Dessert was as decadent as dinner was filling. We had our choice of three cakes - chocolate lemon tart and dusted devil's food cake.

Dessert
To follow was our choice of ice cream - cookies and cream or strawberry. Gemma's frosted lemon tart disappeared in minutes, the glazing deliciously crunchy and the cake beneath it firm but moist. We sat around sated, chatting on about experiences and travel plans.

While we were sitting and talking Tim ran around and nipple pinched myself and Chris, leaving me in stunned shock.

Everybody was falling asleep by 11pm, so we made our goodbyes and left, pelting snowballs up at the kiwis in the hot tub., There was a good 10cm of snow on the roof of the car, and the snow was still falling as we drove our way home. A nice way to close the season.


A day to ski - powder day
Jae has hit the slopes on my Monsters and by all accounts (well, Jae and Dave's in any case), he's doing a good job of carving it up. Which left me today in 18cm powder with my Scratches. Not perfect, but still workable. Just lots of leaning back to keep the tips out of the powder; the heads on them aren't quite as fat, so they don't float on the powder quite as well. (Picture: My Scratch BCs)

Originally I'd planned to take Ardana (blonde chill kiwi chickie with dreadlocks) out on the skis, but the snow was too good to waste. Instead, I met up with Precious and Ardana and we ploughed our way down the slopes. Precious is still learning and back edged it most of the way.

Because of the thickness of the snow I caught my edges more than once and tumbled, but no real ski loss. Precious however came out looking like a kiwi snowball.
(Picture: Ardana carving it up on Powder Keg)
he's doing a good job of carving it up. Which left me today in 18cm powder with my Scratches. Not perfect, but still workable. Just lots of leaning back to keep the tips out of the powder; the heads on them aren't quite as fat, so they don't float on the powder quite as well. (Picture: My Scratch BCs)

10 April, 2006 (Monday)

Another day another dollar
It's my fourth day off in five (well, from the ticket office anyway) and once again I find myself driving down to Kelowna. I'm getting used to driving on the right side of the road, and the Jeep Cherokee is an easy drive - it has a grunty v6 engine and the visibility from the windows and mirrors is pretty good. Thankfully, the Spring roads have been kind thus far and between 4wd, all season tyres and cautious driving I've been able to get a better feel for the vehicle and the terrain.

The road down from Big White to Kelowna, while long, isn't the harrowing journey that Hotham can be during season. The road has a bit of twist, but there aren't any cliff-face drops or crazy switchbacks. That said, I've found that Canadian drivers can be quite manic. They tend to race up and down these mountain trails at a furious rate. I guess it keeps the tow truck companies in business. (Picture: Big White road, past the Ridge)

Sean has joined me for the trip. Unfortunately a lot of the day will be absorbed by various errand running - cards to post, a ski bag to find and a reissue to seek for my debit card.

The card stopped working on Saturday when I tried to use it at the convenience store. The first time it came up as a PIN error, the second time around the system stated that the card had been switched off due to potential fraudulent activity. Explain that!

When I called the bank's customer service line they weren't able to be much more illuminating, despite apologising for the lack of notification. All they could tell me was that one of the outlets I had used my card at had reported potential fraudulent activity. As a security precaution they'd de-activated my card and required me to front up to a bank to get it working again. Except, I'm living up here on a ski resort in the middle of nowhere and it's a weekend. Not exactly what I'd consider quality service. Thank you Canadian banking! (Picture: Sean at the wheel)


Checking the balance
Later this evening I found out that the Sam's ATM has had cards scanned from it and money withdrawn from individual's accounts as a result. Basically anybody that's used that ATM has had their financial institution notified and their card privileges revoked until they can appear at the bank and gain a new card or PIN number. It's end of season and while it's a little less busy, it's still not the easiest to get down to Kelowna, especially those without vehicles.

05 April, 2006 (Wednesday

Tubing Party
Big White held a free tubing party for staff on Tuesday. It came with a complimentary beef burger, salad, potato chips and all you could tube. It's the most people I've seen at the park since peak season, with long trains of tubers lining up and riding down. Snowballs were thrown, hot chocolate was spilt and revellers were crash tackled. Nobody made it to volleyball though. (Picture: Tim's amazing hair)


Another day on the snow
Went out with Emily and Sarah and we got a bit of footage of us on the slopes. I think I need to work on my camera style it's all over the place, which is a bit sad considering how late it is in the season. I keep on bruising my shins after getting air (but not doing anything too tricky). Have to work on those landings. (Picture 1: Falcon bowl - ski that; Picture 2: Emily resting her edges on the front face)

The day was pretty icy. We haven't had any decent snowfall for a few weeks now and the Spring sun and cold nights mean that we've got a 3 metre base of compressed snow which in some places is more like ice. Eek!

3 April, 2006 (Monday)

Return to Silverstar
The second Silverstar bus and as luck would have it I manage to get my name on the list. It’s an early 7:30am start, but I’m not the last on. I’ve packed my Head Monsters and my helmet. Silverstar is known as a skiers mountain and if my guess is correct it’s going to be icy; I’ll need all the edge I can get. Not a lot of familiar faces on the bus, but I doze off and figure I’ll work out who I’m skiing with when we disembark.

Two hours later and we’re at Silverstar. The village is as cute as I remember – all brightly coloured wood buildings stuck closely together. There is a smattering of familiar faces, but a lot who I don’t recognize. Two weeks to the end and still so many who I’ve never met. I wonder what rock they have been hiding under? (Picture: Moi and Nick on the Commet Express 6-seater chair lift)


Morning skiing
Nick from Retail immediately hails me. He’s skied for more than a few seasons and has a pair of swanky looking next season Scratch BCs. Expensive twin tips. But nobody to ski with. I’ve heard a little about his skiing technique. John did his Level 1 instructors with him. John passed. Nick didn’t. I also see Carmen and her friend from Cen Res Catherine. Both are also carrying skis. There’s Sarah (Retail) hanging out with Aaron (Night Audit) and Gareth (Happy Valley). A few faces.

I end up riding the lifts with Carmen, Catherine and Nick. It’s extraordinarily icy in the morning. The sound of ski edges scraping against hard ice isn’t one of my favourite sounds. We do the front face, keeping mainly to easy running blues. I goof off. One ski. Aeroplane. Racer styles. Yeah, I’m a big kid.


Afternoon skiing
Lunch is at Long Johns (I have to doggy bag half my Mac & Cheese –after I declare I’ll ski with it down my pants if need be they offer to keep it behind the bar) and then Catherine and I hit the back face. The day has softened the snow a little and we tackle a few of the black diamonds. They’re steep and long, but there aren’t any stray bumps so it’s an easy cruise down. (Picture: Carmen, Moi & a beer - Lunch at Long John's)

Before we know it is 3 o’clock, time to head back. We ride Sunrun (not too inventive with the names) a wide-open green. I dodge off to the sides, between the trees, and ride out a few bumps, deciding to launch myself off the last. The pop is off centre though, and next thing I know my head bounces and my nose ploughs a channel through the snow. My camera gets crushed into my solar plexus. Ouch. Winded. Ski is somewhere around here. I don’t think I’ve broken anything.

The bus trip back is peaceful. I have the double to myself.


Family guys night
Back at home it’s Family Guy night. For the first time in memory Dave, Jae and myself camp out on the couch and laugh ourselves silly. Two-and-a-half men comes on. Charlie and Rose’s relationship hits a new level when Roses dad turns up, and hits on Charlie’s mum. We have a sit down dinner of rissoles and chicken, Dave style. Dessert is green jello, laced with a little something extra. We all agree, it’s been a great night in.
(Picture: Dave and Jae - Grinners are winners. Enjoying dessert)

2 April, 2006 (Sunday)

An excuse to go to Kelowna. Sunday night Sushi. Finding Champagne Charlies. Drinking it up Irish style.

Sunday night is the night
Sunday night is now sushi night. Jae has had a hankering for months and finally a means to satisfy it. Tonight we’re going to hit the town and eat raw fish! (Picture: Jae - "Oh the excitement")

We pick up Emily and Sean around half-past 5. It’s my first extended drive in Canada and the car feels different. Partial four-wheel drive is on because it’s feeling a bit icy. My head is light. It was a long day in the Village. I concentrate on the road. Sean provides a soundtrack for me – Smash, by the Offspring. The road winds down the hill.

There is old snow and dirt banked up on the sides. Spring is coming. Half-way down a cop car starts tailing me. It’s a white sedan with the trademark lights over the roof. I keep strictly to the speed limit, try to keep to my side of the road and before long it gets bored and overtakes.

Downtown Kelowna is quiet of a Sunday but it takes a few circles around the block before we find parking. The sushi place is a little brightly lit storefront right next to Gloria Jeans (not Starbucks!) on the main street. We walk in and stare hungrily at the sushi bar. Jae and Sean order a mega sushi platter. Emily opts for Chicken Udon. I can’t resist the chirashi donburi – raw fish on boiled rice.

Conversation kicks off, the topic? Flatulence. One of Emily’s favourites. Jae regales us with tales of roadtrips taken with baked beans and the power windows locked. We discuss social mores and English prudishness, or is it just good manners? We talk about travel. We talk about why all the sushi places seem to be run by Chinese and Korean chefs. Apparently our particular eatery is Korean. Jae is thrilled.

Three pots of Japanese green tea later the sushi arrives. Jae and Sean’s platter is enormous. My chirashi donburi looks nice and fresh and Emily is straight into her udon. Conversation pauses for eating. (Picture: Jae, Moi, Emily, Sean - Sushi has arrived)

Somehow or other Jae and Sean polish off their sushi platter. Our server seems impressed. Apparently it’s usually presented to a group of between 4 to 6, although one particular Japanese customer has been known to eat the whole selection himself. Both Jae and Sean look sated though.

On the way out our server guesses not only where we are from but our ethnicity. Pretty impressive. Apparently he’s a New York native so he’s familiar with a bit of cultural diversity. Jae grabs his email address. Is there something you’re not telling us Jae? ;)

Looking for Champagne Charlie’s
Kelowna city streets are quiet of a Sunday. It’s now 9pm and almost nobody seems to be about. Sean has work at 12 so the cinema isn’t an option. We start to wander down the street, stopping at the tattoo parlour to peer through the window. It’s where Emily got her maple leaf tattoo. Jae scoffs at why we’d want to go in if we aren’t going to get anything. What about the t-shirts I ask?

We keep on walking. Champagne Charlie’s? Sure. I’ve never been to a strip club. Jae seems to find this unbelievable. I’m an innocent – really! Sean was there last week, but as we wander the streets we can’t seem to find it. Cheetah’s, the other local strip joint is closed. Another night perhaps?

We end up at the Irish pub, although the upstairs bar won’t serve us because Emily forgot her ID. Typical. Instead, we get a downstairs booth and a jug of Shaftsbury between the four of us. The conversation turns toward ages. Emily guesses Jae to be the eldest of us three guys, and myself as the youngest. Guess again. The topic moves onto why neither Jae, Sean or myself have been hitting on the mountain. Is it opportunity, are we too nice, or are we just lacking the required equipment?

The night finishes and I begin the drive back home. It’s been a long day. As we hit the highway Jae asks if I want to let Sean drive, since he’s due on shift and should be (nominally) awake. I happily acquiesce.

01 April, 2006 (Saturday)

Aenne's Farewell
Saturday night was a small farewell bash for Aenne. Our German school teacher is headed back off home with her beau, Per, to finish university. It's that time of season and people are slowly peeling off to go their separate ways. (Picture: Precious, Aenne, Kate, Tania, Moi - Cheers!)

It was a fun night out. Another night at Sam's. Another few drinks. Some dance floor time. Some sly oggling. (Picture: Precious cutting up the dance floor)


Join swingers?
Management here is strange. Lauren claims that one of our co-workers has been confiding in her about her 'other life' on the swinging scene. At first I thought she might be doing some creative tale spinning, but the story has been backed by a few others; they've seen online profiles of some of our management on prominent swinging sites and hidden hand holding at the pub. I've seen the dance floor bumping and grinding. Ugh! Nasty.

It explains some of the weird behaviour that's been going on - people staying up on the hill and repeated denials about things going on when nothing was asked. I'm pretty sure that there's some kind of strange lust triangle going on between older marrieds. Big White the Swingers Haven, who would have thought? Another fun family activity, or is that considered incestuous?

31 March, 2006 (Friday)

Warning - large posting

Finding a vehicle
Up until this week my search for a vehicle has been relatively passive. I’ve spent almost half a month doing the research, getting an idea of what’s on sale and what I really want. I've been putting out feelers and identifying the places I need to look, but I haven't really examined that many cars. It's a little intimidating, and my energies have been diverted elsewhere.

First viewing
It was the first car we viewed. Initially I thought the asking price was too much, but seeing it drive up to the CIBC branch in Orchard Plaza, it did look in pretty good condition. We met Paul and his cute little girlfriend Tash. Paul is studying next semester and looking for something smaller and more economical. Tash is along for the ride.

Sean takes it around the block. No suspicious clunks. Brakes feel good. Engine does its thing without labouring. A little more compact than what we first envisaged, but it could work. After we complete our inspection Paul offers us a lift to our next location. The drive across to Westbank passes quickly, weaving through Kelowna and over the bridge. (Picture: Lake views from the Westbank)

Second viewing
Duncan owns and manages one of the 5 RV dealerships in the area. He’s all slicked back hair, loud voice and neatly pressed black polo shirts. A real salesman. He picks Sean and I up in his new big black Honda pickup and takes us to his place to inspect the Jeep.

His 1987 Jeep Wagoneer has been in the family a while, but he’s recently acquired a company car and needs to sell. $1,250 sounds reasonable. It’s a slightly longer version of the Cherokee. Dark blue with fake wood paneling and a lot of lower-body rust. It is only a 4 cylinder, but has a meaty roar. It doesn’t start so well, but the engine looks in alright shape having been rebuilt a while ago. We take it for a quick around the block. The brakes feel weak. They were only replaced in December. Not a good gut feel. Duncan drops us back off where we met him. (Picture: Sean on the bus - lining up the next viewing)

Third viewing
We catch a double-decker bus back into Kelowna downtown. Two younger gals in front try to mimic my accent. They seem to think I’m British. Not too bright. On the ride back I call up Bill, who has a 1991 Ford Explorer that he wants to sell for $2,300. He agrees to pick us up from Prospera Place – the local stadium.

Bill turns up in a red old pick-up truck. It’s a cosy fit in front of the pickup, but the vehicle seems to be running well, although showing some wear. He’s an older gent, a big frame, white hair and a friendly face. Along the way to his place he tells us about his retirement and bee keeping hobby. He owns a few properties in these parts, has a few pickups that he uses for the bee keeping, and no real need for the Explorer anymore. Sounds good so far.

The Explorer looks the right size. As Bill takes us up and down his road it seems to run okay. Maybe a little rough around the edges. The interior is ruby red and has lots of space – front and back. The only thing is, the engine doesn’t look like it’s been touched in 10 years and runs a bit bumpy. The outside shell is showing wear and not a little rust. Seems to go alright today, but possibly hasn’t been looked after too well. (Picture: Upstairs view from a double decker bus - Westbank bridge)

Sean and I deliberate. We like the Explorer’s size, but we want something we can rely on. Perhaps if Paul is willing to be more flexible on the price… I call Paul, our first seller, and suggest that while we like his car, it’s smaller than we want and a bit more expensive- say, by $400. He immediately brings down the price.

Bill takes us back to Orchard Plaza, he’s got some errands to run. So we’re back where we started. Time to talk over some coffee. I bring out the Capital News, the local rag, and ring around. Unfortunately none of the vans that we’ve circled are available today. The coffee girl is cute though. Cheeky grin too. Some of those Canadian girls… Anyway, that leaves us at a quandary – it’s almost 2pm and we’ve got to decide whether we buy today or take the bus back up and try again this weekend. Spare days are hard to come by. Is there a vehicle we want bad enough?

At the bank we withdraw our cash for a purchase. Sean and I have somewhere along the way tacitly accepted that we’re road tripping together and will split the cost. I’m not too sure when this happened – perhaps during our conversation at Raakel’s the past week? Whatever the case, we want this done. We know that somehow the purchase will make our post-season plans real. Solidify it in a way that the passing days are unable to.

Aside on Sean:
Sean completed his education in Bris-vegas, majoring in Graphic Design. At 21 he’s done a bit of multimedia and web work but enjoying a break in the snow (like the rest of us up here?).

Sean started off in Canada. His parents met and settled in Calgary (I think). They then emigrated off to New Zealand, before moving to Brisbane in his teens. Currently he’s working the night audit shift at Cen Res, with a few 8pm – 4am shifts. Him and Jae skated a lot together earlier in the season, before the rink melted. I guess he’s looking forward to our road trip as much to see daylight as to see more of North America.

The decision
As of Thursday I’m the 50% owner of a car – a 1988 Jeep Cherokee. It’s in near mint condition, with a roaring V6 motor, 4 wheel-drive, leather interior, sunroof, CD player and power everything. “Fully loaded” as they say in these parts. It runs great for a 18 year-old vehicle and having looked it’s last owner in the eye (and bargained him down $300), I’m feeling pretty good about it. Dave hasn’t had a gander yet, but I think we did okay. Insurance was a killer, about $200/month because we took out full insurance with $5 million excess. Apparently that’s the cost of traveling through the litigious US of A. (Picture: Sean, Moi and Paul with the Jeep)


Celebrating our purchase
We didn’t get back to Big White until 6pm. Sean drove us back up. It’s different driving a 4WD. It’s different driving on the other side of the road.

By 7:30pm we are sitting at our dining table in the Ptarmigan 311. I’m in the midst of cooking a peanut inspired stir fry; I just have these moments of genius. The refrigerator calls me, or rather the dry Riesling that I’ve been keeping for a special occasion in the bottom. It’s sat there for at least a month and a half. Yes, this is an occasion to celebrate. Sean is still working his way through a Canadian (thanks Dave), but I decide to test the bottle of Quail’s Gate – it’s the best excuse I’ve had this week.

Sean and I are having a great chat, a rarity up here on the mountain. It must be the lack of smoke and bad music. We talk about home and growing up, university days, girl problems and directions. His parents originally met in Canada, but they moved to New Zealand while he was growing up, and he completed his final years in Brisbane. At heart he considers himself an Australian. It’s those formative years. He’s a good guy to chat with. I think to myself that I’m looking forward to a road trip. The company should be fine, no stress. We’re both chill enough and I think we can accommodate each other’s sight seeing needs.

Off to Carvers
We do away with the bottle of wine and make our way out. It’s hitting 9pm, just the right time to see what’s happening on the mountain tonight. Sam’s looks empty, and a few minutes later we discover that Raakel’s isn’t much better. But then we run into Kiwi Kate, “Maybe you guys should check out Carvers. There’s a few people out tonight. It’s the (Kiwi) boys’ farewell” she says. Nice one. Thanks Katie!

There are more than a few familiar faces at the bar when we walk in. Lauren and Precious are off to one corner, plotting away as usual. Carla is at the bar, and I spot Jess and Cam, Emma and Sarah. Yes, definitely some familiar faces. (Picture: Sean, Moi and Sarah @ Carvers)

The night passes in random conversation, face pulling and a few drinks. The bar staff at Carvers aren’t used to the crowd and are struggling to serve fast enough. I introduce Sean to some of the group and he’s soon mixing it up. Emma gifts me with a gasp and dirty look when I ask her not so innocently how she’s doing with Ski Patrol. Carla gets friendly for a photo. Lauren and I argue who is more attractive:
“You’re pretty”, I say.
“No, you’re handsome”, she replies.
“No, you’re more pretty”, I declare.
“No, you’re definitely more handsome”, is her measured reply.
We continue on for a good five minutes. The conversation doesn’t really seem to end as much as disperse.


If I stay out much longer I’ll turn into a pumpkin
It must be after twelve by the time we start to shuffle out of the bar. Josh is on duty at the front desk. I pose for a final picture with the twins. Cheese or cheesy? Wandering out I feel around my jeans pockets for my keys, but they aren’t there. Have I lost them? The next half hour is passed treading through the snow looking for a red lanyard and Ptarmigan keys. I manage to slip and twist my left thumb convincingly. No keys. (Picture: Sean & Moi - "cheese!")

I’m tired and it’s cold, so I pop into the Château and find Jae and Sean deep in conversation on the comfy chairs. It must be important. Nonetheless I ask Jae if he can spare his keys since I seem to have misplaced mine.
“I don’t suppose you left them back at condo?” Jae asks innocently. Perhaps he’s having flashbacks to my first evening on the hill.
“Umm.. no. I don’t think… well, maybe.” My synapses aren’t working so well. It’s sleep deprivation.

He hands over the keys. I head off home. It’s about 1:30am. It’s definitely past my bedtime. I wonder where Cinderella left her glass slipper tonight? Walking in I thank the powers that be that my little bowl of stir fry is still sitting on the counter wrapped in plastic. It smells so good. But, there are no noodles left. So I pop it in the microwave to warm and turn the stove on to boil some water. Investing in breakfast is a good thing I’ve found. (Picture: Security Tim & Carla - illicit kiss)

The food is delicious and the water is boiled so I start the noodles going. Time to get changed for bed. I wash up and slip into the pjs. The noodles are still going. I fall asleep. When I wake I smell peanut butter. Mmm… I smell good. I wake again around 7:30am, yes definitely smelling of peanu... wait a second! Did I turn the stove off? I stumble out of bed and the peanut smell follows me. In fact, it gets stronger. I look at the stove, then the sink. There are my noodles, all solid. And my peanut stir fry? It’s barely recognizable. Just charcoaled lumps in a pot. I’ve got some scrubbing in front of me, and some apologizing to do to Dave. Eeek!

Our condo now smells of cooked peanut butter.

29 March, 2006 (Wednesday) Part II

Dressing it up again
Last night was yet another dress-up night at Sam's. As the season progresses it feels like we have them more and more often - last week it was the 80s party, and there's the Sam's beach party to look forward to this weekend. I'm noticing that as the season progresses the level of effort and bizareness decreases - a reflection of generalised apathy, or have we poached all the good retro gear from Value Village?

Of course, there are always the stalwarts who costume it to the max. But they're becoming fewer, and are generally of the more pickled variety. I think it's pretty safe to say that the botheredness factor is definitely on the ebb. I know mine is.

I think it's just that after three and a half months a routine has established itself. I know what the night is going to be like; the crowd, the vibe, who is going to be out and how the night will finish. It will be the same glassy eyed faces, the same music, the same pumping bodies on the dance floor and the same stunned looks when the ugly lights turn on at 1am and people are herded out by security in their red t-shirts. (Picture: Sarah, Foxy, Kym and Ardana - Foxy can't resist an opportunity for drag)

Perhaps the other influence is the realisation of how much money we've all sunk into the place. It's got a virtual monopoly for entertainment on the hill, but is pretty tight in giving back any special value. As a regular I can't say that I get served any faster or drinks any cheaper. The joys of a captive audience. Good times. Good times.

Pros and Hos and Snows
Tuesday night is normally staff night. It's generally a good opportunity to get out and mix it up. Indeed for a while it became almost ritual to get out of a Tuesday night. Although in the last few weeks this has eased up significantly. Perhaps as a way of rekindling the flame Sam's cooked up "Golf Pros and Tennis Hos". Break out the rackets and golf clubs! (Picture: Ardana, Kate, Moi)

The night started slowly enough, but soon picked up pace. By 11 the floor was back to mid-season crowdedness, as staff came out of the woodwork for one last bash at Sam's. The girls had gone all out in skimpy mid-drifts, mid-thigh mini skirts, white sneakers and headbands. There was plaid and tartan out in droves, long shorts and longer socks to match. Some of the guys had taken the opportunity (once again) to cross dress in searing white and flop the old fella
out at the slightest opportunity (see picture from blog-update 24 March, 2006 - I actually didn't notice until after I'd posted it). Big White is all about class.

My apathy had exerted itself, so I hadn't bothered dressing up for the occasion - I had for all the
others and the novelty was wearing a bit thin. So I spent the evening gliding from group to group, inspecting costumes, pulling faces and dropping the odd salicious wink. But it was another night at Sam's, and before too long I'd had my fill. Midnight rolled past and I was trudging across the ice home. Good times.

29 March, 2006 (Wednesday)

My friend Emera (kids Ski School) finally took me out for my first snowboarding experience. I’m sore, but still intact. She tells me that I'm not her worst student ever. So full of compliments. I wonder if it's a Canadian thing, or maybe she's been hanging around Australians for too long? ...Probably been hanging around Australians for too long.

Going snowboarding
After getting back from the Ridge, Ryan (from Sydney) fixes me up with rental boots and a board. The board is a 158cm with flow bindings (goofy stance). The boots are soft, and compared to ski boots almost like walking in oversized normal footwear; surprisingly light and flexible.

As promised, I meet Emera in front of the Village Centre. It is a warm sunny day and Emera has an iced donut in hand - afternoon sustenance. She takes me out to the flats outside of the Swiss Bear (in the main village) and gives me a quick run down of strapping in and skating. We then back-edge down the kids slope. It gives me a feel for proper stance and balance.

Five minutes of me goofing off and we start down Hummingbird. By a third of the way down I'm sweating heavily, with my sleeves rolled up and my iPod tucked (safely) away. It takes about 20 minutes to stack my way down the run. As the end of the season approaches, especially on sunny days, the snow starts to get slushy. It means that it’s easier to catch an edge (and land on my backside), but at least it's a softer landing. A forgiving way to start.

I get the hang of edging from side to side, and then try to work on keeping balance and turns. Emera tells me to keep my arms out for balance, and turn with my upper body. “Don’t look at the trees! Don’t look at the trees!” she screams as I gather speed. Of course I stare straight at the trees and almost ended up eating pine needles.

After making it off the lift without too much drama (I manage to travel a good 10 metres before falling) my second time down takes half as long. I'm falling less and getting a feel for turning. Still, it feels wrong to be sliding down with my face to the mountain. Toe edging goes against my skiing instincts.

The third time takes maybe 5 minutes, and we are done for the day. My tailbone is a little bruised and I have ice burn on my knuckles from landings and levering myself back up, but Emera is a very patient teacher. All in all, I enjoyed the experience and think I'll have to give it another go. Just have to find the opportunity before this season is done and dusted.

25 March, 2006 (Saturday)

Becoming a ski bum
It is official – I am a ski bum. I splurged on Saturday and now I’m the proud owner of, not one, but two pairs of skis. Yes, they’re pretty. Yes, they’re different. No, I have no idea how I’m going to get them home. My next purchase was always going to be a ski bag. Know any deals on mailing package across the globe?

My newest babies are a pair of 168cm Rossignol Scratch FS’s (Free Style). They’re season old twin tips that I acquired via an ex-rentals sale. The top-sheet (upper part of the ski) is a little scratched, but the bases and integrity of the skis are tops. Twin tips, being niche skis, apparently don’t get as much time out of the shop as all-mountain carvers.

In the end I paid $CAD256 (including tax) for them (this converts to around $AUS320), which isn’t bad for skis and bindings at this level. As far as use goes, while they carve relatively well, they’re not made for hard-core slopes skiing but are more suited for the terrain park – plenty of flexibility, twin tips (which means that the back edges curve as well as the front) and un-waxed bases mean that they are more forgiving on jumps and provide cleaner contact on the rails (if I could actually manage to mount the rails properly in the first place). I think of it as part of my education here at Big White. (Picture: On the snow - my Head Monster all-mountain carves)


Try before you buy
I did take them out a few times before I purchased. The first night Pez (rentals) escorted me out to the park and gave me some tips on launching jumps, spins, jump 180s and hitting the rail. I have a long way to go, and a lot of bruises to collect, before I can do any of these things properly, but I guess it's a good way to pass the time.

With the jumps apparently it’s a matter of timing, speed and stability. You have to pop up when you hit the lip of the jump, holding a compact shape for most of your air-time until you pencil out at the end. Apparently. It seemed to work. The rails and boxes require a slow entry, popping into a side-on stance, weight centred and toward the front. I can still hear the echo of the laughter from the chairlift going past. Yet to get one of those… but then, I don’t think I’ve committed to throwing myself at those metal plates.

The second time I took them out I was night skiing down Sunrun. It was a little icy. Compared to my Head all-mountain carves they (unsurprisingly) didn’t hold an edge as well, and had a tendency to jump, the extra spring translating into an energetic bounce, especially at speed. Nevertheless, the different feel also meant that they were easier to land and managed to hold a decent pace. (Picture: Sunset on the Sunrun)

I haven’t had much opportunity to take them out since, but I think I’m due some park time in the next few weeks. Just have to let my bruised shins heal a little.

24 March, 2006 (Friday)

End of season job rush
Work, work, work: The mantra of my past few weeks. In the last week I've managed to crack 60 hours mark, hitting 65 hours (combined) between tickets and my job with Services@Big White. I worked 7-days, exceeding 12-hours on the time sheet on two of them. A good effort. Hopefully it will translate into some decent money in the bank. We can hope. It is expensive traveling.

Services@Big White: As far as the crew goes, they’re not bad. Sometimes a bit chummy, but also amusing and good natured. They do have an annoying habit of ignoring their cell phones at crucial times, but toward the end of the season it’s kind of hard to change that. (Picture: Services @ Big White staff Karl, Stewart and Dan in their work gear - Sam's dress-up night)

We have a few Australians, more than a few Poms, and a Kiwi or two. They do hot tub maintenance for most of the privately owned chalets on the mountain, as well as more general maintenance, chalet arrivals and departures. I’m their office support – looking after invoicing, dispatch and rostering since Kelly went off to work for Oxfam in Africa for a while. Because I'm juggling two jobs I'm sharing office duties with Alex (the Pom).

This week has been a bit lighter. I’ll be lucky to break 50 hours. A bit more time off, and three nights on the slopes – the last week of night skiing. I’m trying to squeeze as much out of this staff ski pass as possible. I’m not doing too badly – I’ve had 50-something days where I have been scanned at the lifts, and probably another ten where I’ve been through without.

Night ski no more
I did back-to-back shifts today. First my 11am at Services @ Big White, then at 4pm straight into $5 Friday. Being the last $5 Friday it was madness. Tim and I were on together and worked through customers for two hours straight. I found out the next day that between the two of us we’d made over 300 transactions between us. While it isn’t a huge amount of money (compared to what we charge for a day ticket up here – close to $CAD70) it’s a lot of tickets.

It’s funny the diversity you get of a cheap-ass Friday. There’s a lot of neophyte skiers, arrogant locals and blow-ins who are surprised but happy to get a discounted ski deal (Canadians love discounts). The last one for the season - Make the most of it cos the Friday Night special is gone!

23 March, 2006 (Thursday)

Dinner with the Kirby’s: Arrive late and leave early. Sarah drops by and I help her with her photos.

Tonight we had dinner with our landlords – the Kirby’s. They own a couple of condos in our complex and often stay up here for the odd weekend. We’ve seen them semi-regularly over the course of the season, but I haven’t had many real conversations with them (unfortunately).

Russell is the IT manager of a national engineering and civil planning consultancy. His wife, Anne-marie, is a software developer, and has just begun her own start-up dealing in some specialized medical diagnostic software. They have two children, Emerson (11) and Olivia (9) who are disgracefully smart and articulate. They can also put me to shame on the slopes.


I actually forgot what day it was. All I registered was that it was a weekday and I was working in the village. Days bleed into one another up here, and with night skiing finishing up over the next couple of days I was eager to get out as much as I could. One last hurrah. Bang up my shins and try something different. (Picture: Night skiing - Carla posing)

I’d taken the 168cm Rossignol Scratch FS’s out the past week and thought I’d give the 174cm a go, to see what an extra 6cm feel like under boot. It was just hitting 5:30pm by the time I was kitted out and then Jae gave me a call.
“Hey Ben, where are you? Did you get my message?”
“Hey Jae. Message, ummm… no, afraid I didn’t. I’m just going down to the Bullet. What’s up?” I say.
“You know we’ve got dinner with the Kirby’s tonight? Well, it’s on from 5:30pm. You knew that, right?” Jae sounds a little peeved. As in – “Ben, WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?”
“Oh man! No way. I totally forgot. I’ll be up there as soon as I can.” I end the call and stow the phone. What should I do? What could I do?

It's not a simple decision, see I’ve got on these new skis and I’m at the chair lift already. Is it just as fast to take them down the hill once and then get them back to rentals? I'm here already...

So I belt down Sunrun as fast as I can. The skis feel longer and don’t turn as cleanly as I’m used to. But then, they’re park skis so they’re not tuned quite the same as my Monsters. I run them back to the shop and then quick march up the slope to the Ptarmigan, throwing my own skis into the locker and running up the stairs two at a time.

By the time I get back to 311 I’m dripping with sweat and puffing. It’s almost 6pm, I’m already half an hour late. Is it better to turn up late but stinky, or bite the bullet? I figure I might as well add 5 minutes and smell good. I bite the bullet. It tastes kind of metallic. (Picture: Night skiing - I'm skiing backwards!)

Anne-marie accepts my apologies graciously. I’m offered a drink as soon as I walk in and find the condo bustling with voices. Not only is Jae, Dave and Josh in attendance, but we’re also joined by Amie and Josh’s dad. It’s going to be a full family affair. Josh and Amie sit together couply like, and I find myself at the end of their sofa. Olivia is drawn to Amie, being the next youngest female in attendance. We exchange banter for 20 minutes, Russell breaks out the beer which has been cooling in ice on the balcony. Rickards ale – dark but tasty.

Dinner is fantastic. A roast with gravy, fresh vegetables (the asparagus is fresh and crisp), followed by pie and ice cream – your choice of bumbleberry or apple. I try one of each. Dinner finishes. Anne-marie insists that she doesn’t need any assistance cleaning up. It’s 8:20pm and I remember that I’ve booked in a meeting with a work friend, so I excuse myself, promising to return in 20-minutes.

I’ve only got back up when Sarah turns up at the door. She’s our hard-partying, blonde and leggy ticket-tart from Ballarat. Looking pretty and wearing her usual double-layered tops and black pants. I promised her a week ago to help her dump her photos off her camera and put it on CD. We sit down and get to work. (Picture: Dave and Me - Dinner at the Copper Kettle's Snow Ghost lounge)

25-minutes and we’re almost done. The rest of the crew file in. I make introductions. The dinner downstairs has broken up – the kids are tired so they were sent on their way. I feel mortified that I’ve not only arrived late, but also left early and not said proper thank yous to such gracious hosts. But it’s too late. Hopefully there will be time tomorrow.

23 March, 2006 (Thursday) 80s Night

Last night was Raakel's 80's night party. I wasn't planning on attending, until Emily turned up at my doorstep and insisted that I should get dressed and attend.

A party at Raakel's
Well, I was going to have a quiet night in on Wednesday and everything was going to plan - I'd had a post-ski nap, the chicken thai green curry was shaping up nicely and I'd managed to scoff down a dessert of ice cream and oreos. But despite best intentions, at 11:00pm I still found myself lined outside Raakel's in the midst of a retro 80's malange of painfully flouro ski wear and leopard skin leotards.

I blame it on Emily, of course. She swanned into our apartment just as I was about to get settled for the evening, all glam 80s; a crazy bandana, brown top and tights. It was "Benny, aren't you coming out?" "Benny, come on - it will be fun." "Benny, just pop in for half an hour, I haven't seen you all week!". So of course, being the social butterfly that I am, I capitulated. (Picture: Mike, Emily, John & Lauren)

In the line
So anyway, it was 11:00pm going on 11:30pm and I was standing in this line at Raakel's. It was crowded and it was rowdy. The bouncer was sniffing an awful lot, and so far off his face that all you could see was pupil. Nevertheless he was blocking the doorway pretty convincingly and there was at least 20 of us shiverring outside waiting to get in - unheard of at Raakel's mid-week. Inside it didn't look so crowded at all. A few bodies around the bar and people popping in and out the main door to hit the bathrooms. More than a few skipped the line by dropping down the stairs to the washrooms and then walking back up and straight in. I was too close to the front to manage it, although Emily somehow managed to charm her way past. Typical. Double standards.

Aftter half an hour's waiting the bouncer took pity and let a few of us through. Inside it was busy, but not as crowded as I'd seen it previously. The dance floor was happening though, and the smoking room looked packed out. Lots of familiar faces, majority staff - Lauren (Westridge) was there with her ski patroller (Charles), Jess and Emma (the twins), Lauren (housekeeping), Carla (tickets), Carla (retail), Precious (the one and only) and then there was Ash and Stewart (from Services @ Big White). Soon after I got in Chris and Mike / John (the other twins) appeared too.

Like Grease
Lauren and Precious won touques (beanies) for their dancing. Precious was looking like she was having a great time (she confided in me "I thought I was Olivia Newton John on the dance floor. I was dancing like I'd never danced before!"), while Lauren announced that she'd decided on her post-season plans and that, like it or not, she was coming along with me road-tripping. Bonus! Talking to Sean (night audit), it seems as though he might be headed in similar directions. The end of season travels are starting to shape up! (Picture: Tickets represented - Carla, Precious, Me)

1am rolled along too soon, so I walked the cold way home along the icey path.

22 March, 2006 (Wednesday)

(Picture: Snowshoe Sam's frontage - Whitefoot carpark)

Death of Sam's
Ding-dong, Sam’s is dead. Occupancy is down below 30% on the hill and the staff have tucked their heads in for the final weeks. Everybody is trying to save a few extra dollars before going away. Almost everybody is partied out. Certainly the mountain feels smaller.

Of a week night now you’re lucky to see 20-peole in there past 10. It feels quiet. It feels like the end of the season is almost upon us. Good night Sam’s. Good night.

Generosity knows no bounds
I've finally received my Valentine's Day gift voucher. It took a few weeks of chasing and being played like a hot potato by Sam's various day managers, but they've finally handed it over - all $25 of it!

With that kind of generosity, what can I do but immortalise it online?

The original Valentine's Day promise was a dinner for 2 to a value of $200. Sam's has reinterpreted their original promise, splitting the $200 between the eight of us. Thing is, a fair number haven't claimed their prizes having left the mountain or given up. Pity, eh?

So this is my little gift voucher. I wonder what I can get with it... a pint of beer and a bowl of chips probably? It's a ready reward for my hard hours at the pub. Giving back to the community. I'm trying!

21 March, 2006 (Tuesday)

(Picture: Amie, Josh and Rick - one happy family)

Josh’s Birthday. Given the late notice I think we all slacked off. Jae is in Edmonton right now and Dave and I have been working straight. We ended up having dinner at the Copper Kettle. It was a nice night.

20 March, 2006 (Monday)

A Night with Boris the Booze Bubbler
Chris (Happy Valley) invited me to the party on Saturday night. It was his housemate, Katy’s 19th Birthday and the rules were simple – bring a small mickey of alcohol, dress comfortable and look forward to a good time. Who was I to refuse?

Finding the venue in Trailside was a little tricky, but I ran into Precious on the way and we soon found ourselves in the midst of a roaring little house party. I was introduced to the crew and Boris. Boris was found in the house at the beginning of the season, but wasn’t put to work until December. It was Chris, the General as he’s known to some, who suggested that Boris could be used for parties. Thus Boris the Booze Bubbler was born, his 10L tank filled with a lethal alcoholic concoction. Party goers are required to get a permanent marker slash for every pint glass consumed. The more, the merrier.

Emera promised to give me a snowboarding lesson. Everybody has to try it, apparently. Will and I discovered a shared link – another globe trotting ex-Atlassian employee:
“You’re THAT Ben? Oh my gawd, we should call Mike. Hey Mike, you’ll never guess who I’m standing here with…”
“When are you going to be in Vegas? No way. We gotta meet up.”
Yes, my reputation precedes me.I'm not sure what that reputation entails, but I'm hoping that the accommodation in San Fran is still on offer...

By the end of the night those with 5 or more slashes were in good shape. Chris had done a snowbank nudie run, Matt had passed out and Boris had claimed 7 more victims. Precious and I escaped while we could, a bag of salt and vinegar chips in hand (I had three permanent marker slashes, but no sloshes). It was a fun filled party. All hail Boris. Happy Birthday Katy!


Josh’s Dad Arrives
Josh’s dad has arrived and is staying with us for a few days. He comes with a big grin, a few bottles of wine, a will to ski and news that tomorrow is Josh’s birthday. Surprise! We only heard about his visit on Thursday when Jae brought it up just before they headed off to work, but it should be a good couple of weeks for him. Welcome Rick!

Amie has coincidently moved out. It’s been just on two weeks now. The original plan was a few days while she got settled, but hassles with finding a car and accommodation prolonged that. So now she’s staying at the hostel for a few days while she gets sorted out. She has a few leads, although it seems to have been more difficult to find accommodation than the number of people who are leaving would suggest. Just bad luck so far? She and Josh seem to be getting along fabulously though. Although guys - hands where we can see them! I wish they'd stop doing that during dinner... when we watch the TV... when I'm just sitting on the lounge after work.

19 March, 2006 (Sunday)

It’s my Mum’s birthday today. Happy Birthday Mum! Another year younger. A few more and she'll be 21 again.

It was almost belated, most of the time I forget that we’re actually 19 hours behind Oz here. I actually think of it as being 5 hours ahead – it’s easier to compute. It’s hard here – time just runs away and there isn’t much on the way of facilities up here. The souvenirs are awful for a ski resort (I can’t bring myself to buy another t-shirt) and I’m going to have to go into town for a card. Happy birthday mum!

Jae is in Edmonton for a few days. He’s being shown the sights by Kev and seeing an NHL Oilers game live. Current estimated timne of return is Wednesday. Fingers crossed. Safe trip.