SKIIIIISSSSSS

It's hard to want to write when there's so much fun stuff happening in this little Whistler bubble. But when it's been raining for four days, and temperatures are above zero, we all know the snow will be rubbish and slushy. That's the joys of having a season (and a season's pass) in the snow - there's no pressure to go up everyday, and to stay up all day. We've found the perfect timeline though - 8.03am bus to Creekside, and we can be up the top of the mountain by 8.32am (there's clocks). On a powder day, we can get two runs of fresh tracks in, even if I start work at 9.30am. And if it's shit - we go to the pub, then home for a nap. Apres ski naps are the best - you're so exhausted, your hair is flat and oily from your helmet and inside is so warm that your face flushes and you pass out. Apres ski drinks are also quite nice..nothing like a Caesar to restore all essential nutrients to an exhausted body - vitamin C, pepper and vodka...all essential.

Phill and I have just made a massive investment in our future. Skis! I have never owned or used brand new skis or boots, and I'm as excited as a fat kid (or even just me) over cake. When we first arrived in September, there was huge sales on. Without knowing anything about skis or boots, and being a little too excited to be here, I bought some 150cm skis and boots two sizes too big - off a very cheeky salesman who in hindsight didn't care much about me. I'm 178cm, and skis that size look ridiculous on me, especially since I can, you know, ski.

So after riding them for 6 weeks and (slowly) learning how to ski powder, and getting paid our Christmas wages, we splashed out. My new skis are twin-tips (which means I can learn how to go backwards and do jumps), 169cm, with brand new light-weight bindings. My boots are so awesome that they only have two buckles, and look a little like terminator boots. The linings are so soft and supple, I'm pretty sure they're lambs wool. They're super cozy, but a little too cozy on the toes - bruise kinda cozy. It's painful at the moment, but I've gotta just stick with it and mould them into my wonderful foot shape.

These skis though - phwoar! They just float on the snow. I'm finally hunting down powder instead of trying to avoid it, and that's a good feeling. On the groomers they turn nice and sharp and I'm getting the hang of the extra length.

Phill also got some brand spanking new bindings, and snow pants - so now we're all set with proper gear and we're looking good. I'm still rocking out the Vancouver 2010 ski pants, but obviously I do it with style and panache.

So with such big investments, it's highly likely we will book in for another season. Two months have passed already, and I've only have one day on Blackcomb mountain! Christmas was a hectic time for all the locals - Phill and I both had only one day off over two weeks. It's a kind of write-off period, and now thank goodness it's back to normal. I have three days off a week, and Phill can ride every morning before work. This week I was even forced to ski to and from work - the village gondola was down so all us pros got to ride out about 4pm (before hitting the pub).

The next six weeks or so are shaping up to be awesome. We have Nick and Sam coming for three weeks, then our old neighbour from Newcastle Joey coming for a week, and finally - after a year without seeing them - Mum and Dad! Mum's going to cook so much for us, and Dad is going to be so impressed with my turns.

But then even when we don't have old friends visiting - we have our new friends! This little friendship group we've established is just ridiculously awesome. If you're sick you will get a home-cooked meal; if you lose a ski it will be found; if you injure your shoulder, you will get prescription drugs; and when skiing you know these people will wait at every landmark before spanking it down the run to the next junction. I learn so much from my awesome Swedish skiing friends and just thrive when I'm on the mountain with them. Without our seasoned locals Helen and Mitch, we would not have discovered half of this freaking huge mountain. And of course our token Canadian Lisa lends a bit of respect to our cause while living in Canada.

There's a constant drip outside my window right now - all the snow on the roof is freaking melting. It's a slushy old way of life at the moment - but when the temperatures do finally drop, it will be a dangerous place because all the slush will turn to ice! I have bruises all over from dainty falls on my arse, and now I strap up my helmet even when walking to the bus. Just to be safe.

I have a new favourite sound - obviously because of my skis. When the snow is a bit chopped up, and because my skis are so awesome and fat, they slap the snow. Just a soft slapping noise that you won't hear anywhere else. Slappity slap. Second favourite sound - avalanche bombing in the morning. Third favourite sound - the beeping of the snow plow as it reverses in and out of driveways on our street - that means it's been snowing overnight! And although I still love the sound of rain, the silence of snow is better.

Spankin' the pow'

What a glorious day up the mountain! This morning, Phill got his season's pass (and a silly photo), it was a sunny bluebird day, there were no queues for lifts..brilliant day all round.
The snow was sparkling - actually sparkling, like a glorious gay guy mounted the chairlift and threw glitter-bombs around everywhere. And when proper snow started falling, it didn't actually fall but just floated around, deciding which trail to bless with its presence. The weather was deliriously inconsistent and when you came into a patch of sunshine the warmth was instant and you could spot the ice patches coming up ahead - and hopefully avoid them.

The snow isn't that good yet - there's still only less than a quarter of the mountain open. We won't be able to ski to the village for at least another couple of weeks. But, to be honest, the download on the gondola is a great time to debrief, get the helmet off and plan the apres sessions.

The photos below:

The INCREDIBLE view from a trail on Whistler mountain on my first day of skiing. I was stopping at every corner, taking out my camera and fumbling with frozen fingers to try and capture the moment.

Lisa, our token Canadian friend and awesome snowboarder, giving high fives for the view.

The Roundhouse at the top of Whistler mountain - where I work!

Lisa and I on our first day up the mountain.

And we're off!

When it's -12 degrees outside, it's hard to get motivated. The layers become ridiculous - thermals, trousers, two pairs of socks, snow boots, singlet, thermals, jumper, jacket, scarf, beanie, gloves...just to get the mail. It's deceptive weather as well - not a cloud in the sky, the sun reflecting off all the snow...until BAM, there's that wind factor.

So that's why I find myself home alone at 4pm, drinking wine and eating cheese (CHEESE! Luxury!) and pickles, listening to classical music and reading a book, watching outside get rapidly dark and even colder. We need a vertical door snake to sop the breeze coming in and hopefully avoid ridiculous heating bills.

Whistler has become an absolute hive of activity. Whistler mountain opened a week early on Friday. There were people lining up for first lift by 2am - apparently the first five in line get a free season's pass. The buses are now packed with the few unfortunates going to work, and skiiers and boarders hobbling awkwardly with all their gear.

I had my first day of skiing on the Saturday, and with less than a quarter of the mountain open, I can confidently say that Australia's mountains (bless them) are incomparable to these Rockies. It was pretty patchy in some places, because so many people (including, apparently, Percy from Dawson's Creek!) have to do the same runs, and there hasn't really been much fresh snow since Friday. So imagine how excited I am about Thursday, when both Blackcomb and Whistler mountains will be open, and people disperse and go explore, and I can have a whole trail to myself - fresh pow and all.

And imagine this - everyday I work, I still get to go up the mountain. Crazy, I know. I've got a part-time, hopefully soon full-time, job as a cashier at the Roundhouse on top of Whistler mountain - 'The largest Alpine restaurant in the world"! It's a bit of a commute, but I thought the gondola trip is so much cooler than buses and trains. Now I have to remember a thermos of tea for the morning trip up, and some beers for the trip down. I've had two days at work so far, and for such a repetitive job, it's quite fun. Every customer is stoked to be there and usually super friendly, and the views are amazing. The staff is an eclectic bunch of people - Aussies, Kiwis, Frenchies, Germans, Brits, SAffers, and even a lone Trinidad and Tobaginan (he will probably stick with tobogganing). Everyone is stoked to be there, stoked to get a season's pass, and stoked to be able to ski to and from work. I get paid $9.57 an hour, but the perks make up for it - the season's pass, 50% off food, 25% off retail, free ski and board lessons, free trips to Vancouver...Lucky we're not here to save though.

So the pieces are coming together, and after our 9 months of awesome travel and five weeks of depressing unemployment, we get to this time of year when even with -21 degrees, I'm still willing to layer up and head to the pub to chat about how awesome the next six months are going to be.

There's a bear in there

Whistler is this bizarre town that the Winter Olympics perfected into a fairy tale village. I'm sure there are plenty of fairy lights and gently falling snow and Christmas decorations and egg nog come winter. Now is the 'shoulder season' - and not only because all the people you ask for a job give you the cold shoulder. In summer the mountain opens a BMX course, there's a tourist gondola from the top of Blackcomb Mountain to the top of Whistler Mountain, and there's many lakes to boat and fish in and swim and frollick in, and mountains to climb. The bike park is now closed, the rains are here (Marge), and it's just a little bit too cold to be outdoors, unless you're in the sun in the middle of the day, there's no wind, you have gloves and a beanie on, and a thermos of hot coffee.

So, needless to say, not many places are hiring new staff until the snow season starts. It's disheartening to go to every restaurant, bar and cafe in town, hand in a resume, and know that it's just going to go to the bottom of the pile and they will forget my happy face and friendly demeanor, not to mention impeccable dress sense. I've had one interview so far, at a sports shop (me???). I nearly spewed on the guy, I was that hungover. I had to turn every 'so what do you know about different ski brands' question into 'I'm really friendly and have great customer service skills, and I can juggle!' answer. And $10 an hour? I have a degree! I'd much prefer to work in a restaurant - night shifts mean a day on the mountain, and Canadians sure do tip well. This week I will do another round of the restaurants and cafes and make sure they REMEMBER ME!
Phillbo has had better luck - experience in tourism certainly helps. He's had two interviews for the same maintenance position at a big hotel here; he just needs to meet Dave the maintenance manager (Dave's been a bit ill), but hopefully he can start work soon.

At the start of November Phill and his sister Kate and I move into our own house. At the moment we are living in a share house with two French Canadian guys, possibly the biggest stoners ever. One is depressingly pessimistic and should just leave Whistler so he can't whinge about all the workers, the landlords, the tourists, the mountains... He also has a very deep voice and can talk about shit for hours; not talk WITH you, but talk AT you. One of those. French Canadian, though, is hilarious. It sounds more Swedish than French - you can pick up words every now and then, but they sound so funny!

So our days at the moment comprise of checking Craigs List for jobs, watching movies, and exploring the valley and village. We live about a 10 minute bus ride from the village, but five minutes walk to Creekside, where a gondola goes up Whistler mountain. There are kilometres of trails to and from town and around the lakes. On nice days, it's so beautiful to see all the autumnal trees reflected in the still lakes - on miserable days, it's cold and wet. We did a four-hour walk around the valley on a miserable day, and got cold and wet, but we saw our first BEAR! On a golf course! It's beary bear friendly around here - a look but don't touch attitude; but there's no garbage collection because bears will go through the garbage! Crazy bears.
Kate and I have also joined the local gym in an attempt to get fit for the snow season. It's not like Australia where you go to the snow for one or two days - we live here! So we need to be fit to have day after day on the mountain. Nine months of minimal physical exercise has certainly taken its toll.

A slight obstacle...

September 26th, we arrived in Canada. We were very excited to have a job organised as caretakers at an RV park just outside of Whistler. They picked us up from the airport, drove us the spectacular route along the Sea to Sky Highway and to the RV park. They took us to dinner, we fought past the jetlag to appear interested, and we stayed the night in the log cabin at the park.

The next morning, however, they told us that it 'wouldn't work' as they wanted a couple to commit to 5 years as managers of the park. We were confused, as the only time frame we had heard of was six months as caretaker, and six months as managers. They neglected to mention the five year time frame in any emails or phone calls, not even on the job description as posted on Craigslist. We were pissed. We now had to join the hordes of people coming to Whistler looking for jobs and houses. We were told two weeks before we arrived that we had the job, so obviously we stopped looking and applying online; we even spent that little bit extra at Oktoberfest because we thought we'd get straight to work. But, being the intrepid and flexible travellers we are, we could just go with the flow. It was an awesome dinner anyway...

We then spent three nights at the best hostel - the Whistler HI, at the old Athletes Village from the Winter Olympics. We began job and house searching straight away. Phill's sister arrived in Whistler on Monday morning so we caught up and all attacked the job and house market with ferocity.

A Canada specific blog, whacko!