Sitting down and thinking on it for a while I can think of a reason
why most people, including me, seem to not be able to keep their
blogs updated after a few months of travelling. As I have travelled
for the last two and a half years, it has become a normal state for
me now. I no longer have a constant place I live at or extraordinary
things happening in the area I'm settled in, as I tend to travel and
stay at those places that many take of work for to visit and spend a
lot of their earnings on. For me this has all become semi-normal, so
not something I would write in a blog which I reserve for special
occasions.
Thinking about this, I
will tray and get in to writing more often again, as in the years to
come where ever I may settle down, I will most likely regret not
writing about all the things I did whilst younger.
On to the happenings
then...
A week ago my flatmate
Mark said he wanted to go to Craigieburn for a ski. A bit of
back-story on Craigieburn is in order I think. Most places in the
world you here about skiing are giant ski fields, owned and operated
by corporates that have a lot of money and tourism interest in their
areas. Hidden away in the Southern Alps of New Zealand you'll
occasionally find another type of field, the ski club fields. These
are small, sometimes family run businesses that have not got large
developed infrastructure or even good access roads, but they are what
New Zealand skiers like and love. On busy days you'll find even these
small fields won't have a lot going on. Craigieburn is somewhat
famous from what I have heard. Our neighbour and work college, Luke,
mentioned that he even heard stories about that club field as far as
Canada. A quick video look on YouTube found some people saying it can
be the poor man's heli-skiing. So being only a few kilometres from
Porters we had to check it out at some point.
The day Mark and me
picked to go was probably the worst day for weather, but it was the
only day we had and we took it. Driving there we passed the Porters
turn of and carried on through Castle Hill, a village rather popular
with climbers due to the boulders placed around the area by glaciers
that have now receded. Even to a non climber like me it still looked
like one of those typical New Zealand pictures and I'll have to get
back there with my camera some time in the next few months.
After passing the club
fields of Cheeseman and Broken River we turned of at Craigieburn and
took a drive up through the native forest underneath the club field.
Something nearly all ski areas in New Zealand miss is forests. Not
that this is necessary a bad thing, but my personal taste rather
enjoys trees and woodlands to go down through. Most likely a
preference from my years growing up in Nesselwang.
After leaving the car
in it's designated place near a shed with a generator running for the
accommodations and a tractor with a snow plough parked out the front,
Mark and me went to get our tickets (at a slight discount due to
working on another field) and then returned with our gear, all set
and ready to go. The next stage at Craigieburn was to work out how
rope tows work. Rope tows are the lifts most club fields use, they
are cheaper to operate than T-bars and Chairlifts, but it requires
more skill on side of the customer to use. Both of us were Newbies in
that area, so we had a ski patrol/instructor show us how things are
done. I won't explain the full workings behind the rope tows, as you
can most likely find videos on the internet showing what they are. To
round things up, it took me three tries to get going, but the
experience of being challenged by a new lift after skiing for twenty
years was refreshing.
Finishing the lifts
both of us where buffed by winds blowing through the rocky spires of
the top, all alone on the ski field. Talking to the ski patrol lower
down, we had found out that at that point we were the only people on
the mountain, apart from staff. The first run down promised to be an
interesting day, as the conditions were so bad and challenging that
it was funny. Heavy snow that barely let you turn, an unknown ski
terrain, strong and gusty winds and an ever changing weather pattern
(sun, cloud, rain, fog, snow, etc. We had it all) ensured that the
day was an interesting one. The stops in the upper lodge of the
mountain were a must and a nice dry spot to get ready for another
excursion out in the elements. Over the day we were joined by a few
other people, but all in all the total amount of customers on the
mountain could be counted on two hands. Later on in the day, after
skiing through chutes and staying just above the rocks buried in the
snow, conditions got even more interesting. The top 50 metres were
awesome skiing, underneath that line the fall of heavy snow ensured
that the slope turned to glue, stopping even the most die hard
attempts at picking up speed downhill. Still, everyone was laughing
and having a great time. Mark torpedoed the snow at one point and
later on in the day we got close to being blown of the top. We didn't
manage to walk where we intended to go, but waited things out, as the
wind was so strong we could not go against it.
Once the late afternoon
pulled in we called it quits, with a long last run down a chute on
the side of the mountain to get us down back to the car. Whilst
returning our gear we also had a quick drink at the bar and talked to
some of the employees there. Most where Canadian and American,
something which is in stark contrast to Australia. Most Northern
Americans seem to prefer New Zealand (similar climate?).
After a drink it was
back home to get all our gear dried out for work again, but I could
feel the onset of a flue getting to me.
