Tag Archive for: Dave Chambers

Dave Chambers

Look Ahead: Report From Australia

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The Virus Is Contained, Resorts Anticipate Regular Openings.

Mt Hotham in mid-season. This year, the resort awaits eager visitors after closing in 2020.

We, the skiing public here in Oz, are quietly excited about the prospect of finally skiing again after a year off. While we wait for government decisions and confirm opening dates at Mt Hotham, Falls Creek and Mt Buller here in Victoria and similarly for the resorts in NSW at Perisher and Thredbo. There is a very good indication that with virus levels in Australia at zero the official opening date of Friday June 11 will happen. The ski resorts are all hiring this year.

Opening, that is, except for only a couple of people in quarantine.  There are no cases in the general community. Yes, you read that correctly. Through management (and I use the term loosely), Australia, with a little diligence, has reduced Corvid to literally just a few cases. So, our various state governments figured out, finally, that hotels and strict quarantine for returning travelers has stemmed the transmission.

Contrast this with 2020, and the disaster that unfolded then for the ski industry. By July 9, 2020, it was confirmed that two popular Victorian ski resorts had closed effective immediately due to the corvid virus in the state. They made the difficult decision to suspend operations at Mt Hotham and Falls Creek, “effective Thursday July 9 through to at least August 19,” Vail Resorts, the US company which owns the ski fields, stated. NSW followed quickly with the same decision.

Perisher in NSW is the largest ski resort in the Southern Hemisphere, opening in mid-June

We were in a bad space last year after devastating wildfires in January and February and yet the announcement about the then coming season was all rosy. “Mt Hotham welcomes the State Government’s announcement that the 2020 snow season can commence with a delayed start in late June, just in time for the Victorian school holidays.” said an official. Further adding, “Mt Hotham has experienced some fantastic early snowfalls, so we’ve been eagerly awaiting news on whether the winter 2020 season would proceed,” said Amber Gardner, CEO, Mt Hotham Alpine Resort Management Board. “We are excited about the Premier’s announcement yesterday and look forward to celebrating the season opening with our mountain community at the end of June.”

The excitement continued. Queen’s Birthday Long Weekend traditionally marks the start of the snow season in Australia, but last year it was to be a low-key affair, as Mt Hotham continued to plan for scaling-up in June in accordance with Victorian public health guidelines. The usual explainer of carrying snow chains, resort entry fees, etc. was also confirmed. During this period, the ski field would be closed to downhill skiing and snowboarding. But the resort’s cross-country trails will be open in alignment with recreational trails around Victoria, albeit under a reduced grooming regime and with limited Ski Patrol support. A limited intra-village transport service would also be available. And yes, Mt Hotham board spokesman said staff had been inundated with calls. “Please keep in mind that our staff may not be in a position to immediately answer your questions,” he said.

Here’s an interesting fact about the extent of the snow area in Australia in winter, a fact I find hard to comprehend: Australia has more snow than Switzerland. And, according to the Australian Ski Areas Association (ASAA), ski resort visits in Victoria had a $1,076 million impact on gross state product in 2018. So, you can understand how devastating another closure will have on this industry in 2021. A spokesman stated that, “People in the mountains and surrounds in Victoria continue to progress programmed summer projects ready to greet their first guests this the coming 2021 Winter.”

We wait. I am quietly confident that an opening will happen. We are seeing larger groups allowed with some isolating for crowds at sporting events still. But with vaccinations ramping up across all the states, confidence may be restored. Could I be sliding down a snow-covered slope at my favorite ski hill soon? Since skiing in Canada last year in January and February, I am yet to put on the planks. A La Nina has visited us in the Pacific and unusually large rain events have occurred across the Eastern States. But we are long in the knowledge that rain alone will not increase the snow levels. It maybe cold and wet, but I will be happy enough to just be amongst the snow guns again, real snow or not.

Mt.Hotham before the virus closed her down. Credit: Dave Chambers

Dave Chambers

Ski Japan: Happy Appi Kogen

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Untracked Deep Powder For A Week.

Appi Kogen is a self-contained resort in northern Honshu.

Casting aside the duvet and, with a flourish, we spread the curtains wide to greet a new day, a new location, a place of considerable legend.

Here the tall Japanese Black Pines punctuate the landscape between the tall buildings of our hotel in this place almost three quarters of the way up the island of Honshu.

Appi Kogen is one of Japan’s best ski resorts. The resort’s tagline: “Be Happy in Appi”, of course.

We have arrived by road to Appi Kogen, almost taking a whole day to do so. This road trip was tedious, attributed to a slow traffic jam and, paradoxically, the most exciting bus trip we could ever conceive.  Our bus driver, growing weary and ever more frustrated by the constant traffic jam, decided a different route was needed. The existence of a little used forest track was discovered—a forest track at times covered in deep virgin powder snow.

Our driver revealed quite a level of skill when required to navigate slippery and often poorly delineated tracks through the forest. Our driver and his co-driver were engaged in constant discussion as to how to proceed when fast acceleration was required. It was best alpine driving we are ever likely to witness. Although I well remember being in a taxi going up a hill from St. Anton to Lech in Austria where our driver exclaimed in strong language his scorn for the slippery steep slope and the driver of a Mercedes that halted his progress. Then, sliding backwards down a considerable slope completely at ease with his dilemma, he just reversed to a lower slope where he could gain some traction and move forward back up the steep narrow slope.

Back to Japan. Our trip, a long, long ten-hour drive by bus, one we hired  at Lodge Scolé at Zao Onsen Ski Resort to take us to Appi Kogen. Zao was a place of big tree runs and Snow Monsters. Traveling plans were adjusted for what we thought would be just a four-hour trip up the main island of Honshu.

A huge snowstorm of cold air from across the Sea of Japan unloaded across the north.  Our movement down the road now so slow at one point we left the bus to obey a nature call at a rest stop. We visited said rest stop and purchased takeaway lunch before returning to find the bus only 80 meters further down the road.

Appi Kogen is not far from the East Coast where those winter winds suck up the moisture from Sea of Japan and dump when they hit the land mass around Appi. Indeed this is often the case along the whole coastline particularly in the North where we are now.

It is another skiing day, a day not quite like we have experienced before above the snow line. Although I recall a day in Lech where we skied in snow so deep the only reveal of me deep in this fine dry powder is the top of my ski helmet.

Appi Kogen is very similar to this as is much of Japan in winter where it will often snow down to the beach and cover the sand.

Light fog at the top of the gondola leads to fields of deep powder.

After a couple of runs down medium steep slopes on the front side, we decide to venture as far out as we can to the most outer edge of the ski resort. We are at the topmost point on a black run now with powder so deep and almost un-skied, the day still early. We set an easy pace to get some rhythm in to our legs and balance in the fine powder. The visibility is ok but a little foggy. Japan is like this in winter because the cold is only -2 C (28 F) or at most -8 C (18 F), this knowledge gathered over many previous visits.

As we proceed down the slope, it is obvious the area has not been skied today or even possibly this last week. The slope is lined with trees mostly beech, so definition of the journey down is easy in the slight fog. As we near the end of this trail, the skiing gets flatter and, after 900 meters, we arrive at the gondola. It will surprise you to discover we skied all day down that one slope in fresh powder. Would you be further surprised to learn we skied that same slope for a whole week with no change to the perfect powder? Well, it amazed us to discover that many Japanese don’t like ungroomed snow. When you learn to ski in Australia. the quality of snow is mostly hard pack ice. There, the day temperature around -1C  (30 F) to 1C (34 F) and then freezing overnight: result, ice. So we are very lucky in Oz if we ever experience powder. At Appi Kogen, we have never experienced such perfect conditions for skiing for one whole week .

Be adventurous if you dare. Take a trip soon you will find the country very rewarding in so many ways.

Appi K: 70 percent of runs are intermediate or “easy”.

For a more extensive report in Appi Kogen, click here.

Dave Chambers

Obsessing Over Gelati In Milano

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After Your Ski Trip, Do This, Especially When In Italy.

Duomo di Milano where we indulged in our initial Gelati. Credit: Medium.com

It is the 8th March 2013, the day is cool but sunny. It is still winter here in Milano, Italy. Food and Italians go together like toast and marmalade on Isle of Wight. The clever people that they are they gathered the recipe from Marco Polo and created ice cream. Gelati to the Italians, and not simply ice cream as we know it.

We have skied some legendary powder. Morzine, Avoriaz, Courmayeur, and the slopes of high Switzerland. Now all behind us. The mishap that was Marg’s on the slopes of Morzine Ski Resort where her hip parted company with her femur. It’s done and sorted. She by now languishing in a hospital back in Australia. Ahead of her months and months of exercises by physical therapists. Our remaining group of skiing tourists head to downtown Milano for some creature comforts and good European hot chocolate and to search for that legendary Gelati.

Forget your bucket list, it’s so yesterday; just visit Italy. Don’t dally, this place is cool. Built by people that know a thing or two about how to construct a medieval village. It has everything you never realized you needed. But now know where your life experiences can be fulfilled.

In Italy, they have Gelati; it’s everywhere. In Italy, it helps to be passionate and quite obsessive about food. You fit the culture better. The medieval diet is a thing. The food here makes your heart sing. I am a man of simple taste, I like a Lou Reed riff, Italian Gelati, fresh snow, Uva di Troia, blue sky, powder snow, porcini mushrooms, wasabi pear paste, Nutella Pizza, Italian hot chocolate, and cats. Italy has nine out of the above, that’s plenty to make a trip of a lifetime.

Tack it on to the end or start of your next skiing trip.

Anyhow, Gelati is our focus. We decided, as you do in Italy, to search for that Zen moment. Or nirvana when food passes your lips and mere seconds later you are taken to another place.

Gelati in the presence of Il Duomo di Milano. Perfect. Credit: Dave Chambers.

Day One Milano. We sit in the hugely dominating presence of the massive cathedral that almost blankets the whole square. The Duomo di Milano, 600 years and still standing, all 135 gargoyles of it. Seated at an open-air restaurant, we eat yet another excellent pasta. Porcini mushrooms grow wild in the forest here. Collected from the forest and scattered with a slip of black truffle across a fresh house made pasta. Simple yet sublime. Accompanied by a very good Montepulciano.

The conversation turns to Gelati, and, I kid you not, within twenty quick paces we find a purveyor of fine Gelati . We ordered enough scoops to satisfy a platoon.  All your typical flavors. Our excitement was rewarded with explosions of flavor.

Could it get better than this. We didn’t think so.

Day Two. Now down to just two of us, the other tourists having skipped and flown home. We are just getting a feel for Italian lifestyle. Our concentration heightened now we are tuned in to the local food scene. Feeling switched on. We trawl through the piazzas. We circle and wander the streets looking for shops that mysteriously stay hidden for almost two hours looking for snow wear retail stuff. My mate has a tired ski jacket in need of replacement. Suddenly we blunder upon the old bohemian quarter, exclusive and designer expensive. The luxury within these narrowed walkways is revealed. By chance or divine intervention, our next serve of designer Gelati is nigh. Imagine Mango, so smooth, the deepest orange in color and very glossy with smooth mouthfeel. This mango Gelati has the most intense sweet flavor and equal first place to yesterday’s I decide. Sacrilegious, I know, but folded within a wispy thin, crepe.

Simply the best: cioccolata italiana milano.

Last day. We lunch under the brooding gargoyles of the Duomo di Milano, now grey with mist and rain.  Within our shallow bowl, pasta. The waitress recommends a very fine local red wine. I ask her about Gelati. “Oh yes,” she says encouragingly, “You should visit Cioccolata Italiana,” further adding, “It is the best in Milano.” We are excited. I demand four flavors.  It’s a bucket but a small one. Of flavors chosen, I can’t remember because my tastebuds had hard wired to my brain. Endorphins now in overdrive. The Cioccolata Italiana Chocolate conjured angels. Those angels started dancing on my tongue, the intensity of chocolate, the smoothness as it melted around your taste buds, all balanced with a not too sweet finish, a deep dark chocolate that lingered long after the first taste. The heavens had opened just then for a tiny glimpse of ice cream nirvana. This is not just any Gelati, this is alchemy for the tastebuds and simple the best Gelati I have ever experienced. The ancient Romans may have brought you the amphitheatre, sewers, and concrete, but I am thanking them for their wonderful Gelati and the Medicis for Marco Polo.

Chocolate, please. Credit: Dave Chambers

 

Dave Chambers

Marg’s Morzine Mishap

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Poor Marg. She Becomes A Poster Person For Travel Insurance.

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When I think back over the last two decades, our group of skiing fanatics have been largely injury free. We are a large group of friends comprised of both Australian and British skiers. But there was Morzine.

The Apartment is in the heart of Morzine.

Today our first day skiing, we vacate our Appartment Telepherique in Morzine, France. Our accommodation here in 2013 is a luxury condo with huge post card views over snow covered mountains. Our group of six skiers alight from the Telepherique Tramway. The day is a glorious blue with wisps of low thin cloud dispersed amongst the pines. As the sun rises this mist burns away as we exit the Tramway. The snow is firm pack with a centimetre or two of fresh on top.

Suddenly our day goes pear shaped within 100 metres of the tramway on a gentle slope.

Yes, there was an accident and when I say words like hip and femur, it sounds like it could be serious. It is. Our skiing friend Marg in fact has had a slight altercation with some hard packed powder. Not more than a couple of minutes from the door of the Tramway exit. She has rearranged the bones in her upper leg or hip or thereabouts. And this on her very first day skiing of our trip here in Morzine, Avoriaz, Portes du Soleil, France. In fact, her very first run right off the Tramway.

Marg is transferred to helo. First run of 30-day ski vacation in the Alps. Credit: Dave Chambers

We have hired a rental car and are now underway to a hospital on the shore of Lake Geneva (which in fact is called Lake Leman) in a town called Thonon. We have decided that our very good skiing friend Marg,who  has been at the mercy of the staff for a couple of days now at Hopitaux Du Lemans, Thonon Les Bains, France, needs some cheer and mirth in the hopitaux as they call it.

No more skiing for the entire trip for poor Marg. An otherwise for us, normal ski trip, covering three countries, France, Italy, and Switzerland. Skiing for a touch over 30 days at Morzine, Les Gets, Avoriaz, Champery, Courmayer, Monte Bianco, Valle Blanche, La Thuile, La Rosiere, Champoluc, Alagna, Gressoney La Trinite, Frachey and Gressoney Saint Jean. Skiing all without Marg.

Insurance is expensive when traveling, that’s for sure. But one day that policy and your insurance representative will be among your best friends. Poor Marg required attention by five ski rescue persons and a helicopter, no less. Experts all, they very carefully bundled her up, administered some drugs and whisked her away to said hospital. Never has a girl had so much male attention. She later reflected on enjoying this and some of the best drugs for her rehabilitation.

We joke about this in her private room and generally try to cheer her up. Also there is considerable discussion as to the right angle or such of the pins and what pins are where and, well a girl can never have too much jewelry, but in this case it is medical grade stainless steel. “It’s just such a shame you can’t show it off and jiggle it around,” says Marg.

The result of all this activity, unfortunately, has demanded her complete repatriation back to Oz and her vigorous removal from Morzine by that new best friend: the Insurance Company!

But seriously we are sad to see her go, and a large portion of our day is now vacant without Marg. She is now a guest of said insurance company and a very exclusive guest she is. Having an invoice that now includes a lift by helicopter and a First Class flight all the way back to Australia for her and her new best friend, her nurse. Sometimes insurance companies are your friend indeed.

 

Dave Chambers

An Odyssey Between US And Canada

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Our Traveling Australian Skier Recalls Characters, Odd Places, And Skiing In The US/Canadian West.

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Beautiful downtown Curlew, WA, a ghost town stop on the way to BC.

Have you been to Curlew, WA? We try several routes in an attempt to exit the USA, having already skied at Schweitzer Ski Resort. When I say skied, I use the term advisedly. Due to lack of snow, most of the ski hill is closed. But now we are still in the wild vacant Northwest back woods.. The landscape is quite depleted of signs. You wouldn’t think it would be that difficult to get back into Canada. I mean, the border, is 5,000 miles long.

The Curlew Saloon on Main Street

While pursuing a route, we chance upon the town of Curlew. I say town, it was once a town now a ghost town more than any ghost could conceive. I walked casually, quietly, through the door of the Curlew Saloon. I notice the licensee, silver hair, beau-fount style, piled high on her head, like Dolly Parton but raggedy eyed. A patron, her worn body reflecting all of her ninety years affected by smoke and booze. She eyed me, a stranger, with a leery eye. A stranger is noticed here.

Curlew Saloon is a taxidermist’s showcase. Credit: Dave Chambers

Ahead of me, launching out of the ceiling, a Cougar, within its snarly jaws, sharp and yellowed teeth. Further in a delicate patterned rattlesnake skin now devoid of its body is flattened against the weathered timber wall. The scene is old, faded and dreary. Several skulls and horns decorate. No one really engages with a stranger here. Two of three other occupants whisper in the quiet space. One a city slicker wants to move to a quieter town. Maybe he could move to this old gold mining town, its heyday long now a memory. I say g’day to the cowboy in the big hat. With an efficiency of movement, a vacant stare, he leans forward and barely nods a response.

The short wide Main Street looks like a western set in an old Hollywood back lot. The rear of which is littered with the ruins and detritus of the last century. Old cars, a fire truck still equipped with ladders on the side sits on flat tires adding more junk to the back streets. Part of the scene is the General Store in Curlew near the hotel on the main street. It fits in to this worn landscape, dilapidated and tired. The owner here also of advanced age sells items almost equal to her age. Brand new cassettes all covered in dust lie waiting for purchase. Century old posters decorate the splintered paintwork. It’s now a forgotten town Curlew, with history slowly seeping out of the old grey wooden buildings, like sand through an hourglass.

We leave Curlew, head north, and exit America. Apex, Penticton, BC is a ski town inside the Canadian border in the Okanagan region.  On this occasion, we find the border guards are Canadian. Almost like magic, the landscape changes to fields and hills laden with snow.

Apex resort, a hidden gem in British Columbia

Our disposition is much improved with a few new snowflakes drifting in the occasional sunshine. Here at Apex where the vertical is surprisingly anything but the average height for a Canadian Resort, we learned, that Apex is still two hundred feet higher than Whistler.

We are greeted in the morning by wafting light snow drifting down between the large fir trees. Lovely. Our mountain host, Dale, likes Aussies, he says. Doesn’t everybody. Took us on a tour and regaled us with stories of his son and daughter and a guy named Fred Smith, an Aussie, rich, says Dale, but lives in an old camper van near the resort for the season.

Somewhat of a legend is Fred. He took his chainsaw to the firs in a steep gully here at Apex and cut his own tree glade. The management of the mountain, when they found out, were not pleased but eventually consented and included it within the ski boundary. Over our only two days at Apex we have three mountain hosts. Russill with an I, Dale with an A and Fred with an E. Dale is a character and is referred to by the local skiers as the Apex CEO.

Cruising all day down blacks that are really blue runs, we had a great time with Dale. The next day we had Fred with an E and in the afternoon Russill with an I.

Don’t tell anybody but Apex is a secret waiting to explode. Russill with an I, seemed quite excited when Ray and I suggested a shoot down the back runs over at Wildside. Double Blacks and Impossible Blacks abound. There almost seems no way down. Russill with an I said he couldn’t ski down there. He is an excellent skier in my estimation. And now Whistler beckons but the snow reports are quite ordinary. We are not surprised at this a strange season indeed. But off we go.

Apex Resort is several hundred feet higher than Whistler.