Mountain cold cure

 

 Mountain Cold Cure

The weeks skiing started with a stinking cold, up at 3, drive to airport, fly, coach, apartment, eat, bed for a 12 hour sleep with weird dreams due to a temperature. Next morning so much better, I had bought every drug known to relieve the cold and had taken most of them to get me through the journey and make me sleep.

Very cold mountains and snow along with the medication is the best cold cure known. Took the first day steadily, easy reds are good. Sorted me out for the weeks skiing. The next few days were a mixture of ski school under the direction of the excellent Andreina and afternoons with Lindsey, Neil and Maria from ski school trying not to get lost in white out seeking out the lesser used reds and blacks.

 Decided to take a red run to the valley floor, narrow, steep and tree lined, it was difficult last year so let's see if I am better. On the way down I glanced behind and saw Lindsey cart wheeling down the slope, I let out a woohoo to celebrate the spectacular display of gymnastics. Then after a few moments thought I had better take my skis off to go help. She was fine, just hit a steep bit of ice. Lindsey then proceeded to out ski me on steep reds off of the top of the mountain for the rest of the afternoon. Later in the week had an early morning ski on this run. Wonderful snow, ice encrusted trees and a misty blue sky.

 So black runs, the one that is going to be used for the women's down hill World Cup next year has to be skied. First time round missed out the the two steepest sections, second time round Maria, Neil and I dared each other to do the steepest section and then for the final part where the jump will be Maria went straight for it, Neil uttered a profanity and I followed completing the whole run. However my time was no where near getting in the Great Britain team ignoring the fact of being male.  We continued to egg each other on with other black runs, some completed with more style, some completed slightly too fast and slightly out of control. Good to know that people in their 40s and 50s are able to behave in this way. Am pleased with my blacks this year, not so scary.

 Skiing in mountain weather is a challenge, winds, blowing snow, very cold and white outs. Thick snow in France is good for taking you out. White outs in Italy mean you have no idea where you are, which is up and down and if you are moving or not. Just aim at something and go seems a reasonable response to the conditions. This all makes for a great experience.

 

Final days are always helped by brilliant weather and a trip across the mountains to France with fine views of the Grand Jorasses with the Dent de Géant stabbing into the sky line and the huge bulk of Mont Blanc dominating from above. The return trip finished with a black red and blue hue, tears streaming from my eyes with the cold and speed. Then a final flourish with a black all the way to the village crowned by spinning out on some ice on a particularly steep section. Another excellent week of mountains, snow, bowls of pasta and wine. Can't get much better than that.

 

 

 On the way home I stare out of the aircraft window at the snow covered peaks. I remember doing the same as a young boy going on holiday with my parents. I thought they were fantastic then, I still do.