And they're off!

This past weekend I headed off to experience another New Zealand tradition: skiing. A much talked about activity here, I thought it best to sacrifice my quadriceps to this experience. So Friday I headed off with several other members of the Alpine Club to Ohakune, the carrot capital of New Zealand. Situated at the base of Turoa Ski Field on Mt. Ruapehu, it was the ideal location from which to base our skiing excursion.

Arriving early evening on Friday to our accommodation, we were greeted by several other friends who had already gathered for this annual event in the snow. The weather forecast was iffy at best for the weekend, but we were hopeful given the glorious ski conditions that were had Friday by several members of our party, evidenced by their red faces. Tired from the work week, I snuggled into my sleeping bag early. Good thing, considering the wake up knock came bright and early at 6am. By 7am, we were headed out the door. By 7:30 we were parking the car in the second row of the carpark, an all time record arrival for this group. There was barely a worker in sight as we tramped up to the ticket counter, standing in a little huddle, waiting to purchase our ski passes. One benefit of arriving so early, there's absolutely no queue to hire your gear. I filled out my rental card and started down the assembly line of rental equipment. First stop: boots. Asking for a size 9, I soon found my foot swimming inside the boot. I know it'd been awhile since I'd worn a pair of these hard plastic contraptions, but I didn't think my foot had shrunk that much. Noticing my perplexed look, an employee asked what was wrong and quickly deduced that I had asked for a US size, not a UK size. Woops. Overcoming that small hurdle, I managed to make it through the remainder of the rental process without incident.

Meeting up with the rest of the group outside, I realized it was now only 8am. The chairs didn't even start running until 8:30. I didn't dare ask why we'd gotten there so early. A glance at the carpark reassured me we were not the only ones this prompt, as the spaces were nearly full. After one last toilet stop, we clamped on our gear and got in line for the chair. By 8:30 the 3 lines were 10 deep. It seems that everyone arrives early. Slowly the lift lurched to a start and we filed up to the front. This is where it got interesting. There was no employee on duty to guide this process, so it became a free-for-all as courtesy was thrown out the window and people almost shoved their way up to the front. So much for lines. Then, once we made it to the front, we were made to stand behind individual gates, sequentially aligned, that would automatically open once the chair in front had been loaded, allowing us to ski up to get our chair. Each time I loaded the lift I felt like I should bet on which one of us would win, place, or show.

The forecast did not prove to be as beautiful as the day before. While initially sunny, the clouds soon coated the sky, ushered in by a Northwesterly. We managed to get a few runs in on the icy slopes before they decided to put the whole field on hold, shutting down the lifts. So we sat and waited, the general theme for the day. Just as 10 o'clock approached (and they would inevitably have to refund everyone their money for the day), the chair started running again. Unfortunately, it transported us up through worsening wind and snow that rapidly turned to sleet, then rain. I can withstand a lot when it comes to weather, but this was too much. While I had spent $106 to grant me access to this excursion, I soon realized that no amount of money was worth the frostbite that was rapidly setting into my fingers. The rest of the group agreed. By 1:30 we were off the mountain. The rest of the afternoon to be spent in retail therapy. Somehow, I managed to be the only one sacrificing my wallet for the good of the whole.

Sunday we had grand hopes of reliving happier ski experiences, but the weather had other ideas. Unable to see even the base of the mountain, we soon heard on the ski radio station that the field was closed. Packing up our things, we headed home. Oh well, at least I got a new ski jacket out of the experience. Maybe next time I'll actually get to test it.