We awoke at 6:30 a.m., a surprising time considering the other night we went to bed at 5:30 a.m. A bucket of Piscola will do that to you. We dressed, making quick cups of tea, and checking the battery life of our beacons. We scrambled, but were out the door by 7 a.m. Powder skiing will do that to you.
La Parva's poma lifts were running early, a treat for the Eye of the Condor contestants looking to score fresh snow before the crowds made their way up 40 deadly curves from Santiago. Stray dogs ran the lift
line. The event staff was in on the fun too. Mike Reff, Griffin Post, and I road the multiple lifts to the top. It was still dark. At the top, the massive amount of terrain revealed itself. And no one was
around. From there, hahahahaha…
Seriously, hahahahaha. We were stupified with myriad options at our disposal. While the film crews camped out at picturesque powder turn locations, we skied thousands (yes, thousands) of vertical feet on open powder fields all before 11 a.m. The snow was light with a touch of cream; the kind that flies in the air yet still sticks to the rocks. We aired wind lips, skied flat, lame (and safe) powder fast, and didn't stop. All the while, the orange crept into the Andes until the sun soaked the slopes with light.
"All time," said Griffin Post this evening before yet another party. "It was like heli skiing. It's so rare when you get a whole resort to yourself and no one is there. It was f!@#*& ridiculous. And I made a new dog friend too. I wanted to bring him home. It might have been the best morning skiing session I've ever had."