I’m back and this time I’m ready. I have a sleeping bag & a guaranteed bed to rest on during the night. No sleeping on wooden benches this time. This past weekend, I decided to return to Temple Basin after being absent for over a month. Perhaps the place has changed? Not a lot of club members travelled with the club this weekend. I suppose everyone else was too busy with assignments.
The drive to Arthur’s Pass was deja vu: the pristine, exquisite, natural landscape passing by our rented Soviet looking truck. Not a rain cloud in sight. We arrived at the Good’s Lift in just under a two hour drive and tossed in our winter gear. Everyone’s belongings have it easy because they don’t have to tramp up the mountain.
Back for more, the mountain asks.
‘Last time I checked, the score was one for me and zero for you.’
Oh yeah, the mountain concedes.
The tramp went faster than I expected, making it to the summit in 50 minutes. Two for me, zero for the mountain. It took over an hour the first time and the place hasn’t changed. First time . . . oh yeah, I forgot to mention that Temple Basin is the place where I skied outside of Canada for the first time. I still think the place should install a customer gondola but the staff doesn’t want to compete with the big business resorts.
This time I 'immortalized' myself with a catchphrase when our belongings were being offloaded from the Goods Lift. "No! Don't break my rum!"
The weather was much warmer than last time and it felt like spring at such a high altitude. The snow was slushy but still serviceable even though your skis sink in some areas. The easy hills had to be closed because they were turning into a pool.
The sounds of flying Kea birds echo in all directions. These alpine birds are very curious of humans and don’t mind getting close but don’t let them get too close or else they’ll start picking at your clothes looking for food.
After I rented out my skiing gear, I took to the slopes for several hours. The place was desolate of customers. Lunch was a buffet consisting of lamb, salad, pizza, beef, and fruit. The hired cook really knows how to prepare good food.
More skiing followed after lunch and I tumbled several times because the slushy snow made my skis slow down whereas my body kept going . . . into the snow. No need to worry, I’m fine.
As for the party during the night, all the club members drank, listened to music and played several drinking games. I just watched because my tolerance isn’t that high.
Same old skiing the next morning except clouds were moving in from below. When we descended the mountain into the clouds, it was cold and wet. The night had already settled when we began driving back to Christchurch. A bright full moon in the clear sky illuminated the highway roads and surrounding mountains. The dark scenery left me awe-struck, wanting me to tramp to the top of all the mountains. Luckily, it wasn’t raining in Christchurch when we arrived.
Overall, my trip to Temple Basin turned out to be quite pleasant. In just two days, I was able to ski a total of 24 runs down the mountain. I don’t think I’ll be able to go again before the season finishes, so I’ll have to wait until after summer. There were only two minor annoyances: Kea birds had picked several pieces out of my mattress (guess it was tasty) and my nose bled during the descent. Medically, I was always the black sheep of the family.
The drive to Arthur’s Pass was deja vu: the pristine, exquisite, natural landscape passing by our rented Soviet looking truck. Not a rain cloud in sight. We arrived at the Good’s Lift in just under a two hour drive and tossed in our winter gear. Everyone’s belongings have it easy because they don’t have to tramp up the mountain.
Back for more, the mountain asks.
‘Last time I checked, the score was one for me and zero for you.’
Oh yeah, the mountain concedes.
The tramp went faster than I expected, making it to the summit in 50 minutes. Two for me, zero for the mountain. It took over an hour the first time and the place hasn’t changed. First time . . . oh yeah, I forgot to mention that Temple Basin is the place where I skied outside of Canada for the first time. I still think the place should install a customer gondola but the staff doesn’t want to compete with the big business resorts.This time I 'immortalized' myself with a catchphrase when our belongings were being offloaded from the Goods Lift. "No! Don't break my rum!"
The weather was much warmer than last time and it felt like spring at such a high altitude. The snow was slushy but still serviceable even though your skis sink in some areas. The easy hills had to be closed because they were turning into a pool.
The sounds of flying Kea birds echo in all directions. These alpine birds are very curious of humans and don’t mind getting close but don’t let them get too close or else they’ll start picking at your clothes looking for food.After I rented out my skiing gear, I took to the slopes for several hours. The place was desolate of customers. Lunch was a buffet consisting of lamb, salad, pizza, beef, and fruit. The hired cook really knows how to prepare good food.
More skiing followed after lunch and I tumbled several times because the slushy snow made my skis slow down whereas my body kept going . . . into the snow. No need to worry, I’m fine.As for the party during the night, all the club members drank, listened to music and played several drinking games. I just watched because my tolerance isn’t that high.
Same old skiing the next morning except clouds were moving in from below. When we descended the mountain into the clouds, it was cold and wet. The night had already settled when we began driving back to Christchurch. A bright full moon in the clear sky illuminated the highway roads and surrounding mountains. The dark scenery left me awe-struck, wanting me to tramp to the top of all the mountains. Luckily, it wasn’t raining in Christchurch when we arrived.
Overall, my trip to Temple Basin turned out to be quite pleasant. In just two days, I was able to ski a total of 24 runs down the mountain. I don’t think I’ll be able to go again before the season finishes, so I’ll have to wait until after summer. There were only two minor annoyances: Kea birds had picked several pieces out of my mattress (guess it was tasty) and my nose bled during the descent. Medically, I was always the black sheep of the family.
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