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Friday, December 30, 2011

Day 21 - FR

Cookie says...
We woke to find the outside world white. In Cam McKellar's words, it had puked all night. The girls had arranged to meet Georges-Alan at Les Houches so I was happy to check it out while Pilty piked. It would be interesting to see how we all go. The girls went for the lesson and Georges-Alan sent me down a run full of fresh powder and devoid of people. Those that I did see where skiers and I found out why - the return was the worlds longest pommel lift.

The weather was pretty ordinary even if it gave the best conditions to ride. I managed to come across the girls half way down a blue run which heads to where we started, so I joined them for the last 30 mins of their lesson.


Julie says...
Today I skied through a blizzard on my way down a rather large mountain. On multiple occasions, I gaped at Georges-Alan with a "you want me to ski down there..?" look.


But, after 3 hours of thigh-burning "skiing" down the runs (I'm sure those around us would question whether we were actually skiing... maybe surviving was a better description), I felt awesome when I made it to the bottom. If could purchase a new pair of thigh muscles at the ski lift, I so would have done it all again!


Sarah says...
Everything hurts. The End.

Pilty says...
I'm not sure if I'd class today as a successful day or an unsuccessful day. While the others went off to conquer some slope a bit further down the road, I set off to reach the summit of Aiguille du Midi. I was really looking forward to experiencing temps of between -18°C and -20°C and winds between 60kmh and 100kmh, but alas for me, the cable car that takes people to the peak at 3842m was closed for the day

On the other hand, I enjoyed walking around while it was snowing heavily, making snowballs (although no one wanted to have a war with me), built a snow man and even made (or is it became?) a snow angel. It's amazing how soft and dry snow is here.


Bronwen says...
Les Houches, you had your butt kicked by B. Pyle, J. Cook and a little bit by S. Pyle. After a blizzard, the world's longest pummel ride, a red run and a couple of spectacular dives into mounds of fresh powder (with a group of French girls shouting down from the chair lift to see if I was ok...granted I was lying in a pool of snow, looking a bit dead but laughing so hard I couldn't get up), we hit the final slope back into the village. I had a feeling of exhilaration as we had made it all the way down the front of the mountain...a fist pump like I had just won a medal at the Olympics...even despite Georges-Alan telling me that I looked like a skiing chicken on the last slope. We are Georges-Alan's skiing angels!!!

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