13 Attachment(s)
Suppose they gave a Euro BBI and nobody came. A last year's TR
Yeah, this is late. Really, really late. Later in fact than my last long winded TR, which was probably posted 6 months after the fact. So shoot me. Just kidding gun nuts, please do nothing of the sort. Please.
So I know there is much stoke now building about Euro BBI 24 and I also know that I promised some photos regarding last years affair oh so many months ago. I just got busy. So I edited a few photos here, cropped a couple there, made some commentary in very small amounts (a few times a week) all leading to this happy day when I finally got it done. By no means will I suggest that Tri-ungulate or Carve-hard are "nobody". Eu contraire mon frere, a finer duo to slay pow with could not be found anywhere I suggest. No waiting required, good discourse regarding run and/or resort selection daily and super fun guys to apres with (along with the ungulate's wife). I am a little sad that my phone stayed in my pocket for much of the trip however I take way to many photos as it is, so there's that. Oh, and another thing - Vendul is a fucking gem (so is his wife), and deserves a very solid round of applause for not being pissed off in any detectable way that 3 people showed up at his lodge instead of 30. This place is magic, and until you stay at his lodge and ski the area around his zone, you just don't understand.
Also, I have decided to tack on my later trip to Arolla (where I was super super pleased to make the acquaintance of Subtle Plague, his wife and his family). Subtle was such a legit skier and mag, and was honored to be able to ski a run with him that he deemed best of the season. Fair warning, I also threw down a shit ton of other skiing with my mates at Arolla, and I would suggest (and I've done this before), that adventurous ski touring mags should hit up this place. The lines are obvious and as long as you've some semblance of avi awareness/snowcraft/can read a bulletin, you won't likely die. Well, there anyway. You're all going to die. Sorry.
So without further months of ado...
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I decided to overnight in TO on the way to Yurp, and spend a day walking around the center of the universe (according to its inhabitants). It was a good idea. A pint in the oldest bar in Toronto. Pouring booze since 1833 (don't laugh Euros).
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Cool “old” building. Thanks for dying for us, past generations. Thanks for allowing us the freedom we enjoy.
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I wish there were more streets in TO that looked like this.
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Had a recommendation from a T.O. friend to hit this bar for the jazz. Solid rec! These boys ripped it up for a little late afternoon sesh. Check out the Rex if you’re in Toronto and need a jazz fix. My friend also suggested that their open mike/jam sessions are amazing and all the heavy hitters of the scene play there at one time or another.
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How better to complete my TO walking tour day than to hit up a yuk yuk show. I was walking back from the jazz show and for shits and giggles thought I’d google the Yuk Yuk theatre address. Damned if I wasn’t 100m away. Show time coincided perfectly (10 minutes to spare). Great show with about 10 comics each given 10 minutes to slay us. Great show, much side splitting material.
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The phallic needle, lit up in electric blue. Just like the electro-glide I’d get if I liked Harleys.
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Toronto hotel sink laundry service was excellent.
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Finally (you are probably thinking to yourself), I arrive at Vendul's!!!
This was one of his rooms. Exce-fucking-lent. The trip from TO to Amsterdam was eventful in that a mechanical delayed the flight such that I missed my connection to Lucerne through Frankfurt. However the helpful lassies at Swissair got me a flight right to Lucerne. That’s when the trouble started.
I should have just stayed a night in Amsterdam and waited for my baggage to catch up. But no, I believed them when they said “my baggage will make it easily the next morning". Nope. I wanted to get to Vendul’s damn it, and would not be denied another day. So, I get to Lucerne and later to Vendul’s at about midnight. Luckily catching the last bus by mere minutes to Rueras from Disentis (missing the last train by mere hours).
I Stepped into a bar that was a throw back to legit ski bars everywhere. Populated by athletic, snow sliding, happy folk. My kind of people. Got to meet some wonderful people and drink some of Sabrina’s elixir of happiness. Made with love, artisanal and small batch. Yum!
Although I had arrived at my destination missing some of my ski stuff (skis, poles, probe), I had arrived. Thanks to Buster’s carry-on baggage tips, I did have the basics – boots and some gear made it. I can ski.
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Breakfast at Vendul’s. You don’t like this? You’re weird.
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The snow sitch when I got there. “OK”. I figure “there will be snow up high” (says ever the eternal fucking optimist). Vendul suggested taking the train to Andermatt and skiing back to Rueras. Good plan. A couple of small items made it much more challenging than estimated.
1) I hadn’t skied on a ski smaller than 180cms for perhaps 30 years.
2) I hadn’t skied on a ski narrower than 90mm for perhaps 20 years.
3) The photo shows weather up high deteriorating. It did. Complete whiteout all day, but it WAS snowing. Hard. So there’s that.
I lucked out and met an international couple (US and Swedish). And, for the love of christ – me and the Swede have a mutual acquaintance in one Mattias Fredrickson. Small bloody ski world indeed. The Swede ripped and his GF was an intermediate so it was a perfect pairing for me skiing on my death sticks on frozen icy groomers in a white out. While I do thank Vendul for stepping up and getting me some sticks to use, it felt like my 3rd day on skis. “It’s OK”, I figure. “My skis will be there any day”.
The other side of me is thinking, perhaps all of those light weights were right. Perhaps skipping the hallowed BBI Euro 23 trip was the wise thing. The “right” thing. The “logical” thing. Giving up was fine. Was BBI Euro 23 indeed over?
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Nah, yeah, nah. Giving up is never the thing to do. It’s never over until you say it out loud. Was it over when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbour?
It puked all night. ULLR was pleased with me after all. He was pleased with the two hardy maggots who showed. Tri-ungulate and 70 post Jong, Carve-hard. It’s a summit!
Yes, small (better to stealthily poach pow, better to yo-yo fresh lines without sharing, never to wait for fallen comrades) because there ain’t any of you fuckers. Thanks for not coming. Fuck we had fun, and the skiing was sublime. It may have been a mini, but god damn it we were a maxi-mini.
One did have to ski lightly getting to valley bottom. Luckily 2 inches on grass is fine if you don’t turn. Gravel road needed 3 inches however, and we mostly had that. Most importantly we could ski from the train stop to Vendul’s door. Enough of the drivel. We went skiing.
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Suppose they gave a Euro BBI and nobody came. A last year's TR
