Valle Nevado - September 2005

Getting to Valle Nevado

As I've come to expect in foreign airports, there were loads of taxi drivers competing for business as I walked out of the terminal. Not speaking any Spanish, it took me a while to communicate, but I finally found someone to drive me from the airport direct to Valle Nevado. As usual when I first fly into a new country, I overpaid for the drive.

At least, I'm pretty sure I overpaid. The driver gave me his business card, and pleaded over and over for me to call him when I needed a ride back into Santiago. He said he didn't mind the 2 hour drive up to get me. That's probably a sign that I paid way too much.

I didn't mind, though. I was tired and disheveled. I just wanted to get to the hotel and shower. Plus, I had bought a *huge* snowboard bag and I was tired of lugging it around. I would have paid any price just to let someone else carry it.

As we left the airport and made our way through Santiago, the driver made several gestures, indicating that the trip up to Valle Nevado was winding and uphill. No problem, I thought. After all, I drive to Whistler all the time, surely this wouldn't be much different?

We got out of downtown, turned a corner, and suddenly we were in the winding foothills of the Andes. Still, the journey wasn't that bad. The road was fine, if narrow.

But at a fork in the road we made a right, heading to Valle Nevado, and suddenly the switchbacks started. I don't mean mild back-and-forths across the mountain, I mean steep switchbacks. It looks like they took a hiking trail, paved it, and hoped cars could get up it.

The sharp turn at each switchback was a bit harrowing (I was in a minibus). There was no concept of lanes, since any car making the turn had to slow way down and take up the full width to navigate the turn.

There must have been some recognition that these were unusually tough turns, since each was numbered. We started with curve number 1, and made our way steadily uphill, through turns 3, 4, 5...

"Cuarenta," said the driver with a broad smile.

I checked my phrasebook. Oh great, there were 40 of them.

Around a third of the switchbacks had makeshift shrines. Apparently some cars had gone over. I suspect that was at night or during bad weather.

Finally, we hit the 40th turn, right at the first ski resort (Farallones). We took the turn to Valle Nevado. At this point, we started seeing snow, which felt great. Suddenly I didn't mind having to carry my big snowboard bag.

Within just a few minutes of more climbing, the snow was towering over us. We passed several snowplows, each hard at work to keep the road clear as snowbanks and entropy conspired to stop traffic.

But the road remained clear, and without too much trouble we hit the end, the large and fairly ugly hotels at Valle Nevado . I seem to remember reading that the resort was built in the 90's by a French firm, and I have to take issue with the design.

I thanked the driver, and he left with a final reminder that he'd be happy to show up at any time and drive me anywhere.

However I much I disliked the architecture, I had to be impressed by the logistics, both for construction and operations. These were decent hotels, maintained at close to 10000 feet in the Andes. A bellboy carried my huge bag behind me.

I walked into reception, and was informed that my room wouldn't be ready until 4pm. Perhaps I would snowboard in the meantime? It was only 10am, and I was beat from over 18 hours of travelling. Also, I could feel the effects of the altitude, and wanted to wait for a day before doing any strenuous exercise. I said I'd lounge in the hotel.

I went outside, and took some of my first pictures of the trip.

Looking up the slopes from the parking lot.

At the North end of the hotel.

First runs

I had lunch at a small table overlooking the slopes, and relaxed a bit. By 1pm I was a bit re-energized, and I was climbing the walls with boredom. So I walked down to reception, and said I'd snowboard after all. They let me change, and I pulled out my snowboard for the first time in 9 months.

From the top of the slopes, looking South.

On the very first run, I met another snowboarder, and we boarded for a few more runs. He managed to take my picture back at the bottom, near the hotels.

Me, in front of the hotel.

The last run was around 4:30pm. We headed back to the hotel, and agreed to meet for dinner. I was finally able to check into my room. I had booked a suite. The interior wasn't great (think of a nicer-than-average dorm room), but it was spacious and comfortable. Besides, it was just a way station between snowboarding excursions.

The view from the living room (and small deck).

A week of snowboarding

The next morning dawned fairly foggy.

The view from my living room the next day.

I tried a couple of runs, but it wasn't much fun without being able to see anything. I didn't go out again after lunch. Very few other people were on the slopes either.

On the whole, taking the rest of the day off was probably a good thing. I'd had a few light days to get used to the altitude.

The view the next morning was much better.

Waking up to clear skies the next day.

I got up very early, and took a few shots. The lifts weren't open yet, so I ate breakfast and drooled at the snow.

Looking at fresh corduroy from the hotel.

Zooming in on the mid-mountain lodge (pretty decent food there).

Around 9:30, they opened the lifts. I hopped on, and got ready for the first ride.

On the lift, looking back at the hotel.

Looking up the lift.

At the top, looking east at the mountain.

In fact, the snow sucked. Even the groomed runs were extremely hard from the cold, dry night. I took a few runs, wearing out my legs on the brittle surface.

Looking south, downslope to the hotel and across the mountains.

By the afternoon, the sun had warmed up the surface, and snowboarding was a lot more fun. More people were out on the slopes, but even so, the runs were mostly empty. Even at the busiest days, Valle Nevado is far less crowded than any North American ski area I've been to.

Looking south again, in the afternoon.

The other days were pretty much all like that. From every day until the last day, I woke up to clear skies. We had a few nights of snowfall, not much accumulation but it helped. Even without new accumulation, the grooming and sun kept the surface in good shape. Early afternoons were always excellent boarding.

Another happy view in the morning.

On the lift again.

At the top of the very highest lift, I took a picture at the last possible second. This gave me a good view west towards the sea. I don't think you can see the Pacific from here, but on clear days you could look across the many clouds and peaks of the Andes as everything faded into the distance.

From the top of the lift.

Although I was travelling alone, it was easy to meet people. In retrospect, I guess it's obvious: Valle Nevado self-selects for people that fly around the world to ski/snowboard. There were several folks from many countries (and particularly the USA) that were there on their own, just for the skiing.

The last day broke cloudy again. I considered taking a few last runs, but decided not to so I could check out and head into town early. That was a good decision: I ran into a few folks I knew, they hadn't even gone up to the slopes, since visibility wasn't very good. So I had timed my last day perfectly.

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