Three weeks have passed since our last update, and February has brought the dump of snow we had been craving - we had over 2 metres in the space of a week, which made for some pretty unbelievable skiing. We now know the resort well enough to head straight for the best spots when fresh snow falls, and have even got into the habit of waiting at the bottom of lifts higher up the mountain while ski patrol carry out their avalanche testing. Leo and I patiently waited for nearly an hour last week, with a crowd of fellow ski-bums steadily building - a mighty cheer went up when the lift finally opened, and we were rewarded with a couple of runs through waist deep, untouched powder. We were annoyed not to have taken our cameras up that day; we'd have liked a snap of our lone tracks. Temperatures have returned to suitably arctic levels - on Wednesday the Whistler mountain website proudly announced they were expecting 'highs' of -20˚C, and it got as cold as -27; unsurprisingly, the shop on the mountain which sells balaclavas was doing a roaring trade. Our landlord has also hit us with a heating ban due to our excessive consumption up to this point, making life in the dungeon pretty unpleasant at times - on several occasions I've woken up and started going on my laptop, only for my hands to go numb after a few minutes...
During the period of heavy snowfall, one of my skis has developed a frustrating habit of popping off without warning, which has inevitably left me in a couple of sticky situations. The other day, whilst traversing across a track above a cliff, I stopped suddenly and aforementioned ski popped off - I glanced behind me, praying to find the troublesome ski waiting for me on the track. Unfortunately, it had slid off, and lodged itself halfway down a steep slope, with cliffs and a 30 metre drop onto rocks waiting beneath. Somewhat nervous about the best way to proceed, I turned to ask Leo whether he thought I should try and retrieve it; helpfully, he pointed out that I "didn't have much choice"... So, I took the plunge and spent the best part of half an hour slowly kicking steps down the snow, whilst trying not to soil myself. Ice climbing in ski boots is not something I'll be doing again in a hurry; I felt like a severely disabled mountain goat. Leo watched on from above, half amused and half wondering what he'd do if I did end up sliding off the cliff. Fortunately, I lived to tell the tale - I was a very relieved man when I climbed back onto the track, ski in hand.
We've had the Coote clan in town for the past week, and enjoyed showing them Whistler at its best. Coote broke the habit of a lifetime and managed to catch the 7.24 bus each morning to get on the slopes with them, and he even led Ian and Emily on a hike up the glacier on their final day. Ian was less keen on 'In the Spirit', a dense icy tree run! Having family in town held dual benefits - we had a nice meal at the Keg on their penultimate night, and also returned from the mountain one day to find our fridge fully stocked, and our freezer brimming with ice lollies - a sight which brought a tear of joy to my eye. We also have some house guests once more which always makes our lives more interesting; Laura and Andy's friend Joyce is staying for a week, and Katie's friend Chris has just arrived for a 3 week holiday - they've been briefed to make themselves scarce if our increasingly annoying landlord turns up!
Our working lives are still going well; Leo has got so much cash he doesn't know what to spend it on, and Coote has been working lots of hours - he worked 14 consecutive days before his parents arrived, and is currently toiling away at a double shift. I'm stuck into a 5 day a week working routine, which is a little too much like the real world for me, but keeps the bank balance ticking over. I had a particularly amusing/disturbing incident at the end of a late shift the other night; having finished at about 2am, I was sitting in the corner of the bus stop, surrounded by drunken revellers, attempting to mind my own business. I then made the mistake of turning to my left, to be confronted by a large penis, mid-urination. Fortunately, there was a sheet of perspex between us - had there not been, the chap would have been pissing more or less directly into my eyes. Not knowing quite how to react, I gawped for a second and then went back to minding my own business, safe in the knowledge that the bloke was too drunk to see me - he finished relieving himself and then wandered into the night.
As ever, we've been ensuring we have time in our busy schedules to drink to excess - we have our final rent payment to look forward to on Tuesday, so we've been continuing to frequent the Whistler house party circuit, and are going out tomorrow night to show Joyce and Chris the joys of Moe Joe's on a Sunday night. Leo and I indulged in a lengthy late night wrestling session post-house party the other day; Leo took things too far and got his claws out, leaving me with a nice cut down my forehead, and sparking Harry Potter comparisons. We also enjoyed leading our friend Jonny's brother astray in the form of an evening playing 'Edward Ciderhands'. For those that aren't aware, this involves duct taping a bottle of cider to each hand, and consuming them at high speed. Needless to say, this results in chaos; Jonny's brother was in bed within a couple of hours, Leo spent some quality time with the kitchen sink, and I ended the night with no trousers on, much to my bemusement.
Unfortunately, the final rent payment shows that we're getting ever closer to the end of an incredible time out here; we've still got eight weeks to go but are expecting it to fly by. We're all doing our best to get to the hallowed mark of 100 days on the mountain by the time we leave, but it's going to be a close run thing. Our Vegas trip is still very much on the cards and just needs some final organisation, and we also have the Telus Ski and Snowboard festival to look forward to in April, where some of the world's best descend on Whistler to strut their stuff. Love to all, Josh, Leo and Sam.
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