I’m currently in the back seat, on a 5 hour car journey back home, from a week long trip at Victoria’s Mt Hotham alpine resort. The playground of the rich and decadent. It has been one of the best trips I have had and I feel there is a need to share 2.0’s first time at the snow. Ok. That was a gypsy lie. I have been to the snow before. But that was before the coma incident. So technically 2.0 did get his snow cherry popped. And let me tell you, there was a lot of blood…. The best thing about this; I’m going to share it in words… And pictures.. Awesome!
Before the voyage got underway, I compiled a list of objectives for 2.0’s first trip to the snow:
1. Become proficient at snowboarding.
2. Not get injured/die trying to accomplish the first goal.
3. For a week, forget about anything associated with being at home. Work or personal or other.
4. Party every night.
Fuck a snow bunny. Meet a nice young lady.
6. Hit the slopes and board in my onesie.
So with my bags packed and my goals set, on a chilly winter’s morning, I, along with seven others, set out on a 5 hour voyage to a much much colder place. I had booked this holiday in the summer. As this winter had been extremely cool and I wake up everyday cursing the cold and dreaming for heat, I had reservations leading up to the trip as to why the fuck I had not chosen for a holiday to somewhere warm. But instead choose to go somewhere even colder than it already fuckin was. By weeks end, I decided I had indeed made the right choice. I had managed to tick 5 of the 6 goals I had set before the trip. Pretty good strike rate if you ask me. I wont divulge as to which ones. I’ll let you decide as to which ones they are.
This is me. And yes. This is me wearing a onesie. And behind me wearing a onesie, is Mt Hotham. I had not been to Hotham before. But had heard many good things. A friend of mine wont shut the fuck up about it being some sort of magical winter wonderland. She wasn’t wrong. As soon as you arrive, the vibe changes. Everything slows and becomes laid back. Everyone is friendly. Although, it does seem like some sort of exclusive country club. With membership existing only to those with.. money. The private school kid types. This, is their playground.
This is me preparing to take off at the top of the run. And yes. I’m shitting myself. I have been to the snow before and was there just a few years back. And I have snowboarded. But since the coma incident, every time I have to do do something that I could do pre-coma, I basically have to relearn with my new body. I don’t have a new body. But I have new muscles. I lost 15 kilos of muscle during that coma stretch. And everything we do comes down to muscle memory. From walking. To picking up an object. Our muscles know exactly how much force to exert to complete said actions. In my head, I knew how to do these things. Unfortunately, my new muscles (or lack thereof) did not. The first time I tried to walk post-coma, without assistance.. I swiftly fell over. So yes. In this pic, I’m quietly shitting myself.
This is me on a chairlift. And it quickly became my favourite part about snowboarding. Not just because of the picturesque views. But because of the actual sitting down and resting. Snowboarding, especially if you don’t do it often, is painful. Fucking painful. You’re whole body aches. The strain on your legs. The falls. The cold. It all takes a massive toll on your body. By the second day, I could barely walk. But it was worth it. When you’re out there snowboarding down the mountain, you start to immensely enjoy going through the surreal beauty of the place. And then getting to the bottom. Just so you can sit down, rest, and enjoy the chairlift back to the top and do it all over again. So yes. this became the my favourite part of snowboarding.
This is me snowboarding in my onesie. Note the ease and extreme control. This was on day three. Day one was a lot different. It took me a day to confidently get down to the bottom and get on the beloved chairlift. The first day I mostly fell. A lot. I even bled on that first day. I took a pretty bad stack on day one. Straight on to my face. And my nose instantly started to piss blood. And it wouldn’t stop. I thought I may have broken my nose. For 5 minutes, I turned the white snow, pink. But It wasn’t broken and that was day one. To become proficient, you have to get that first stack out of the way, just so you know, that even though you may draw blood.. Falling.. Is not so bad and you can get that fear out of your head. That’s how you learn.. That was day one. By day three. I was doing 360s in my onesie. Like a boss.
This is alcohol. Delicious. Refreshing alcohol. The routine at the snow quickly became to board during the day. Then drink all other times. A lifestyle I could quickly could get used to. We got up early and boarded till midday. Had lunch. Had a jagerbomb. Or four. Got back out onto the slopes til 4 when the lifts close. Then drink and party until we couldn’t feel feelings anymore. And then do it the next day. Its a splendid way of spending a week away.
This is horse DJ. Or a DJ horse, whichever way you want to look at it. We partied on the last night at one of the many local clubs/bars. That was surprisingly the best part about the place. It really was just one big party. The playground for the rich. People partying in their onesies. DJ’s with horseheads. It didnt matter. Everyone was just keen to get fucked up. Again, a lifestyle I could quickly get used to.. I may or may not have also been on acid this night. So this horseheaded DJ, may or may not have actually been real.
This is me. This is me passed out. This is me passed out with heels, a handbag and a cashmere shawl. Note the content happiness slapped on my face. For a whole week I was able to forget about home/life and all the problems/griefs associated with it. And Just enjoy my time away. Even if I was passed out. Wearing heels. A handbag. And what I later found out to be a cashmere shawl.. You couldnt wipe away the content happiness on my face.
On a chilly winter’s morning, eight people embarked on a five hour trip for six days and five nights of unrepentant fun at one mountain. Bonds were strengthened. Friendships were born. Blood was drawn. Alcohol was drunk. Shots were had. Drugs consumed. Vomit thrown up. Despite the fact I had chosen to go somewhere that was actually colder than the extremely cold winter we were already going through, It was one of the best weeks I have ever had. In this life. Or my first one.
I’m about to buy my own gear. It has been decided, that
the drinking, drugs, partying snowboarding is definitely up to 2.0’s alley and I cannot wait to do it again next year.
N.B. One night it started to snow. I hadn’t actually seen it snow at night before. I cant put it down to being magical.. or extremely eerie. There’s something about the silence of snowfall that just makes it kind of… extremely odd.