Hitting the Slopes, New Zealand Style
There were no fireworks or drone shows.
No BBQs or red-, white- and blue-saturated parades.
But Old Glory was flying full-mast from a post near the Curvey Basin ski lift, a nod to the 247th birthday of U.S. independence. It was a strange juxtaposition, being otherwise surrounded by a sun-drenched cold, skis scraping along on packed-down snow. But here we were, Yanks skiing on the Fourth of July: hitting the slopes, New Zealand style.
Alpine skiing on the Fourth is considered a unique experience for Americans living in the southern hemisphere. However, due to epic snowfalls intrepid snow-lovers could shred it this year in several “hot” spots in the western U.S. And ski they did. Check it out in all its stars-and-stripes glory here.
But skiing is still skiing, no matter in what part of the world you choose to hit the”pow”
~Getting on and off the lifts is the same (some wipe out, most don’t).
~Some people get hurt, but most don’t (In the span of a few hours we did see two helicopters air-lift people from the ski field).
~A few go topless, most don’t. That is, very few people were without helmets. (What did you think I meant?!?)
~The trails are graded green and blue and black. Just like a bruise. (The ski world has a sick sense of humor.)
Despite these similarities, there are some differences compared to what we’ve grown accustomed to in Colorado.
Expect a trek
The turn-off to a ski field, as ski resorts are called in New Zealand, doesn’t mean you’ve arrived. It can be a several-kilometer drive up a mountain before reaching the lodge, requiring 4WD or chains (or better yet, tickets on a shuttle to get you to the lifts). The views are breathtaking.
Ideal for the Directionally-Challenged
I’ve gotten lost more than once at our home resort, which measures in at 85 km of ski slope-bliss over 100+ runs. It’s not even a big resort by U.S. standards, ranked 37th-largest. But Purgatory (“close to Heaven, fun as Hell,” as the website boasts…) is large by New Zealand standards. The Remarkables near Queenstown offers short runs totaling 10 km* and is totally my jam. I could see exactly where I was heading and didn’t wind up on a double-black, side-shuffling my way down and taking all the good snow with me. Hypothetically speaking, of course…
The Red Run
Rated somewhere between black and blue are the “reds,” the intermediate-expert runs for people who laugh off the reference to massive bleeding. This means my husband and youngest had to try it. My daughter described it like El Diablo, the icy but doable run at our home resort, the devil of my ski existence that I hope to one day master.
So, red runs. Well-marked with red signposts, not the blood of their latest victims. But they aren’t for the faint of heart, just be warned.
No Underwear Tree
We miss the underwear tree, a good ol’ North American winter tradition. Envision adrenaline junkies on a ski lift hurriedly undressing in order to fling a bra or undies onto a tall Ponderosa Pine, then frantically sorting themselves before the lift spits them out. Some bloggers tell that tall tail. But the lamer and more realistic bet is the well-organized skier whipping a random garment from a jacket pocket, and flinging it onto a branch already laden with busted underwires and stretched elastic.
However the skivvies got there, the underwear tree is an oft-commented-on landmark at Purgatory and many other ski resorts around the U.S. and Canada. Sadly, one was not to be found at The Remarks. Not that fun-loving Kiwis wouldn’t enjoy decorating a tree with unmentionables, but there are simply no trees on the ski fields. None. So if it’s windy, the wind is fierce. But the trade-off is unmatched, panoramic views.
The surf-ski sandwich
I’ll never do it, but I love the idea:
- Surf the sea at sunrise near Christchurch.
- Ski the fields midday.
- Surf the Tasman on the west coast at sunset.
Best day ever.
Hearing a friend describe his surf-ski-surf days as a coed, seeing the reminiscent look on his face…priceless. How many places in the world can someone do this? Not many.
Pretty cool.
No, it’s not premier skiing with hundreds of runs to discover on a bluebird day. But skiing in New Zealand is fun. The runs were short, but the snow was good. “The Remarks” had a laid-back, community vibe.
Next time, maybe we’ll hit Cardrona and have a Karl Urban sighting. He likes to ski there.
Read more about our adventures in skiing right here at pulseonparenting.com:
Downhill skiing, advice from an amateur
Learning to alpine ski as an unathletic forty-something.
[*The largest ski field in New Zealand is Whakapapa-Mt. Ruapehu, at 44 km of slopes.]
