Some Walk On Water, I'm Happy Riding On Snow

Originally posted to El Cantar de la Lluvia on Tuesday, September 26, 2006

I came across the pictures for this post, all set aside in iPhoto and ready to be published, but for some reason I hand't got around to publishing them, and then I went for other rides, and published those, and that was that.

Anyway. A few months ago, in mid winter, we decided to have a go riding up to Farellones, Santiago's ski center area. Jare on his newly acquired (previously owned) Katana 600, Jano on his not-so-newly-acquired XT 225, and everyone else on their respective bikes.




What I clearly remember is that it was a grey, grey day, and you probably know how I hate grey days. You know where grey days come from? From the butts of gods, that's where. Really.




You don't believe me?



You're an incredulous bunch.



Well, whatever. The thing is we rode up the road, surrounded by snow, and that was quite nice.



Jare, happy with his new bike:



Pato Wein and Paula, Chile's most bundled-up pillion:



Latin Lover Jare:

This girl knows what preparing for the cold means.

Yup, beer in this cold.



It was cold!



Stavor displays one of his superhuman abilities.

Everyone else decided to turn back, and I carried on, up to Valle Nevado, another ski center that's further towards the Andes. They turned back because they thought there might be snow on the road up ahead. That's precisely why I carried on.

Despite assuming that I wouldn't be able to ride on the snow, I was able to (slowly, slowly) as long as it wasn't deep. Stopping and then starting again was almost impossible, though. The back wheen would spin very easily.



As I carried on up the winding road, I came across more and more snow and ice. As I came around one of the last curves before the Valle Nevado ski center, I came across a truck that had lost traction and had slid backwards into the hillside. Fortunately, it didn't slide the other way. There was a sort of giant yellow tractor, probably used also as a snow plow, with giant wheels covered in chain netting. It pulled the truck out of the ditch.

I turned around at that point, because traction was simply not enough to continue uphill, so much so that I had to get off the bike and turn it around, carefully, oh so carefully.



On the way back the cold made my hands numb.





And with that, I came back home.