Portillo, or "the driest winter in 40 years" The next morning in Portilklo, we had to find out what it means when the media report the "driest winter in 40 years". Lots of rock, lots of sand, lots of dust and little snow. But if even the Austrian national ski team can find good conditions for their training here in Portillo, then we will also find good snow.
Well, it won't be quite that easy, because as is generally known, racers and freeriders don't necessarily look for the same snow to do their job. In Portillo, the snow can do whatever it wants, it's simply always an experience to be in Portillo: If you are skiing, you are in an impressive mountain world, through which the extremely winding pass road to Argentina also winds. And when you're at the hotel, the best place to be is in a large hall where all the hotel guests meet. Whether it's Skibum from the USA, the Austrian national squad, Colby West, a Chilean family or Chris Davenport, this is where you meet up in a very cozy atmosphere and find out what you've been up to on the mountain today. We found another spot with usable snow in the afternoon and while Roman was already lying in the pool, we took a few decent photos.
The next morning, the sky is cloudy, as previously mentioned. So we decide not to unpack our skis again but to drive straight to Santiago to first drop Roman off at the airport and then continue on to Valle Nevado. But Michi hasn't given up hope of blue skies this morning and so we give the weather another hour. If it doesn't clear up by then, we'll break up our tents in Portillo.
Michi probably has the better connection to the weather god of the Andes this morning, because slowly but surely more and more blue can be seen in the sky. So we get out our ski gear again, take our skis off the roof of the car and take the lift up. The evening before, we had already looked for a windslip that had good light in the morning and the snow still looked good there. First we took the lift to the top, then a traverse above the lake shore and finally we had to hike about 50 meters in altitude. After about an hour, the photos are taken and we head back to the hotel along the shore of the lake.
Last stop: Valle Nevado
Three of us in the car, Roman had dropped us off at the airport in Santiago, and we drove along a seemingly endless 58 serpentines to Valle Nevado. A ski resort consisting of a modern ski area and a few hotels built on a narrow mountain ridge at an altitude of 3,000 meters.
The ridge is so narrow that there is no room for anything except the hotels and the associated parking lot. If you stand on this parking lot, there is a steep descent on all four sides.
As it was only midday, we set out to get into the snow as quickly as possible, but even here in Valle Nevado, about 50 kilometers south of Portillo as the crow flies, there was much less snow than on our visit a year earlier. What's more, the entire ski area is actually a desert.
When there is little snow and there are many blown-out areas, the hard Andean wind spreads a lot of dust over the existing snow. White becomes gray. A sight that takes some getting used to...After warming up a little within the ski area, we shoulder our skis or snowboard and hike through a very lunar landscape, where there is only snow, lava rock and dust.
Going Home...
After one last dip in the pool, one last dinner, one last night and one last breakfast, it was back down the infamous curves to Santiago. I haven't felt sick driving a car since I was a child, but that morning I was glad when we rounded the last bend and my breakfast was still where it belonged. Back in the city, we drove through Santiago again and were already standing in front of the airport.
After the luggage had been stowed away and loads of garbage had been removed from the rental car, Kati, Michi and I parted ways. A somewhat longer journey home awaited me: from Santiago overnight to Toronto, a 13-hour layover, on to Frankfurt and back home by train after a total of 3 days.
Text: Gex Rathfelder
Photos: Michael Neumann
