Basa in the blizzard while scoping for spots.
Apparently, swathes of Turkey are getting nailed with heavy dumpage and here in Kartalkaya it’s no different. Crazy whiteout blizzard conditions greeted us as we left our hot-ass hotel, but we vowed that we’d at the very least get some urban jibbing done. Splitting the crew in to we scoured the area for spots to jib, bonk, wallride or do something on. After a while we found killer bombdrop but it was too windy to hit it right then. We’ll nail it later, for sure, if this crazy wind ever abates. We also found a nice spot for a kicker over a fence and wall, with fairly steep landing, though a softly dropped snowball to gauge how steep landing was did set off an avalanche, which was pretty nuts so maybe it’s a no go there. Blimey.
Stine, the head.
Further hiking behind the hotel revealed a sick looking pillow land, but after a couple of attempts at stuff we found it was just heaps of this featherlight powder on no base. And big rocks. Bit sketchy. Kjersti managed to do a pillow/rock ride, though, but there was so much snow on the rock that all we could see was a small Norwegian head floating down. Pretty funny.
After lunch the call was made to just head up the mountain and shoot some powder, just so we could say we’d done something. However, in the intervening time the wind had picked up even more and the snow was still coming down, and the clouds had got even more dense. The t-bar ride up had me chuckling to myself at the severity of the weather as Gendle disappeared from view ahead and I was left alone being dragged up the hill in a world of white. We rode down, not seeing a thing apart from our crew, just all on the back leg not really knowing where ‘down’ was until we managed to get to the trees. In there, it was more manageable even though it was for sure the most snow many of us have been tit deep in for a while. “It was probably the lightest powder I’ve ever ridden”, said Basa. If the weather breaks even a little tomorrow, it will be frickin’ sick.
So gangsta: Basa, Lisa and Tania.
Deciding it was better for all involved if we sacked it off for the day to conserve energy for tomorrow, some genius – the jury’s still out on this one – called After Ski, so our crew descended upon the otherwise empty resort bar and got involved with a bottle of Raki to some loud techno tunes. Cue the girls entering into yet another dance off and men staring. Seriously, this lot are like dancing machines. A gaggle of dancinators, or something. Some of the moves were real freaky-gnarly and it was certainly a fun way to end a not-so productive day.
Birds ‘n’ booze.
We just finished dinner now and played that ‘guess what name’s on my head’ game, and it took me an age and a day to guess Ronald McDonald. Ron, you big ginger haired twat. Fingers crossed conditions improve tomorrow. Please.