After yesterday's killer day at Chatel, my legs were a bit tired this morning so I didn't get on the lifts until 10:30 and went straight to Avoriaz, the highest sector in the Portes du Soleil. Altitude is all important in the Alps, so no surprise that Avoriaz has the most snow and most reliable conditions in the region. It's also enormous and almost laughable how the trail map doesn't give you an idea of how big the scale is here:
Since I was solo and the light was a bit flat, I spent less time in the offpiste and more time "clucking around" to learn the lay of the land. Still, I got some great, long untracked shots. The upper 2,500 vertical feet is all above treeline and vast: a sea of white.
Better visibility further down:
As mentioned before, there are atmospheric independently-owned restaurants virtually everywhere with top-notch F&B, especially noticeable to those of us from North America. Also worth noting is that a large majority of the time, you can eat outdoors comfortably and lounge in the sun, complete with a snow dog in the sky:
Eventually, I skied into the purpose-built village of Avoriaz. This is maybe a sixth of it.
Avoriaz has two big selling points. From a skiing perspective, It's unquestionably the best location in the Portes du Soleil with easy access to all of the major sectors. It's also 100% car-free; there are parking lots on the edge of the village and in underground areas, and you either use a sled to move your things around or hire a horse-drawn sleigh, which seem to be everywhere:
While these purpose-built structures are perhaps a bit easier on the eyes than some of the 1960s monstrosities that were thrown up in the very best ski locations throughout the French Alps, they still remind me too much of the French low-income housing projects that you see in the outlying areas of big cities. Personally, I'll always trade a bit of convenience for a real mountain town and that's why I stayed the first three days in atmospheric Les Gets and the last three days in equally cute, but more bustling Morzine.
Eventually, I headed back down to Morzine, which you can see in the distance beyond a huge stone cliff:
At 5:30 pm, I tried something completely new to me: "la luge nocturne"/night sledding (or as the many Brits here would say, "sledging"). About 50 of us took the Pleney gondola to mid-mountain, where a winch cat was at work:
We were outfitted with head lamps and "Snow Bobs," basically a plastic sled with a seat:
... and serrated brakes that work independently -- you pull left to go left and right to go right:
And off we went in two groups -- I was with the French-speakers followed by a contingent of UKers down a twisting 2,100-vert run.
Even though the trail was at steepest a mild blue, things really got moving with a bit of pitch and you quickly learned that it wasn't as easy as you thought. You really had to feather the brakes to make sure that you didn't turn too fast, in which case, a violent end-over was the result. There was also the occasional bumper-car effect as 20 of you are racing down the slope, maneuvering around people who'd crashed, and trying to avoid crashing yourself, and if you followed the person ahead of you too closely, you'd get blasted by his or her "exhaust" -- snow kicking up from the brakes digging into the snow.
By this time, it was completely dark and there was no point in trying to take photos.
We went through two narrow glade trails, alongside several steep dropoffs in the woods before arriving at the bottom of the mountain, the scene of an apres-ski outdoor party.
It was way more fun (and more challenging) than I had expected and I'd do it again in a second. Moreover, hats off to the French, where lawyers clearly haven't taken over because ski areas' legal teams in the U.S. ski would've demanded a multi-page denial of liability from every participant. Has anyone seen night luging like this at any stateside mountains?
Since I was solo and the light was a bit flat, I spent less time in the offpiste and more time "clucking around" to learn the lay of the land. Still, I got some great, long untracked shots. The upper 2,500 vertical feet is all above treeline and vast: a sea of white.
Better visibility further down:
As mentioned before, there are atmospheric independently-owned restaurants virtually everywhere with top-notch F&B, especially noticeable to those of us from North America. Also worth noting is that a large majority of the time, you can eat outdoors comfortably and lounge in the sun, complete with a snow dog in the sky:
Eventually, I skied into the purpose-built village of Avoriaz. This is maybe a sixth of it.
Avoriaz has two big selling points. From a skiing perspective, It's unquestionably the best location in the Portes du Soleil with easy access to all of the major sectors. It's also 100% car-free; there are parking lots on the edge of the village and in underground areas, and you either use a sled to move your things around or hire a horse-drawn sleigh, which seem to be everywhere:
While these purpose-built structures are perhaps a bit easier on the eyes than some of the 1960s monstrosities that were thrown up in the very best ski locations throughout the French Alps, they still remind me too much of the French low-income housing projects that you see in the outlying areas of big cities. Personally, I'll always trade a bit of convenience for a real mountain town and that's why I stayed the first three days in atmospheric Les Gets and the last three days in equally cute, but more bustling Morzine.
Eventually, I headed back down to Morzine, which you can see in the distance beyond a huge stone cliff:
At 5:30 pm, I tried something completely new to me: "la luge nocturne"/night sledding (or as the many Brits here would say, "sledging"). About 50 of us took the Pleney gondola to mid-mountain, where a winch cat was at work:
We were outfitted with head lamps and "Snow Bobs," basically a plastic sled with a seat:
... and serrated brakes that work independently -- you pull left to go left and right to go right:
And off we went in two groups -- I was with the French-speakers followed by a contingent of UKers down a twisting 2,100-vert run.
Even though the trail was at steepest a mild blue, things really got moving with a bit of pitch and you quickly learned that it wasn't as easy as you thought. You really had to feather the brakes to make sure that you didn't turn too fast, in which case, a violent end-over was the result. There was also the occasional bumper-car effect as 20 of you are racing down the slope, maneuvering around people who'd crashed, and trying to avoid crashing yourself, and if you followed the person ahead of you too closely, you'd get blasted by his or her "exhaust" -- snow kicking up from the brakes digging into the snow.
By this time, it was completely dark and there was no point in trying to take photos.
We went through two narrow glade trails, alongside several steep dropoffs in the woods before arriving at the bottom of the mountain, the scene of an apres-ski outdoor party.
It was way more fun (and more challenging) than I had expected and I'd do it again in a second. Moreover, hats off to the French, where lawyers clearly haven't taken over because ski areas' legal teams in the U.S. ski would've demanded a multi-page denial of liability from every participant. Has anyone seen night luging like this at any stateside mountains?
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