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Avoriaz Freestyle Camp Review
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WE were planning on writing
our own write-up of our freestyle camp this
February, but before I could put pen to paper,
I recieved an e-mail from one of the campers,
Ed Andrews. Alas, with a little copying and
pasting my work was done...and I thought it
better to publish a review written by one of
the guests than by ourselves.
So here you have it, a straight up, honest,
day by day account of the Step-On Freestyle
Camp hosted by Chalet Snowboard, written by
none other than legendary camper Ed Andrews.
Day One – London to Morzine
After kicking awake my travelling compadre
at stupid o’clock, we both lugged our
boards out to the cold, damp streets of North
London. A few hours and numerous TV quotes later,
the check in desk at Luton airport was right
before our eyes. Surrounded by snowboards a
plenty, the excitement really began to kick
in. Struggling to resist the urge to joke about
a Middle Eastern guy packing our bags for us,
we were through the check in and on the plane
in no time. Seeing people riding the slopes
on the descent into Geneva made me literally
ache to get on my board. It had been far too
long! We spent a few drunken hours in Geneva
airport before being greeted by Jon holding
the orange Chalet Snowboard sign aloft. The
transfer flew by and before we knew it, we were
settling down into the Chalet with an Xbox,
some beer and delicious meal. As it would be
rude not to head out on the first night, we
started sinking giant Leffes in the Dixie Bar
before sloshing down some rough whisky and coke
in l’Opera and listening to Tim Warwood
using the word ‘cunt’ more times
in a sentence than a gynaecologist with tourettes.
London, work…did it ever exist?
Day Two – Crusing (but not in a Clapham
Common way)
Getting up early and on the piste by
9 was never an event that featured in my previous
snowboarding sojourns. However, I suppose that
there wouldn’t be much point of attending
a freestyle camp if you were going to lay in
bed all day woefully regretting polishing off
the last of the paint stripper that doubled
as vodka the night before. Joining the crowd
of equally excited freestyle newbies outside
the chalet, we trekked up to the lift lead by
our guides/coaches for the week – Jon,
Kirsty, Mike and Andy, all decked out in the
CSb uniform of grey parkas and chessboard goggles.
After a few hours of whistle-stop tour riding
around Avoriaz, the benefits of having a guide
became remarkably apparent. Portes du Soleil
is absolutely immense and having the friendly
local riders at hand to steer you in the right
direction was greatly appreciated. At the top
of one of the many chairs, Jon gave a lecture
to the effect that jibbing, not speed is your
new friend. Cue a crowd of variously armour
clad fools ollying, buttering and switch riding
everything in sight. After a good ten minutes,
with legs and lungs burning, we found ourselves
crossing the border into the Swiss terrain of
Les Crosets. The park suddenly seemed very familiar
as I’m sure it’s been in more magazines
than a scantily clad Abi Titmuss giving advice
on romance and analingus. Lunch was enjoyed
on the top of a very windy Pointe du Mossette
and the afternoon saw several tree runs back
towards Avoriaz and me colliding very unceremoniously
with a steel sign at the edge of the piste.
Stopping off at a bar on the home run to sip
some vin chaud and getting to know some of the
group a little better was the perfect end to
the day. Limping back into the Chalet and playing
Pro Evolution Soccer made the place feel just
like home…
Day Three – Les Gets
The day began with a few warm up runs
before hitting the park where we were introduced
to Joel who promptly informed me that the incessant
pains in my shins were down to my legs being
"straight as fuck" and that I needed
to "bend my legs, man!" Bearing that
in mind, I soon changed my riding style as we
headed for the daunting first kicker. This initial
fear of the blue kicker soon changed to shame
as I witnessed from the chair lift its ridiculously
small size. A few hits later and I was comfortable
clearing the knuckle and feeling completely
elated at the fact – even though from
watching the video footage later, I was looking
sketchy to the point of shite! The box provided
some real entertainment and confidence building
accompanied by the sight of a foolhardy skier
being airlifted off the bordercross - laughing
at other people’s misfortune may not be
nice, but it can be fucking funny! Lunch came
along soon enough and so signalled an end to
the coaching for the day. Leaving us to retire
to steak hache et frites and the excellent views
of Mont Blanc in the unseasonally warm sunshine.
In view of the morning’s exertions, a
leisurely cruise back to Morzine was chosen
above heading back to the park with achingly
tired legs.
Day Four – Avoriaz ‘Baby Park’
With the skies remaining clear, the
La Chapelle park called. With a rather slow
run in combined with a few over cautious speed
checks, the kickers felt more like rough step
downs as I regularly nearly ground to a halt
at the top of the kicker. Several struggles
later and some words of encouragement from Jon
and the video camera at the top of the kicker,
some air was finally being got -albeit with
it ending with me on my arse at the bottom of
the landing. Stacks seemed to be a frequent
occurrence as the back my head came in unwelcome
contact with the icy piste after an over ambitious
nose butter. With a mild headache, dizziness
and a bleeding tongue, the day seemed to become
somewhat of a chore. However, my misfortunes
shrunk into obscurity as another novice member
of our group landed very heavily after a serious
bout of over ambition and had to be whisked
off in a snowmobile. These are the dangers of
throwing yourself off mountains with wild abandon
but as the saying goes; no falls, no balls!
Day Five – Avoriaz ‘Baby Park’…..again
In spite the less than amazing day
before, I was back at the park with a vengeance.
I found myself making some real progress thanks
to another guide Paul who possessed penchant
for luminous orange bobble hats! As speed was
a problem, he suggested I follow him down, keeping
up with him. This proved to be one of the highlights
of the week as I found myself floating over
the knuckle, landing deftly on the run-out with
a huge grin on my face. This was what it was
all about, the reason I snowboard, better than
any chemical induced high you can buy and it
feels fucking fantastic!! However, my elation
was rudely disturbed by thick cloud descending
on the park that reduced the visibility to fuck
all. We retired to Changabang to drown our sorrows
with Grimbergen Lager and Mad Max burgers. A
foggy descent to the main park for an afternoon
jibbing session on the box proved to be an anticlimax
as well. The booming reggae that echoed out
of the mist was the soundtrack to the Danish
National Championships making the most of the
appalling conditions by testing their skills
on the only viable feature the park could offer
– the box! Feeling somewhat disappointed,
beer seemed the best way to retrieve the day
and from there, the evening began. With one
Mutzig in Bar Robinson’s turning into
a speech-slurring three, the mood skyrocketed!
After a somewhat dissatisfactory meal at a local
restaurant, we headed to the Cavern Club to
watch Joel croon out some true classics on his
guitar. My memory after that is patchy of best
but I’m aware of some good old-fashioned
Brits abroad behaviour. The highlights of which
included over enthusiastically telling Adam
Gendle how much I enjoyed his DVDs, several
deliberate attempts to deflate the PSP tent,
the scrawling of ‘cunt’ on the snow
covered cars along with the left-hand punching
game and windscreen wiper theft – no wonder
the Gendarmerie are known to get a little truncheon
happy!
Day Six – I hate alcohol
The day quite understandably involved
lot of suffering from the previous night’s
overindulgences. Following a drunken breakfast,
the only thing I hit was the sack and slept
through until midday. In an attempt to assuage
the guilt for my failure to make it up the mountain,
I headed out the back of the chalet with my
board in hand to session the kicker built in
the powder. This turn out to be a really refreshing
change and I was soon joined by several other
hungover reprobates; all hungry to test their
newly acquired skills. A few tentative hits
later, I found myself testing out my grabbing
abilities, throwing down mutes, nose grabs and
tail grabs with varying degrees of success.
However, trick of the day went to a sprightly
Yorkshireman by the name of Olly for pulling
off a clanging tail tap on a shovel to great
cheers of admiration. After that, the day descended
into catatonic DVD viewing and a well-needed
early night.
Day Seven – Make the most of it, it's
nearly over
The miserable weather of the earlier
two days cleared up to everyone’s delight
and we went up the gondola with a renewed vigour.
The baby park was to be the destination for
a reduced number of riders - many of the group
having snuck off to sample some of the fresh
powder that had graced the slopes overnight.
Although I didn’t seemed to be hitting
the kickers as hard as I should have been doing
on my final day, I did find myself riding with
a great deal more confidence and consistency
than earlier in the week and utilised my newly
found mute grabbing abilities to immense self-satisfaction.
Hunger struck pretty heavily and I rewarded
myself with another Mad Max burger washed down
with a healthy tankard Grimbergen courtesy of
Changabang. The afternoon gave way to some powder
riding through the trees down Linderets and
the popping of a few frontside 1s to the inspiring
sounds of MF Doom - the iPod truly is a snowboarder’s
best friend! Fatigue eventually set in and I
cruised off to photograph some of the amazing
sights that Portes du Soleil offers before the
day was out. Prior to hitting Morzine for some
serious last night drinking, we were all treated
to a very entertaining video anthology of the
week’s riding and a presentation of some
well-deserved prizes ranging from Rider of the
Week to Best Slam. Friday night proved to be
a sequel of Wednesday and the less said about
the Dixie Bar, the better...
All in all, it was an immensely enjoyable week.
I would heartily recommend attending freestyle
to anyone wanting to up their riding, meet new
people and just get more out of your precious
week than merely sliding around the slopes trying
avoid the endless riding impediments of the
jumpsuit-clad skier. I would like to thank everyone
at Chalet Snowboard and Step-On for putting
together such an amazing week, our cook Doug
for providing some excellent food and everyone
else who took part for such a good atmosphere.
It was the best holiday I’ve had and I
would do it again quicker than Pete Dogherty
would hit a crackpipe!!
Editorial : Ed Andrews
Step-On Magazine Issue 28
    
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