Hooo Lawdy!

Alright. So let's get it over with, yes, I was in the snow (with over a metre of fresh) for a week while everyone else was at work/school/uni. Put the jealousy on a shelf while I tell you the story please, then you can glare at me through eye slits if you still want to.

So, months ago, I checked my fb for the twentieth time that day (thank you iphone) and there was a message from Travis, the boyfriend of a best mate of mine. It read: 'do you snowboard?'

I replied 'yes, I do. But Lucy has been trying to get me to go riding with her for the last five years, and my answer is always the same: I have no money.'

After a couple of hours: 'What about if I paid for your flights and accomodation as a birthday present to Lucy?'

My reply: 'Uh, ok.'

So It was decided. I was going to the snow for the first time since I was in Canada in 2005. Woot. Since my Mum from time to time had been sending little pieces of my gear down (imagine my surprise to open up a parcel and in with the birthday gifts are also the base plates from my bindings) I had everything I needed except my board. I asked her to send it down, but since I'm a massive scrooge, I asked her to go to the op shop, buy some blankets and a roll of packing tape and wrap it up like a giant present. She did, and god bless, found that the cheapest way to send it was on a greyhound. I popped in to the depot the week after to pick it up.

'Hello. I'm here to pick up my snowboard please.'

'Oh... nope. No snowboards here.'

I point to my snowboard: 'what about that?'

'Oh. That snowboard.'

Yup, that one. Never let anyone tell you that greyhound is running anything less than a world-class operation.

So, very early on Saturday the 21st, off I popped to Melbourne. I spent the majority of the day watching hockey at the new rink there, the Icehouse. I'm not gunna lie, it's magical. Majestical even. Angels sung as I entered. Their Zamboni is a cat. Behold.

I don't think I need to say anything more on that.

Sunday about 3am we headed off for Hotham. The closer we got, the more evident that it became that there was already a very generous amount of snow. Choice. We parked the car, got geared up and went to ride straight away. Let me tell you who 'we' were.

Lucy: Mad snowboarder. Mad chick. Mad hockey player. Just mad.

Travis: bf of Lucy, good snowboarder, general shitstirrer.

Sheree: friend of all, leggins wearer, decent rider but not fond of toeside edge.

Jonno: Amazing dancer, nice guy and funnyman. Great rider, good at faceplants.

Fab: cool guy, great rider and lover of ladies.

Sylvia: didn't see her ride much but I get the impression she shreds. Great dreads.

Costy: brand new rider. No fear, will try rails and jumps and smash into beer kegs.

Tony: world-seasoned travelling rider. Good looking and not afraid to appear gay when dancing.

Me: textbook intermediate rider, generally likeable buffoon, not good at tree runs.

So we got straight into it. My goal the whole time was to be trying jumps by the end of it. I was mindful not to injure myself for my derby final so I didn't go too nuts and by the end of the week, I was indeed jumping and getting air. Baby air but air nonetheless and I didn't crash any landings. Behold, the awesomeness of my HUGE air.

Any hole's a goal, as they say.

So as mentioned already, there was lots of snow. On account of the fact that mother nature is a skanky moll with no teeth and clearly miffed about it, instead of just snowing quietly at night while we're all dreaming of big air, it was basically a blizzard the entire time. The only exception to that was the hour of sunshine we got on tuesday. We were riding around and when the sun came out we thought that we might head over to the Orchard chair, a place we had wanted to go to for a while. On our way to the lift to take us there, Fab had a great idea - to take a shortcut through some trees. Lemme get this straight - it was not a tree run. It was just trees we foolishly went into. Halfway through, after scraping straight over trees, rocks and Lucy, I took off my board and walked. Clever you might think, I did too, til I sunk to my crotch in snow. By the time we got out of the trees, it was cloudy and spewing snow on our heads like so much confetti at a wedding before the littering taboo set in. Fun memories.

Other than that, good riding.

Nightlife. Beer pong. Alcohol. Staff having a retro night. Me creepily stroking the leg of a girl I did not know on the bus ride home because she was wearing slinky, sparkly pants. Apparently, she didn't mind, but that's second-hand information, I certainly don't remember it.

We had to dig the car out. I cleaned the apartment instead, as I don't go much for digging at the best of times.

Back in Melbourne, and Saturday night I took Lucy and Trav to the South Sea Roller Derby's first public bout. For a first time bout, I was impressed - good sized crowd, great skills, big hits and I got to say hi to the lovely Kitty Decapitate, who coached the winning team. I recognised her bf who is a ref before I saw her, he's a good ref, very thorough and not power-trippy at all.

Ok, that's plenty long enough. One last quick story before I sign off. Saturday morning our cat Kitty was attacked by a big ginger ninja and got a severely injured neck, poor lil thing. Consequently she's hardly moved from our bed, she's still so wobbly. Naturally, being away in the snow for 9 nights, there were things Kat and I wanted to do upon my return... Kinda icky though with Kitty on the bed and all. So we've both been too polite to talk about it, you know, out of respect for Kitty. Last night we broke the silence:

Me: 'Y'know, I gotta admit, I'm just about ready for that cat to be able to sleep elsewhere...'

Kat: 'I KNOW!! I mean shit, I know you've got a sore neck n' all, but jeez... go to the physio!'

Hahaha I can always count on Kat to go to a place nobody else will.

Sweet, so that's it. My 2010 snow adventure. Maybe next year I'll go again, and get another millimetre of air.

shiny salutations,

Tx

Enough with the sniffing!!

Ok, so I have finished work for the day but I am still here because kat finishes an hour after me. What better way to spend it than doing this...

In the spirit of all things snow and ice, today's blog will be about the trials and tribulations of working at an ice arena.

Firstly - it's cold. Duh. What most people don't consider is that if you come here to skate, then you are burning energy and thus not as cold. I always end up in my shirtsleeves when I skate. Although that last part is true, I just really wanted to write 'shirtsleeves'. Anyway, so when you're working and not moving around as much, you freeze your nips off. Thus, I have to layer so much that I look like Kirsty Alley smuggling snacks inside. Also, going to the toilet becomes a marathon of re-tucking crap in. The worst part is that your nose starts to drip and you start sniffing all the time, I feel like Lindsay Lohan - the cocaine bit, not the incarceration bit.

Secondly - people get really injured and you have to deal with it. I had to patch a guy up once who lacerated his leg by falling on his own skate. One girl did the same thing in figureskates but the pointy bit at the back stabbed her in the butt and when she got up, the pointy bit retracted and a glob of fat bulged out of the hole. Yellow, it is. Faceplants aplenty, one girl fell on her glasses, they broke and lodged in her forehead! It was so cool. One of the guys who work here was showing off one day, trying to get the ice off his blade whilst still skating. He slit his palm open and had to have stitches. Not long after it healed, he did it again, same place.

Thirdly - Millions, millions of weirdos come here. Once a guy snuck in while workmen had the door open, hid in the workshop for two hours, put on all the hockey gear that belongs to our maintenance guy, went to skate hire and asked for skates, and then skated around on the ice! Then he took it all off, dumped it all at the top of the v.i.p. room stairs and left, but all the clothes he came in wearing were still here. Another guy comes here from time to time who is almost blind. he constantly knocks kids over and doesn't know it. Once, he took his trousers off in the main area where all the tables are and people complained. I had to have a talk with him and explain that the whole centre is a 'pants on zone'. At present, there is a guy and a girl who come here every weekday, park in the carpark and go at it like rabbits in his car. Fogged up windows and everything.

Fourthly - you get to do cool stuff. I'm a Zamboni driver. I've been doing it a couple of years and I like to think I'm pretty good at it, but I wasn't always. Maybe two years ago, we got our new Zamboni. Zamboni is actually a brand name (hence the capitalising), not the name of the actual machine, we just call it a resurfacer. The old resurfacer was Olympia brand. Now, these things are kinda touchy, they have little knobs on the wheels for traction, but so many things dictate just how much traction you get. If you cut the ice deeper, you won't slide around so much. If you don't cut too deep and you have a tank full of snow, you will drift like an eighteen year old dude in a WRX. The Olympia was very touchy, and had next to no tyre knobs thingys left. Now, anyone who's been to the Adelaide Ice Arena will know that we have two ice pads. One is small. On the large, when you resurface, you have a specific pattern that you drive. You can't get this nice pattern on the small, there are two patches that you will always miss. The way to get around this is to either stop, raise the conditioner, back up and start from there (a pain in the ass), or to hang the ass end out like a hoon (much more fun and entertaining to watch). Back when I was learning, I was at the point where I could resurface the large ice pretty well and control the drift of the machine, but I hadn't really done the small ice. One afternoon when my boss was out, the maintenance guy at the time decided to give me a lesson on the small ice. We were doing a dry cut, which means we effectively shave the ice but don't put the water on top. As I was driving, he told me to hang the ass end out. I said 'I'd rather not, I don't really feel comfortable with that'. The next pass, he asked me again. I answered the same, and added 'it doesn't feel like it wants to slide...' A third time... on the fourth, he said 'just give it some gas and yank on the wheel!' to which I replied 'ALRIGHT! ALRIGHT! I'LL DO IT!' So, like he said, I tromped on the gas and pulled hard on the wheel. It was apparent in the first half a second that passed that his plan was flawed. Instead of sliding, the chugging hulk of a machine lurched forward with the sudden speed, hooked to the left and ploughed straight through the boards.

After the deafening crash, he leapt off the machine to survey the damage and froze when he saw it, his hand over his mouth. The coffee shop lady threw the back door open and her eyes were saucers as she took in the carnage. I stood up but still couldn't see, so I whispered 'is it bad?' 'yes', he said, 'but we can fix it'. I switched into defensive mode and shouted 'I didn't want to do it! You made me do it!' He nodded his agreement. I got down off the machine, he got on to finish the resurface and put it away and do you knwo what the bastard said as he drove off? 'Yeah, you're right, it doesn't really wanna slide today, must be too dry'. 'YA THINK??'

It took us three hours to repair it and to this day on the small ice there is one board that is whiter than the rest.

Well, time to go train my hockey team! My next post will reveal the winner of this weekend's bout! Cant wait!

Peas!

Tx