Moving to the Mountains

I love the mountains, they are amazing, they are challenging, they are beautiful, powerful, deadly, fun, and when I'm in them, I feel at home. I love visiting the small mountain towns and communities of people who live in these magestic hills. There is something about a group of people who choose to live their life with all the challenges of the mountains from the changing weather to the isolation; they're forced to work together and help one another.

These things are an unspoken reality that go unspoken. They exist and we feel them, but talking about them isn't necessary. Even now I am struggling to find words to express what I love so much about the mountains, and why I love it. I can tell you that it's not here in France, not that I've found yet.

I moved to Val d'Isere France, one of the highest and most snow sure ski areas in France, host to the downhill ski events of the 1992 Albertville Olympic Games,, annual opening venue of the World Cup Downhill Ski Races, and voted one of the best places for a ski holiday; and I can't stand it.

There is nothing here in this town that embodies what I love so much about the mountains. In place of a community of people persevering through the rugged mountain environment I've found a rowdy gang of revellers and party people here for a winter of getting drunk and skiing sometimes. Instead of guests come to experience the mountains I've found wealthy tourists staying in fully catered hotels and chalets with ski rentals delivered to their door and a private shuttle can to the lifts.

It's my opinion that this town sold out. They gave up on what made them so amazing and began selling ski holidays to the people who are otherwise unable to handle what life in the mountains is like. On top of that, there's this grand facasde that's been erected on each and every building in an attempt to make them look nice. But anything more than a glance and it's not difficult to realize that they are not wooden timber chalets, but in fact concrete monsters with a lot of make up. At least the buildings in the neighbouring town of Tignes, which shares it's ski area with Val d'Isere to create the large Espace Killy, do not pretend to be something that they are not. As a result the feel of authenticity and community in Tignes is greatly heightened.

Having said all that, there are people here who are amazing, who love the mountains and the life that they offer. People who are able to take what they love and share it with the visitors who arrive her. People who want to be in the mountains so much that they'll pay any cost, even that of living here. Others who like being in Val d'Isere and yet have found it nicer to live just outside of the valley. True Mountain people, embracing community and hardship whenever they show up.

As a snowboarder I feel that perhaps it's not proper for me to rant about the ski area itself, as it was developed by skiers and for skiers. From what I can tell it was created in a way that one can ski all over the mountain area along the nice pistes, getting heaps of kilometres of skiing in as well as challenging your abilities on some steep terrain. It is lacking in side hits and peppy little shoots, wall rides and all the little extra bits that make riding fun. At the same time I can't fault the ski area for doing well exactly what it was designed to do, I simply don't like the design.

I can't talk about the ski area without mentioning the off piste, which is what I like to call clack country. A place you need to be prepared to go into like you were preparing to go into the wild back country, but you get to take the lifts instead of walking. The abundance of easily accessible off piste means that there are people who're skiing there who're not prepared for it.

Well, that's how this town of Val d'Isere is seen, through the beard.