Val d’Isere has a reputation for being, well… full of the rich and occasionally famous. It’s the posh kids playground. It’s also the home of champagne powder, and amazing lines.

This is my third winter here, and fifth GAP year, and long may it continue. I’m working through my BASI snowboard Instructors courses, currently working through my level 3, and also working my ass off in resort to pay for everything.

This winter was crazy, when I arrived in town there was no snow. None. Only at the top of the glaciers, and even then it was sparse. My first days riding was on the Le Fornet glacier at the top of Val d’Isere, we were off piste, and the snow just… wasn’t. The top was quite nice, sugar snow, but even just a little bit lower down we were riding crud. This was staff training, and although the snow wasn’t great, I had an awesome day. We did all the off-the-piste stuff in the afternoon in a super cool chalet run by one of the nicer Chalet companies. I met a pretty cool guy while we were there. He just happened to be the chalet chef. A kiwi who was fresh outta riding in Canada. He seemed pretty perfect actually, someone you could just sit and chat to for hours, pretty hot, and into his riding.

When the snow did come, it didn’t stop. It was insane. The lifts were closed for a day due to the avalanche risk, and even the town was on lock down. People were stuck in Fornet for thirty two hours while the roads were closed after an avalanche over the road there. We weren’t allowed to walk to La Daille but you were allowed to drive, the road down to Bourg Saint Maurice was closed at points too.

We drove down to Bourg on the day of the big snow fall and almost got stuck down there. I have a Toyota Hilux Surf from 1989 (it’s the same age as me, and my baby, put a new engine in it last summer and love working on it) and me and three friends all packed in to go shopping down the valley. We had a trip to Lidl, hit up Maccy D’s for some food and headed back up the hill. At this point I’ll point out that I’m driving on summer tyres! We got almost to the reservoir at the turning to Tignes when the traffic just stopped. As far as you could see there was just this amazing queue of traffic. We were stood still for like an hour, and the only reason they let us up the mountain was that we were in a four wheel drive truck. It was a wonderfully terrifyingly slow drive in low range the whole way up, took forever and thank god for the coaches in front breaking up the snow and providing us with some much needed grip. We were all freezing and just a little stressed by the time we reached Val, (My car doesn’t have working heaters) but it was one hell of a trip!

The things that followed the first snow sorta started to blur, we had snow, it was out of this world! Val d’Isere finally looked like a ski resort. Time to play! Me and my flat mate opened the Grand Vallon for the first time this Winter, we were the first up the Signal drag lift and down the other side and it was out of this world!!! Some muppet followed us in with no avi kit, but luckily nothing moved and we were all safe at the end of the run, we rode to the bottom of Fornet, took the gondola back up and rode it again, still no one had been down bar us!!! Fresh tracks again? AMAZING!!!

The third run was very different. The off-piste was so busy and over-crowded that it looked like a piste! On the traverse line back round to the top of the gondola my mate dropped like maybe two metres below the line and caught the edge of a slab. He slid out to the side of it and was fine but it was proper scary. The light was so flat that I didn’t even see it was a slide until he started to tumble.

The skiers on the traverse line above didn’t seem to even notice. Flat light is a nightmare, time for some new lenses me thinks!

I had some epic powder days at the start of the season, it was amazing how long it stayed untracked, and the snow kept on falling, covering our tracks! Magic!

The night life wasn’t bad either. Saying that, I don’t drink as a general rule, I like to get up early for the snow! But hey, I hadn’t started work yet so I might as well go see what was happening. I met the chalet chef again, and it was then I found out that no one’s perfect. This amazing guy was all ready in love with someone else and wanted ‘a six month’ fling. Not convinced on that like. Still, I really did like him and may have spent the night, against my better judgement, he really was lovely though!

Saloon Bar had a ‘Pimp’s and Hoe’s’night which followed and I went with some friends, intending not to drink. I met the Chalet chef again, and pathetically got very drunk on my one free drink and a single shot at that party. It was in my drunken state that I ended up in bed with him again. Ooops! Time to grow a pair and stay away maybe? It hasn’t happened since, and now we seem to have settled into being just friends pretty well!
Back to riding, and last Wednesday I had the best day EVER! Freeriding in St Foy with an amazing guide and an amazing group of people! That’s the stuff dreams are made of!

We had an early start, and left Val d’Isere before nine. The car was packed with ski’s and boards, and off-piste packs. We were all excited, some of us knew what to expect, and others had no idea. I was one of the latter. I had never skied in St Foy before, but had heard the almost legendary tales of the snow on a good day there. Our guide for the day, Frederic Baude (Fred) from SnoCool, was the kind of guy you instantly liked, and he had a snowboard with him, an instant plus in my books (he can ski too though). In St Foy Station we picked up our ski passes (with Carre Neige insurance just in case) and headed toward the first lift.

Our group was comprised of three skiers and four snowboarders (one being the guide), so it was a complete mix. We were joined by Fred’s sister and brother in-law for the mornings expedition too, both on snowboards. We were all more than competent skiers and snowboarders, and looking forward to the days riding.

We went right to the top of St Foy, using three of the four chairlifts, and when we reached the summit of the final one, we strapped our equipment onto our packs and began to hike. We headed to the Pointe de la Foglietta, which is between forty-five minutes and an hour’s worth of walking. The views were out of this world, panoramic beauty all the way up. Our guide, Fred, was perfect, he chose a pace that everyone could follow, and was patient and helpful over all the places where we had a bit of a scramble.

When we reached what we thought was our destination, we were disheartened to see that it looked rather tracked out, had this really been worth the hike? Only then did Fred let us in on one of his secrets, a little further along the ridge, a slide across an open face, and a short scramble later, we arrived at an untouched powder field, accessed by a very narrow shelf round the rock, but all the same, it was perfect.

The ride down was out of this world, the snow was perfect and Fred knew the lines well enough to make sure none of the snowboarders got stuck on the flat. The bottom of the slope flattened out slowly into some variable terrain, a few trees, some wind lips and other bumps and lumps. The boys were launching off the wind lips, and the girls weren’t doing half bad either. The bottom of the run was a little bit sticky, being a little too flat, but we got across it, and then onto a thrilling, almost white knuckle ride though the trees, ducking and diving under the few which had fallen across the path. We skied though a village seldom used in the winter, and the down to a perfectly situated bus stop. Fred had timed it perfectly and within ten minutes we were on the bus, heading toward our next run. It was out of this world.

Now Val’s got more snow again, and my heart is breaking because I’m supposed to be driving my mate to the airport tomorrow, which is supposed to be the only bluebird day this week. Totally Gutted.