Spring break? More like SKI break!

TU Delft isn't a fan of spring break. They put it right after exams in the first week of February. Not exactly spring. So, according to my fellow students, we have "ski break" instead.


Ski break is awesome.


On Friday we flew to Geneva to meet our friend Eric. Or at least that was the plan. What actually happened was our flight got cancelled 15 minutes before it was supposed to board because it was "snowing" and Schipol didn't have enough de-icing fluid.

At least we got the Seattle experience. A little taste of home.

Luckily, European law requires Airlines to put you up in a hotel and feed you if your flight is canceled. Ev and I talked about catching the train back to Rotterdam and coming back for our (new) 6:30am flight, but decided that that would SUCK, plus we'd have to leave our bikes at Central Station for a week and that just seems like a really bad idea.



So Ev and I got less than 4.5 hours of sleep, got on a plane and met Eric and his friend Marie in Geneva. We were supposed t arrive Friday night, drive to Grenoble, and ski all day Saturday. Because of our unexpected travel changes, we drove to a ski resort between Geneva and Grenoble and skied a half day.

Well, everyone else skied. I was too tired to function, so I found a cafe, had a coffee and read.

It was nice.

A little bit of night skiing made for some amazing photos

Sunday we packed up early and hit the slopes again. I haven't skied since breaking my ankle, so I'm a tad out of practice. Not like I was any good to begin with, but still... I got to watch the show as the boys put the chains on the rental car to get up the mountain road to the ski resort. Totally worth it, especially since the powder was AMAZING.

Putting on chains was kind of an adventure the first time. The second, third and fourth were much faster.

It turns out that my ankle is very not ok with being weighted on the outside for prolonged periods. This translated to turning right being pretty awful, and my skiing abilities being, well, not great. Eventually it loosened up a bit (and I popped some ibuprofen) and was tolerable to ski on. I suspect it will continue to improve (the ligaments have only had 23 months to knit back together) and become stronger and more flexible. Which means skiing won't hurt at all. And maybe I'll be able to actually climb cracks again.




Ev, Eric, and friend Marie headed off for some big-boy skiing while I stuck to my "I'm a total beginner" slopes (aka blue).

Ev has crazy big powder skis. He was very, very pleased with himself for bringing them to Europe.

After a wonderful day of skiing, we returned to Grenoble for some traditional French cuisine.

And by that, I mean fondu.

Seriously, a giant pot of melted cheese to dip bread (and whatever) in is kind of brilliant. And delicious.

En route to scrumptious cheesy goodness (that probably took a year off my life), we noticed that "Je suis Charlie" slogans and graffiti can be found everywhere. A bookshop had a bunch of Charles Hebdo drawings in their window, so we took a look and appreciated some pretty entertaining political cartoons.

The middle one is recent. Apparently the French president got pooped on by a pigeon while giving a speech to Holocaust survivors. They got a good laugh at his expense.

We also found the most European thing I've seen in ages: super miniature, electric rental cars. Rental as in put some money in the slot and drive away.

For shizzle.

After a short rest day of wandering around Grenoble, Ev sucked it up and drove the rental car (with me and skis, obviously) to another ski resort.

He was not super pleased about the city driving.

Or the fact that, as far as we can tell, driving in France is freaking terrifying. Basically, you do whatever you want because the rules of the road don't really seem to be much of a thing (our France-driving terror was confirmed by a French friend. Apparently, you can park anywhere if you put your hazards on. Even in the middle of the oncoming lane. 

I really couldn't make this stuff up.)

But we made it to the resort and had another amazing day of mountains, snow, and skiing. It was lovely.

Wednesday we decided to check out Lyon and hopped on the train. An hour and fifteen minutes of beautiful countryside later, we arrived and proceeded to wander. 

Apparently it's unconventional, but Ev and I really enjoy wandering. You get to see parts of the city you wouldn't normally, can go (or stop) wherever you want at whatever pace you want (I absolutely love having no time pressure. It's magical), and can stop and take pictures of random structural components at will. We may miss the museums and tourist attractions, but I feel like we get a feeling for the actual city we're in, rather than the shiny part presented to the world.

I gotta say, I'm not super in to the structural photos bit, but it's kind of Ev's thing, so I'll be supportive. Make fun of him some, but be supportive. 

Lyon (and France, from what I've seen) has some absolutely stunning architecture. Even the engineer in me has to stop and take in the beauty of it. Maybe not the practicality, but it's old and pretty and it's not like anyone would build something like that anymore, which makes these buildings worth appreciating. 

Our immediate reaction to this castle was "oh, whoa, looks like something from Disney!"

Lyon city hall. Every city hall building we've seen in Europe has been really cool. Probably has something to do with being the center of town government (or something), but still...

Seriously. I highly recommend going to the city hall in whatever city you happen to be in when in Europe. It's nifty.

Two things happened returning to Grenoble from Lyon: first, something happened to the train (tracks?),  and we pulled out of Lyon and then stopped. For 2.5 hours. Five minutes outside the station. Then Ev developed a fever. He was feeling a bit under the weather already, but apparently sitting on the train with a ton of other people being cold (it's not like the trains are heated or anything) for literally hours isn't great for your health. By the time we got back to Grenoble, he was a mess with a serious fever.

So we took another rest day in a furious attempt to fend off the sickness. It didn't work, but he felt good enough on Friday for another day of skiing.


And then we went back to the mountains.


When we arrived at the resort the visibility was terrible. We basically went "well, we're here and want to ski, screw it" and hopped on the lift, fully prepared for awful white-out conditions all day.

Most of the way up the first lift, we broke through the clouds and were greeted by a spectacular view.

The last time I had a view of the mountains above the clouds this spectacular was in Bison Gulch a couple winters back when we camped on Mount Healy. 

Bison Gulch October 2012. A memorable view. Man, I miss Alaska sometimes...

Once again, Ev, Eric and co. struck off for some awesome, badass skiing while I wandered up to a cluster of blue and red routes.

Ev stayed home on Saturday and Eric and I went to ski again. I attempted to follow the map and do a long blue route down the mountain. I tried a couple times but couldn't seem to find the turn to the second section of the run, so kept taking the lift up to the start and trying again. Eventually I "figured out" where to turn and followed the blue marker posts. Then the trail got narrow and was no longer groomed. And the blue posts vanished and were replaced by black posts.

Then the trail stopped being a trail and started being an extremely steep, tracked up, mogul-y black route with no alternative way down.

I stared at it for a few minutes, went "oh shit," then took a deep breath and started down.


Needless to say, that route was well beyond my abilities, let alone comfort level. It took me a solid 20 minutes to get down, but I did manage to actually ski parts of it. Ish. By the time I reached the bottom my legs where trashed and I was drenched in sweat. It's been a very long time since I've been that scared. Not a shut down, blind fear, but more of an "ok, this is bad. Very bad. Time to deal with it. I'm pretty sure I won't die" fear.


It's safe to say that skiing that route was a type II fun Jannsen.



After my legs stopped shaking and I stopped being completely freaked out, I skied to the bottom of the mountain and had a beer.

I definitely have become a better skier over the past week. And it was great to see Eric and watch Ev doing the whole crazy skiing thing. He's really, really good and it makes him so happy.

Note the satisfied smile and crazy ski hair.

As seems to be the trend every time we've traveled lately, being in the mountains made me really homesick and a little lonely. I never thought I would get so sentimental about Alaska and being near mountains to climb and ski on with good friends. I feel a little silly about it, honestly. I knew moving to Europe was going to be a massive change, planned on culture shock and stress from school, and keep in pretty steady contact with family and friends. But it's not the same as actually being with the people you care about (obviously) and sometimes that contact just emphasizes the distance between you. It does help that two of our friends have bought tickets to come visit (Jesse for a month at the end of March, Adam for a week over Thanksgiving). I suppose that means we should probably plan some sick climbing adventures in Spain.

It's nice to have things to look forward to.