How regular are you?

I've been looking through my posting history on the blog and found out that there are less postings the less I'm doing. So when I'm really busy I post more. Weird inverse proportionality there.

It's still cold here in Chamonix, interseason continues to march on with us all stretching out fingers at the wintery light at the end of the tunnel. There's nothing even remotely interesting to report at the moment. I've decided to give up drinking for a while (or until the pubs open again), I'm about to share a bath with Pluck the yellow duck, I've been watching 8 out of 10 cats and Have I Got News For You on youtube of an evening after work. These are not interesting facts, but true ones.

The good news is that I'm walking around constantly grinning at everything. Awesome. I'm hoping this is down to being excited about the imminent arrival of the wonderous powdery snow. Metres of the white stuff to ride. I hope it's not interseason madness clouding the mind.

Seasonal Affective Disorder

We're knee-deep in interseason now. The madness has arrived to all in the valley and Chamonix's in a catatonic, zombie state. Guys are walking around with no less than 4 days growth on their chins, girls are not colour co-ordinated. People wear dirty clothes and there's a kind of air of Nirvana (the Seattle-based grunge/rock band, not the Buddhist state of enlightenment) about the place. Simply put no-one gives a fuck.



The seasonal affective disorder that keeps getting mentioned in the UK press is magnified. The British media should come out here and really see just how deep the rabbit hole goes. The other day I felt it was appropriate to nip to the bakers in the morning in my dressing gown and trainers. Bearing in mind that I live in the middle of Chamonix this was probably not exactly what people were expecting to see. The good news was that the only other people around were zombies and there was another chap in a dressing gown too so we positively looked like the norm. I'll be honest though, I totally felt like "The Dude" out of The Big Lebowski.

The best good news is that we're currently coming out of the madness as the recession of autumn marches on into the sparkling, sprinkling, twinkling winter with all the snow and adventures it brings.

Well I'm off to go and join the other like-minded monkeys who live in the valley to celebrate a birthday. Unlike them however I will be shaved, fresh haircut and wearing clean clothes. This is because I'm english By Jove! And we dress for dinner, no matter the circumstance.

Tis Cold!

It's cold, like really cold. England lost the World Cup last night and walking back from the game there was a very very crisp feel to the air feeling like the anhydrous clean smell of an imminent snowfall. I had to scrape ice off the car on Friday night as well - apparently it was -3°C. We've not had any precipitation for a few weeks now, it's almost like the mountains and clouds are saving it all up for one massive dump pre-season. Get the base layer really deep and thick before the lifts open.

Right now I just want the pre-season to end and we can all get involved in the winter. There's loads to do and loads to look forward to. Chamonix town center is dead with the town taking a collective deep breath before the tourists come back with skis and poles in tow. The boys are getting fidgety and there's a sort of nervous tension amongst the locals waiting for the fun to kick off again.

I've even started looking at all my gear, wiping it down and getting it sorted out and fixing small things. I've spoken to Shaun about when we're opening up the transfer business full-time and put together some riding playlists to listen to on the mountain.

I can't believe how nervous I am, at least we're all in the same boat out here!