Right Now I Sounded Like I Was Really Bent

 This post is a little bit emo, but I wrote it in my vulnerable state when I had an ear infection, no money for medicine and no family to help look after me. I got over it eventually, once I had a cup of concrete, but not before I wrote some pretty lame things.

Queenstown makes me feel refreshingly alive. Cliché no doubt, but finding my feet here has brought on a tumultuous whirlwind of emotions that give me the feeling of being reborn. It has to do with being outside of my comfort zone I believe. The initial isolation of being in a different city, away from all my great friends and family, meant that it was up to me to provide motivation instead of receiving it. My excellent friends in Townsville were such a fantastic motivation that I grew lazy and rarely did anything of my own accord. I would simply stand on the shoulders of giants and coast along. Any problems I had at all I could discuss with one of the best big brothers a white boy could ask for, or the most supportive parents a reckless, indecisive and adventure hungry son ever had. Here I feel alive simply because I have everything to do myself, and it’s liberating. My mistakes are my own, and I have to deal with them mostly by myself. I have made some great new friends here, who are excellent to have around me so that I’m not entirely helpless. There is a lot to learn, and for some reason being at home the world felt so comfortable and cosy it was easy to forget the rest of the world that is out there. The cultural complexities of different races were somehow lost on me in Townsville but here they intrigue and inspire me.  Despite this I miss home. Sometimes so much that it hurts a little and this startles me. I’ll get a sudden urge to just fly home and go back to coasting, where no one really relied on me. Somewhere I could just float in my life that felt as if it had no real meaning. In Townsville I was just another retail employee unsure of what to do with his career, no girlfriend, no permanent home, no cool traits, no exceptional looks and no astonishing talents. The epitome of mediocrity. In Queenstown I still have no career path, but that doesn’t seem to matter here. I’m the Aussie from over the ditch reaping the rewards of New Zealand’s beautiful mountains, who hits the slopes almost as hard as he hits the bottle. Someone who is crazy enough to agree to beers any time and gullible enough to buy them. Here I feel like I’m different, I’m not just someone coasting along in retail on an impressive enough wage (compared to the rest of the world), I am an outsider. Townsville was such a bubble for me that I would think about how many people there were in the world but not truly understand, simply because I would rarely meet different people. Meeting new friends over here has totally reformed my conceptualisation on all matters, and although I appreciate the people over here it has made me fully appreciate the group I had at home and what they would so willingly do for me without hesitation.

I know this is bizarre but I feel like in Townsville I had no real emotions, I was too comfortable amongst awesome friends and wonderful family. This is probably just the memory playing tricks on the mind but I had nothing to feel overly emotional about. My days were the same and each week was like the last except for that it was closer to the end of a repetitive year.  All I would ever do is appreciate how lucky I was, with the unremitting love of my parents, a friend I could discuss anything with or rely on for anything. Here is different. I am still lucky in that I have the opportunity to experience a different culture. Here there is a new surprise to be had each day, around every corner a new smiling face from a new fantastic place. Here, being out of my comfort zone, my jealousy is sharper, my laughter is louder. My disappointment is deeper and my satisfaction is tenfold. I notice more around me instead of simply walking along consumed solely in an empty mind state.  The trees here snare my attention, as no tree at home had done since I was a kid. The sky makes for an exceptional recreation; I could merely stare at the horizon for hours with my ipod on if I had the time. I miss home like I used to miss my mum when I was dropped at preschool. I have not missed anything like this for a very long time, and although it’s a queasy feeling I quite like it. I feel like I’m becoming a kid again, ruled by my emotions as they are ignited by things that should be trivial. The breeze here actually has a cool bite, and it makes me smile when it swirls through my jackets and causes me to shiver. The air is so cold and crisp that I sometimes get the urge to just laugh out loud in joy. Fires crackle and provide a fierce heat in combat to the cold nights. Two extremes that make my mind wander. Fires that keep you warm are so much more interesting to me than air conditioners that keep you cool. The way the flames dance is mesmerising. The views are breathtaking, and I often just stop and look in order to get my fix of the emotions the mountains and lakes can stir. Smoke rises from chimneys, someone walks past with a snowboard. Ah snowboards. I love taking out my tools and changing the setup of my board, inspecting the scratches on it and planning the rails that might result in new ones. Nailing a board slide on the down box makes my heart swell as if Christmas was coming and I was six once more. If I shred down the Remarks Park without falling over in a perfect run, mixing up grabs, board slides, tail presses and 5-O’s I get home with a smile on my face that should really split my head in two. The nights after a good day on the slopes I could just sleep forever in an avalanche of contentment, warm beneath a blanket. And I love the blankets here! They actually serve a purpose, I find it hard to leave mine in the morning and it’s as if I was sleeping in on Sunday and mum was asking me to go to Church when I was young. And you get so cold when you’re young, even if it isn’t cold.

Pretty much, despite missing my best friend, my mum and dad, brothers and all my friends and family, I feel as if I am young again in Queenstown. I could not be happier.

The Town Where Gravity is a Toy

What can I say about this week? It has been madness, mayhem and most mischievous.  The great thing about Queenstown is there is always someone willing to knock back a man handle in one of the plethora of pubs situated in this picturesque town. Six nights in a row I ventured out into the wild nightlife in New Zealand’s tourist capital, with work threatening a hard day of recovery after four of those sessions. Some nights I was out only till midnight or just after with a six o’clock wakeup looming forebodingly in the morning, but these nights were still exceptional. Drinks often started at the hostel down the end of my street, The Flaming Kiwi, which hosts a variety of likeable characters who must be getting annoyed by now by my constant presence.  My mother would worry when she reads this and consider me an alcoholic, but I consider myself more of a socialite. I’ve met some great people, some of who can shred epic lines in the park up at Remarks. It’s awesome to share a few drinks and conversation over a cold beer or three.

After one of my larger nights out I woke up at 12.30 on my day off feeling mostly refreshed after the much needed sleep in. I probably would have slept longer except for the fact that I’d received a message from a mate at work inviting me around for some beers. The most relaxing afternoon I’ve had in a long time ensued. The Scottish lad who had me round had just been to Australia and was playing a calm mix of tunes on his laptop while we necked Tui’s in a hot tub. The best thing about a hot tub in QT is the view, the mountains and lake in the surrounding areas are phenomenal. Listening to music and just unwinding in a hot tub made for a time that I’ll fondly remember.

Work is becoming a little bit of a chore now. I still enjoy it enough but unlike at home in the Ville where work took precedence and stopped me going out most of the time; here I am slowly starting to go the other way. I’m not here to work I’m here to snowboard, and if the culture surrounding that involves beers and babes than I’m not going to argue. 

The ladies here are so nice. I’ve not found myself one yet, so don’t expect any illegitimate grandkids mum (least I hope my mum reads my blog cause no one else will), but I’ve managed to get myself into the friendship zone with a whole bunch. Yay.... But I honestly like the companionship of an English stunner that rides pow in Heliski and hits kickers better than I do. Or the Irish girls that drink more alcohol than I’ve even seen in my life. Unfortunately if I drink I don’t normally make it up the hill the next day, and if I do I’m shaky on my board and can’t even stick 50-50’s on the easy boxes.

My snowboard has taken a bit of a battering on the boxes lately, and I’ve tweaked my bindings slightly to a wider stance with my toes facing out from my shoulders more at 15 degrees each foot. This board is going to be my rail board, as it’s a sturdy 147 box scratcher. Recently I was in at a few snow stores chatting about possibly getting a new style of board for powder, because the 147 with my weight on it had no flotation in the deep stuff whatsoever. Everywhere I went said the board was too short for riding anything other than park. In my hazy minded hangover state I put a new K2 Fastplant on Layby. The 2012 model, 154cm with bamboo core and an industry leading 5 year warranty was a bit of a steal at $600, and would ride pretty well in pow for my height and weight. Although going bigger probably would have been a better option, 157 max I reckon. So I decided to do some research on what size boards people normally have after the 75kg salesperson told me that he never rode shorter than a 161 all over the mountain. It turns out he’s one of a kind, as all the pro’s that I googled rode 147-149 for rails, 150-154 for park and 157 for powder and no more. I now have a setup for the first two, although my park board is probably too long for me in park and too short for me in powder. Over the next few weeks I am going to decide whether I am going to use the K2 Fastplant as my slightly long park board or my slightly short powder board. At this stage my intentions are to keep the Libtech Boxscratcher as my rail board, K2 as a powder board, and get myself a new present in the Torstein Horgmo edition of the DC range, 150.5 ply. The reports on ply boards have been exceptional so I’m itching to try one out; I may hit up one of the trial boards in at Quest or Select. It’s a little silly that I’m considering buying a new board even though I haven’t finished paying off my second, but it’s the kind of sport where I just want to try everything and find the right fit. My progression this season hasn’t been great, but I’ve still enjoyed it heaps. I haven’t been up as often as I would like mainly due to the fact I work all blooming week. At home I didn’t mind work because there was nothing better to do in an Army town with no real attractions. Here I’ve got the allure of snowboarding, mountain biking, hiking, the luge, exceptional nightlife, skydiving, bungee jumping and all manner of cool things. The lads at work are all great dudes though, which makes it a little less onerous.

Getting work so quickly has been a little bit of a disappointment. Every time I spoke to someone in Townsville they were always questioning me on whether I had got a job yet, which somehow got into my unconscious and forced my hand a little. I went straight into work and found immediately that I couldn’t get the amount of riding I wanted to get done in. It was bullshit. But at least it made everyone at home a little happier.  I’m still content with the things I’ve learnt, most of it coming from a lesson with a gorgeous American blonde girl who rode like a pro. Hitting down boxes and tweaking to board slide nose press is awesome fun when you pull it off. The season is close to finishing now, which I’m dreading. Although I got my money’s worth with my season pass I still feel that I haven’t been up enough, and that I could have gotten loads better if I had been up more.  As it is with all the tourists leaving I’m soon to become the worst boarder on the mountain because the beginners are all going home. I’m already considering not going home to visit Townsville at the end of the year and instead using my money to go to Japan and ride a different type of snow to develop my style. By then I should have one or two new boards perfect for the conditions. I would love to go to Canada but the flights are so much more expensive and I want to save up a bigger amount and head there for a year or so. Next year I don’t want to work at all during the season and just hit it hard but I doubt I’ll have the coin for that as well as Canada and Japan which I want to do. It’s just so easy to want to do everything. I’m thinking if I keep working over the whole summer and through next winter in NZ, with boarding on the weekends and maybe a short two week holiday of intense riding, I might have enough money to head to Canada with my working visa and get a job there for a year. That will be my first back to back winter, and I’m sure I’ll be less hopeless by the end of that. No doubt I’ll change my mind at the end of the week, because this place just feels like its opened up so many more possibilities than home, but at this stage I’m just loving Queenstown and the people and I couldn’t think of a better place to call home.