Urgent Message!!!

Here is a shot of Paul putting the fourth set of tracks down the upper lake runs. All four tracks were made by the posse Friday afternoon. It hadn't snowed since early Wednesday morning. No one crossed them the whole time we were there. These were the tracks from when "WE HIKED BACK IN". It was after ripping the first set af tracks that Chris Davenport flagged Paul down to tell us about the couloir lower on the run. The freshies seem to last forever at Portillo.

After trying several online galleries, I have finally sent out a bunch of pics on Kodakgallery.com. If you did not get any send a request to me or Paul at leojflynn@hotmail.com or jewski179@hotmail.com and we will get the pics to you.

Back in Colorful Colorado. Bullshit!

No more skiing the wrong line and ending up above some very large and very tight rocks. That happened to me on Saturday just before leaving Portillo. Fortunately I left on my own two feet. I was not positive that was going to be the case. No pictures of my wayward line were taken by any posse members, however, three other skiers stopped to take photos of the gringo who was about to die.

At least now we are no longer too tired to get some pics up. This is Paul going ginormous way above the Hotel Portillo. There was a pretty good crowd around, as far as crowds go for Portillo, when Paul hit this one. Chris Davenport had just took five or so from his clinic off the rock. They still needed a little schooling, so Paul went after and drew the most cheers. We will be putting up a link to an online photo album either today or tomorrow.

Just when we thought we were out, WE HIKED BACK IN!

Total bluebird today. We took so many pictures our camera batteries died. Here's how the day played out. We skiied the shit out of the Roca Jack until the sun made the slopes on that side of the resort too heavy and an avalanche forced patrol to close that side of the resort.

Not to worry, the Condor, a similar lift to the Roca Jack, only on the other side of the valley and with large talons, was ready to take us to the starting point for a hike staight back into the vortex. An instructor and two patrolers had started the boot pack. When they had enough, the FTS posse pressed on. We thanked them for their work. Our total hike time was about 45 minutes. We set the high traverse for the day, and proceeded to rip the shit out of the lake run, 3000 or so vert, 2000 untouched. Uber sweet pics! Before plunging onto the lake to get back to the lifts, Pablo was flagged down by Chris Davenport, who shared the location of an insanely gnarly uber sweet couloir off the line we just ripped. We went right to it and skiied the shit out of it. Thanks Chris! You will forever be a friend of the posse. We will tell storties of your compassion.

One more morning of ripping then we head back north. Tomorrow looks to be bluebird with more fresh lines in the vortex!

We Have Come Through the Vortex! ALIVE!

Sorry we did not get anything up yesterday, but we realized finally that we were caught in the mythical powder vortex. We realized this yesterday at 3 pm when we were sking fresh lines only a five minute traverse from the Roca Jack, which is spanish for mechanical bull. We have 1st person video to prove it. People get bucked.

We are not sure at what point we entered the vortex, as we have been making powder turns since we got here. We think it was Tuesday, the start of the blizzard, however, we may have got in there on Big Domingo! A week long uber sweet vortex! We are definitely no longer in the vortex. The sun is shining and today is going to be bluebird.

FTS 6 SUN 1

We win!

Tune in this evening for more exploits.

KABLAMO !!!

Kablamo!
That was the sound everyone woke up to this morning at Portillo. The patrol was out early throwing so many bombs we thought the Argentinian´s had invaded. All 400 skiers here were out for first chair. No lines, just deep pow!
Kablamo!
Now that the mountain is open, why were we still hearing this uber rad sound. It is because the huck fest had begun. People´s grandmother´s were launching the insane drops at this place. The pow and terrain here set up for uber glory air. Standing above a ginormous launch pad, Chris Davenport told Pablo he noticed him ripping earlier, causing Pablo to have to take about 25 feet of air with a slight problem in the crotchal region. It´s the pleats!
Kablamo!
The sound of the canonball into the hot tub for some maxin and uber relaxin. While in the tub we witnessed the largest avalanche any of us had ever seen. It ran from the peaks above the resort down probaly 3000 vertical and slid for over 5 minutes. We saw another smaller one and heard what must have been a bigger one from another valley. This place is insanely uber gnarly. We have skied nothing but fresh snow all week. More terrrain to open tomorrow. By far the best trip yet. But we know it can get deeper! FTS baby!
Kablamo!
This will be the sound when our heads hit the pillow tonight! As you may now be aware, we are too tired to bother getting pics up at the end of every day, but we asure you we are taking many and will get them all online when we get back.

Blizzard of Agosto

Holy Crap!

We have never been in such a ferocious blizzard. The hotel lost power this afternoon so we were not able to try to figure out how to get our pics up. We took a few runs this morning but you literally could not see. When we called it quits after about 45 minutes, Mike Douglas and Shane were getting ready to head out with their clinic. They asked us what we thought.

Holy Crap!

The ski area had to close around 10 am. We remained in a holding pattern hoping the skies would let up a little, but not too much. FTS baby! We spent the afternoon training with our avalanche beacons. We probably wont leave the ski area but the whole damn place has become an avi zone. The wind was so strong last night we thought the roof might blow off the Inca Lodge.

As we blog, we are finally able to view the southern sky. Tomorrow will be worth the wait. Way uber we hope.

Big Domingo Carries Over

Sorry, but we are too tired to try to figure out getting some pics online. We have been skiing fresh pow since we got here. More terrain keeps opening. The chutes are steep, long and full of deep pow. There is a storm coming in tonight that may shut the whole place down. Maybe then we will get some pics up.

We rode the most insane lift on the planet today. You get a bigger adrenaline rush waiting in line than waiting above a chute that you are not sure if it cliffs out. It is a five man platter that slingshots up 1500 vert.

Shane McConkey is here. He is really good.

Como Esta Bitches

We made it to Portillo and the Made N's snow making capabilities work south of the equator as well. The travel went smoothly until we got to the bottom of the road with thirty switchbacks. It was closed due to white out conditions. Fuck The Sun! This almost made a long day longer. Fortunately our driver, who was just kicked out of Chile's top gun program, was hell bent on on getting us there, without chains, as fast as possible, in a rear wheel drive Mercedes bus. When the Chilean Army opened the road, we were third in line. Soon we were breaking trail. Maverick had to finally put chains on around turn 27, causing a trafic jam lasting the rest of the afternoon, and reclosing the road. It took us almost an hour to do the final three switchback which were only about one mile. Both lanes were full of ginormous semi's fishtailing on every turn. Maverick rode the center line. We made it to Hotel Portillo for lunch and an afternoon of white out POW! FTS baby!

Sunday, or Big Domingo, as the staff are now calling it, was uber sweet. It was tough to get our mind set out of the crack frenzy which ussually accompanies a powder morning, but we skied fresh until we could no longer stand. Pics will come, we are just waiting for some good light, and a reason to slow down. FTS!

They are expecting a meter of snow on Tuesday!

Shane McConkey is here!

How shall we get to Chile?

It's Thursday evening and the posse is about to begin our trek South. Although the Hardley gets great mileage, it only seats one. We have decided to fly! We will be traveling from Denver to Miami where we will be grounded for 10 hours. We plan to learn to speak Spanish during this layover. We may only learn enough to get through customs, or maybe enough to publish our next entry in Chile's native tounge. From Miami we will then embark on a nine hour flight to Santiago. Santiago, the greatest city in the world. It's a scientific fact, you know. Discovered by the Germans in 1896, it means a whale's vagina, or so we are told. From there we will either take a mule 90 miles straight up to Portillo, or possibly a minivan, as the mule might only seat one also.

Artificial Intelligence?

The Made N's are definitely not your typical ski. They seem to be aware. Today while being tuned they seemed to realize that although it was only August, they would soon be skiing. The skies darkened and a lightning storm rolled in causing the lights to go out in the tuning room. The Made N's don't need edges, they need deep pow. Did the Made N's summon the storm? Who knows for sure? All I know is that when they are ready to go, they find the deep stuff! My job is to point them and remain standing.

They might even be more powerful than the weather phenomenon El Nino.

Viva El Made N!

This here poor sap has no idea that in four months this area will be open for skiing. He really think's that the world is his own personal bathroom. What a friggin' jerk. Ahhh the simple six lettered word of skiing brings a huge smile to my face. It seems to have been so long, but in fact it really has only been 65? days. Instead of having to wait another 60 days the fts posse has decided to embark on a journey south of the equator, down to a land where they have winter during the summer months and they measure mountains in meters not feet. It is going to be truly rad. The posse is going to rip the shit out of some South American mountains and we really hope that all y'all will check back with us in the days and weeks to come to see how bitchin' our trip is going to be. Stay classy world.