Pain

The following is from my 'Blue Nails' blog.

Got my skis waxed the other day, something that I’d been meaning to do for the last ages, but had been putting it off a) because it costs anywhere between 10-20€ to get them done properly – which seeing it in writing doesn’t seem like that much, but that could equate to 2-3 days on the road once I get back to travelling – and b) because I wasn’t entirely sure how much difference it would make to the skis.  In the end I got a good deal on the whole thing through a friend of a friend who also sharpened the edges for me.

Did it make a difference?  Hell yes.  Didn’t get to go out on them until Monday morning before work at 12, and moving around was so much easier, especially on the flat where previously I struggled to move forward as I grated my dried out ski’s across the snow.  Generally speaking a skier should have a lot easier time on the flat than a snowboarder should as they have their poles to push themselves along with, as well as skating along, pushing forward on one ski then the other to pick up some speed.  So when I was struggling to keep up with all the boarders I should have been thinking that something was wrong.  Now I was burning ahead and loving it.

Monday morning wasn’t an especially fantastic morning snow-wise.  In fact it hadn’t really snowed for two days, and on top of that Sunday had been quite sunny, melting the surface layers of snow which then froze overnight.  The resulting iciness made it less fun to go between the trees, where you can usually find powder snow if there is any to be found, but which was now tracked out, bumpy and unforgiving.  So we hit the snow park.

Up to this time I had been cautiously(ish) introducing myself to the park, doing a few jumps.  Nothing fancy, just trying to go straight over them, land with my skis underneath me and hopefully not end up in a tangled mess.  I’d been doing alright, and although I had fallen a few times I had avoided injury.  So I thought nothing of giving it a go today.

What I hadn’t realised was quite how much the waxing would influence speed I could build up on the short run up to the jump.  It was only as I was going up the ramp, really, that I thought I might be in a bit of trouble.

Now, I haven’t seen many professional skiers up close, but from what I’ve gleaned from the videos they play on a loop in most of the bars around here is that your ass shouldn’t stick out and your skis shouldn’t be pointing towards the sky, but more in line with the down ramp at the other side of the jump.  Waving your arms in mad circles (“rolling down the windows” as it’s been dubbed) isn’t very slick either.  Also I’m pretty sure the pros don’t scream “shitshitshit” as they shoot through the air. 

My skis did land first, just at the end of the down-ramp which I had thought I was going to overshoot altogether, but as I was leaning too far back I ended up slapping myself off the ice in a rapid lower-back, upper-back, head, arms combo.  It was one of the times where I was really grateful that I’d listened to the advice I'd been given and invested in a helmet at the start of the year.  Didn’t feel fantastic after it, but I did walk away, after fetching my ski pole which had come off somewhere between my first and second bounce.

Stayed out a while longer, and tried to do a box (like a rail, but much wider) which I a few weeks before I'd worked at sliding along sideways, but once again I failed to realise how much faster I would be going into it and ended up with both skis flying out from underneath me and skidding on my side all the way to the end.  Not my smoothest day at the park ever it must be said.

Afterwards I was a bit stiff and sore, and a bit stiffer and sorer yesterday, with the most tender parts being my lower legs with significant bruising (not visibly but it’s there, believe me) on my shins from the boots.  Went to bed last night at about 1am (after our sad elimination from the darts tournament, but more on that later) and then woke at 3:30 to a dull but insistent aching in my lower back and legs which kept me awake for an hour before I decided bed wasn’t getting me anywhere, so I might as well come down and do something productive.  So here we are.  It seems to have subsided a bit now, but I’m going to pass on the morning’s skiing that I had planned, which is particularly gutting as it has been puking down with beautiful fresh pow all night.  I might try to get back to sleep before I have to work at three.

As for darts, The Soaring Arrows, our team which had made its way to the semi-finals played our last game of the league yesterday after battling it out for the last thirteen or so weeks.  We threw some pretty amazing darts over the last few weeks, guys, and pulled some wins out of nowhere, clawing our way back from seemingly impossible point differences, smashing bullseyes and our seemingly unstoppable run of paralysers was great while it lasted.  Cheers.  And best of luck to Patong Dart Show in their match against D.A.R.T. tonight.

That’s all from me for now, although here is a video of one of my first jumps which I was pretty proud of although it's nothing really spectacular, sadly I didn’t get to immortalise my last one, but what can you do.  Sorry for the long intro as well.

Also the lastest KMonster blog is up on youtube.  He’s doing backflips now.  Epic.

Approaching Winter

The following is taken from my 'Blue Nails' blog.

As I mentioned in the last lengthy post, the first snow fell in Niseko last week. On the evening of the same day, it also fell here in the city, and so I got a little taste of what the place will be like during the winter. Bloody cold, that’s what.

I also got an idea of how the snow effects city life.

First of all, on the main streets the snow is cleared away from the footpaths, but in the smaller areas, like where I live, it builds up. Added to this, the snow ploughs heap snow from the road up against the pavements.

This all has the effect of making cycling pretty dicey, especially when one has no intention of investing in snow tyres.

Obviously, I no longer cycled on the road, as this would have invited quite serious injury or death, and, to tell the truth, I’m fairly certain that I can injure myself quite sufficiently on the footpaths that haven’t been cleared. The two outings that I made when the snow was prevalent were both undertaken with plenty of time to spare, and were more for research on the effect of the snow on one’s ability to stay upright on the bicycle than to get to work in a huge hurry. The intelligence gathered from these expeditions will hopefully have given me enough knowledge of the white menace to avoid any mishaps in the event of another fall.

So far this is what I’ve learned:

• Do not try cycling through snow while negotiating a turn
• Dismount in areas where the pavement slopes from left to right, or visa versa, i.e. in any other direction than the direction you are cycling.
• High speeds should be avoided, as should sudden changes in direction. Ramming snowdrifts is also ill-advised, though it may seem fun.
• Do not attempt to pedal from a standstill when the back tire is in snow – especially at pedestrian crossings and ESPECIALLY when there is a man in a suit standing behind you – to avoid wheel spin and resulting back spray.
• Brake in plenty of time.
• Cycling slowly is still faster than walking.

As for the apartment, it has, unsurprisingly, become increasingly cold along with the weather. The stove still heats the living room nicely, although I’m running low on paraffin for it now, and I don’t know where to get more yet. The bedroom, however, is generally freezing. It had been the case that with several layers of blankets heaped up on top of me I was quite cosy, and changing at bedtime and getting into bed were the only issues. However when the snow fell even the bed was no haven of warmth against the chill. Last night I completed my migration into the living room, and from now on I only make brief polar forays into the other part of the house for clothes and such.

It’s not so bad though, as I have less than a month to go before I move to the ski resort, where I’ll be on proper wages (with a meal or two per shift), living in a warm house (albeit shared) with an internet connection, and snowboarding to my heart’s content (that is if I ever get around to buying a board).

Also, decided to try the internet in park outside my house again, and it's back working! My luck is still in!

Park Life

Apart from the general problem of deteriorating weather conditions, I have to say that I quite enjoy my trips to the park to use the internet. Granted that occasionally, as today, it proves difficult to connect, but even so sitting out in the open air on my bench is more refreshing than being stuck inside my dirty house (which I really need to clean). It also gives me a chance to peer over the screen occasionally and see the weird and the wonderful people that frequent the area, things I’d likely miss if I didn’t come here so regularly.

Let’s begin with the folks that would show up on a regular basis in my old park, which was kind of out of the way and not right beside the main road as my new one is. Its secluded nature seemed to make it more hospitable for weirdoes (I mean more weird than people who sit in the park with a laptop for ages, often bringing their own chair), like ‘America numba waaaan’ man, that I mentioned in a previous post. There was also the odd homeless looking chap that came in the mornings and patted the tree for twenty minutes. It was always the same tree, the one that doesn’t grow straight like the others, but at about waist-height bends about 90° for twenty centimetres or so, before resuming with its upward journey. It was always this horizontal section that received his attention. After carefully considering the situation, and conferring with others, it has been decided that there are a choice of two likely conclusions, the first being that he’s a little bit strange and after some searching found this tree with a flat bit that’s nice to pat or, a second, and perhaps more impressive inference, would be that this has been a long term project for many years, beginning with a normal tree, which, through careful and regular patting has developed this strange shape. What the intended outcome of the second option could possibly be, I have yet to find out, but I wonder how he would react if he were to find me patting the underside of the tree one morning…

On one occasion when passing through I saw a girl with a white rabbit on a leash, taking it for a walk. A new concept for me. As all the rabbit does is hop a bit in one direction and stop and do that nose twitching thing that rabbits do so well, and then hop in another direction and stop again, I can’t imagine it being too stimulating for the person walking it…unless a loose dog spots it. Then things might get a little bit interesting.

The new park on the other hand has so far proved to be free from crazies and drunks, at least during normal park hours (morning to about 21:00). It does, however, give me the opportunity to see what the latest fashion is for dogs. Small dogs are quite popular in Japan as they’re easier to keep in the small living environment that is the typical city apartment, and people like to dress them up and take them out for walkies. To be honest most of the ones I’ve seen here have been in functional wear, harnesses that attach to the lead but also have some sort of cartoon character or motif on them. Elsewhere, on the other hand, I have seen canines in rain jackets, pants and t-shirts. Why, I ask you!

The other night, while chatting on Skype, I looked around to look for the source of a trundling sound coming across the park, and my eyes fell upon a dog that had evidently had its spine broken, as its back legs were suspended in a frame and rolled along on wheels behind him as his owner walked him through the park. He was also wearing a nappy (the dog, not the owner as far as I could tell) to prevent making a mess, I suppose. He didn’t look too put out by his condition, although I can’t imagine how they bed him down for the night.

Finally I’ve also seen several miniature varieties of bigger dogs in my travels, including a miniature grey hound, and a miniature collie, both about a foot and a half high, but proportionally the same as their larger counterparts. It can be a bizarre country.