Every year a movement is mobilised and a small group of elite athletes come to the snowy reaches of the Alps. They seek out the extreme and the challenging, the sort of thing that sends mere mortals into cold chills. The name of this band of wannabe heroes.....the W.W.S.
They came from far and wide, well London. The recon group consisted of Big D, solo, checking the lay of the land before Wally and Midshipman landed in Chamonix late Weds evening. They threw down an arrival note in Le Terrace that night, but perhaps their skills had been dulled over the years as there was some soreness the following morning. But, up early they were to check the hills, and action was found at the Grands Montets. Early conditions weren’t so good, a nasty wind, cloud and cold temps kept our trio at bay until they were spotted by Mr Glen Plake and a friendly guide who saw their fear and told them to “be brave my friends”. After that by all accounts it was a massacre, the powder never stood a chance, run after run they edged and whooped untill exhausted they stopped, it was after all very nearly lunch and there were W.W.S to be drunk. The afternoon was a blur of powdery fun, some of the best ever by all accounts. When spoken to that night they were full of glee, one of the first into battle that day and certainly the last to return, or so they say.
Day 2 of the conflict and reinforcements were needed, The Midshipman’s sister was called in. She charmed her way through the crowds waiting for the lift, walking straight to the front, flashing a smile, saying the boys were in need. With the team now four, nothing was safe and the W.W.S pounded and fought with the added advantage of having a girl in tow so that the Vin Chaud could be drunk with out any shame.
Day 3 dawned with cloud and haze but it was off into battle once again, only this time to Italy where the W.W.S is drunk with a splash of lemon. The Toula was the battle field and so it began, poor at first with Wally on foot (bloody boarders) untill the ladders, where Duckers showed fear and I dropped a ski. The wind was bitter, the snow was blown and the team thought that perhaps a bad choice was made. But, very shortly, the snow turned light and not so crusty, in fact it was white and quite a delight! So, the team manned up (and girled up) and pitch after pitch was skiied with grins upon faces. But, once again lunch did call (okay it was 2.30 this time) and the boys did need their W.W.S.
It was more a feast than lunch, with true Italian flair. To finish it off the grappa was drunk but all was okay as we missed the lift back to the top. The ski back down was a terrible thing with legs going one way and the body astray. Then off to The Pub for the day’s big match, England were stuffed by those red dragon men, but the boys didn’t care as the day had been won much earlier on the Italian white slopes.
Day 4 and time to complete the mission. Again just the three, and the location Le Tour. They bashed around the slopes pulling tail grabs to impress the dames (well Big D was...so I’m told) but all that was found was a final wee dram. And finally the mission came to a close, a roaring success, the mountains tamed, owned and slayed!
So you may ask, who are these team of heroic adventurers that you read about?
Alex and Simon the skiers of old, with their trusty snowboarding compadre with baggy ski pants. Wally’s his name and he is very cool (well lets face it anyone might be compared to the two), but what sets them apart is the simplest thing....team W.W.S, the gayest task force in the Cham village. We look forward to their return, swift and savage, displaying both strength and honour and brandishing thier own mixers. Boys, its business time!
Picture from the top
1) Boys taking in some WWS
2) Simon ripping the Toula
3)Big D doing what he does best
4)Big D Vs Le Toula....guess who won (see picture 3)
5) The boys!!
Every year a movement is mobilised and a small group of elite athletes come to the snowy reaches of the Alps. They seek out the extreme and the challenging, the sort of thing that sends mere mortals into cold chills. The name of this band of wannabe heroes.....the W.W.S.
They came from far and wide, well London. The recon group consisted of Big D, solo, checking the lay of the land before Wally and Midshipman landed in Chamonix late Weds evening. They threw down an arrival note in Le Terrace that night, but perhaps their skills had been dulled over the years as there was some soreness the following morning. But, up early they were to check the hills, and action was found at the Grands Montets. Early conditions weren’t so good, a nasty wind, cloud and cold temps kept our trio at bay until they were spotted by Mr Glen Plake and a friendly guide who saw their fear and told them to “be brave my friends”. After that by all accounts it was a massacre, the powder never stood a chance, run after run they edged and whooped untill exhausted they stopped, it was after all very nearly lunch and there were W.W.S to be drunk. The afternoon was a blur of powdery fun, some of the best ever by all accounts. When spoken to that night they were full of glee, one of the first into battle that day and certainly the last to return, or so they say.
Day 2 of the conflict and reinforcements were needed, The Midshipman’s sister was called in. She charmed her way through the crowds waiting for the lift, walking straight to the front, flashing a smile, saying the boys were in need. With the team now four, nothing was safe and the W.W.S pounded and fought with the added advantage of having a girl in tow so that the Vin Chaud could be drunk with out any shame.
Day 3 dawned with cloud and haze but it was off into battle once again, only this time to Italy where the W.W.S is drunk with a splash of lemon. The Toula was the battle field and so it began, poor at first with Wally on foot (bloody boarders) untill the ladders, where Duckers showed fear and I dropped a ski. The wind was bitter, the snow was blown and the team thought that perhaps a bad choice was made. But, very shortly, the snow turned light and not so crusty, in fact it was white and quite a delight! So, the team manned up (and girled up) and pitch after pitch was skiied with grins upon faces. But, once again lunch did call (okay it was 2.30 this time) and the boys did need their W.W.S.
It was more a feast than lunch, with true Italian flair. To finish it off the grappa was drunk but all was okay as we missed the lift back to the top. The ski back down was a terrible thing with legs going one way and the body astray. Then off to The Pub for the day’s big match, England were stuffed by those red dragon men, but the boys didn’t care as the day had been won much earlier on the Italian white slopes.
Day 4 and time to complete the mission. Again just the three, and the location Le Tour. They bashed around the slopes pulling tail grabs to impress the dames (well Big D was...so I’m told) but all that was found was a final wee dram. And finally the mission came to a close, a roaring success, the mountains tamed, owned and slayed!
So you may ask, who are these team of heroic adventurers that you read about?
Alex and Simon the skiers of old, with their trusty snowboarding compadre with baggy ski pants. Wally’s his name and he is very cool (well lets face it anyone might be compared to the two), but what sets them apart is the simplest thing....team W.W.S, the gayest task force in the Cham village. We look forward to their return, swift and savage, displaying both strength and honour and brandishing thier own mixers. Boys, its business time!
Picture from the top
1) Boys taking in some WWS
2) Simon ripping the Toula
3)Big D doing what he does best
4)Big D Vs Le Toula....guess who won (see picture 3)
5) The boys!!
