Big White is AWESOME! Big White Ski School.

So I said to Michael J "Do you read my blog?"
"No, I don't read…" ah yes…

He finished the sentence with some other words... but I already had my quote...

So… Ski School.
It all started when I was in the army, Germany… Osnabruck to be precise. My roommate Daz (we have a lot of abbreviated names ending in Z in the army - Daz, Woz, Loz, Shez, Moz, Doz… it is not cos we are louts who cannot enunciate our words… it helps with security… yes it does… yes... it does).

Sorry, sidetracked. Daz was on the Regimental Alpine Ski Team. Every year the regiment sent a team of 8 to various ski resorts train and compete in the Army winter games. I wanted to be on the team…

Well who wouldn't - free accommodation, equipment (except boots and clothes), food, extra pay… And world class ski instruction - we had race instructors from the Austrian Alpine C' Team.

8 weeks… and you are paying me extra? Er… yes please captain. We stayed at Anne-Marie's house - perfect massive Austrian shot-putter, type woman - we loved her. She was a world champion sledder (more weight than aero-dynamic advantage me thinks… and yes apparently there is such a thing). 

Now, there was one slight obstacle… I had never been on snow… ever… Yes we had snow in Wigan, yes I made a sled out a truck's mud-guard, yes we went sledding (mud-guarding) at the old mine… Now if you are coming to the conclusion that I grew up poor you would be wrong… we couldn't afford to be poor, we were envious of all the poor kids and the stuff they had like clothes, food, heat and education…

Anyway I was not on the team… yet… a week before the teams departure, one guy dropped out. Instantly I marched to the (very busy) ski team officer's office… "Sir, I want to join the ski team."
He asked me one question and it was an important question (for me) "Have you ever skied before?"
"Yes Sir."
"Okay, you will need… da da da and da"
"No problem Sir."
"We leave on… da da"

And that was that, I was on the Regimental Alpine Ski Team. "Hey wait a minute, you have never skied…" Well… technically it was not a lie… and I was only asked one question… not how much… or what type… 

Lets go back in time a bit, 33 years… "When ah wuz a lad o' 12 (Lancashire accent here please… it's a bit like a Yorkshire accent but less expensive) grewin up wi art clothes an stuff…" I did two hours of grass skiing… 12 and on grass - a kind of tracked boot. So... not really a lie... more of an omission captain... - but army training - direct and to the point, Sir!

By the time Captain Harry (Haz - for security reasons…) found out, we were in Austria, and it was too late… "Just how much skiing have you done Sapper…?" 
"Er… well, you see sir…" Haz came from a wealthy upper class background… but I liked him anyway.

I fell in love with skiing, it was the only sport (bar squash) for which I had any passion - and that was day one! By the end of the first week I was claiming I was gonna crush my team-mates. And you know what? Yes! I failed... in epic style. But I was hooked. I crashed lots… Lots! My first pair of boots lasted exactly 6 days… but hooked!

And it was not like Big White where you step out your door, clip on your skis and go… No, our village (Fulpmes) was 40 mins drive from the bottom of the mountain, a 30 min line-up to get on the gondola, and then a 30 minute gondola ride to the ski area… Good god man, how long!? And the same going back (but in reverse - I know, I know, but there is a chance Paul is reading…) basically 5 hours of travel and 6 hours of skiing. And you wonder why I think Big White is Awesome?

It was quite nice tho

This is a pic I didn't take on a day I wasn't there.

Get on with it dude… 
Okay, Big White Ski School... It is AWESOME!

Wait… what…? You want more, but, I have written tons already…

Oh, okay… 

That was 25 years ago, when skis were straight, and long… Anyway when I arrived at BW I thought I could ski. I could, kinda. Yes I could get down the mountain, yes I could turn - parallel slide right, parallel slide left... and repeat… gud ah wer...

Bumps? No.
Powder? No.
Trees? No.
Center Balance? No.
Challenging terrain? No.
Flailing arms…? Yes, I could do those.

Groomed runs? Yes, I could slide those. And Big White provide those in abundance… actually it is the groomer guys… three cheers for them, woohoo! And er… sorry about my dog and… thanks for not 'grooming' him… we will take him to Pet Smart… 

So... I was supposed to have a meeting with the head of ski school - Josh Foster… Josh is a funny guy, he kept me waiting... and waiting... and waiting… after a hour and despite the fun laughing at the joke, I had to leave... Instead I spoke to Blake who is so much nicer than Josh. Unlike Josh I find Blake intelligent, articulate, erudite, far better looking and is occasionally naked… in bars people, in bars… what is wrong with you guys...

Ok - ski levels. 
Big White has 7, level 4 ski instructors. Do you know how long it takes to become level 4? FOREVER! Longer than a doctor! And the pay is way, way less. And even worse, you cannot self medicate… Boo! Luckily for me I did not become a doctor, or a ski instructor - instead I started a land development company… and lost everything… yay...

And level 3…? I have no idea… my research budget is not that high, most of the stuff I make up anyway. But Big White has a higher ratio of level 4 instructors than Whistler! (made that bit up too… not really, it is true).

But the point is Ski School game me so much mountain - and there are lots of instructors.

So, go take advantage of the highly qualified, highly experienced ski instructors at Big White - they don't do it to get rich, they do it because they love to ski…!

Is that good enough Michael? Can I have my pass back now?

Pitch-
Sólido Properties lives, owns, rents, manages property, ski (better now) and loves living at Big White. And for those looking for a place to stay this (2013/14) season… we have nothing left. But contact us anyway and we can provide personalized message telling you "not a chance..."

Big White is AWESOME! YUM! And Cos the people 6… Lakatie...

Official Sport of the Blarney Stone.

I played squash last night… did you know it is the new preferred sport of the Blarney Stone? True!

It used to be that Irish Sport (and no not Irish as in Paul Irish… smart Irish) Hurling… Yes, it is a famous sport… fourteen people play it… twice a decade… if it is sunny. Did you know it only rains twice a year in Ireland? Jan to June and July to December. True.

Actually one of the reasons Hurling is so difficult to play is the equipment… you have to be sober to create a stick - can you imagine cutting these angles drunk…?

And another interesting and lessor known fact - Hurling was invented by Lululemon…!


So Yum!

Invented by Lululemon.

I am in the Blarney Stone… wait... let me back up a little… bit more… further...

…Ok. Last night I played the Blarney Stone sport - Squash. I drove all the way to Penticton (in the snow) at dark-o-clock to play a match… two hours there, two hours back… all for a 5 game match. Well, five games if I had managed to win... or get a game... or two… it was a three game match… cos I got my ass-kicked 3-0…


Actually, last night, my shots were very accurate. This is a squash court… do you see the tin (it says Tin on it)? Well, the front wall covers an area of roughly 300 sq ft. The Tin  - 27 sq ft (ish). Well my accuracy was so good that I was able to consistently hit the tin... more than the front wall anyway… and a travel bonus, there was still 10 minutes of the day left when I got home.



Anyhoo… with squash being the best all-round, most physically demanding and mentally challenging (my blog, my opinion) sport in the world… I worked really really really hard... at having my ass kicked... really hard! This means I burned millions of calories, (two million actually) which needed to be replenished, therefore it is why I am at the Blarney Stone… eating breakfast - the most important meal of the day.

And the breakfast is YUM! Look at that - even with my iPhone pic it looks good!

My wife said bring home the leftovers… wait… what…? "You won't eat it all!" She was right… I had to leave that piece of bacon… look close… closer… top right hand corner of the plate (I know it is round), there you go.

Research...

And by the time I had finished, it was after twelve… somewhere... and being an Irish pub (Tavern) I thought it wouldn't be right if I passed on desert… Of course for research reasons only…

So yes, breakfast at the Blarney Stone is Yum!!! (Yes, triple emphasis - it is that good) and dare I say it… Big White good… Ka-pow(der)! Did you like that play on words Michael J? …No you can't use it.

But Captain…
What about the people?
Ah yes, thanks for reminding me.

Lakatie Nakia is a people… I think… (actually the correct spelling is Likadiaphant (but she does not know this yet)

Despite everything I am Lakatie's fourth favourite person on the mountain… named Chris… who is bald… with a beard… born on Christmas Day… Yes! Fourth! She said so herself! She also mentioned that she is accepting applications for people to become acquaintances - please contact Likatie if -

• Your name is Chris
• You are bald.
• You have a beard.
• Was born on Christmas day and…
• Live at Big White…

She is looking for three people.

Lakatie also has some isms… they are so cute you just want to chop her up into little pieces sometimes…

• On meeting my wife she opened the conversation with "… you are old…" Ha! Good one! Susan laughed until she cried… well, without any of the laughing bits.
• On seeing us for the first time this season she starts with "Hi… I didn't know you guys were still married…" Classic!

Yum…! Almost as good as breakfast.

For a while there were some ugly rumours circulating and recently it was confirmed - Lakatie is a Zombi (is that generic plural/masculine? Is singular feminine, zomba?) 

Regardless, photographic evidence has been secretly sourced… Stay away from Lakatie if you want to keep your brains on the unexposed and preferred side of your ear… 

Another Victim is Captured...

Off course I could be wrong… (I have know to be wrong, ask my (still current Lakatie) wife) Lakatie is studying Sex and Violence against women… so these pics could just be innocent academic research.

Anyway… next week we will be exploring the exotic life of a pebble… 

Sólido Properties owns, manages, rents, chases delinquent tenants, writes a crappy blog, makes stuff up for personal amusement and has great, but skis poorly, at Big White… And is Lakatie's fourth favourite… eh?

Big White is AWESOME! Brad, Or Braddles… or Cuddles...

Cuddles has been doing a bit of work for me recently - and I have to flag up that his work is AWESOME! Who cares that is took 16 days for 4

Yes… look at my giant hand.

hours work… the important thing is the work is now complete and the quality of excuse(s) provided were second to none…

Day one -
No Cuddles - dunno, just didn't arrive.

Day two
Shit mate, I forgot to set my alarm… Of course home at 5am may have affected Cuddles's ability to push a button… 

Day three
"… 8am?" he says. "Coffee is on" I say… Cuddles goes riding... "What if I do Wednesday, Thursday and Friday morning? I'll be finished by the weekend" He says...

Day four
Cuddles arrives on time… well almost... within two hours of the expected time…

Day five…
Cuddles arrives on time, well only 55 mins late… things are improving!

Day six…
No Cuddles… things are not improving...

Day seven…
"I am still coming round this morning, but it may be 9:30-10."
At 10 I get, "gonna be a bit longer… 11-11:30… if u r home…" Or 12:30… works… we don't mind waiting… it is not like we have kids, or businesses to run…

Day eight…
Ah… no Cuddles… 

Day nine…
2.5 hours after the scheduled arrival… the 'excuse' arrives "had a late night last night mate, had a bit of a sleep in…"

How does this work?

Day ten…
"F*** man I'm hopeless. Yer didn't set my alarm…" (not sure what 'Yer' means - could be Aussie slang, like 'Heaps') Damn those elusive buttons...

Day eleven…
We are now playing Cuddles Roulette… Is he coming, is he late, did he set his alarm, did he get drunk, did he work late, is there powder… will he recycle another excuse… 

8:16 Cuddles - "I am out of bed and well slept…"
9:25 Cuddles - "I'll be there in 5…"
10:15 Cuddles arrives… good job he slept well…

Day 12
No Cuddles but a… "Definitely tomoro mate…" Wait, what… no excuse…? Note* I think 'tomoro' is the Australian for tomorrow… Criminal! (He! he! he! he!)

Day 13
Following on from yesterdays "Definitely tomoro…" We have at 8:43 "wouldn't mind sneaking a ride in this morning if I have time…" At 8:43 remember… at 11:54 a mere three hours later, I get "I'll be a bit later than noon, only just got out…" really…? 
Cuddles arrives… 3pm (ish)

Day 14
At 3:45pm (PM!) Cuddles sends me a text to tell me he is unreliable… to 'tell' me? Glad we sorted that one out...

But I did get a "I'll be there tomoro. If my 'Word' still means anything to you."

Oooh! Serious Cuddles… Back to roulette… will Cuddles arrive? And on time?

Day 15
9:57am… "Will someone be home around 10:45 - 11?" Yes… Will you…? No… really?

Day 16
...Finished! 

So soon?

Actually Brad did an AWESOME! job. Thanks Brad!

The cheque is in the mail… I mean, I will bring you cash… when I get paid… I meant paid next month… I have to go to the bank… machine… in Sam's… oops I seem to have misplaced all my money... at the bar… can I give you a cheque?

Sólido Properties rents, manages, owns property… and listens empathetically to crappy excuses… 

Big White is AWESOME! Day Four...

Day Four… mountain has been open four days… an excellent start to the ski season with how much snow…? Er lots Captain.

Day one… woke up, was gonna ski, cleared drive instead. Waved at snow plough.

Day two… woke up, was gonna ski, cleared drive instead. Watched snow plough fill in my drive… cleared snow again.

Day three… woke up, took kids to school, cleared drive. Went into town, came home to find the plough had been… and f***** up my drive again. Stayed up late, cleared snow.

Day four… fresh powder again… yippee… :( didn't have time to clear drive. Snow plough came anyway… twice… been clearing snow for the last four hours. Just watching it snow… again… Buying a gun tomorrow.

Big White is AWESOME! Chickens and Cats… and Dogs

There is a new family coming to the mountain (yay!) cos their house burned down (booo!), they have kids (yay!) and a chicken… (what…?) and two dogs (yay!) they play tennis (booo!)

Tennis is the sport where you need boys to go fetch balls… and in a game you have six or seven of these boys (when I say boys I mean girls too) rubbish! You've seen it on TV? Too many umpires, too many ball boys, too many balls and way too much grunting - it is not wrestling… I think golfers should grunt.

Now squash… that is an elegant sport, one ball, no ball boys, and much faster than tennis… yes it is! Yes it is!!! Yes… it is.

Top speed in tennis is what 42 mph…? Ok, I know Samuel Groth 163.4 mph… yes ok, it is pretty fast…

But Squash… 178mph, and an average speed of 151 mph in a high level match… 15 mph faster than tennis… And squash is the sport that will burn more calories than any other racquet sport, and will get you fitter quicker… yes… or it will give you a coronary - but more fun than shovelling snow (popular in the heart attack community…) And you don't have to walk two miles to get the ball… and the ball is only 39.5mm in diameter… tennis balls 3 feet in diameter - how can you miss those?

And continuing with my off-topic diatribe - apparently I am in the age zone for heart attacks - being closer to 40 than 30… (alright, I am 45… but still closer to 40 than 30!) soooo Jenni Jenni Jenni, it is why I exercise and play squash, so there; go and hang some clothes on your treadmill...

Okay - Cats.
Don't like em, they are not friendly, they are not cuddly, they only greet you when they want something - food. They poop in the house, they slink around like slinky things, and I am allergic to them…

One of my tenants has a cat… the owner said 'yes you can have a cat' so they went out and bought a cat… and another cat. Two cats! Wait, what..? You didn't need me to do the math…? Now the good thing about cats…

• They made great guard dogs… no sorry my mistake, that's dogs.
• They are always glad to see you… er no sorry, dogs again.
• Make great hiking companions… oh, er yes dogs again.
• Are loyal… Ha.
• Are friendly… No.
• Are obedient… whatever.
• Make great rugs/coats… yes I said it. Nobody walks around in a luxury fur jacket made of dog...

And what happens when you go to someones house and you see a dog? You say 'hey buddy, how you doin…?' And the dog comes up and greets you, smells your crotch, slobbers on your hand etc etc. But! When you see a cat you say 'Is that a... cat…?' in the same way you would say 'is that a... slug…? In my salad…!?' It is true. And… you keep an eye on that slinky, yes you do. You watch it slink around cos you know subconsciously it is planning your demise - true.

I looked after a friends cat one time, and this was a regular cat - i.e. pissed off… or Scottish. It would attack if near. Now my friends went on vacation and I was tasked with feeding said cat. After a week the cat stopped attacking me, (give a Scot a beer…) after 10 days I could pet it, after the full two weeks it would greet me and be 'all rubbing up to me' in the kind of way you would find creepy, if it was your uncle… or Al Reid. Great! I thought, I have made friends with the attack cat.

My friends came back and the next day I went to see them and my new feline friend… or not  apparently… the original food source had returned and I had been demoted back down to thing to be disdained... or scratched (take beer away from a Scot). 

Now Chickens.
More precisely and coming full circle to the new people coming to big white, a chicken. Or their chicken, or their chicken named Serena (after the slow hitting tennis player (128.6 mph)).

Tennis or Chicken… the hair, look at the hair.

Serena started out as a meat chicken (this was way before the tennis thing) but she was scrawny - not a good thing, if you want to end up as someones chicken vindaloo... All the other tennis players would bully Serena, and she would not eat much food... One of the children took a shine to Serena and when it came to the day of reckoning, Serena was gone…! Hidden away from the thing that converts chickens into… yes, chicken… (tastes like cats).

Now with all those bullying tennis players gone, Serena thrived, to become the chicken she is today; became very friendly, very social - a part of the family... Serena made a nest in a little dog carrier thing - you know the plastic ones with the metal grate - and…  did I mention the fire thing… on returning to their house cinders, the family found the crate was but a blob of plastic/metal grate...

Eh eh?

ooh ooh ooh… tangent. The fire apparently started at the bbq, on the deck… now imagine being a broiler chicken, escaping the hatchet man, only to end up being roasted alive in a fire... caused by a bbq… what are the odds? Give Serena a lottery ticket...

However Serena had no intention of ending up as bbq'd chicken… …the story did not end, Serena did not go to the big tennis court in the sky. Serena did get a little 'crispy' in some feather areas… but escaped the toasty tomb… and is now happily strutting her stuff on a Belgo farm… probably dodging coyotes…

Sólido Properties rents, manages, and owns property, drinks beer, buys beer for tenants (hold on Chrissy it is coming), abuses people, takes advantage of a blog to further its own means and a whole bunch of other stuff that I can't think of right now… Oh, and thinks Big White is AWESOME!

Big White is AWESOME! November.

Hi Guys,
Someone mentioned to me today that they miss my blog, and why have I not been blogging?

As Nooner said - Busy, busy, busy… it is that time of year. Businesses are getting ready for the season start, snow is falling, seasonal staff are arriving, Sam's is busy serving beer to seasonal staff. So to keep Wendy happy, here is a little something to tide everyone over.

Snow!
How awesome is this! Three feet in a week!!! I phoned my buddy up this morning and said 'Hey, Pete dude. Tons of snow man, open the hill why don't you…?" And good old Pete, he said, "What? Who is this?" I know he was just joking cos the next thing you know November 16th is the new opening date… Yes, yes, I know, please, it was nothing... but you are Welcome… I quite like the Tree Brewing Vertical Winter Ale… if you are asking...

But you know all the business on the mountain are now going "WTF, we are not ready… Ahhh…!" But on the other side the seasonal staff are now saying "Thank-f***, we can now pay our rent… lets go out and celebrate… Yaaayyy!"

Not my renters of course, my renters are at home… cleaning. 

Actually talking of renters, this week I took a bunch of beer round to my tenants - some of them were very confused… 'What, wait, you are giving us beer? For free…? Beer...? Free…? Really…? Free…?' I was giving them beer, and it was free - it was kind of a welcome to Big White, thanks for the business, please don't trash the place and have wild parties kind of thing. Great! One group celebrated by having a noisy hot tub party in the middle of the night - bad tenants, no-more beer for you!

So, let me tell you about my girl. Kassie - she works for me, and she is AWESOME! In the Big White kind of way… yes! She is that good! But don't tell her, she will want a pay raise. Anyway (and I have to tread a little careful here, cos of wifey) did I ever get lucky, and boys on the mountain - Kassie is cute. Yes… blonde, has eyes (I don't know what colour, probably blue, or grey, or whatever) is 21, healthy (well, has all her teeth...) And... and... and… is single! Yes, unattached - no-one, nada, niente, nesnam nema nishta dobra in her life… (it is Croatian for no, never, nothing good). I don't know... I was trying to think of something that alliterates with the other words… stop asking questions, just go with the flow.

So boys, when I was your ages I did not have a clue about girls… not a clue. I had to find out the hard way that girls don't like drunken, leary, fally over, slurry word louts. Yeah...! I was surprised too! 

What has this got to do with anything…? Kassie - the way to Kassie's heart is through her boss! Yes! Bring him beer… Actually, I have no idea, but she likes dogs, is learning to snowboard, and used to like going to the gym… couple of options for you... take your dog snowboarding instead of the gym… and you are in!

Anyhoo, that is it from me today, good luck and good night.

Big White is AWESOME! Soccer...

At the school, yes - Big White school! It was AWESOME!

It started with Jude... I coach a bunch of kids - her son Owen is one of them. Jude thought I did such a great job that she bought me a coffee! Yay...! And she suggested I coach a group of Big White Ladies. Boo...!

"Yeah... sure..." I answer… it is the kind of answer that really means "What!? Are you mad, me? Ladies? Me? No… no... no… I don't think so". But she was not listening.

And I am not a soccer coach... yes I am English... yes I have played a little bit of soccer... no I am not a soccer coach... okay I coach 8/9/10 year old boys. But do you know how to coach 10 year old boys? You give them a ball and say "Go!" Then guide - loudly... "not him... he is on your team..." "don't use your hands..." "that is the wrong way…", "yes, you can go pee..." Easy.

Do you know how to coach Ladies…? On a soccer team...?

Me neither… good god man, they have had 20 years experience training men… each...! I don't stand a chance.

Last week, despite my (futile) attempt to resist, I agreed to the first session… on the day, they only had four players. They needed more; where can you find a group of healthy, active, keen, happy, not time constrained players… yes, correct, at the school... 

So... we held the first, international, co-ed, high altitude, inter-generational, flexible rules, Big White soccer championship - also known as 'a game'. It was chaos. But who cares, it was Fun!

By game time we had two dads and six middle aged ladies. Being middle aged… health and fitness fall into a varying range of priorities… from high (zero participants) to low - somewhere below wine, shopping, other stuff they do in the house - TV and giving husbands a hard time (what!? - don't give me a hard time… we're not married!)…


And on the kids team we had 16 young, flexible, eager, agile, trained, energetic kids; accustomed to high altitude, high intensity activities… whose priorities revolve around sugar, chasing each other, electronics, sugar, and er… sugar.

Anyhoo… it was a close fought match and after 60 minutes of uncontrolled, uncoordinated, unsafe, variable rule gameplay, the youngsters won the day 7 goals to 6.







Notable plays - 
Jude - great speed to the ball… soon we will work on what to do when you get to it.
Jolene - great physical presence... remember to play the ball, not the 7 year old…
Joy - great great enthusiastic play… but jeans…?
Miranda - that was the best tumble I have seen, well the best that didn't end at the ER.

Next time… rugby.

Big White is AWESOME! More on Rentals...

What... Really...? Boring...

Yeah well...

I spent quite a bit of time yesterday corresponding with a concerned tenant - not my tenant. He was wondering about landlord's right to enter a rented property. 

Property Rentals are guided by the BC Rental Tenancy Act. The Act is designed to protect the interests of both the owner/landlord and the tenant, in a balanced and unbiased manner.

Big White is a little unusual, rental periods seldom last longer than 6 months for seasonal staff and (and this is a big and) seasonal staff have a reputation for being hard on property, noisy, disrespectful, late paying, leaving early... etc. etc.

Most are great, but... One person can create a lot of damage so landlords are sensitive and try to protect themselves.

So for tenants-

• Try and ensure all expectations are managed from the beginning.
• Find out what the landlords expectations are regarding access.*
• Always ask for receipt of payment or pay electronically.
• Ask where the damage deposit is held - a reputable company will hold it in a separate account.
• Do a walkthrough with the landlord - take pics and point out any damages. Follow up with an email to your landlord noting the damage and including the pics.
• Ask for a inventory list, check it.
• Ask for a contact number for emergencies.
• Stay in contact with your landlord.
• Inform him of any issues.
• Inform him/her if you have friends coming to stay - this is a courtesy.
• Respect the Property
• Don't create friction with neighbours
• Don't have parties every night.
• Don't be continuously noisy.
• Don't have a mess outside the property.
• Don't damage the property.
• Return the property in the condition you rented it - cleaned.
• Don't leave all the heaters on, fireplace on, fridge open and all the windows open.
• Respect the agreement.
• Pay your rent on time - don't wait for the landlord to ask. His/her mortgage gets paid regardless, his strata fees, his utilities etc etc.
• Don't have 8 people in a place designed and agreed for four.

Wear and tear is expected, items break down, your landlord should replace or repair broken appliances. If the 12 year old fridge stops working - it is probably not your fault... unless you chucked it off the balcony. 

If you follow these guidelines you should have few problems.

*Note: It is illegal for a landlord to enter a property without 30 days max to 24 hours minimum notice. Notifying any of the tenants counts as notice, access written into the agreement on specific periods is notice. 

Sólido Properties Ltd owns, manages, rents and operates property at Big White Ski Resort.

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Big White is AWESOME! er... not about Big White...

So I wrote a brilliant blog yesterday, man it was funny. It included the Isfan's, Al Reid, me, my wife, the Thanksgiving Dinner...

Funny! But not PC... not even after I toned it down... So it is there, hidden from eyes, but if you ever want to see it... don't tell wifey.

So lets er... talk about nothing.

Did I tell you I now get paid for writing...? $3.12 in September, a professional I am now. Granted I am not a Shakespeare - I haven't even read his stuff... lots of people rave about it... seems a bit too wordy for me... "A horse, a horse... my kingdom for a horse..." Romantic grand gesture, but a bit of overkill... how about "...Wigan for a horse..." 
*Richard III, - story of a short but Machiavellian rise to power. Shaky 1592+/- Don't say you don't learn anything from Lummy Pie.

A bit more realistic, no? Cos you know he won't honour the kingdom/horse thing. He will get his lawyers involved, the horse was the wrong kind, he mis-spoke, it was a rash comment in the heat of the moment... blah blah blah... And he is Machiavellian, he is gonna cut your head off.

Now Wigan on the other hand, I can see that going for a horse... actually if I was king, giving Wigan up would not be a bad thing... here take it... no no no, please have it... a gift :) That's very generous of you kingy, but, what do I do with it? It seems to be full of those thingy's... er... Wiganers... eating pies and they don't speak English...

Granted Wigan has a couple of things going for it... it is easy to leave for one... And er...

...er fish and chips... best in the world... oh yes they are... and best mushy peas too... you listening Ben? You cannot squash up a bunch of garden peas, add mint and call it gastro... No, no, you cannot! I don't care what Paul says - he is Irish and used to be Debbie Harry - who was not famous for mushy peas... 

Who is Paul? He is your boss you numpty... of course he exists, where do you think I learned that word from...?

Alright were am I? Yes, Wigan. Mushy Peas (the real kind), pies and easy to leave... not worth a horse you say... what about a carrot? Wigan for a carrot... 

I think that is it... for today... oh wait, how about a story?

...here is a short army one... Eddy.

Eddy was a nice guy (probably still is) when I knew him in Germany; not that it mattered, but we were stationed in Osnabruck - 43 Plant Squadron. Now, Eddy was a bit of a bragger... bit of a show off, he liked to display his accomplishments... talk about his conquests...

One weekend a couple of the guys (including Eddy) did a road trip to Denmark. Eddy met a girl one night... and woke up the next day with a... memento, no not an STD but a single hair in his teeth... you know the kind... And he decided to keep it, in his room, in a little glass frame...

Every so often (when friends were around) Eddy would pull out the... and play with it... in his teeth... on his tongue... in his lips... making little noises 'mmm mmm mmmmm...'. 

Eventually the boys had had enough. One day when Eddy was out, it was swapped for another...

Big White is AWESOME! A Christmas Story...

But it is Thanksgiving... Christmas is way off... what are you up to Sherriff?

Not much, searching the bottom of the barrel for things to write, and it not really a Christmas story, more of a birthday one... mine... my 25th.

But my birthday is Christmas day... you see a little connection.

I had just left the army and like many arriving at Big White, I went to spend a season at a ski resort - in my case - Chatel, in the French Alps.

It is funny how quickly you meet new friends when you are travelling alone... the bar is the perfect place... of course it is. Anyway I had arrived in Switzerland (actually) a week or so before and despite my command of the French language being similar to my command of Hindu, I had managed to 

• find accommodation, 
• got a job in a French restaurant as a plunger (say it with a French accent), it's a dish-washer.
• and I probably knew most of the brits working in the resort. I went to the bars... easy.

Plunger is a hard job, I literally ran in the kitchen trying to keep up with the mountain of dishes... each morning would start with last nights dinner... and just as I got through that, breakfast was piled high, and before I finished breakfast... lunch arrived... ahhh! 

Anyway lets get to the story. At this restaurant there was a French girl... (Frenchy) doing house-maid slash waitress jobs... she did not speak any english. We never conversed (cos we couldn't) and besides she barely acknowledged my existence - 'dumb English hooligan' French accent again please...

So, it is Christmas Eve, and the eve of my 25th birthday. I am with a couple of Friends, both who speak French, one is half Swiss (the French side) so is fluent... We are drinking and having fun when Frenchy arrives... it appears her standards have now dropped and 'I' am on her radar. Actually I am not just on her radar, I am target acquired, missiles are locked and loaded - she is all over me... all over... let me say that again (cos it never happened often, okay okay... never...) All Over me!

Now the language barrier problem... is no longer. I am understanding (with a little help from my friends and the All Over bit) that she is telling me I shouldn't be alone on my birthday... Okay... I can do that, the 'not' being alone thing.

She is sat on my lap, her arms are wrapped around me, she keeps kissing me, she keeps talking to me in French... 'not alone on your birthday... not alone' Okay, me man, I will do as told... keep her happy, do what she wants. Which funnily enough is exactly what I want... it is my birthday after all... And Christmas too!

So, I go to the washroom... (mistake) when I come back Frenchy is leaving... and is mad...! Mad! Despite my lack of French, I can tell when a woman is mad... I think it is a natural talent. Anyway, her jacket is on, there is some feet stomping, I get a final dirty look and she is out the door... gone!

What the hell did I do? What...? At this point I notice my 'buddies' giggling to themselves... b*******!

No they had not told her I was married, or had kids, or had a girlfriend - none of those by the way.


No... my friends had explained to her that I was a prostitute and she would have to pay...

Ha! We laughed... Not. B*******!


Pitch-
If you are coming to Big White for the season... go to the bars...

Big White is AWESOME! The Annual Migration...

Yes, yes it is that time of year again. The annual migration from Australia, to a central gathering spot in the central interior of BC... a mountain called Big White.

No one knows the exact size of this migration, nor how they navigate the almost 13,000 km... some say it is instinct, others say internal compass... others claim international flight schedules... others indicate an inter-generational knowledge transfer... ('talking') Whatever the reason - like students returning to the bar, these strange humanoids - arrive at Big White en masse.

Now there are two categories, 'Returning' and 'Newbies', each with varying personality traits between both the male and female.

The first category, the 'Returning'
The returning seasonal worker has seen it and done it at Big White; not only surviving the experience but thriving in the (liver) challenging conditions. The 'returning' source better jobs, better places to live, avoid (somewhat) the party scene, are more settled and tend to budget their income better. 

Now don't get me wrong the 'Returning', is usually an 'expert' drinker, and can be seen falling into the 'who wants a shot?' trap... be careful of this trap... 

On par with the 'who wants a shot?' trap is the 'here drink this...' pass if possible. However, avoidance can often lead to the withdrawal of the 'man card' membership status... This can be costly when it comes to attracting potential partners - critical if said target, has fallen into the 'here drink this...' trap.


The second category is the 'new seasonal worker...' - 'Newbies'.
The Newbie is often seen wondering around the village come mid November asking 'where is the village?' Another common trait of the Newbie is to group walk, looking for nesting sites - often the Newbie is forced to accept costly, yet inferior, nesting sites.

As a result of the inferior nesting sites, Newbies spend little time in the nest, often reverting to the local gathering centres "watering holes" this leaves them greatly exposed to the 'who wants a shot?' and 'here drink this' traps. 

Note:
These two traps often contain toxic elements, fortunately the physiology of the species allows a natural counter, often triggered by the 'staggering home' activity - Pizza tracks.  The 'nightly produced tracks' can often be seen, early morning, radiating from the watering holes...

The Male Migratory Beast.
Whether a 'returning' or 'newbie' can be identified with common physical attributes... more often than not it is skinny jeans, canvas pumps and facial hair... 

Note 2: The skinny jean can actually serve as an indicator to outsiders trying to gleam a knowledge, some jean waists are found around the the buttocks or even mid thigh of the species. No research has been completed but the finding are interesting-

• The question of "why is your trouser waist around your thigh?"
• If the answer is - "because it is comfortable." then you are dealing with a person on a different level of intelligence.
• If the answer is - "because I like them." Ditto.
• If the answer is - "because I cannot pull them up properly." Ditto
• Of course if the answer is "they fell down." Then in that instance you are dealing with Ditto.

Of course there seems to be a correlation between the height of the waist and the IQ of the wearer. But only to a certain level... jeans around the neck... 

And males outnumber the females... this often leads to territorial and testosterone driven conflicts... Unsurprisingly the these conflicts often occur post or during the 'who wants a shot' and 'here drink this' traps.

The Female.

The Female, as in many species tend to be much smarter than the males. Often securing reasonable nesting sites and engaging in positions to secure a continuous and ready supply of the "beer token", this allows them to participate in the nightly watering hole rituals. Often the Female is able to secure participation in the rituals without expending any of their tokens - we find the Males enabling this situation with the "Can I buy you a drink...?" approach.

Note 3.

The "Can I buy you a drink...?" is not the real question, it is "would you like to see my nest...?" Do not confuse with the male to male question "Hey, want a beer? This means 'hey, want a beer?'.

Finally, if the beasts fall into the various drinking traps they can find themselves in the morning going through this thought process...

• "Where am I...?"
• "Man my head hurts..."
• "...Who are you...!?"
• "Where are my clothes...?"
• "I am never going to drink again... Ever!" - Don't believe this, it is a lie.

Pitch

Sólido Properties lives, works, owns, and rents property, falls into drinking traps, and writes a crappy blog about living at Big White. If you need a nest... contact us through Facebook, our website or email