Portillo, Chile

It was one of those perfectly fabulous days when everything goes your way even though you haven{t planned a thing. From the generic beach comforts of Viña del mar I entered the rugged spine of the andes on a bus bound for Argentina. The driver dropped me off on the side of the highway by a sign that said Portillo and continued on. As I pulled my pack off the dirty ice and snow on the shoulder of the road I wondered if I had done the right thing.
Portillo, nestled as if in it{s own private valley admist the giants of the andes is an absolute treasure. The towering peak of the magnificent Acongua rises to over 21,000 ft to the north. The ski resort has only one hotel and there are never more than 450 people on the slopes. In less than an hour from my drop off I was booked in a room, had rented ski equipment, and was on the slopes with Acongua towering over me. The resort had just recently had a sufficient snow storm to close the pass and trap it{s guest for 2 days. Now on the third day in sky{s of the bluest blue I skiied fresh tracks through angel light powder. It was difficult to keep my eyes on the slopes as I was completely mesmerized and enchanted by the magestic peaks and absolute beauty that surrounded me. The runs were challengeling steep to attract the Austrian and Canadian ski teams who competed in races against each other through out the day.
After the lifts closed at a generous 5pm I settled down in the hot spa on a bank overlooking the alpine lake of Laguna del Inca with the rest of the mountains patrons and watched the sun set on the andes snowy white slopes. After the jacuzzi we all migrated to the cinema to listen to Wendy Fisher, Chris Davenport, and other ski legends who were present giving ski clinics at the resort. Each of these famous skiers talked and showed film clips and footage of the best days of their extreme sport.
After dinner and drinks I finished off one of the best unplanned days ever.