…Continued from part 1

Foam sticks and Jetski are left in the city, provisions are stocked and we are ready for the seventy or so switchbacks leading up the mountains to La Villa. La Villa De Jolgorio is owned by a friend of the brothers so the house serves as the crew’s shred shack during winter.

The Andes are tall, steep mountains and the huge snowy peaks illuminated by our friendly natural satellite are now surrounding our view letting us know that we made it back to winter. Sliding our way up the last switchbacks at 3000 meters, we finally make it home tired, salty, and excited to strap in our shred sticks. This little Swiss looking wood cabin makes the gringos feel right at home amongst the southern mountains.  

What really makes us feel at home is the view we get the following morning. From sea to Sky, perched above Santiago where millions of citizens are getting on with their daily lives, we get a short gaze of the city below.

As in unison, citizens thicken the smog blanket over the city, eventually isolating us over the artificial layer. After an afternoon of shredding around the resort and getting ready for dinner while enjoying some Escudos, Romain pops in the front door with two board bags full of new decks and the party finally begins. “You guys want Piscola?” Pato asks us already pouring glasses of the foreign liquor for everyone at the table.

Pisco, he says, is the name of the liquor and mixed with Coca Cola it makes Piscola: a real firecracker of a drink that will turn the most introverted Marilyn-lovin’ Goth in a dance machine and a wild man… even wilder. Although there’s a mellower version with juice, called “Pisco Sour” (only for girls says Fede), Piscola is the only thing Chileans drink when they party. Which is almost every night, but the bigger nights are when it’s snowing because no one goes riding during storms since there are no trees and you can’t see anything.

Which is exactly the case right now: the moon has disappeared leaving the stage for thick clouds that have begun to regurgitate ocean droplets gathered down the hill. Eventually after a very late night in Farallonnes we decide to trade spots with the storm and return to the coast to visit one of Chile’s prime wave riding location until the whiteout turns to sunshine.

Judging by Romain’s whitish tint, the switch backs down the mountains are not doing too good on his first Piscola hangover in five years. As a matter of fact neither DCP, Paul or myself, all crammed in the brothers’s pickup truck, are exactly enjoying the ride in survival mode after last night’s blurry episode.

We get our introduction to empenadas outside of Santiago, and feeling a little better with food in our bellies we’re officially on our way through green pastures with the mountains at our back.

 Gazing at the landscape going by before him, David comments on how good it is to be able to take time away from the mountains to visit other places when conditions are bad. Before DCP, Romain and JP started YES, team managers and other pencil pushers would direct their every move until they were back on the plane to another shoot. “What’s the point of going to all these far countries if all you see is a mountain with snow, trees and rocks? You should spend the time to absorb the true culture of a foreign place,” he says. Now that they hold the steering wheel of their own board company, things have change for the best and the new directions feel like they were all meant to be.

To be continued…