EXPLOSION: Skiing in Termas is one eruption after another

We go back to the practice cornice on day two, and after a night of liquor and big talk, McMillan said she had to go big. “I got myself talkin’ and said I would do a front flip – I need to shut myself up when drinking,” she said the next day after stomping her first go at it. So Dyer sends it after never trying one before. She lands the drop but catches something in the runout and rag dolls to the bottom. Nonetheless, both were beaming with ear-to-ear smiles.

“That’s what a girls’ trip is for,” Jess said about the no-pressure atmosphere where skiing, as Dyer said, "is so simple, turn left, then right and after 20 years then maybe you'll be good at it."

Later that evening, we get on the last chair ride to the summit to hike to a steep rib line in the vast backcountry. An eerie fog had started to roll into the valley, and had created a carpet of clouds below us. It was about 6 p.m. The light was perfect; the snow was buttery. It felt like we were in heaven. But the skiing below was treacherous. The thick fog had socked in the lower part of the mountain, which made it scary thinking that we could fall in hot spring holes. After skiing by Braille, we finally arrived at our minibus wet from the misty rain in the valley. Rogel, Seymour and Dyer decided to poach a hotel hot spring tub. “There’s something about me and hot tubs,” Rogel said skipping away. “I consider myself a professional poacher.” They got a free bath while the rest of us drank Escudo beer in the minibus, hoping that there was heat on in the rental when we returned.

Blast. We get to the house to find it cold and dank. We light candles and the next thing we hear is the Propane tank explosion. Had the candles been closer to the gas, there would have been nothing that the firemen could do. As is, their performance was unnerving. According to our local friends, the firemen were still celebrating their Firemen’s Ball when Dyer dashed across the yard to get help from the neighbors. The crew didn’t arrive until the tank had fully unloaded its gas about 45 minutes later. With no qualms, the firemen stormed into the house and turned the valve off, then brought all of us in to see what caused the blow. The candles were still going! Astounded, Rogel and Leitton ran around the house pinching out the flames.

Thankfully we still have our gear; we are alive and able to ski at Portillo. We just went from rags to riches by stopping here. More on that later as the Mystery Bus keeps on moving …

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