I hope you don’t mind if I drive like my Mum, I am already one car wreck down this season. But don’t tell Henny-Penny. Henny-Penny is the name of my new car (second hand kind of new!) that I purchased from some chicken farmers in Omakau.
The concept of being packed full of hysterical women and driving up a dirt road to the snow line is lost on my new car. So I’m here to talk you all through it.
Despite Henny Pennys child hood on an organic free range chicken farm, she is still awfully fond of fossil fuels and blowing smoke at the nature gods. So I like to pack her full of friends to make sure we don’t waste soooo much.
Organising ski friends is quite different to your regular commuters’ car pool. We lack structure and punctuality. A sense of urgency is precipitation dependant and generally, I like to just roll with the punches. If I pick up my friends in the morning and someone needs to stop for coffee I DON’T ASK QUESTIONS. She might be an addict losing the plot. She might have been up all night kissing boys. Maybe the girl just has a penchant for wandering down the street like a celeb sipping a frappe mocha latte.
We don’t judge here.
No doubt an integral part of one of your passengers ski kit will be at a mystery location across town. For example Veronika had to retrieve one ski pole (just one, not two) from her boyfriend’s car.
Now we’re on our way to Treble Cone but Wanaka has some pretty beautiful landscapes so it’s necessary to pull over at whimsy to do some vibe-ing.
Once on the resort it’s time to get as far away from other people as possible. You better hope someone packed a bag of Hippie Heat, because scroggin might be the only thing to get you through the day.
After an excellent day skiing with your girlfriends, desert them on the main street looking as uncoordinated as possible. It’s better that way.
Words: Anna Smoothy
Photos: Genevieve King & Anna Smoothy
Riders: Anna Smoothy, Veronica Adland & Genevieve King