Junior Worlds 2012: The Nuts and Bolts

Nearly a year ago you may have tuned in to my live updates from the 30th LatinAmericans in Peru. Amidst the fast-moving days, I was able to kick out a couple behind-the-scenes photos, a couple blog posts, and some details from the tournament, all while having loads of fun. Apparently, the updates caught some attention, because a couple months ago, I had some requests for another live update from the land down under, where I'd be in a few months (NOW). I promised I'd try, so here it is. I won't be able to throw up something every day. Let's call it what it is. Just another try at this experiment. This trip is longer. Bigger. And there's quite a bit more pressure. But I want to bring you all along for the ride. Bear with me if I can't write up my "dear diary..." every night. Anyways, let's jump to it.

Bring it, Australia!

In similar fashion to nearly a year ago, the buzzer of the intercom rang again, calling for me. But this time, I'm headed somewhere else. To another part of the world. I have no idea what to expect, what to look forward to. But I'm excited at the prospect. The prospect of competing in my first Junior World Championships, this year in Australia. My mission? To make it to Melbourne, Australia, in one piece. Without too much jet lag. With use of my legs, and juice in my brain. With the capability to go out on a piece of carbon fiber, and do what I need to. Good times.

Back to the airport. We check in our skis, pray to whatever airline-checkin-gods exist, and grab some food for the flight. We're on the plane, and I realize I'm picking up a habit for these tournament flights. I'm out before we reach altitude.

Enjoying the impressive architecture of LAX, before heading over the Pacific.

We land in LA, for our layover. It's a short one, and we'll be strapped into our next flight soon. We take a stroll outside, inhale the Pacific breeze, and head back in to look for our gate. We're early for the flight, so we take a moment to breathe before ascending back into the clouds. Grab something else to eat, take a quick nap, and we're on the runway.

Last goodbyes are said before the phones go off. A slight delay, but we're in the air soon, not coming back down to Earth for another sixteen hours. I'm starting to think this'll be the most difficult part of this trip. It's long, but, three movies, probably too little homework, and a couple naps later, we finally touch down.

Sunset from above the clouds.

Out of the airport, we catch our rental car, and set off through Melbourne for a couple hours. Oh, epic Melbourne. Large, sprawling, and impressive. The architecture is unique. The people are refreshingly welcoming. And the food is incredible. If you've not been here yet, do yourself the treat and make it here one day. Several people also asked, from the size of our three-event bag, if we were water skiers. It's nice for people to be aware of the sport, as well as interested, something you don't find many other places in the world.

After exploring the city life, we pack up and head out into the drylands. Not technically the Outback, it's actually quite pleasant, not the quintessential Australian back-bush. Sure, most of the trees are eucalyptus, but the fields are covered with thick, endless, yellow grass. The last three hours pass quickly, with a few landscape photo stops and a couple kangaroo sightings. The enormity of my situation on this planet only really hits me now. What I'm doing. Where I'm going. Where I am. I'm incredibly grateful to all the people and factors that put me here, left reeling at the magnitude of it all.

Majestically standing tall over the Yarra River
bridge, Australia's representation greets us as we
venture into the Aussieland. 

Our destination is Mulwala, right across the border of Victoria and New South Wales, from Yarrawonga. Both small towns. In the middle of nowhere. But to several hundred people, pulled together by this event, these towns are huge right now. We check in to our hotel while checking into next days schedule. Starting tomorrow, familiarization begins. Each country has a couple slots of time throughout these next four days, usually no more than forty minutes long, to fit in as many ski sets as possible. For some, it's a matter of two skiers having two sets each. For others, this means stuffing eight skiers into the slot, giving each skier less than five minutes on the water. This isn't the time to learn anything new. Whatever we've spent the past months, year, learning, we know. This is about getting a feel for the lake. The boat. The climate. 75% mental, the other 25% towards accustomization. This is about getting a feel for the settings we've violently dropped ourselves into, a radical change for some of us coming from places around the world still skiing with full-body wetsuits. Brrr. Australian summers routinely peak above 100 degrees Fahrenheit, something very few of us have had the luxury of training in. But it's an inherent challenge to the sport, something we all willingly take on.

Saturday morning is generous. Our goal is to make sure we get enough sleep to get over any last remnants of jet lag, and I wake up happy with how we've handled it. I manage to get a few sets in Saturday. The lake's feeling good. The water's cool, refreshing, and skis well. Things feel good. The next couple days pass by in similar fashion, some earlier than others. I split up my time between skiing, resting, escaping to document the surrounding landscape with my camera, and catching up on schoolwork. Or trying to, at least.

As I type this up late Monday night, nodding off on my keyboard, we're preparing for the last day of familiarization. Tomorrow's call time isn't too generous; a jarring six am. But we'll take what we can get, and I don't entirely mind early mornings either. The tournament starts Wednesday afternoon, and won't stop until Sunday night.

I hope you'll join me then.