Soft snow lingers in the shade while skiing some of the Portillo, Chile, classics, many of which dump out at the shimmering blue Laguna del Inca.
Kylie Fly, Stephen Erikson and I landed at the airport in Santiago, Chile, in late August, the morning after a major storm swept through the Andes. It was the first significant snowfall after a four-week dry spell in the southern hemisphere, and multiple feet of heavy snow wreaked havoc on the roads up to Ski Portillo, a 90-mile drive from the airport. The forecast was calling for rising temperatures the next day, and the fresh snow was fleeting. Portillo offered discounted helicopter flights from the airport to ferry skiers to the resort, and we landed at the iconic bright yellow Hotel Portillo with just enough time to boot up and catch a sunset lap before the lifts closed at 5 p.m.
Like many skiers, I’ve often fantasized of skiing in South America during the summer. My birthday is on August 23, prime time to score good snow down south. With a little fate, my good friend, Katrina DeVore invited me, Kylie and Stephen to join her for a week at Portillo.
The iconic Hotel Portillo, in all its bright yellow glory.
A few hours after landing in Santiago, we were dropped in the middle of paradise—cliff riddled peaks with ski lines all funneling down to the Laguna del Inca. The four slingshot lifts at Portillo are infamous—rope tow-style lifts that use Poma discs and a pulley system of cables to transport skiers up regular avalanche slide paths—and I was ready to experience them with a mix of excitement and apprehension.
In the 1960s, the Poma Company built the slingshot lifts for Ski Portillo as a solution for transporting skiers up terrain prone to avalanches. At Portillo, a lot of the great ski terrain is directly in the runout zones of several large avalanche slide paths. Typical chairlifts wouldn’t hold up to regular occurring slides, but the slingshot lifts are suspended above the ground, so avalanche debris can slide underneath them more easily. The installation is simple, no cement pads and lift towers, nor does it require as much power to operate. Plus the lift can be quickly removed and reinstalled after a major storm. It’s a low-impact design allowing skiers to access steep terrain. But it takes some getting used to.
Portillo's slingshot lifts are a necessary evil for skiers who want to access the resort's best freeride terrain.
The slingshot feels like a juiced-up single Poma lift—four or five skiers can ride side by side, with round Frisbee-like discs that you stick between your legs. It’s an unnerving feeling, getting hauled straight up a super steep slope, trying to dismount quickly without taking each other out. But we got the hang of it, and soon we were traversing from our highpoint to untracked snow below. The sun danced along the jagged horizon as we hooted and hollered, arcing boot top pow turns right above the shimmering lake.
Throughout the week we developed more confidence, riding the Rocka Jack, Condor, Las Vizachas and El Cara Cara slingshots, all which opened up a world of untouched snow, chutes and open bowls if you’re willing to bootpack and traverse a little. We skied line after line, dropping down to the glittering lake below.
Multiple feet of snow followed by a week of sunshine? Amy David scored a banner week in Portillo, Chile, in August.
By the end of the week, we had been eyeing a line locals call the Chimney Couloir, visible from Tio Bob’s the iconic on-mountain restaurant. The couloir is walled in, staying shaded most of the day despite persistent sunshine. It felt fitting to access our last line of the trip the same way as our first run in Chile. We saddled up on the Condor Slingshot lift for one last hoorah, finally feeling like seasoned slingshotters. At the top of the lift, Katrina and I loaded our skis on our packs and bootpacked to the high traverse while Kylie and Stephen set up their long lens cameras at Tio Bob’s. We billygoated through some windswept rocks, and discovered that our prediction was right: the shaded line held dry, cold snow. One at a time, we ripped quick turns down the tight couloir as low-density snow sprayed up with each turn. Cervezas at Tio Bob’s awaited. Ski Portillo will always have my heart.
Skier Amy David arrived in Portillo, Chile, right on time, just after a major storm ended a four-week dryspell.