Review: Rudegirls Snowboarding Camp

I was sceptical about women-only weeks. 

I saw a surf one in Morocco and it seemed a bit bonkers to me.

Loads of girls cooped up together in one of the most filthy and misogynistic countries I’ve ever visited.

Where’s the sense in that? 

But we were not in Morocco. We were in Morzine in that most civilised of nations, La France.

It’s a chocolate-box town, with wooden Alpine chalets, fine cuisine and crazy bars. This was more like it. 

And we weren’t there to surf. We were there to ride. 

There were 18 of us. A mixed bag of abilities, backgrounds, ages and agendas. Our hosts for the week was Rudechalets and we were rude girls (but more on that later).

Set up by Helen Lavender and hubby Chris in 2003, Rudechalets has mushroomed into a mini-empire, with properties in Morzine-Avoriaz and Chamonix. 

Helen and Chris offer winter holiday life, but not as we know it. With flat-screen TVs in every en-suite bedroom, Xboxes to play with, hot tubs to climb into and a Burton boards test centre, you couldn’t ask for more. 

The girls had travelled alone or in small groups, but – when we all came together on the first night – the chat (and the wine) were flowing freely. 

I arrived just in time for the feast, having enjoyed an effortless transfer from Geneva courtesy of Ski Lifts and a nice Hungarian driver who helped me with my luggage. 

The Rudegirls had been split into three categories – beginner, intermediate and advanced – but all of us would be benefiting from the tuition of former French snowboarding champion Angelique Corez-Hubert.

For the freestyle enthusiasts among us, Rudechalets-sponsored rider and local superstar Sabrina Kusar was also taking classes. 

But this was just the start of the itinerary – also on the cards were two 90-minute sessions with yoga teacher Lou Tilbury from Cornwall, a party night in a refuge followed by drunken sledging (seriously under-rated and still one of the most dangerous things I have done), après sessions and a party to round off the week. 

This gave a lot to talk about on day one. That’s when we were all minding our manners and the Rudechalets’ staff, Chris and Dan, thought we were a bunch of well-mannered ladies. 

How wrong could they be? 

After day one, the game was truly up – and I think I was kind of responsible for the sea change. After focussing too much on talking rather than what my legs were doing when exiting a lift, I stacked it – ending up squatting on my bindings. 

Let’s just say that, if I was a man, my procreating days would probably be over.

This gynaecological-style injury was the talk of the dinner table. Dan asked how my ‘leg’ was. Chris inquired after my ‘area’.

Then one of the girls rolled in and shouted down the table: “Oi, how’s your fanny?”

By day three, we were in après full-swing and dinner times descended into the hilarity of guessing who would roll up the most pissed.

Don’t blame us, blame the Mutzig - a beer with an alcoholic percentage of a spirit that does weird things to you at altitude…

Fun times aside, we were there to ride and ride hard. 

Between the two-hour lessons for each standard every day, there was plenty of time for free riding, with the added bonus of guiding each afternoon - courtesy of our hostess Helen, whose enthusiasm rubbed off on everyone. 

Angelique turned out to be an amazing teacher. I felt I made more progress in the time I spent with her that I have ever made before. 

And the lessons weren’t just on piste. By day four the team were cruising the back country and, thanks to Sabrina’s instruction, nailing the kickers in Avoriaz’s numerous parks. 

The beginners progressed to the blue runs and the sun made a welcome appearance just as everyone was taking their riding to another level. 

By mid-week, the Rudegirls had gained a reputation in Morzine and were probably known to every barman in town. 

This was probably due to the formation of Team Terminal Velocity, or Team TV, which faced every challenge that beset them – by day or by night – with gusto. Let’s just say, Team TV take no prisoners. 

Between the high-jinks, we actually learned something too. Claire Pearson from Burton joined us for the back end of the week and, under her instruction, we became proficient at waxing and maintaining our boards. 

We also learned to control a sledge. Well, sort of. After getting a taste for it at the refuge night (small slope, no lights, lots of crashes), we were ready to jump on a gondola and take it to another level. 

This time the gradient was steep and the run was long and tree-lined. The only concession we made was head lamps, but some of those ran out any way. 

We pissed ourselves when the guiding men rocked up with a blood wagon, but it had been filled by the bottom of the first descent. Not by one of us, thankfully.

The occupant was a French woman who had probably forgotton to bail/use her brakes – and subsequently smacked her head. 

Having survived the perils of sledging and scared the life out of every man in town, we were amped for the final day’s safari to Switzerland. 

Having upgraded our passes to take in the entire Portes du Soleil area, our destination was Torgon, just across the border. 

After a leisurely lunch in Chatel and a few amusing incidents on drag lifts, we were overlooking Lake Geneva. Well, the clouds above Lake Geneva, but we’re sure it was there. 

No clouds for us, though. It was a blue sky day and we soaked up the view of Mont Blanc, the Matterhorn and Monte Rosa before riding back. 

There was time for one last nocturnal blast in Morzine. Fresh from the week’s prize-giving which rewarded the most improved riders and a Mexican-themed party, the girls hit the town wearing moustaches. 

“What’s the occasion?” asked one bloke. We didn’t need one. 

We’d had a bloody good time and there were some sorrowful faces as the Rudegirls went their separate ways the next morning. 

The fun was over – until next year… 

Rudechalets: www.rudechalets.com

Lou Tilbury Yoga: www.ompadma.co.uk

Ski Lifts: www.ski-lifts.com