Ski Lift to Nowhere

Ask a skier what was the most difficult thing to learn, and he’ll probably say, “riding the lifts.” Back in the good-old days of the 1960s, lifts in the Midwest were either towropes, T-bars, or Poma lifts. The towropes ruined your gloves. If you didn’t stay in the ruts caused by other skiers, you toppled over and created a domino effect for those behind you. Those of us who are “vertically challenged” had trouble on the T-bars. We couldn’t get that bar to move down on our little bodies, so we often held on as if we were water-skiing. Not a good idea! As for the Poma lifts, same problem. Little kids ended up in tears after a Poma attempt. Now, at our local ski area, we have five chair lifts, a few moving sidewalks (which we call magic carpets) and one towrope for the brave souls learning Big Air Tricks. Getting on a chair isn’t easy either. It takes a lesson to learn when to walk up, how fast to scoot, which way to look, and just when to sit down. And getting off can be a challenge. Not only do you ski down a slight slope, you might have to navigate around a fallen skier who just can’t seem to realize that he needs to roll out of the way. Sometimes, a lift ride becomes the “lift to nowhere.” Such was the case yesterday. We arrived at the ski area around 1:30 and rode our usual lift (known as the orange lift) to the top. We always ski from there to the “blue lift” where our friends are the lift operators. As we rode the orange lift, my husband looked toward the blue lift and said, “Don’t stop at the blue lift. Keep on skiing to the red lift. The blue one isn’t running. Looks like it is frozen up and people are sitting up in the air.” We figured the lift would be running again in a few minutes. We’d visit our friends later. Ten minutes later, when the blue lift was again in sight, it was still stopped with the same skiers sitting high in the air. “I rode that lift a few days ago,” I said. “Jim, the operator, thought it was messed up. It was running too fast. Jim and the other workers told kids and beginners to ride other lifts. You had to be speedy to get on and off.” “Speedy” wasn’t the word for yesterday. The lift just plain stopped. No attempts to re-start it worked. For almost 45 minutes, those riders sat over the hill, legs dangling from the lift. I took a long look at the blue lift. Someone was being belayed on a rope. Numerous ski patrolmen were waiting under the lift. One at a time, the 25 or so skiers were rescued by ropes. They tossed their poles down, but kept the skies on. A rope was thrown over the lift cable, A harness and small “seat” (which one lady described as a “plastic dinner-plate,”) were attached to the rope. After placing the harness on and sliding into the “seat,” the rope was lowered. “It was frightening,” a lady told me. “I was the second one on my chair to get lowered. At least I had the opportunity to watch it work for another rider. The last person on my lift helped me get the harness on. I bet she had a hard time all by herself.” She also mentioned that a person on the lift in front of her screamed most of the 45 minutes. And then, it was over. All the riders were back on terra firma. The lift was officially closed and the ski patrol went off to help other skiers. And today? That lift is up and running. All day yesterday, as we rode the lift with other skiers, we talked about ski lifts to nowhere. We related being stuck on a lift just before closing one Christmas Eve. There were three of us on the lift: myself, my husband, and a vacationer from China. The traveler didn’t speak much English. It was very cold that night. All of us were shivering. Both my husband and the Chinese man had on heavy skis. Mine, luckily, were light. My husband kept complaining about how much his legs hurt from the heavy pull. The other man seemed to understand and kept nodding his head in agreement. When the lift started up again and we exited, the ski area management met us with hot chocolate and free passes for another day. It became a nice Christmas after all. One man told us his experience from a few years ago while riding the orange lift. Suddenly, a tree uprooted, fell across the lift, and landed on the cable. Two lift riders were in the chair facing the tree, and only about 15 feet away. “Boy, were they lucky,” he said. “It didn’t take long to get that tree down. We actually rode the lift the rest of the way before it was closed!” What is most interesting and fortunate, perhaps, is that none of the crazy lift stories led to disaster. The ski patrol always came to the rescue. Most skiers just considered it part of the experience. I suppose lots of praying on the lifts helped too.