Grays On Trays

An important but often overlooked part of the ski scene is the lift attendant. One newspaper in southern Oregon describes the lives of lifties at Mt. Ashland.

Some of the points the article makes aren’t surprising. For example, the work is physical and sometimes mind-numbing. What I haven’t thought much of, though, is that some lifties go out of the way to have a game face on for hours on end.

“The thing that keeps me doing it is all the guests,” says [Becca] Henriksen, 19, “seeing them come back and getting to know them.

“You just try to be interested in how they’re doing,” she says, “or comment on their hat or glasses. It’s always nice when somebody comes up and before you have a chance to say anything they say ‘How’s it going’ or ‘Nice to see you.’”

Being friendly for an eight-hour shift can be exhausting, Henriksen says. “You’re ‘on’ all the time. You have to be on all the time, and you have to like being on all the time.”

I’ve seen a variety of lift attendants in my time. Some are like Henriksen. Others are silent.

Given the boredom that accompanies the job, I’m not surprised that some lifties bring along a boom box and turn out their favorite tunes. That’s a hit-or-miss proposition, though, as what appeals to the lifty may not appeal to the guest.

Lifties also keep fresh by alternating stations, either from lift to lift, or from the loading station to the unloading station, or “top shack.”

The article also mentions that lifties might like or dislike particular stations, based either on the particular configuration of the chair, or the types of guests (children, experts) who come through.

I have also seen lifties enforce various rules, which wasn’t mentioned in the article. For example, if you ride alone (which I often do), you may be expected to sit on the “inside” of the chair. On occasion, I’ve also seen lifties ding a snowboarder for not having a leash.

So, dear readers, here are some questions for you:

Do you prefer a lifty to be “seen but not heard,” or part of the environment of skiing or riding? Do you usually talk with the lift operator, or remain quiet?

Do you prefer to have music at the loading station, or none?

Have you ever gotten into trouble (say, catching an edge on the loading ramp, getting clothing caught in the chair, etc.) and had to rely on the lift operator for help? I’ve seen lifties be very helpful and others seem almost content to let a guest who falls off the chair be dragged up the hill.

(Hat tip to Michelle at Alyeska Lift Crew for the pointer.)

My first season pass was at Buck Hill, a place so small that boredom from doing laps on skis made me look into snowboarding. The “Buck Hill” name precedes the ski operation, allegedly stemming from–you guessed it–the bucks that could have, at one time, been seen grazing on the hill, with today. You won’t find any bucks around today, though from many points on the hill you’ll be able to see Interstate 35, which travels from Minnesota, down through the center of the country, and into Texas.

Buck is a day (and night) area where residents of the Minneapolis-St. Paul metropolitan area can get some quick turns. Once out in the sticks, it’s now easily accessible from both major cities as well as the southern suburbs that have expanded over the last 40 years.

Its claim to fame is not its terrain (100 acres, 300 vertical feet) but its ski racing heritage. Many adults race in leagues and high school teams seem to take over the place from 3pm until 6pm. Buck has been the training ground for World Cup downhill skiers such as Kristina Koznick (now retired) and Lindsey Kildow Vonn, who finished the 2007-08 season as the world’s downhill and overall champion.

The best time to visit is mid-day during the week. Ten dollars will get you three hours of riding or skiing, which is more than you’ll need to cover all the slopes if you’re a freerider. An hour will be enough to let you visit all the named slopes, so use the other two to revisit favorite slopes or experiment with riding switch.

If you want to try the terrain park or halfpipe mid-day, you’re (mostly) out of luck. Those areas are open mid-day, but they’re not too accessible. The easiest way to lap the halfpipe is to take a dedicated rope tow, which doesn’t start running until 3pm. When the rope isn’t working, you may find yourself having to hoof it uphill to a chair. As far as the park goes, you can get there on a lift at any time, but you may have to be careful to keep your speed at the end or you face a short uphill walk.

I’ve mentioned skiers. How about snowboarders? Steve Fisher, a noted halfpipe competitor, got his beginning at Buck Hill.

This season Buck introduces what it claims to be the country’s longest moving carpet. The carpet replaces both a rope tow and a j-bar lift.

A portion of the carpet is covered, to keep kids (and anyone else) from falling off onto the trail below.

Approaching the covered portion:

And inside it:

One thing I like about Buck is its modesty, starting with the name: not Buck Mountain, Buck Alps or Buck Highland, but Buck HILL.

The folks also have a self-depreciating sense of humor, too. On one of my visits there, I noticed a lift attendant having a conversation with a person who had a “Vail” sticker on his gear.

“We’re like Vail,” the liftie said. “They’ve got snow. We’ve got snow. They’ve got an interstate, we’ve got an interstate.” He laughed.

Finally, a tongue-in-cheek sign that I spotted (I’d love to include it, but I refuse to let it take up your whole screen and I’m giving up on trying to reduce its size after 15 minutes of fruitless labor.) It must have been put in place a couple of years ago, after they added some height to one of the “peaks” and created a couple of new named slopes.

It reads:

Moose Pass Summit
Ele 1180
CAUTION
Avalanche Danger

Buck Hill isn’t Keystone, Vail, or Jackson Hole it isn’t. On the other hand, it has done its share to introduce people to the joys of sliding. Doing laps on a 300-foot hill is better than sitting on the couch eating Cheetos.

* Not only does Buck Hill lack the vertical height to have avalanche-prone snow, but the staff grooms everything on a daily basis.

Sad but true, and perhaps frightening: chair lifts can stop running, even as people are being carried up the mountain.

Last season, this happened locally–on a rare powder day, no less!. The power was out for about an hour, which means that some unfortunate souls not only missed out on some good skiing and riding, but they also had 60 minutes to sit 30 feet above the ground, unable to move. That had to be uncomfortable, in more ways than one.

Eventually, the ski area’s backup generators kicked in, but they were so low-powered that it took the area staff another hour to get everyone off the lifts. At least that’s what I remember from a conversation I had with some teenagers who were there when it happened the day before.

Sometimes, as with that case, you simply have to wait it out if the lifts stop running. In more serious conditions–say the power is going to be out for a long time or the windchills are dipping into the dangerous realm–the ski patrol kicks into gear with a chair evacuation.

I’ve never been involved in one or even seen a practice, but from what I understand, it involves throwing a rope over the lift line and lowering down each person in a harness. Being lowered to the ground in a leather diaper isn’t something most people would voluntarily do, but it beats the alternatives.

Naturally, participating in evacuation drills is standard procedure for ski patrols.

Just another reason why I’m not a patroller.

At least two three ski areas in North America are introducing a conveyor load lift this season: Boyne Mountain, in Michigan, is installing one. Okemo (Vermont) is introducing one, too as is, Mount Snow, also in Vermont.

No, this isn’t your belt system on the bunny hill that starts at point A and ends at point 5 100 feet later. This is a conveyor merged with a regular chair. The following video, from Mt. Snow, illustrates how it works.

No more skating to get to the lift–at least, no more skating after you’ve gotten to the place where the conveyor starts.

I would guess that the advantages of such a system are this: 1. No more jostling around of skiers and riders so close to the lift; 2. Everyone who ride on the same chair gets to the chair at the same time–no wondering whether Joe is going to make it; 3. No more uncertainty of where to stop and wait for the chair, since the lift can be positioned appropriately.

(Hat tip to Martin Griff).

One thing I enjoy about visiting different ski areas is seeing how they differ from each other. There’s a lot of similarity in ski area management, but sometimes you’ll spot something new.

For example, I was at Loon Mountain, New Hampshire, when I noticed a sign at the loading station of the Kancamagus Quad that said “This lift may run in reverse.”

(Poor-quality photo taken with a disposable camera. My digicam died the night before I left home.)

Now if that makes you say “huh?,” you’re not alone. I asked the folks in the Loon public relations office, and here’s the answer I received:

“We have those signs on detachable lifts only. This is because when the cars/chairs go around the bull wheel and reattach to the cable there are some sensors that the grip/cable pass through. If one of those sensors senses that something is amiss, then we will stop the lift. It is easier/safer to run the lift in reverse and fix the problem vs. unloading/evacuating the guests from that particular car/chair. This is a very rare occurrence.”

This is consistent with the other answers I have been able to find. Still, it’s a bit strange. I suppose it’s one of those things that you hope you hear about but never experience.

Why did the snowboarder cross the road? To get to the powder on the other side!

Brian Head Resort (Utah) is composed of two mountains divided by a state highway. It opened a new chairlift and a new bridge recently, and both cross the road. Slide your snowboard or skis across the road via the bridge, and then cross it again on the lift.

Here’s how the change is announced on the resort’s web site: “The Interconnect System includes two new triple chair lifts, expanded snowmaking, and a beautiful new skier bridge over State Highway 143 that connects the previously divided Navajo and Giant Steps mountains. Skiers can now access the entire Resort without removing their skis. Guests travel down the east slopes of Navajo mountain and cross over the highway on the skier bridge to the base of the new lifts.”

I’ve never liked surface lifts, whether I was on skis or on a snowboard. And for a snowboarder, face it, surface lifts were designed with skiers in mind.

But can a snowboarder make peace with surface lifts?

I struggled a long time to master tow ropes, but that’s as far as I got in using surface lifts. Until now.

I spent the day touring the mountain, from edge to edge, with some other participants in the conference. By mid-afternoon, someone suggested we head up to an area that required using a t-bar. I was hesitant, but decided to take the effort.

First we went up the High Lift, and then, the North Face lift. Both lifts served diamond or double diamond terrain.

I did manage to make it up the two lifts. Here are some things that worked for me along the way. They may work for you. Though a t-bar can take two people uphill, it’s best for you to go up solo.

1. Slide into place, on one side or the other of where the line will be. Your uphill foot should be in the binding; your downhill foot should not be in its binding. Note that you will also have an uphill hand and a downhill hand.

2. When the bar comes around, put your uphill hand on the line. With your downhill hand, push the bar into place. This means placing a butt cheek against the bar.

3. As you go up, you may be tempted to let your uphill arm do all the work, by grasping the line. That’s a mistake; you’ll tire out very quickly. Successfully using a t-bar requires letting the line do the work, through the bar, not you doing the work through holding the line in a death grip with your uphill arm.

4. You may find a tendency for the bar to slip away from you. That’s not good news. To counteract this tendency, rest your downhill hand on the opposite side of the bar (where someone else would be standing), and periodically shove the bar closer to you.

5. As you ascend, maintain a slight bend in your knees. That way you can absorb small changes in the terrain.

6. Will your back foot slip off the board if it’s not in a binding? Probably. The most important thing is to not panic. The second thing is to not over correct. Simply put your foot back on the board; don’t stomp.

7. Note that the terrain may become more steep as you get towards the end of the ride. Stick with it and you’ll be rewarded with new terrain.

Skis are worthless without bindings, which are critical for controlling direction. So what’s behind the rule that snowboarders must have the back foot out of the binding during lift operations?

I can appreciate the desire to make sure that everyone in a lift line is under control; no need to have someone near moving equipment if the are “frozen” in place. And face it, the entrance to lifts is a flat place, and moving forward on a board on the flats is a difficult proposition. Sure, some people can hope their way around, but many (and I could suspect most adults) cannot.

So the unbound rear foot theory makes sense during loading. But what about unloading? I always find it much easier to ride away from the lift if both of my feet are in a binding.

Today I rode up the lift with a member of the ski patrol. I asked her if I could, by the rules, stick my rear foot back into the binding once in the chair. She said that I should be riding away from the lift with only one foot in.

Now that seems counter-intuitive. I am much more likely to fall if I attempt to ride away from a lift with only one foot in. Even skating on a flat surface is more than I can handle, let alone trying to skate in a high-traffic area.

Maybe skateboard-savvy kids can ride with only one foot securely attached, but for this adult, it’s quite a chore.