STORIES FROM THE SKI LIFT
Sometimes riding a ski lift can be more than just a journey to the top. Readers give us their best stories from meeting your mate, returning a lost photo or the time a misstep sent you tumbling and cost you a season on the slopes.
Sometimes while riding a ski lift, a stranger becomes a friend. People embarrass themselves and laugh it off. They may get injured but can still find some humor in the retelling. They help each other out just because they can.
Those collective experiences are part of what makes skiing and snowboarding in Colorado so much fun. There are many of these stories floating around, and we wanted to hear them. So we asked, and you answered.
You told us about meeting your significant other. About your best friend in high school going to great lengths to win a competition. About the time the lift malfunctioned, the time you returned a phone and the time you tumbled out of the seat.
Here’s a selection of the anecdotes that readers submitted to Stories from the Lift. You can find more online at The Know Outdoors.
In high school, I was skiing Wolf Creek for a race when I was on The Broadmoor ski team. The race was canceled due to 2 feet of new snow (a typical occurrence at Wolf Creek). So I’m going up the lift with my best friend Gary. Suddenly, he goes, “Look! There’s a hundred-dollar bill in the snow!” I say that I’m going to beat him down to get it. So Gary jumps 25 feet off the lift into the powder. I was shocked. I look behind and he’s holding up the $100 bill, waving it with a smile on his face. Gary was always a risk-taker. — Gibson Hazard, Colorado Springs
Bottoming out
During the 1950s and ’60s, the ski lift at Hidden Valley ski area near Estes Park was a long, steep
rope tow. The tow had a metal clamp that was placed on the rope with a nylon cord that was attached to your waist. One day, I was leaning back and nearly to the top of the lift when the nylon cord broke. I went down the steep lift line backwards. Unfortunately, all of the skiers coming up behind me were mowed down like bowling pins. I was embarrassed, but no one was hurt. — Clarence Kissler, Littleton
Catching ZZZs
In college, I took my kid sister and her best friend up to Loveland for a quick ski getaway. They were seniors in high school and had been out way too late the night before. I also hadn’t gotten enough sleep.
At one point we were riding together up an old, slow, fixed-grip triple in the warm sun and we all took a little cat nap on the way up. All of a sudden, I realized we were at the top and shouted out while jumping off the chair. My sister also managed to get off, but her friend was not so lucky. She was sound asleep, only waking up after the chair whipped around the bull wheel and hit the emergency “stop” bar.
The only thing hurt was her pride, since they stopped the lift for several minutes while they extricated her from the chair. We, of course, teased her mercilessly — even though we were only about a second of unconsciousness away from being stuck up there with her. — Tony Apuzzo, Boulder
Single?
It was 1978. I was a 24year-old single guy living in Denver, and an avid alpine skier. One Saturday in March I couldn’t convince any of my skiing buddies to hit the slopes, so I headed to Copper Mountain alone.
I skied most of the day by myself. By late afternoon, I decided it was time to find a partner. I waited patiently at the base of B lift. After about 20 minutes, a cute girl came skiing down by herself. She was an elegant skier and appeared to be alone. She skied right past me into the line. Ski traffic was light that day, so there was no need to double up. Nevertheless, I hopefully moved up next to her. “Single?”
She glanced around at the short line as if to say, “You really don’t need to partner up as there’s hardly anyone in line.” She did, however, agree, and we rode the two-seat lift together. By the time we got up, she had agreed to continue to the top and ski a run with me. We skied the rest of the afternoon together, followed up by beers after at the base. Her name was Kelly. She was ski bumming: taking a semester off from college, selling lift tickets in the mornings and skiing in the afternoon.
We dated on and off over the next several months. Fall came. She went back to college. We lost touch.
It was two years later, in March 1980. Another lonely Saturday skiing Copper by myself. B lift again. When I got to the top, I skied down the ramp. There was Kelly. We skied the rest of the day together.
Turns out she had completed her degree and was living only 15 minutes from me in Denver.
We got engaged six months later and were married in June 1981. Our two girls grew up skiing at Copper, based at a family condo just a few steps from the Super B lift. After almost 38 years of marriage, I can say I really did find a partner that day. — Russ Wiley, Colorado Springs
Spinning yarns
I was getting on the Pallavicini lift at A-Basin, a two-seater without a restraining bar. I got on as a single and another gentleman joined me. He had a long gray beard, was older but remarkably athletic in appearance. You could tell he was once a really good athlete and “still had it” considering his age.
“You look strong so I picked you out and jumped on with you,” he said to me once we were seated and started the long, slow ride up the mountain.
“Excuse me?” I replied. “Well, I need to tell you that I have a condition that causes fainting spells,” he said. “I purposely pick out strong-looking ski-lift partners just in case I have a fainting spell. You up to the challenge?”
“Do I have a choice?” I thought to myself. Well, he did not have a fainting spell but he did have quite a colorful life. He spun yarns of backcountry adventures and spoke of the skiing industry in its early days. By the time we finished the lift and were on our way, I almost wished the ride was longer. — Cy Davis, Denver
Déjà vu
I was on a four-person lift in Vail with my friends from Boston and one single guy. We asked where he was from. He was from Andover, Mass., but was living in L.A. I said, “Did you go to Andover prep school?” He said no, he went to Andover High School. We asked what he did in L.A. He said he worked for Snapchat. One of my friends was 10 years old and was so excited about his job. The lift got stuck and we were able to talk for about 20 minutes. We got to the top and said goodbye.
I drove back to my home in Silverthorne, where my friends had come up for the weekend. One of my friends in his 20s had three other friends with him. We were at the dinner table and I asked them all where they were from. One said Andover. I said, “Did you go to Andover Prep?” He said, “I went to Andover High School.” We looked at each other. I said, “Do you work at Snapchat?” He said, “Were we on the lift together?”
Amazing coincidence — and whoever would have known with helmets and goggles on! — Kathy Neustadt, Den- ver
Long distance
A few years ago, my husband and I were hiking at the Winter Park ski area in June. I found an iPhone on the side of a trail. It looked to be in fairly good shape. I took it home and it actually charged up. I found the owner’s email address on the phone and sent him a message saying I had found his phone.
Turns out that he was a pilot for British Air living in Dublin, and had gone skiing at Winter Park on a layover in Denver. He lost his phone that day and thought he would never see it again. The most amazing thing is that he lost the phone in January and I found it in June. The darned thing still worked! I sent the phone to him in Dublin and he sent me a beautiful bouquet of flowers.
We both joked that we should have notified Apple — since who would have thought the phone would still work after being outside in the snow for six months — and asked them to arrange for us to meet. — Pat Hagerty, Boulder
Parking the parka
Long, long before Chet’s Dream chairlift at Loveland Basin, it was simply Lift No. 1 and it had occasional hiccups. Of course, I had shed my warmest coat at lunch for a light windbreaker because it was that nice a morning of uneventful, spectacular runs.
On the first lift ride up after lunch, the lift stopped. Then the chairs slid back down as the cable reversed. I was two towers from the top, riding with a junior high student from the Midwest. The lift would start, stop, and slide back. “No problem,” ski patrollers told us from below. “The lift will be fixed shortly.” One hour, then two, then the wind came up, then the clouds blocked the sun. I gave my hat to the student because I had a hood in my windbreaker. I fondly thought about my warm parka back in the bus.
Three hours passed and just before they decided to begin bringing us down with ropes, the lift resumed its uphill journey. After each of us was checked for frostbite at the top from the ski patrol, we were free to ski down. The only problem, each run was now crusted with wind-blown snow that had gone unused for three hours. And I was not that good of a skier in those days. A cold but memorable chair lift experience. — Charlie Henry, Granby
The hard way down
On a Christmas Day at Vail and first day of my Epic Pass season, we headed off to China Bowl. Skiing on ice is not my strong suit, so by the time my husband and I were on the lift after the catwalk, the only thing on my mind was how I was going to make it to the Lionshead gondola and safety at the base. He’d launched into conversation with a Canadian skier with whom he could ski.
Before we got off the chairlift, I told him I was headed to the warming hut while I figured out my downhill strategy. At the top of the lift, I got off to the right, and he headed straight. Next thing you know, my left ski is moving away from me, caught with my husband’s, and my legs are splaying.
With no stretch left, I fall backwards and our skis disentangled. The ends of my skis sliced into the ice with my knees turned in a way not seen in normal anatomy. I was more worried about the ski patrolman who had to take me all the way down in the sled by the time someone popped off my skis. That little chairlift misstep cost me a season, a pre-paid Epic Pass and tibial plateau fractures of each leg. But, hey, at least I got a ride down. — Susan Noble, Commerce City
A breakfast to boot
Fifteen years ago, I was 22 and had just moved to the Vail Valley. I was enjoying another awesome day snowboarding Vail Mountain, and got on Chair 2 with two pretty girls. One was 16 and the other was 21, local cousins. The 16-year-old headed out to ski, so I asked the other girl if she wanted to go to a cool on-mountain smoke shack in the trees. She did!
I went to see her at work the very next morning at a local deli. It was my birthday, March 7, and she bought me breakfast. I was sold. We’ve been together ever since, married for 10 years, with two awesome little girls, and are still living the dream in the beautiful Vail Valley. — Cameron Douglas, Vail
Want to read more Stories from the Lift? Go to The Know Outdoors for the rest. Have a story you want to submit? Visit dpo.st/liftstories. We’ll be updating it online as submissions come in.