This clown (too harsh?) tries to get on the lift mid-mountain and pays for it.
Ah, the ski lift fail. Most people have an unhealthy relationship with the lift. Getting on and off is one of the scariest, and biggest, huddles there is when learning how to ski and continues to give even the most seasoned riders trouble on occasion. Take myself for example. I’ve been shredding slopes since before I can remember, and yet I am legitimately frightened EVERY SINGLE TIME I have to disembark from a chair lift. This is not a joke. This is an actual problem. I once knew a person who couldn’t ski; not because they didn’t have the talent or desire, but because they were afraid they would throw themselves off the lift, voluntarily and without reason. That’s a little weird, but you get the point. There is even a whole movie based on the fear of chair lifts.
I have a long history of terrible ski lift stories. There was the time I tried to ride a pommel lift early in my ski career and got my pole straps wrapped around the bar so that when I fell after about 10 feet of riding, I got dragged up the rest of the way by my arm. Or the time I tried to ride a steep t-bar almost to the top before catching an edge and taking out half the other riders on the way down. I’ve also broken highbacks, been clipped in the head, had my pack ripped off, dropped a glove (the WORST), and lost a ski while trying to drop snow on the skiers below (karma is also the worst/best). Yet, given all this, the chair lift is an essential part of the resort experience. Not only does it get you to the top, but it allows you to take a breather and chat with your fellow skiing stranger. There is a lot of other stuff that goes on on a chair lift, but we’ll save that for another post.
If that didn’t get your goat, here’s some bonus footage of 1970s hotdogging. Epic bails, and even more epic ballet. Those were heady times. Love the guy drinking a beer as he warms up.
