Chairlift: Six little words
Last Wednesday was one of those sublime days on The Big. All the elements involved in a day on the slopes were ideal. Heavy cares brought from town vaporized, leaving faint wisps whisked away by mild winds.
The sunshine, excellent snow conditions and lack of crowds combined to make strangers smile at one another and remark about the quality of the day. Groomed runs were covered with a layer of fool-proof, edge-loving creamed corn and off-piste favorites offered bouncy fun.
To squeeze in the maximum number of runs, I took to taking chairlifts with other people. I found myself asking people the same question.
“Great day, eh?” I’d start. “How could today be any better?”
One woman wished for more snacks but other than that, no one had a word to say. Most folks were speechless as they pondered what they had done to deserve an afternoon like this one. Everyone sported a perma-grin.
“Hard to capture, isn’t it?” one woman asked, as we stood at a popular scenic vista on Inspiration, each trying to take a photo.
Stopping for photos is not the norm for me, but I felt the need to share the day with my sister and niece, my ski partners on The Big for many years. They know this mountain but still live in the Midwest and visit when they can.
Adding to the delight of the day, Chair 2 made its triumphant return to the operating chairlift lineup. It was spinning, smooth as ever. I took it twice and tore down Ed’s and Hellroaring.
On my last chair ride of the day, a young snowboarder and I rode Chair 1 together. Immediately, he began to speak excitedly.
“I found my earbuds!” he exclaimed. “I dropped them and then I found them. I have video of me finding them. I couldn’t believe it.”
He held out his phone so I could see a few seconds of the video. I could just make out one white earbud in the snow.
He had dropped them from Chair 1, not far from the bottom, in the rocky and rolling terrain loved by young boarders and skiers.
“I'm the definition of an intermediate boarder,” he admitted. “I had no business riding there but I found them.”
I shared in his excitement and learned that his girlfriend would have been very angry if he’d lost them, since she uses them every time they go skiing together. Later, I learned that he had purchased this pair of earbuds just two days ago, after losing his original pair.
About 6 minutes in on our 7-minute ride, it happened. While I’d spent the day pondering how the day could get any better, I had never considered how it could get worse.
The snowboarder beside me told me that when he dropped the earbuds, he had been riding the chair with “an elderly lady, just like you.”
At that point, I zoned out, the word “elderly” echoing in my mind. The snowboarder continued with his story, something about how she’ll never know he found them, blah, blah, blah.
“Watch it with that ‘elderly’ business,” I told him.
“I was just trying to be polite,” he responded.
For a moment, the sunny skies dimmed, my elated mood dipped and I felt the weight of years yet unlived land on my still powerful shoulders.
Thanks to the power of the mountain, it took just a few turns, some crisp, cold air in my face and the feel of my edges in the snow to wash away the effects of that chairlift chat. That, and a couple good snacks.