Another day in chair-adise

Nothing kills the powder day vibes faster than a bad chairlift companion.

• The SnowSnob: You could be looking at a gorgeous bluebird day with 10 inches of untouched, fluffy pow, free refills on the horizon, and this chairlift seatmate couldn’t be less impressed. Honestly, they think it’s cute that you’re excited about this little “flurry0”. Last winter, they skied Niseko in Hokkaido and it snowed 27 feet every single day, but that’s par for the course in Japan. No matter the conditions, the SnowSnob has seen better. 

• The Polar Opposites: This one’s a double whammy. You’re squished between a guy who’s a walking Arc’teryx ad and a man with a beard that goes to his knees, gas station sunglasses and wooden skis old enough to be hung as decoration over a cabin fireplace. They have diametrically opposing beliefs about the need for helmets and want you to moderate their squabble.

• The Drunk Dad: Since stopping off for an 11 a.m. beer break at the Powderhouse, this man has seen at least a dozen Montucky Cold Snacks, but what he hasn’t seen in a while is his wife or kid. Don’t worry though – his wife’s had two whole ski lessons and their kid is 5 years old. Practically an adult! Or wait. Is he six? Whatever. Remembering their kid’s age is Mom’s job, just like it’s her job to be the only parent on babysitting duty all day. No friends (or family) on a powder day, right?!

• The Bar Slammer: Your butt is barely in the seat before this person decides to drop the bar on your head, zero warning. Good thing you’re on the pro-helmet side of things. In fact, this person loves the bar so much, they typically tend to wait until the absolute last second to lift it back up, causing you and everyone else to scramble to get off the lift. Enjoy going through the rest of your day with a Grade 2 concussion and remember: safety first!

• The Contact High: Finally! Four runs in, you’ve hit the jackpot: a chair all to yourself. Time to sit back, relax and enjoy the zen of solitude. The sun is shining on you like a warm hug. Snow falls like glitter confetti from the sky. Birds chirp to the tune of Lipps Inc.’s “Funkytown.” This day is perfect! A little too perfect … You grow suspicious. That’s when you realize the person on the chair ahead of you has been ripping fat bowls the entire ride, their smoke drifting directly back into your face, and now you’re high as a kite. Hey, at least your head feels a little better, right?

• The Litter: Any chance you had of ending the day without a violent migraine vanishes the moment you get squished onto a lift with five tiny ski racers. These kids talk as fast as they ski, which is to say at Mach speed, and their coach is nowhere to be seen. In the seven minutes it takes to get from the base to the top of the mountain, they imprint on you. You’re their mother now.

• The Miffed Mom: Maybe you’d like to take care of her kid for a few hours? She’s seen how good you are with children. Ha ha, just kidding! It’s just that her husband ditched her with their 5½-year-old this morning and has been completely MIA ever since, but she’s not mad. Unrelated question: did your parents get divorced and, if so, how did it affect you mentally as a child? 

• The Influencer: Give this person a wide berth because whether they’re on the slopes or on the chair, they’re gonna be swinging around a GoProMaxInsta360SelfieStick with a 6-foot wingspan. Their inability to get down the mountain safely is irrelevant because their goal is to produce “content,” which generally means standing in the middle of the run, snapping pics of their ’fit until it’s time to head to the base for après bevvies. The only thing bigger than their need for attention is their wildly impractical fox fur cossack hat. A few of the hairs will inevitably fly into your mouth.

• The DJ: What you really need toward the end of a long day on the slopes is some peace and quiet, but you’ll be hard-pressed to find either of those riding alongside someone with a JBL speaker. They love to share their highly refined musical palette with the world, yet somehow this person exclusively manages to play songs you hate. It’s always “My Humps” and Imagine Dragons, never “Freebird.”

• The Kevin McCallister: You’ve reached your “two more skip the last” lap of the day. Thankfully only one (mercifully quiet) kid is on the chairlift with you. Except, hmm, they seem a little young to be riding the lift alone ... How old could they be? Five, maybe six? That’s when the kid turns to you with a big, missing-front-tooth smile and says, “Can you help me find my mom and dad? I’m lost.” 

– Addyson Santese