Ride Up - Slide Down

I remember that season tickets were inexpensive for school children but still, few locals could afford it. My father had two passes. The rest of us worked on the ski patrol to earn our tickets.

Since the sheaves did not have the rubber liners we use today, the lift was noisy and gave a substantial jerk through each tower as the attached T Bar went through the wheel. On the T Bar, you stood upright, leaning back and letting the device pull you along. If you sat, you sprawled very unceremoniously, in the snow. There was great glee and constant entertainment in watching new try to maneuver their way, but we also felt distress at the delay and only hoped they would be dragged out of the track so we could keep going. A skier had to lean in slightly - however, if your partner was big and leaned out, you were now on your inside ski and at risk of falling.

For us, it would be the end of the world if we ever fell!

Up the first hill - a slight dip where the T Bar was out of sight from the one behind. We could always jump off and be halfway down Cold Spring Trail before our friends even knew we were gone. It made for a great game of tag! Cold Spring was an old access road to the top of the first hill. Then the T Bar went through a short dip. The T Bar, at this point, was at full length of its cable. Our legs were short and we were now in the air, so we would start doing 360's. The skill came in being pointed up the hill when we reached the next hill and finally touched down. Riding backwards on the T Bar didn't last long.

We reached the flat before the steep hill. We got off here only in the event that we wanted to jump the table top on the last hill off the Hudson. If so, the whole crowd would exit here to get in more jumps.

On to the steep hill. A hard shake through the bottom Tower and we were suddenly going straight up. I would be pressed against the Bar like I had pulled "3 g's." The big rock, about a third of the way up, hugged the right lift line like a lead-off batter. It really caused no problems except that this was a critical spot where T Bar cables broke. With a break, we were motionless for a fraction of a second, and then suddenly, we would be whizzing downhill backwards. The majority of us who encountered such a snag, ended up doing a few back flips. It took real talent to jump to the side and stay on your skis. If you fell, you checked for skiers and did a quick tuck down the lift line and took the halfway connection to the Hudson Trail. The rest of the ride would be uneventful except as we passed the Wall (the steep hill on the Hudson) the adrenalin would start pumping as I studied my line for the next run. There was a slight dip, I recall, before the final gentle hill. A few would fall off here and there, and there always seemed to be a few climbing the last hill.

At the top, you exited to the right to go down the Hudson Trail or further to the left to access the Ridge, Oak Ridge, or Rabbit Pond Trails.

The lift lines might be long during the Holiday Season or on Sunday when more of us were free to ski. We learned to press for every advantage to move forward in the lift line. While the socially conscious skier looked toward his group and engaged them in conversation, I am sorry to say we would slither through any small opening, taking full advantage of their attempts at conversation, but we were righteously offended if anyone tried to pass us, planting a pole between their skis in a no-nonsense manner that completely halted forward motion. If we skied with a group, though, we stayed in line, preventing other loners from passing, and enjoyed the crowd. Loud analysis of our own and other skiers' techniques and abilities was commonplace. If O'Brien was in the crowd, those in front hung back and those in back pressed forward to hear his continuous stream of comments. It was like having our own Jackie Gleason!

As mentioned earlier, the T Bar cable frequently broke. On one occasion, it did just that and O'Brien and Kenneally, who were big, stood ready, looked to the center and the attendant handed them the T Bar, which they placed on their butts. They did not move. They did not try to decrease friction by sliding their skis. No go.

The cable broke. The attendant handed them the second T Bar with, again, the same results. He handed them a third. Again no movement, and the T Bar broke. The crowd was howling with laughter. Thank God the fourth T Bar was strong or they might have stripped the lift!
On days without a crowd, we could make about thirty runs. Joe Allard was hired to run the mechanics of the ski lift and it took a good deal of effort. His son, Ray Allard, became a great skier and is now in charge of professional ski instructors' certification. 

HOW THE T-BAR HAPPENED