Chairlift vs. gondola. Discuss.

(Note: This coumn is half of a "he said, she said" argument pitting chair lifts against gondolas.)

By Matt Boxler

So maybe I do need my head examined. After all, what person in his right mind would bypass the relative comfort of the gondola and choose to stay out in the elements on a chairlift? Call me what you may Dave: bullheaded, macho, just plain dumb. I prefer to think of myself as a passionate skier with common sense. And here’s why:

While you’re queued up in a never-ending maze at the bottom of the mountain, I’ll be gaining vertical, which is what I paid a small fortune to do. While you’re trudging slowly forward in your ski boots with your skis in hand (which does a nice job slicing up your gloves), I’m already off the chair and carving turns, which is what I’ve paid a small fortune to do.

On busy weekends, I can take two chairs to the summit before you can figure out that silly word riddle posted on the wall in the gondola station at Loon – something about you being an “asterisk it?” I get impatient standing in line for coffee in the morning, so there’s no way I’m going to do the same at a ski resort when I don’t have to.

I know, I admit that on blustery New England days the gondola provides warming comfort from the bitterness of the mountain. Well, if it’s warmth and comfort you seek, I suggest you stay on the couch in your condo where you can enjoy your latte with a blanket over your legs. I paid a small fortune to clothe myself properly, so I choose to be on the mountain. There’s plenty of time to be a couch potato every other day.

Too often, the gondola ride extends into a lengthy stay in the summit lodge. I watch skiers all the time walk out of the gondola to catch a cold wind in the face at the top, which compels them to march immediately into the summit lodge for a hot chocolate. Can this be what they paid a small fortune to do? It’s not like they even have to take their skis off. It makes me wonder how often during the ski season they actually have their skis on?

Aside from brain-frozen lift attendants riding the lift down after their shifts, you rarely see anyone else going the wrong way on a chairlift. Yet, it’s common to see crowded gondolas heading in both directions – probably filled with the skiers coming out of the summit lodge after their hot chocolates. I’m sorry, but taking a “lift” down is just plain blasphemy.

And let’s not forget, this is New England not the Swiss Alps. I will absolutely stand in line with a smile on my face for the gondola en route to the Klein Matterhorn because that’s the only way to get to the glacier. In New England, gondolas will be running side by side with chairlifts. Perhaps you can’t see this from the scratched up, clouded up, frosted over, stuck, opaque plastic windows you’ve chosen to surround yourself with while the glory of the scenic mountain vistas outside escape you.

Aside from mid-station access to board Killington’s Skyeship, most New England gondolas require that you descend all the way to the bottom, where all the people are massed. No thank you, I prefer staying up top for the best snow, the steepest pitches, and the most space to maneuver.

The only time you’ll find me happily riding along inside with my equipment outside is when I’m in a golf cart – because I paid a small fortune to do it. When I’m at a ski resort, I prefer to ski.