Update: The New Chair 6

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Vertol Helicopter putting the final touches on the bullweel.

Vertol Helicopter putting the final touches on the bullweel. PC Andrew Longstreth

A few months ago, I had to break some very bad news to my husband that. “Honey, we broke your chairlift.” This is much harder than telling your husband that you dented the car. Or that you ran over his bike shoes. Or that you burned those thick New York steaks he bought special at Costco. Because I’ve had to do all those things too. This one is much, much worse. Not that he was openly upset. My husband is a cool cucumber. But still.

The new view at the top of 6. FC Jim Jarnagin

The new view at the top of 6. PC Jim Jarnagin

I also told him that he’d thank me some day, and I’ve even had to remind him of this a few times since the avalanche we set off killed the chair. Maybe not that first day when the snow was piled up thirty feet under the now destroyed lift. And maybe not in the days since then as the replacement costs have begun to create their own little debris pile.

Today, however, things are finally looking up. With beautiful weather and a really big helicopter, anything is possible. The crews flew the old towers and bullwheels out and brought in the new bullwheel. And everything fit. Lunch was open at the Summit House and plenty of patrons got a front row seat.

Out with the old and in with the new. I suppose it’s true that everything does happen for a reason.

Now I’m counting down the days until first ride on the new Chair 6. The view at the top of the new lift is looking pretty darn good.

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4 responses »

    • Hugh says he wants to build a little tent site down there to wait for the first ride. We should stage a camp out. Of course there’s always the possibility of a contest for first chair…

  1. I can’t imagine what you were thinking as that avalanche headed right toward the lift and the moments after when you realize that you had to tell the hubby.

    • I don’t remember what I was thinking either. My mind was like a dark well. All I could think of was, No No No No NO NO NO. And then I leaned over and put my hands on my knees and tried not to get sick. And then I remembered, mercifully, that my cell phone battery was dead. So at least I didn’t have to tell him right away. But of course he already knew. He carries a radio just like the rest of us.

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