The Rope Tow

The diabolical surface lift of all time- the rope tow.

I posted about the poma lift back in January of 2022 and gave everyone some funny stories of that iconic surface lift for skiing. Check out my archives for that story. This post will feature what I call the diabolical demon of surface lifts- the rope tow. Now before I start my rant, I wanted to tell you a bit of trivia. For those who don’t ski, or those who have never had the pleasure of ripping your gloves apart on a rope tow, this lift is historical. In fact, the grandfather of my friend in Tahoe, donated the first rope to Clinton Gilbert who installed the first rope tow in this country on his farm in Vermont in 1934. Powered by a Model T engine. Interestingly of local note, Adolph Dupre, the original owner of Seven Springs Farm( now Mountain Resort) created his first rope tow in 1935. Skiing was becoming very popular in the 30s and lifts were springing up all over the country. But, Clinton Gilbert was the first in Vermont and Eric Durfee’s grandpap was part of the historical lore of the first tow in America.

Photo courtesy of Eric Durfee- originally of Bethel, Vermont

So what is the deal on the rope tow? Well- when you are a kid learning to ski, this is the first major obstacle besides stopping that you have to overcome if you want to keep skiing. There are only so many times you are going to walk up the hill tripping over your skis until you get the bright idea that it is time to take a ride to the top. When I was a kid learning at 7 years old, I ventured over to a red tractor in the “beginner bowl” that powered a fast moving rope that you had to grab to tow you up the hill. Most rope tows are powered by automobile engines or tractors and the red tractor at Seven Springs was the first time I had seen a rope tow.(For those of you who don’t know- this was before the hotel was built and it was in that general area.) I studied it for a while, watched the other kids have success, or no success or somewhere in between, and eventually grabbed the rope and went for a ride. I was amazed at the car wheel pulleys that were used to stabilize the rope where it returned back to the engine. One big continuous loop of speedy, thick, glove burning rope.

Rope tows move fast and when you finally get into place with your skis, muster up enough courage to slowly let the rope move through your hands, and then take the eventual grab, you either were successful or you basically exploded out of your boots and went ass over tincups off to the side of the hill. Lots of laughs were had by fellow kids learning, and we all had our turn embarrassing ourselves by grabbing the powerful, fast- moving rope too quickly. We also learned that you must never have loose fitting scarves, jackets, or other bits of clothing that might get caught in the rope. That was pure unvarnished danger and there were signs everywhere warning you of the impending doom of that kind of mistake.

As kids, we also learned that it was fun to grab the rope, swing out to the side, and see if we could knock our fellow riders out of the track. The lift attendants always took a dim view of that and chastised us when we got to the top, threatening to take our passes. But nonetheless, we became experts at riding the fast- moving surface lift of doom. We all figured out ways to make it fun going up.

The result of riding the rope tows, was the fact that your gloves took a major beating with the grabbing of the fast- moving rope. We all tried leather glove liners, thicker gloves, mittens, and everything we could think of to keep the burning rope from destroying our gloves. But usually to no avail and it was those times where we graduated to the poma lifts, or to the chair lifts. But as kids, we had our fun on the rope tows and fond memories of dragging each other in and out of the snow tracks, will always be in my mind.

Today- a lot of smaller, family run areas still have rope tows and even the larger areas use them to get from one major lift to another across a flat area. But for the most part, modernization with slower moving chair lifts, and surface lifts like the magic carpets, have replaced the rope tows. Everytime I grab a rope tow to make my way to another lift, I think of all the fun times I had as a kid. I mean, we lived on those rope tows even when we were night skiing. In the early days, we would kill ourselves trying to get back up if we had fallen in the track, looking like we had been in a blizzard covered with snow, and making our way into the lodge for a hot chocolate and a warm -up by the fire- only to go back out and have at it again. The rope tow never stopped except when it was shut off for the ski session by an attendant. It just kept running and running, killing our gloves, punishing us if we grabbed too hard, and in general showing us who was boss. 62 years later, I still give some pause any time I have to use one and make sure that I gradually grab the rope. Exploding out of my boots at my age could be catastrophic and my experience from long ago serves me well when I approach these mechanical devices. Hopefully everyone will have an opportunity sometime in their skiing lives to use a rope tow, poma lift, or t-bar. They are becoming more and more extinct with maybe the exception of the t-bar in Europe. But for the most part, surface lifts can be as much fun going up as skiing is going down. Especially as a kid, or in my case, a kid in my own mind. Thanks for reading and think snow.

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The Skiing is Good to Excellent

Kinda looks like this in early season.

This cartoon always cracks me up because in a lot of ways, it describes early season skiing anywhere, but particularly here in the Mid -Atlantic. The title line above is what I heard from the former Director of Skiing at Seven Springs Mountain Resort- Lars Skylling, when I would call the ski report incessantly as a kid. ” The skiing is good to excellent with a few izzzzzzzzzy spots.” This time of year, I still look at the ski reports and hope for the best to get an early start around here. People ask me all the time why I ski locally when I get the opportunity to take several trips out west during the season. I tell them that I live and work in the Mid-Atlantic, and if I only skied out west, I would only have a few weeks a year to make turns. Maybe someday I will spend more of the season out west, but for the time being, I ski here and look forward to our trips.

Yours truly at Seven Springs Mountain Resort as a kid. Wooden skis, cable bindings, and leather, lace, boots with the old ski lodge in the background.

So back to local skiing. Typically, whenever anything is open at our local resorts, I will make the trip up to ski. I am a turnpike pounder and could drive that in my sleep. Generally speaking, it has been a good 7-8 months since I have last made a turn and I miss the feeling. Last season, I finished in May at Mammoth, so my time off skis is a little less. But as soon as anything is open, I will go and make some turns. Yes- with the popularity of season passes by Epic and Ikon, a lot of areas look like the cartoon in early season. But I try to get out locally, really early, and when the throngs come crashing in, I leave and wolf down a sandwich on the way home. If it rains, and the cover is good at the areas, I will don the Gore Tex and ski in the rain. Around here, if you don’t ski in foul weather, you don’t ski much. My western friends laugh at me when I say I ski in the rain, but I do what I have to do to get my limited days in during the season. I have really good foul weather skiing and MTB clothing. I ride in the winter too. This is my 62nd year of skiing and my protocol has not changed much at all.

One of my oldest skiing buddies- Dixon Rich. We are still skiing Laurel Mountain together after all these years.
Jan and I on a nice day at Laurel Mountain.

Like mountain biking, I have my local crowd and we all look forward to the season opener. The camaraderie and the nice feeling of seeing your posse for another ski season is always gratifying. Sure, in the beginning of the season, you tend to ski on limited terrain with big crowds. You head is on a swivel as you make endless laps on only a couple of slopes and trails. When it becomes unbearable, the best thing is to leave so you don’t get creamed by an out- of -control yahoo. People get a little crazy at the beginning of the year- new equipment, frenzy to get out, and oftentimes out of control. Janet will only ski during the week, so we will take some days locally to get her ready for the west, but during the week, you pretty much have the areas to yourself. The weekend crowds are the killer- but again, get out early and make those early season turns, and then make like a tree and leave. Once you get your turn fix, you are good. Even if you are there for only a short time.

Dixon, Melissa and Jaime- the Laurel regulars
Tina, Shark and John. Mountain bike and ski pals
Porter and Hiller at Holimont. Have skied with these guys for years and we always make the treks to Western New York to ski the Lake Erie Fluff. Especially when it is not quite ready around here.

You know, the older I get, the more I appreciate the camaraderie of the local crowd at ski season time. It is great to see everybody again especially if you have not seen them all summer. Yes- climate change and global warming is a real thing. We don’t have the snow around here like we had as kids, but we all make the best of it. The skiing may be limited, but the apres’ is never limited with a beverage or two to celebrate the day. I talk about skiing year- round- even on mountain bike rides. You either are hooked or you are not. I have been hooked since I was seven years old and hammering the phone for the ski report. I couldn’t wait for Mr. Rose to call and tell me he was picking me up for the weekend. What a great way to grow up. On the floor of the Rich’s cabin, in sleeping bags, every weekend. I have always felt so fortunate to be able to ski and at least have some local options. People bad mouth local skiing but what the heck, it is better than sitting on the couch moaning about the weather. Ski local, ski in the shitty weather, and when you are finished, you will be glad you made the effort. Skiing is social also, so if nothing else, it is cool to hang with your buds and talk…………..skiing.

So, here we are. Anxiously awaiting another season. Hoping that the crowds are not as bad as the cartoon above, but so what!! I will be there – rain or shine, head on a swivel, happy to once again make those arcs in the snow. Thanks for reading and think snow.

Lets Goooooooooo!!!!!!!!

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“A Common Field One Day, A Field of Honor Forever”

The Tower of Voices

One of the first things you notice as you drive into the entrance of the Flight 93 National Memorial is a large tower on the left called the Tower of Voices. As Janet and I parked the car and got out to inspect the monument, we learned that there are 40 wind chimes in the tower representing the 40 passengers and crew that were lost on that fateful day of September 11, 2001. The chimes only ring with a 15 mile an hour wind and when we visited this weekend, it was sunny and beautiful with virtually no wind or breeze. So, we could not hear the chimes. But the silence was a way for us to begin our tour of very sacred ground near Shanksville, Pa.

We don’t have many National Parks near us and even though Janet and I have visited many of them, to have one so close to home is a real blessing. This one has a special feel and was developed in 2002. The Memorial Plaza and the Wall of Names opened to the public on September 11, 2011. The Visitor Center complex was completed 4 years later, and the Tower of Voices completed the memorial design on September 20,2020.

The Wall of Names

As with a lot of the National Parks, the scenery is spectacular, and the layout of this particular memorial park is so well done. You can walk along the Memorial Plaza following the boundary of the crash site to see the Wall of Names which are individually marked sections with each of the passengers and crew’s names. Seeing this from a distance, it looks like a single wall. The park rangers told us that was by design to show the unified action of the passengers and crew that day. A 17 ton sandstone boulder shows the visitor the exact site of the crash. The debris field is still the final resting place for the crew and passengers that day. The impact was so great that there was hardly anything left, save for some surviving items and pieces of the plane that were recovered in the weeks that followed the crash.

The Impact Site

As we walked along the path, I remarked that it is amazing to see how much open land is in the park and how providential it was for the flight to go down and not kill any residents of the area. But the real somber moments are when you walk into the Visitor’s Center and see the films playing the events of that fateful day- the two buildings in New York, the Pentagon and the open field in Shanksville, Pa. The final actions and the bravery of those passengers and crew most likely saved the Capitol building in Washington, DC which was 20 minutes flying time away and the intentional target of the terrorists. Walking through the center, you can see the video presentations, and hear the conversations from the flight deck. You see the crew and passengers and take in the enormous bravery it took for them to overtake the hijackers and crash the plane instead of having it be the intended weapon bound for our nation’s capital.

Time has a way of numbing or even erasing the horrific events of that day. It has been 22 years and sometimes we tend to get complacent or even forget those fiery moments when our country was attacked. As you exit the Visitor’s Center and make your way along the path, the silence of those walking, together with Janet and I not talking much, indicated the reverence for that place. When the events are brought back into your eyesight and you remember that day, it is a feeling that you will never forget once you are reminded again with a visit to the Flight 93 Memorial. Busloads of kids started to show up as we were exiting and talking with the park rangers, they say this is a common occurrence. This is history and we thought it was so great that the young people today not only are educated on those events, but have the opportunity to visit a beautiful park dedicated to extraordinary bravery. Jan and I both remarked how hopeless and frightening it must have been for that crew and passengers to be herded into the back of the plane knowing without a doubt this would be their final minutes on this earth. But the heroism of several of the passengers, not wanting the hijacking to be successful, was unthinkable. When you see their faces and know what they did to save others, you get a sense of what it takes to be a true hero. Those passengers that day were all true heroes and the individual panels dedicated to each of them on the Wall of Names, is a fitting tribute that will stand the test of time.

As Jan and I exited the park, the mood in the Jeep was definitely somber. A visit to the park will not only be visually stimulating,, but when you see all the events brought back to you with the videos and displays at the Visitor’s Center, you will once again remember the horrible set of events that took place that day- 22 years ago. It seems like yesterday.

Congress designated the crash site as a national memorial in 2002. Paul Murdoch Architects and Nelson Byrd Woltz Landscape Architects won the international design competition in 2005. The memorial has been created through a public private partnership including the Families of Flight 93, Friends of Flight 93, National Park Foundation, and the National Park Service. To learn more about how you can support the memorial visit http://www.flight93friends.org

We love the National Parks. This is one that everyone in the country should visit in their lifetime. Never forget, be vigilant, and thanks for reading.

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The Wall of Names.
Memorial Beam shown on anniversary of 9/11- Courtesy of Tim Chappell. From his deck.