Hanging out (and on) at Ragged Mountain
by Marty Basch/
One way to catch air at Ragged Mountain is over various rock features. But our writer found another. (photo: Ragged Mountain)
by Marty Basch/
One way to catch air at Ragged Mountain is over various rock features. But our writer found another. (photo: Ragged Mountain)
The news came over the radio, and it wasn't good.
"You're about to be evac'd, mate," said New Zealander Dave Suckling, Ragged Mountain Resort's mountain manager.
"Figured that," replied Bob Fries, the area's general manager.
Suckling was on the ground and Fries was on the Spear Mountain Triple about 30 feet above the slopes on a frigid morning. Fries wasn't alone in the chair. He was with somebody.
Me.
This wasn't a drill.
Every once in a while a writer becomes part of the story whether he wants to or not. The thought of being evacuated from a chair lift didn't cross my mind that morning during the drive to the 45-trail, Danbury, N.H., ski area that is in the process of being resurrected by new owners — Utah developer RMR Pacific — and Fries, the new general manager. The small ski area off U.S. Route 104 was sold at auction in 2007 after its former owners defaulted on a loan.
Now the area is going through the permitting process for proposed 10-year expansion plans that calls for slopeside housing, new lifts, opening a third peak (Pinnacle Mountain), redoing the 18-hole golf course and more.
Opened in 1964, Ragged has the state's only six-passenger lift, the Six Pack. The new owners have invested $2 million in infrastructure, including 14,000 feet of new snowmaking pipe, new groomers, a carpet lift for beginners and a pair of new restaurants.
Freestyle skiers and riders have something new inside the Wild Slide terrain park: Wild Woods. That is a section of the park that uses natural features such as logs and huge stones instead of the rails found in many terrain parks.
But I wasn't catching air in Wild Woods. I was literally hanging out with Fries on the Spear triple (normal base-to-summit time is 12 minutes). As we ascended, the lift stopped, which is not an usual part of a chair lift experience at any ski area. It started and stopped. With Fries having a radio, we had an insider's listen at what was going on. Auxiliary power was tried. The lift moved along slower than a snail. Eventually, a hydraulic problem forced the evacuation (with the lift becoming operational the next day, Fries e-mailed).
During the evacuation, ski patrollers reached us and after several tries were able to toss a ball with a small attachment over the lift cable. With that, they were able to affix the rope with a T-bar type of rig called an excavator. The ski patrol members, unaware that one of their evacuees was the resort's GM, were friendly, asking us our names before explaining the process. Generally, they evacuated the smaller person first. Fries, a veteran of many evacuation drills, was the first to go down. Not because he was smaller, but because, as was explained to me later, I had the look of someone scared scatless, and they wanted me to see that the evacuation worked. I watched as Fries tossed down his skis and poles. We lifted the safety bar on the chair. The ski patroller was able to maneuver the T-bar to Fries. He grabbed it, put a harness around himself and then slipped the bar under his butt. Belayed below, he left the chair, spun and was easily brought to the ground.
I followed Fries' lead, though not as smoothly, as I had a thing for holding on to the chair with one hand while trying to put the harness around me with my free hand. Not exactly graceful, I, too, was lowered to the ground.
In all, nine people were rescued in about 70 minutes and got lift tickets good for another day.
A new lift for the Spear triple is in that 10-year plan.