Chairlift etiquette: how to share a seat nobody can leave

For two winters I was the stranger on the chair who wanted to talk. In 2018/19 I rode every day at Whistler, 153 days that season, living in a four-bed dorm room, and a lot of the original SkiBuds app came from ideas people gave me on the ride up. The next winter I rode 114. By March 2021 I wrote that I had stopped passing out stickers and approaching random people: "It's a different environment." So I've been on both sides of the seat, the person who starts the conversation and the person who doesn't.

A chair is one of the few places at a resort where strangers sit side by side with nothing to do and no way to leave until the top. That one fact explains most of chairlift etiquette. Whatever you do on the chair lands on the person next to you, so you say something before the bar comes down and keep your speaker in your pocket. It also explains why the chair is the easiest place on the mountain to talk to someone: the ride ends at the top whether the conversation worked or not. The short version, most of it from the NSAA's lift safety tips: fill empty seats, take your backpack off and your pole straps off your wrists before loading, look back for the chair, sit all the way back, say something before you lower the bar, and clear the ramp at the top. Then, if the person next to you seems up for it, ask about the mountain.

In the lift line, merge like a zipper and fill the chair

Where lanes come together, take turns. Cutting the merge is the fastest way to make the whole line quietly hate you. On a busy day an empty seat is everyone's wait, so if you're two people at a four-seat chair, call out for singles. If you're alone, use the singles line when there is one; it exists to fill the gaps groups leave, and it puts you next to someone new. Follow the attendant's directions for filling chairs, and let them know if someone in your group needs help or needs to stay together. And watch your tails and nose, because skis and boards stick out further than you think.

Before you load, take your backpack off

The National Ski Areas Association, the trade group for US ski areas, publishes a short list of lift safety tips, and most of loading etiquette is in it. Take your backpack off and secure loose items, and get your pole straps off your wrists. Look over your shoulder to watch the chair come; a quick glance saves a lot of bruised calves. Sit all the way back against the seat. Follow the lift attendant's instructions about preparing your equipment. Snowboarders usually unstrap one foot before loading; ask the attendant if you are unsure about the lift or your setup.

If you haven't ridden that kind of lift before, say so. The Responsibility Code says you must know how to load, ride and unload safely, and to ask the lift attendant if you need help. Telling the attendant, or the person next to you, that it's your first time isn't embarrassing. Everyone has been there.

Say something before the bar comes down

If the chair has a bar, lower it every ride. NSAA's tips say to wait until everyone is seated, then reach up and lower it slowly, and that adults should always help kids with it. If you cannot reach the bar, ask someone who can rather than stretching for it. The etiquette is saying something first. "Bar coming down" is enough. Nobody likes a bar landing on their helmet, and a heads-up gives everyone time to move hands and poles. It's often the first thing anyone says on a chair, which means that once you've said it, you've already spoken to the stranger next to you. Near the top, watch for the signs telling you when to raise it, and raise it the same way, with a word.

If you drop something, let it fall. That one is NSAA's, exclamation point included. Patrol can help you get it back later, so never jump after it, and keep your phone zipped away or in a firm grip.

Riding up: speakers are for the parking lot

Music on a chairlift is everyone's music, so keep speakers off. If you use headphones, keep the volume low enough to hear attendants and other riders. Keep the chair smoke free, because you're shoulder to shoulder with strangers and sometimes their kids. If a young rider ends up next to you, listen to the attendant's instructions, help with the bar and keep things calm.

How to talk to people on the lift

Read the chair first. Headphones in, or a couple deep in their own conversation, means a nod and a "morning" is plenty. Some winters, and some mornings, call for a quiet ride.

NSAA's list stops at safety and says nothing about talking. If you're unsure whether to say more, the best evidence I know comes from a seat shaped a lot like a chair. In a study published in 2014, Nicholas Epley of the University of Chicago and Juliana Schroeder asked train and bus commuters around Chicago to strike up a conversation with the person next to them, to sit in solitude, or to ride as usual. The ones who talked reported a better ride, and a separate group of commuters, asked to predict how it would go, guessed the opposite. Across the study's nine experiments, in the field and in a lab, people underestimated how interested strangers were in talking, and reported good experiences both from speaking and from being spoken to. A commuter train isn't a chairlift, and these were people asked to talk, in one city. But the seat is the same shape: strangers side by side with nowhere to go, and a stop where it ends.

The strongest case against chatting at all is that a chair is a small seat you can't leave until the top, and not everyone wants a stranger's conversation in it, least of all when the stranger might want something. I did, for two winters: I had an app to grow. That objection is why the openers below are about the mountain rather than the person. A question about the snow can be answered in four words, and four words and a turn back to the view is a clear answer. Take it.

• "Where have you been finding the good snow today?"
• "What's your favorite run off this lift?"
• "Are you local, or visiting?"
• "Have you ridden here when it's deep?"

None of them is about you. A local may enjoy sharing a favorite run; a visitor may want to compare notes. Either may prefer a quiet ride. Before you ask anything else, run the same check: could they answer it in four words and look back at the view without being rude? If not, save it for the lap.

Ask for one lap near the top

If the conversation is good and you're heading the same way, ask near the top: "Want to take a lap?" A simple "No problem, have a good day" is enough if they decline. Asking late leaves an easy exit if they're meeting friends. Name the terrain so nobody gets talked into a run they didn't want, and make the first one easy, since someone else's "intermediate" may not be yours. One run is low stakes. If the pace works, take another; if it doesn't, wave and go your own way. Skiing with friends of different abilities has a plan for when your riding doesn't match.

At the top, call your direction and clear the ramp

Before the ramp, say which way you're heading. "I'm going left" saves a lot of tangles, and it's also where you find out whether you're riding the next run together. Move clear of the unload area before you stop, strap in or check your phone, because the next chair is right behind you. If you fall and can move, get out of the way promptly. If you cannot, signal the attendant and follow their directions.

If the lap goes well, ask for their number before the day ends and suggest a second day at a named mountain. The meetup planner turns that into a message, and the safety page covers meeting someone new. SkiBuds is being rebuilt so the conversation can start before the lift line, with people who ride your mountain at your level. The app is coming soon; until then, skiing alone and meeting people covers planning a day on your own.

Either way, the seat you couldn't leave empties at the unload ramp. If the conversation went nowhere, you clear the ramp and ski off. If it went somewhere, you're both already standing at the top of a run.