Hot Take: North Americans Get Lift Lines Right

On a busy bluebird Saturday at Valle Nevado, I joined the line for the Andes Express, the country’s fastest lift, a Poma that travels 1,355 feet in about six minutes. The lift itself was noticeably quicker than its nearby competition, but the mosh pit of a line to board made the efficiency irrelevant.

Despite entering the queue together, my two ski partners and I were swallowed up by skiers pushing forward in every direction. There were designated lanes, but discernible lines within them. Ski school, packs of racers, and everyone else squished together. My skis got stepped on more times than I could count (a personal pet peeve of mine), and by the time we reached the loading zone, my group had been separated. We rode up on different chairs, and not even behind one another.

Later in the day, while waiting for a single-person surface lift, I watched four skiers in a row ignore the rules of merging so they wouldn’t have to wait for one another at the top. After waiting longer than anticipating to get moving uphill, I started to wonder if maybe, just maybe, skiing in North America had a one-up on international counterparts: line etiquette.

And Chile isn’t the only place I’ve encountered this. I’ve also experienced line negentropy while skiing in Italy and Austria.

Americans get a bit of an odd rap when it comes to lines. We’re neurotic, and we value personal space maybe a little too much. But maybe, when it comes to skiing, this is our secret superpower? We take lining up, properly seriously. Just like the rules of the road, it feels dangerous to cut someone off in line, except here you’d run the risk of encountering a sea of disappointed stares and a call-out or two.

At North American ski areas, we seem to understand how to merge, and single riders naturally fill open spots. We allow families and groups to stick together. We wait our turn and don’t push and shove to get closer to the front of the line. We even employ people to direct lift line traffic on busy days.

There are plenty of things I’ve come to prefer about skiing abroad: better food, wide-open pistes, and putting the bar down immediately, for example. But when it comes to lift lines, Americans might actually have it figured out better than the rest.

Now, that doesn’t mean North American lift lines are anything to boast about. Weekends, holidays, and powder days can mean painfully long waits. But here’s my reality: I’d rather wait in a long line knowing no one is cutting in front of me (or stepping on my skis). Something about waiting my turn fair and square feels much more dignified and deserving than just pushing to the front and hoping for the best. Maybe this is just because I’m the most likely sacrificial zebra in a wild pack to get trampled, or maybe I’m just American.