As we came through the mid-station the other day, the lifty handed us a sticker and asked if we would put it on the cabin for him. Not really paying attention, we took the sticker and looked down. The sticker announced the final days of the Skyeship. That 1990s art gallery in the sky is being replaced (well, the cabins anyway), and even though this had been announced with the transfer of ownership, that sticker made it really hit home.
Now, don’t get me wrong. If you ride the Skyeship directly after riding the K-1, you realize pretty quickly how rickety those 32-year-old cabins have become. And how loud. But if you remember when they were first installed, how exciting and safe they were after having to sprint to get on the original gondola.
I was a young teenager when the Skyeship first went in, with all the pomp and circumstance that S-K-I and the 1990s could bring. Those zany-looking ski sweaters of the time complimented the crazy artwork that broke up the peacefulness of the mountains. These cabins didn’t blend in — they screamed for attention—especially the four super fancy ones with leather seats and metal circling the cabin. You remember, the ones that rich folks were supposed to rent for the day if you only wanted to ride the Skyeship and have perfect timing to get to your cabin again? Remember how gross those cabins were when they had the heaters running? The sweat that would be dripping, frozen, off the top of the cabins—Oh man, they would smell so bad that you almost wanted to throw up. But you couldn’t because you were too busy covering your ears from the piped-in radio static (we didn’t have internet music back then). They were supposed to have a radio, but there was no service over there, and all that we ever got was static and a bunch of steam. Hey, innovation means trying crazy, weird things, right?
The Skyeship still had some of that OG Gondola magic. The length of the first section has seen some legendary action by more of us than would care to admit. The Highship was voted one of the best places to smoke weed in High Times Magazine, and it’s been party to some great albeit long conversations. Instead of putting your roach in the little seat hole of the old cabin, you just left it on the ledge. And more than a few people have gotten off at the mid-station only to walk right back around to get back on.
But the artwork has stood the test of time—that crazy, super 1990s artwork. I still get excited when I get my favorite cabin and bummed when we just miss it. I love the joy it brings me when it comes by as I am skiing. What am I going to do when I cannot yell “Slinky!” at the top of my lungs and start bouncing up & down like one of my little athletes?
I mean, I will miss them all and the joy of screaming random made-up names for all the cabins except Green Machine. After 32 years, I still haven’t come up with a new name for that one. There’s the KROM gondola, which I use to teach my young athletes about the god of the snowmakers. The Killington gondola, of course. Or the skier or the snowboarder. The butterfly. I wonder if anyone could actually name all 45 designs.
Have you seen the Bear Attack gondola? Or the Death Star Cabin? How about the TapeWorm gondola or the Throw Up Cabin? Do you know the names of the four people naked in the Hot Tub Cabin? There were so many rumors, but I always decided it was the original Killington Kids enjoying their peace after retirement. There’s the sun and the fly on the bullseye. There’s the barbed wire and the “Pres Smith’s tax returns” one. Do you remember the molten silver gondola, I always thought that one was so cool. And purple, so that automatically made it popular for me. There’s the fish gondola, which makes absolutely no sense at a ski resort. But there it was.
Each and every cabin is unique and awesome. Although two of the slinky cabins are pretty close together on the line right now. Coaching 5- and 6-year-olds, we spend most of the entire Skyeship ride yelling out crazy new names for these art pieces…and, most importantly, looking at art. The combination of art and nature has been stunning over the years — and hasn’t lost its magic. I know the art of S. Lee, Russell Jacques, George Snyder, Rolf Knie, Raymond Yu, and Yankel Ginzburg better than I do Van Gogh or Rembrandt.
The Skyeship has been a part of the Killington experience for 32 years and was even an exhibit at the Whitney Museum of American Art. Will Killington repeat this greatness? Probably not, and for so many reasons, not the least of which is financial. But can we mourn the passing of this beautiful tribute to the 1990s while still looking forward? Absolutely.
