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Last Chair, Last Call in Montana

Reid Morth

The neon was bright and the one pieces tight at the local mountain’s season ender here in Montana. This was of course after I made it to the mountain after picking up the pieces from the night before’s last chair party that seamlessly blended into last chair morning. Finding people and loosing people in the car pool, gear explosion that usually ensues after such an event had left us worried about our friend Shane who had called to inform us he had been pulled over en route and we instantly feared a daytime DUI.

Photo: Reid Morth

A crowd gathers at the top lift for the last day of the season celebration, Montana.

Photo:Reid Morth

Duncan getting the dance party started with his ghetto blaster, at the 2011 end the season party.

Being the concerned friends we are, we gave our obligatory “Ah man, sh#%. I hope Shane doesn’t get a DUI” and headed off to the mountain. At the mountain and after the multiple choice of ticket clipping, ticket swapping or green pass we opted for B and before no time Kevin, Kirby, Shay, Carson, Jim and the rest of the growing gang met at the mid-mountain lift. I couldn’t have paid for that kind of fun literally and figuratively – tomahawking, naked skiing and enough neon to blister your eyeballs matched with moose knuckles, division symbols and other varieties of mystery meat zipped snugly into retro ski gear so classic one could weep with nostalgia.

The last day of the season is about riding with good friends and getting in those last lift access turns for the season and after an internal struggle I ditched the camera gear. Not long after, Shane met back up with us and it was off to endless options of wall / cat track hits and a few laps with the Bomb Snow boys. The sun came out in the afternoon right on cue for a massive of gathering at the top lift where the celebration continued well after the lifts closed and eventually graduated to a meadow just out of bounds where a fire pit gap and snow benches accommodated a smaller handful of us having to much fun to call it just yet.

The party moved from the mountain back to town and as the midnight hours rolled in, our crew dwindled down and the karaoke was up – Shane and Todd laid down a spicy version of Garth Brook’s – I’ve got friends (in low f—ing places). I was thoroughly impressed with the impromptu but the bar was a gallery of shell shocked faces and somewhere between Garth Brooks and our ridiculous outfits a fight broke out and after a few tables got overturned and a few meatheads were hauled off by the bouncers the fun was back on track – the beers and good times kept rolling all the way to last call.