A rusty companion that has remained.
If somewhere in western Switzerland a platter lift creaks, an old wheel rattles in the mountain station, and the snow gives way roughly under your skis, then it's often not far away: the Poma Lift. Not just any lift, but a piece of alpine heritage. Not loudly marketed, not modernized, not equipped with heated seats. Instead, it's raw, honest, and deeply familiar.
You recognize it instantly. By the sound it makes. By the plate that hangs a little too low. By the rusty mechanism that has leaned against the slope for decades, as if it were keeping winter itself in motion. Anyone who has ever ridden it never forgets it.
Invented out of necessity, built to last forever
The origins of this lift date back to 1936. Jean Pomagalski, a French engineer with a practical bent, built the first functional detachable T-bar lift with a platter in Alpe d'Huez. His idea wasn't spectacular, but it was revolutionary. A simple pole, attached to a haul rope, would pull skiers up the mountain. Fast, inexpensive, efficient. No frills. Just function.
The name Pomagalski became "Poma." And Poma became synonymous with a type of ski lift that made skiing accessible to an entire generation. Especially in western Switzerland, in small ski resorts in Valais, the Jura Mountains, or around the canton of Vaud, the Poma lift was often the first one ever used. And often the last one remembered.
A device that does more than transport people.
Technically speaking, the Poma lift is an anachronism. Jerky at the start, inflexible in its operation, unforgiving of mistakes. Getting on demands concentration. The first few meters are a test of balance and nerves. But as soon as the ski tips glide smoothly and the platter pulls evenly, something else begins. Something calmer. Something deeper. A kind of alpine meditation.
Your gaze sweeps across the snow-covered landscape. The wind whistles in the masts. The sounds are metallic, yet familiar. The slope lies before you, still untouched. And in this silent ascent, you realize you're experiencing more than just transportation. You're experiencing a memory. A return to something primal.
Not comfortable, but honest
In an age where chairlifts are heated and cabins are equipped with Wi-Fi, the Poma Lift seems like a relic. And yet – or perhaps precisely because of this – it attracts those seeking the authentic. No comfort, no gimmicks. Just you, the slope, and a rusty mechanism that carries you uphill.
Many snowboarders and skiers associate their first memories of winter sports with a Poma lift. Falls on the way up. Waiting in the wind. Getting your poles tangled. And of course: the pride of reaching the top without falling off.
A relic that refuses to disappear
Despite their robustness and cult status, Poma lifts are now threatened with extinction. Modern lifts offer greater capacity, more comfort, and less risk for beginners. And so, year after year, they are decommissioned or replaced.
But in certain regions, especially in small, locally run ski resorts, they are lovingly maintained. Not just for budgetary reasons, but because they are a piece of living history. And because they work.
More than just an elevator: a memory that travels
The Poma lift is uncomfortable, loud, and sometimes unpredictable. But it's honest. It represents a time when skiing wasn't a luxury, but a passion. When the mountain wasn't staged, but simply existed.
Riding a Poma lift is not just an ascent, but also a feeling. A feeling of winter, childhood, beginnings. Of steel and snow. Of culture.
A rise that lasts
Perhaps the classic Poma lift will soon be gone. But its legacy remains. In old photos. In anecdotes told with laughter around the mountain hut table. And in the way we see the Alps: not as a place of comfort, but as a space for genuine experiences.
Anyone who has ever ridden a Poma lift knows: It's not comfortable. But it stays.
Sources:
Wikipedia – Poma (company)
Ropewaygrips.ch – Poma T-bar Lifts
Berghistorie.ch / Bergbahnen.org
Poma Group (poma.net)
