Stout fans test gondola at Silver Mtn. BrewFest

The recent newspaper stories about the gondola cars on the tram going to the top of Kellogg’s Silver Mountain had caused me some anxiety. Somebody had alleged that the maintenance on the tram was spotty.

I had tickets to BrewFest, held last Saturday in the Silver Mountain amphitheater.

I am a big man, more than a scootch over 200 pounds. Hauling me to the top of the mountain should be a rigorous test for the gondolas.

Unfortunately, on the way down with a belly full of heavy microbrew beer, I would weigh more than a fully equipped Olds 98 station wagon. That trip would test every strand of the gondola’s cable.

To make the whole episode more of a challenge, my buddy, also 6-foot-4 (albeit more svelte than myself) would be my gondola partner along with my wife. The weight of the two of us men would, it was hoped, be compensated for by the lack of body mass of my underfed wife, whom I specifically asked to skip breakfast on that Saturday morning.

My wife and buddy exuded a bright adventurous spirit as we boarded the gondola.

Apparently they had not read the newspaper articles on the alleged tram maintenance problems. Nor had they done the math on the floor bearing strength of mere reinforced plate metal. As our gondola crossed over the first ridgetop, I realized there were several more ridges (as far as the eye could see) before we reached the tram landing zone.

My body size worked against me again; there was no chance that I could escape out the window to drop onto a soft bed of pine trees. I was stuck on this gondola to the end.

But I bucked up. Then unbucked and told my wife and buddy about the tram maintenance reports while blinking back the tears.

They did not comprehend the gravity of the situation. They were not going to hit the ground below with the mass of a collapsed neutron star, like me.

The gondola arrived at the top with only minor groaning and a bit of shaking.

The BrewFest was humming along above all the sober world below. Regional breweries peddled their barley and hop potions. Too Slim and the Tail Draggers were the closing band, and it began the last half of the show, in which Slim picks out an infectious boogie.

The heated music charged up the rather large, carefree group of hops and barley lovers who were dancing in front of the bandstand. Many appeared to have gone to the dance area with the I’ll-find-a partner-when-I-get-there approach, a common strategy at events built around barley and hops.

I noticed two things:

1) “Too Slim” is older and maybe should change his name to just plain “Slim.” (No offense Slim; that recommendation is coming from an admitted fat guy.)

2.) A shirtless man (also heavier than an Olds 98 station wagon – with a full tank of gas and a clamp-on trailer hitch) was running through the audience with his arms extended from his sides and “banking” left and right while making sounds like an airplane.

A horrific thought struck me.

That airplane man had to return to Kellogg on the gondola!

I relayed my fear to my wife and buddy, and we hurried to the tram boarding area, but the gondola line was already getting long. Apparently, others had also seen the jumbo jet winging through the audience.

I inserted us into the line next to a petite trio who altogether weighed less than Lance Armstrong’s racing bike.

At the last minute, the gondola operator held us back and directed us to board with a mother, father and son, each of whom could have held me up in the air on a teeter-totter.

Yes, this gondola was going down.

We squeezed in and the ride began. The mother needed three legs to walk so had a cane in hand.

Whenever her 21-year-old son misbehaved (stuck his head out the window or lighted a cigarette), mom would use a quick cane rotation to pop the lad on his knee.

The son’s knee was next to my knee. Knees don’t look that much different in the dim light of a doomed gondola car.

This dread of the cane stroke kept my mind off the fraying tram cable.

It seemed only a moment until we were back on the ground in suburban Kellogg. I patted the side of the car and marveled at the tonnage capacity of these gondolas.

My wife spotted the drops rolling down my cheeks.

“You brought us home safely, Captain. You’re a hero to all the passengers.” She was mocking me with a line from an old airplane movie.

I will return to BrewFest next summer.

But I’m going to watch what I eat, exercise more and lose a few pounds.