Hunter Mountain has removed the bar that anchored its base lodge since 1964, four years after the ski area opened, and is building a new one facing the slopes.

Corduroys, named for freshly groomed ski trails that resemble the ridges of corduroy pants, is expected to open this winter on the opposite side of the lodge, said Chuck Randles, the resort’s vice president and general manager. The old bar’s space will become cafeteria seating.

“Overwhelmingly, the first reaction I’ve heard is, ‘It’s about time,’” Randles said.

Some longtime bartenders and skiers, though, will miss the old bar, where locals and weekend visitors gathered for decades.

“This bar is a piece of history,” said Jerry Villanova, 70, who worked there from 1983 until the pandemic shut the resort in March 2020.

Villanova remembered the house drinks: the Dirty Banana, a White Russian with banana liqueur, and the Broken Leg, hot apple cider with Old Crow bourbon. The lodge also sold cigars behind the bar. He stayed long enough to see “kids I used to give Shirley Temples, now they’re drinking at the bar.”

Skiers had long asked for a place to have a drink while looking at the mountain, said Sarah Slutzky, director of mountain operations and a granddaughter of former owner Orville Slutzky.

“On a Tuesday afternoon, if you were looking for a plumber or a lawyer or a doctor, that was the place you could find them,” Villanova said.

When Villanova started, a 12-ounce beer cost $1.25. On weekends, six bartenders worked side by side, and the crowds were thick enough, he joked, that “the safest spot was behind the bar.”

The bar’s many angles were modeled on the bottom of a rocks glass, said Greene County Legislator Daryl Legg, 60, who represents the towns of Hunter, Lexington, and Halcott. He started bartending at the resort in 1988.

“Anywhere you sat there was an angle you could see everyone,” said Jon Hagopian, 58, who tended the bar from 1994 to 2022. “And then a Neil Diamond or a Billy Joel song would come on and the whole place would erupt into song.”

The bar closed at 6 p.m., a decision Villanova attributed to Orville Slutzky’s desire to send business into town.

Villanova remembered the Slutzkys serving employees at staff parties and working alongside them on holidays.

“The family worked Christmas Day! Orville, Ethel, Izzy, everybody worked Christmas Day,” he said. “You’re never going to see that scenario again. A very unique family.”

They kept high standards. Orville Slutzky wanted an inch of head on every beer, Villanova said, and “a couple of times Orville chased Jon home to get a haircut.”

February brought races for bartenders, firefighters, and nurses on three straight days.

“I used to say, ‘Doesn’t anybody work?’” Villanova said, laughing.

Hagopian remembered about 600 firefighters filling the lodge for the first Firefighters Race after 9/11.

“There was a moment of silence and then the bagpipes came in and there was not a dry eye in the space,” he said.

Polka bandleader Jimmy Sturr played the mountain’s festivals, and Bud Harrelson, shortstop for the 1969 Mets, once sat beside Villanova at the bar.

“If I knew someone was there I left them alone,” Villanova said. “They’re just trying to enjoy themselves.”

The Slutzkys sold the resort to Peak Resorts in 2015. Little changed at the bar, Villanova said, except “now we took credit cards.” Vail Resorts bought Peak in 2019, months before the pandemic cut short the ski season.

Hagopian remembered that last day as a mobbed Saturday. As soon as the bar closed, he said, David Kukle, the resort’s director of food and beverage, came over and told the staff that every Vail location was shutting down.

Some longtime skiers have asked for pieces of the bar. Slutzky said she wasn’t sure that would be possible.

“I met a couple today that met here,” she said. “That’s one of many, many stories of memories here. We want to honor that.”

At the end of each shift, Villanova said, the bartenders always walked out to the parking lot together.

“I hope that people will remember it in a good way,” he said. “If that bar could talk you could make a movie out of it.”

Lex Sottile is a contributing writer. Send correspondence to reporting@theoverlooknews.com.

Noah Eckstein is the editor-in-chief of The Overlook. Send correspondence to noah@theoverlooknews.com.