Shredding the Slopes of Christmas Spirit
‘Twas a week before Christmas, and all through the lodge, not a creature was stirring…except for Bryce and Todd, who were in the middle of their annual “Who’s Cooler?” argument by the fire.
“You snowboarders just sit on your butts all day,” Todd scoffed, adjusting his obnoxiously perfect neck gaiter.
“Oh, yeah? At least I don’t ski in a jacket that looks like it was stolen from the 1984 Winter Olympics,” Bryce shot back, stuffing another marshmallow into his mouth.
The bickering might have continued into eternity if the lodge’s crusty old bartender, Gus, hadn’t decided to intervene. “You two think Christmas is all about arguing over who’s cooler?” Gus growled. “Real holiday spirit comes from what you give, not what you ride. If you’re up for it, I’ve got a challenge that’ll teach you the true meaning of Christmas—or at least shut you up for a few hours.”
Bryce and Todd exchanged skeptical glances. “What kind of challenge?” Todd asked.
“Follow me,” Gus said, grinning mysteriously as he led them to a dimly lit storage room.
The Journey Begins
Gus handed them an old, dog-eared map with “Snowcap Summit” scrawled across the top. “Legend says the true spirit of Christmas lives at the peak of Snowcap. But you’ll need to work together to get there. Think you can handle it?”
Bryce snorted. “I could shred Snowcap in my sleep.”
Todd smirked. “Bet I get there first.”
“Good luck,” Gus said, chuckling ominously. “Oh, and watch out for the ice trolls.”
Trials on the Mountain
As they ascended the mountain, the rivalry remained in full force. Bryce kept carving giant S-turns in Todd’s path, forcing the skier to pole-push through uneven snow. Todd retaliated by taking the straightest, iciest runs possible, leaving Bryce to navigate moguls on his board.
But things got serious when a sudden blizzard hit. Visibility dropped to zero, and both their GoPros froze over. Bryce wiped snow from his goggles. “We should probably stick together,” he muttered.
“For safety,” Todd agreed reluctantly.
They trudged on, sharing snacks (Bryce’s pocket bacon and Todd’s energy gels), until they encountered their first real obstacle: a rickety old ski lift that looked like it hadn’t been inspected since ski boots had laces.
“I’ll go first,” Bryce offered, hopping on. But as the lift creaked upward, a pack of ice trolls—okay, they were really just some obnoxious teenagers chucking snowballs—appeared below, pelting them with surprising accuracy.
“Cover me!” Bryce yelled, while Todd used his poles like nunchucks to fend off the attack. The trolls eventually retreated, and the duo made it to the top unscathed, though Bryce’s jacket now looked like Swiss cheese.
Discovering the True Spirit
At the peak of Snowcap Summit, they found a small, glowing cabin. Inside was not Santa Claus, nor Gus, but an elderly ski patroller with a beard so long it could double as a scarf.
“Welcome,” he said warmly. “You’ve proven yourselves worthy by working together.”
Todd scoffed. “Barely.”
Bryce grinned. “Teamwork’s overrated.”
The patroller handed them a single object: a tarnished bell. “Ring this, and you’ll understand the true spirit of Christmas.”
“Is it, like, magical or something?” Bryce asked, eyeing the bell skeptically.
“Just ring it,” the patroller said, clearly over the whole cryptic-mountain-guru act.
When the bell rang, a wave of warmth spread through the room—not physical warmth, but the kind that melts even the iciest rivalry. Bryce suddenly remembered how Todd had shared his hand warmers during the storm. Todd realized Bryce had distracted the trolls so he could board the lift safely.
“Dude,” Todd said, looking genuinely touched. “Maybe snowboarders aren’t the worst.”
Bryce grinned. “You’re not so bad yourself…for a skier.”
Back at the Lodge
They returned to the lodge as friends, much to Gus’s surprise. “You two actually learned something?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Bryce said, slapping Todd on the back. “Christmas isn’t about who’s cooler. It’s about shredding life’s slopes together.”
Todd raised his hot cocoa. “And about not letting ice trolls ruin your day.”
“Cheers,” Bryce said, clinking his mug.
And from that day forward, the skier and the snowboarder made an annual tradition of tackling Snowcap Summit together—because sometimes, the best runs are the ones you don’t ride alone.
The End
May your turns be smooth, your trolls be few, and your Christmases full of powder days and unexpected friendships.
PP WaxShop 