Welcome to Snap Two Ski

The first time I brought my son skiing, he was nineteen months old.

I had taken the year off to stay home with him. I had time to plan. I had tethers ready, excited coworkers waiting, and a full vision of how the day was going to go. I knew the boots were too big — a big mistake in the ski world! I stretched the rules a bit and put 3 pairs of thick socks on him anyway.

We made it two runs.

The video from that day is just me holding him up while his feet brushed the snow. As an instructor, it felt like a complete failure, as a dad it felt like a win for the ages.

We watched that video all through the summer. He loved seeing himself "skiing!"

By the time the next season came, he was ready to rip. Fully stoked, because he was already a skier.

Looking back on my first day as an instructor at Hyland Hills in Minnesota, I had no clue what the Hot Cocoa Club was.

When I checked in for my first shift, they asked if I was excited for it. I said absolutely — but what is the Hot Cocoa Club? A few minutes later I met Pizza Pam and Ropetow Robyn, two people who had been running this program together for over twenty years and didn't look like they had any intention of slowing down.

Pizza Pam had invented the tethers. She was a former preschool teacher with the kids' transitions hardwired into her DNA. She never missed a beat. Not once. The schedule lived inside her like a second heartbeat; nametags, welcome song, story time, skis on, skis off, puppets, skis back on again, cocoa, snack, another story, etc… Every child who came through felt held by it without knowing why.

Ropetow Robyn was the other half of that equation. She could get a kid from refusing to put their boots on in the chalet to making real turns down the bunny hill — to saying "just one more run! I want to try the chairlift" — without saying hardly a word. She had a gift for meeting kids exactly where they were and quietly moving them forward.

I watched that puzzle piece fit for years before I ever imagined I'd be the one carrying it forward.

I came back year after year, and sometimes I wondered why?

The truth is, I didn't really have a choice. Well, that's not quite right — of course I always had a choice; I just couldn't see my life without making the same one; teaching at the Hot Cocoa Club.

I had coached a little before, youth soccer, entertaining the kids at the holiday parties, etc. I knew I liked it. But this was different. Teaching kids on snow; the little kids, the first days, the boots that were completely foreign and the snowpants that were too puffy and parents watching the magic firsthand gave me something I hadn't found anywhere else. A different kind of self worth. The kind you can't manufacture. The kind that comes from a kid who wouldn't look at you at the start of the day and won't stop talking to you by the end of it.

I kept coming back looking for that. And every single time, I found it.

There's a moment I carry with me.

I don't like to pick favorites, because the honest answer is that every kid leaves a mark. Some days each kid has a breakthrough every run and I get to play the hero instructor. Some days nobody wants to ski with me and everybody wants to have a tantrum and so I go home a little humbled. That's just how it goes.

But if I zoom in on one day — there was a little boy who needed the tethers because both of his parents used wheelchairs. I didn't fully understand what I was signing up for when I agreed to take him out. When we got out to the snow, his dad had rolled out with us, and there was a mono ski sitting there waiting. He asked me to help hold it steady while he transferred himself in and got his outriggers on.

And then the three of us just skied.

Me on the tethers with the little boy. Dad ripping turns right alongside us.

I'm not sure I have the words for what that day was. I just know that it showed me, firsthand, what it looks like when skiing belongs to a family, completely. I saw it right there on that hill and I haven't forgotten it.

When Pizza Pam first asked me about getting involved with the future of Snap Two Ski, I was honored in a way I didn't expect.

I knew what the Hot Cocoa Club had given me. I knew what it meant to the families who came through it. I believe, genuinely, that it's one of the things that makes Hyland Hills and Midwest skiing special — not because it's flashy, but because it builds skiers and ski families for the sake of skiing itself. No other reason.

I'm happy and honored to carry the torch forward.

If you're reading this, you're probably a parent.

You're probably a little nervous. Maybe more than a little. You're wondering if your kid is ready. If you're ready. If it's worth the cold and the gear and the drive and all of it.

I want you to know: It doesn't count as skiing with your kids unless you forget something. It's impossible to pack enough snacks. I have bought new mittens from the shop after spending all week reminding other parents not to forget their mittens. I have been exactly where you are, standing at the bottom of a hill I know better than most, humbled all over again by how much this takes.

It doesn't matter.

You found this because you want to do this. That's the only thing that matters. There are a lot of people out here who will gladly help you — I'm one of them. Keep an open mind for what progress can look like. Meet your kid where they are. Embrace the adventure.

Every day out there can be the next best day ever.

That's why we're here.

Andrew R.

I'm Andrew — a dad, PSIA Level 3 Certified Ski Instructor, and owner of Snap Two Ski. You can learn to ski anywhere — but this is where kids learn to love it.

This is where I'll share everything I know and everything I'm learning about helping kids and families learn to love skiing. See ya next time!