Learning to Shred with Elevation Outdoors

There’s something about the mountains in British Columbia that makes you believe anything is possible. Maybe it’s the way the snow sparkles under the sun, or the crisp silence broken only by the scrape of a board across fresh powder. But the real magic, I’ve learned, isn’t in the scenery—it’s in the people who find themselves transformed by it. That’s exactly what I witnessed with Elevation Outdoors and their Learn to Shred program.

Snowboarding isn’t just a sport here; it’s part of our culture. Yet for so many kids, especially those from under-resourced backgrounds, the mountain might as well be another planet. Gear is expensive, lift tickets are out of reach, and the idea of learning to ride is little more than a dream. Elevation Outdoors changes that. They put kids on boards, teach them the basics, and in doing so, give them so much more than a new skill. They give them confidence, community, and the thrill of accomplishment.

The day I joined them, I watched as kids strapped into snowboards for the very first time. Some were excited, others terrified. One boy stared down the bunny hill with wide eyes, clearly doubting whether he could make it down in one piece. Beside him, a volunteer crouched down, adjusted his helmet, and simply said, “You’ve got this. I’ll be right here.” That was all it took. He slid, wobbled, and eventually fell—but he got back up. By the end of the day, he was grinning ear to ear, begging for one more run.

Those small victories added up. Every laugh after a tumble, every high-five at the bottom of the hill, every kid who stood a little taller after making it a few feet further than before. For some, it was the first time they’d felt that sense of achievement. For others, it was the realization that failure isn’t the end of the story—it’s part of the process. Snowboarding became a metaphor for life: you’re going to fall, but what matters is that you get back up, try again, and keep going.

I stood there thinking about how these experiences will ripple outward. A child who discovers confidence on the slopes carries it into school, friendships, and family life. A teenager who learns resilience on the mountain learns resilience in every other challenge that comes their way. These are the lessons that stick—the ones you can’t teach in a classroom or a lecture, only through lived experience.

What Elevation Outdoors does is pure experiential philanthropy. It’s not about writing a cheque and walking away. It’s about creating opportunities for kids to feel what it means to succeed, to belong, to be capable. For me, being there wasn’t just about observing. It was about joining in, cheering them on, and sharing in the joy of their progress. Because philanthropy is never more powerful than when it’s shared.

Driving home that night, tired but energized, I thought about the courage it takes to try something new, especially when the odds are stacked against you. These kids didn’t just learn to snowboard—they learned to trust themselves. And in a world that often tells them what they can’t do, Elevation Outdoors gave them a space to discover what they can.

That’s the essence of giving. Not just providing resources, but creating experiences that unlock possibility. Watching those kids learn to shred reminded me once again why I believe in this work: because when you experience generosity firsthand, it changes you. And once it changes you, it changes everything.