"Wasn't this a b-b-brilliant idea?" Even through chattering teeth, Dad's pride was unmistakable. "A s-s-ski weekend on Mount Superior."

"More like Mount Siberia," Calvin grumbled to Hobbes.

The whole family stood shivering on the slopes.

"Why do we keep letting Dad plan our vacations anyway? Remember our infamous trip to the Museum of Modern Plumbing?"

"I still say that toilet seat with the fur coat was simply beautiful," Hobbes said, shivering.

"Just look at this place," Calvin continued. "Nothing but snow and ice. I'd rather spend the day in a walk-freezer—at least there'd be food! I'd go so far as to say that camping would be better than this!"

Calvin's three-course breakfast was beginning to wear of, and he was getting hungrier and crankier by the nanosecond.

"Seriously," Hobbes said. "You'd think your dad would have more taste than the mountains. He should've let us take the sled."

"Yeah, but the airport wouldn't let it through the metal detector. We could've used it a weapon, apparently."

"Yeah, those metal runners apparently could put an eye out."

"However, I have something in my pocket that could help us out."

Before Hobbes could ask him what he was talking about, he was sprayed by snow powder.

"Attention, beginning skiers!" A pretty lady in a dazzling ski suit addressed the group of assembled skiers. "My name's Trisha and I'll be your instructor today!"

"Wow!" Hobbes took one look at Trisha and his chapped lips cracked into an instant smile. "I'm s-s-starting to feel all t-t-tingly inside!"

"That's your nose hairs freezing," Calvin muttered. "Snap out of it, or else you're going to be demoted from GROSS President to GROSS Imbecile."

Trisha smiled reassuringly. "Since you're all beginners, today's lesson will be on the safest, easiest slope. That way, no one will get hurt."

"I'm already hurt!" Calvin wailed. "I can't feel my toes. Even my frostbite is getting frostbite!"

"Calvin, we're trying to learn," Mom hissed.

"Really? That's an even better reason to complain!"

Trisha simply ignored Calvin and continued. She demonstrated a simple glide across the level snow. "Now, do I have a volunteer who'd like to try what I just did?"

"I w-w-will!" Dad stepped forward confidently. "It'll be a p-p-piece of cake!"

Calvin grimaced. "Oh, sure, you would have to mention cake."

Dad began to ski. "Yi-yi-YIKES!" His legs flew out from under him and his arms flailed wildly. He landed with a loud THUD!—right at Trisha's feet.

"Oh, my!" Trisha gasped, helping the highly embarrassed Dad to his feet. "No one's ever wiped out on the bunny slope before!"

A distinct giggle could be heard through the group.

Mom put her head in her hands, embarrassed.

Calvin, however, couldn't take it. "Enough of this winter blunderland!" he said, taking Hobbes' arm. "We're outta here!"

"But Calvin, we've never been through these woods before! We're gonna get lost. I'm through with my near-death experiences."

"Oh, come on. Our last journey through the woods wasn't that bad."

"Calvin, we got attacked by some bald guy bent on taking over the world with your imagination."

"Well, he's gone, so we shouldn't have to worry."

Defeated, Hobbes pulled down his goggles, grabbed onto his poles and pushed himself after Calvin on their skis.

They soon were rocketing down the hills at top speed. They ran into only five trees and tripped over two rocks, which was pretty good in their case.

Unfortunately, to this kiddie from the city, one trail looked the same as the other, and in a few minutes, Calvin and Hobbes were totally lost.

"Oh, great," Calvin groaned. He scanned the surroundings. "Snow and trees, snow and trees…"

"Oh, perfect," Hobbes said. "We're trapped in a National Geographic special, and it's all your fault!"

"My fault? You're the one who went with me!"

"This was your idea!"

"Well, you didn't try to stop me!"

"I did! You didn't listen, as usual. No wonder you get bad grades!"

"Hey, you don't even get grades!"

"You call that an insult? That's pathetic."

"Well, can you blame me? My brain has practically stalled from the cold!"

"No surprise there," Hobbes snorted. "It's always been stalled."

They were conveniently interrupted by a country style voice.

"Need some help, boys?"

Startled, Calvin and Hobbes whirled around to find a strange-looking rabbit on the trail behind him. The rabbit was pure white, with the hugest, hairiest feet Calvin had ever seen!

"You can talk?" Hobbes asked, startled.

"So can you," the rabbit replied.

"Good point."

Calvin decided to introduce themselves. "Hi, I'm Calvin, and this is my friend Hobbes…and you must be Bigfoot."

"For your information," the rabbit snorted, "I'm a snowshoe bunny! And these feet are the perfect size for getting around."

"Around what—Clown College?" Calvin couldn't help staring at those enormous feet. "No offense, mister, but you're one funny bunny if I ever saw one."

The rabbit snorted again. "Is that so? Well, I thought you two looked lost, and I was going to tell you the way to the lodge, but since you've insulted me…"

"LODGE?" blurted Calvin and Hobbes.

"Wait, I take it back!" Calvin said. "Your feet aren't big at all! I'm not in my right mind."

"Right, his brain froze over! He was dropped on his head repeatedly," Hobbes added. "We're raving from cold and starvation and lack of comic books."

The bunny just glared.

Calvin continued. "You say there's a lodge somewhere on this mountain?"

"Yup," said the bunny, "but they didn't teach direction-giving at Clown College. You're on your own, boys."

"No, please. I'm really, really sorry! You're got to get me out of here! We're desperate!" He fell to his knees. "Look, now I'm begging!"

"Well, all right," said the bunny. He had a hint of mischief in his eyes that Hobbes seemed to recognized all too well from Calvin's eyes. "See that ridge with the huge mounds of snow on it? Well, there's a trail that runs below it that leads directly to the lodge."

"Oh, thank you, thank you!" Calvin and Hobbes barely got the words out before they raced off.

"You're welcome," said the rabbit, who snickered to himself as he watched Calvin and Hobbes ski away. "Should I have warned them that they were heading into an avalanche zone? Nah! Ha, ha, ha!"

As Calvin and Hobbes reached the edge of the cliff, Hobbes' keen sense of smell kicked in.

"It can't be far now—I smell cocoa!" Sweet relief filled his face. "And I'm loco for cocoa!"

"You sound like a cereal ad for some reason," Calvin said. "Let's ski-daddle!"

Triggered by the delectable scent, Calvin's stomach let out a supersonic rumble. At that moment, there was another thunderous rumble, even louder than the first.

"Was that you?" Calvin asked hopefully.

"No," Hobbes replied.

"Well, there's no one else up here but us. And if it wasn't either of us…OH, NO!"

Calvin's growling stomach had launched a king-sized AVALANCHE—and it was heading straight for our heroes!

"I've heard of heavy snowfall, but this is ridiculous," Hobbes commented nervously.

"Forget the skies!" Calvin yelled. "We have to execute Plan B!"

"Which is?"

Calvin pulled out a small, glowing cube.

"What's that?"

"It's the hypercube. It's my latest invention! It can store an unlimited amount of objects, and it has just what we need!"

He pulled out the toboggan!

"Has no metal, so it wasn't detected! Let's ride!"

Calvin and Hobbes hopped onto the toboggan and rode for their lives. With a mountain of snow on Hobbes' tail and visions of cocoa and cookies in Calvin's mind, they swooshed like Olympic champions. What form! What grace! What fear! The frantic, fleeing pair zoomed past every obstacle on their way down the mountain.

Calvin leaned and directed them past several flags. They had to jump up to avoid smashing through a fence. Hobbes had to growl to get rid of animals wishing to hitch a ride with them.

"Man, there's a lot of violence in this story!" Calvin cried.

"We need to have a word with the author about these events," Hobbes groaned.

"Outta our way!" Calvin howled, as they parted a pack of wolves.

"Shut up and move!" Hobbes yelled, slaloming through a herd of yakety yaks.

"Vamoose, moose!" Calvin cried, narrowly avoiding an earful of antlers.

On and on! Faster and faster!

A bird!

A bear!

A ski lift chair!

A squirrel!

A skunk!

A tattooed punk!

All were furiously swept up into the ever-growing snowball at their backs.

Suddenly, Calvin spotted the lodge. It was straight ahead—and hundreds of feet across a giant gorge! But there was no turning back now. They didn't really have a choice anyway.

"HANG ON, HOBBES!" Calvin shouted.

"NO PROBLEM!"

Shouting "WE-WILL-NOT-BE-DENIED!" Calvin and Hobbes flew over the gaping abyss. With the rich chocolate aroma pulling them along by their noses, they showed perfect tobogganing form and made the most graceful landing on the deck of the A-frame lodge. And so was born the legend of the Awesome Ski-Jumping Boy and Tiger of Mount Superior!

Hours later, a heavily bandaged Dad and curious Mom came in to find Calvin sipping cocoa with lots of marshmallows, eating cookies, reading comics and warming his toes at the fireplace. His stuffed tiger sat silently next to him in the same position with a comic book draped over his chest with his own mug of cocoa.

"Oh, there you are, Calvin," Dad said, easing his battered body into a chair. "Boy, that bunny slope was sure a killer."

"Not to mention embarrassing," Mom said, getting her own cocoa.

"Yeah," replied the newly crowned king of the mountain. "Some bunnies are nothing but trouble."

He winked at the tiger reading comics next to him, while his parents looked confused.