Words Justin Miller. Illustrations AJ Ogden

Life is full of sin. However in snowboarding, there are but 6 sins. On ancient tablature passed down by dark mountain gods, it’s said that an inverted pentagram can be found carved on the backside, bearing the six eternal sins of snowboarding. But for the perverse who swim the murky waters of ultimate wickedness and fall prey to one of the six deadly sins, there is hell to pay as each sin packs some serious heat in the form of punishment.

Dusting off the ancient tablets for the first time in like, a really fucking long time, we’ll unveil the sins that sent many a hell-bound-mountain-douche to their final, ungodly destination. But beware the ruthlessness, as even a single stride into these six forbidden territories will call upon the gods to haul off your pathetic ass for the rest of days.

The Wastoid

No force is more powerful than that of self-delusion. This unsavory type bears the constant stench of a bottom shelf elixir or magical smoking plant under the impression that they’ve been gifted the key to next-level shredding. Time after time, it’s but a mirage of horseshit.


The wicked are bound to an eternal state of being too fucked up. Endless days are spent alone, throwing up on yourself in the mountain’s parking lot instead of on the on the slopes with your dudes.  

The Gear Evangelist

Oozing blind trust in “cutting edge gear,” the Gear Evangelist is victim to the brainwashing of carefully crafted snowboarding marketing buzzwords. Each no better than snake oil, these empty claims lodge themselves in the victim’s brain like a leech, taking over and corrupting judgement of even some really basic shit. Complete nonsense often pours out like hot vomit when asked about their setup, only to realize nothing has really been said at all—only buzzwords. Just what the leech wants.


With bare feet nailed into a shitty Walmart setup, the Gear Evangelist is said to be cast into hell’s darkest cave where the only source of light will be burning each and every piece of “innovative technology” released by Burton over the years.

Park Parasite

Like a cockroach living off of its surroundings, the shifty Park Parasite can be found alongside their crew at all hours, contributing nothing yet selfishly waiting to reap the benefits of their status. Looking to bask in someone else’s limelight, this vermin of a human will try to weasel their way into coolness by association, but are ultimately an empty shell with nothing to show. Sound like a huge dick to you? Well, they are.


Payback for a lame attempt at taking credit for what’s not rightfully theirs, the Park Parasite is to be trapped in a snowboard-dad’s body, eternally attending (and wiping out at) an intro-level Snowboard School class. Ultimate un-coolness will forever be their daily misery.

The Nickel and Dimer

Consistently unsatisfied with the endless fruits of a relaxed day on the mountain, the Nickel and Dimer forever attempts to squeeze each cent’s worth out of every goddamn moment. When even chill, lodge time is considered money wasted, the crew begins to bear the collective weight of this festering wound of a person who has turned everyone’s day to complete shit.


In plain view of empty lift lines, this corrupted soul is destined to be eternally bound by shackle to the lodge’s customer service area while a lobotomized attendant repeatedly charges your card for numerous unusable lift tickets.

The Cross Over

You can’t have it all. But, the Cross Over attempts to defy the dark mountain law of “us and them” out of pure greed. Masqueraded as a convenience on catwalks, each Cross Over has made a deal with the devil to possess both a snowboard and skis at every moment. Some call it a “splitboard”, others call it pure evil. But when you’re playing for both teams, it’s treason however you cut it and is deserving of double punishment.


Strapped to a table infested with rabid snowboarder-couch-bugs, a swinging pendulum of rusty splitboards ushers you into ultimate misery for your sins. You’ve sinned by splitting, and now you must be split.

The Zombie Pro

When the mighty fall from grace, the bottom is no place to pretend you’re still on top. The Zombie Pro is hell bent on resurrecting a dead snowboarding career by mercilessly dragging everyone into the decrepit pits of yesteryear to re-live failed dreams of making it big. One of the most infectious sins out there, the Zombie Pro spreads the myth of the thriving career onto bystanders by forcing them to watch re-released video parts that were just ok to begin with. At each viewing, another minion is added to this dark army.


In this deep, deep circle of hell, the Zombie Pro has finally made it big as a mega-douche snowblader. As for his minions, their eyelids are held open with fish hooks, Clockwork-Orange-style, forever watching insufferably cringy snowblade footage.

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