Christmas Comes to Stowe, Vermont

Mount Mansfield’s summit has gone dark against the deepening cobalt sky, but here in the slopeside village, where thousands of white lights trace evergreens, birches, rooflines, and wreaths, everything glows. I join a three-deep ring of spectators—a few still in ski boots—surrounding a freshly Zambonied ice rink. The first of the Spruce Peak Lights Festival’s two performances is about to begin. Just beyond the oval, Santa holds court inside a candy shop, and families toast marshmallows at an outdoor fireplace. When a spotlight blinks on, a skater in a violet satin shirt glides onto the ice to Luther Vandross’s velvety rendition of “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.” Dads swing toddlers up onto their shoulders. Couples pull each other close. The air is cold and tinged with woodsmoke, the holiday just days away.

I had been to Stowe many times—I’d met my future husband here decades ago, when he was a ski instructor and I was a University of Vermont senior—but somehow I’d never experienced it at Christmastime. I’d expected it to be lovely, even traveling solo and without my skis. Between the festivities at the Alpine-style base village and the charm of the historic downtown seven miles away, how could it not be? What I hadn’t anticipated was that a small troupe of professional ice dancers—and the shared delight of the crowd watching them—would move me to tears.

I carry that tender feeling with me as I head for the warmth of The Lodge at Spruce Peak, my home for the night. Inside, the timber-beamed lobby is filling with families and friends squeezing onto leather couches. A line has formed at the corner bar. I find a place to perch in front of a blazing fire and strike up a conversation with the man next to me.

“We come every year for this,” the father of four tells me. “My kids think Santa lives here.”

I could see why. My own visit had started the night before, when I’d checked into the polished, nearly 200-year-old Green Mountain Inn back in town. A sleigh filled with wrapped gifts was parked outside the entrance; crisscrossed wooden skis hung in the garland-framed front windows. At Plate, an intimate restaurant across the street, I scored a counter seat overlooking the compact open kitchen, which allowed me to sip my wine and see the moment the chef pulled my smoked cheddar soufflé out of the oven.

In the morning, I looked out my room’s second-story paned windows onto the snowy street scene below. A trio shouldering skis made their way toward the shuttle bus stop in front of the town hall. A shopkeeper flipped a door sign to “Open.” The Stowe Community Church steeple, icicle-slender and white, pointed skyward.

On my way to a late breakfast, I wandered the inn’s lower level, pausing to study framed photographs from the landmark property’s long history. One showed the adjacent Mount Mansfield Electric Railroad’s depot, which welcomed tourists from nearby Waterbury between 1897 and 1932 and now houses guest rooms. Another showed radio pioneer Lowell Thomas, a frequent guest and avid skier, broadcasting live as he did throughout the 1930s and ’40s. During that period, Civilian Conservation Corps crews cut the earliest ski trails into Mount Mansfield’s flank, and the first chairlift went up. Before I headed for the exit, I peered through glass doors into The Whip Bar & Grill, not yet open for the day, and was happy to see it looked just as I remembered it from my first date with my future husband.

At Butler’s Pantry, about a block from the inn, I polished off a short stack of blueberry buttermilk pancakes with maple sausage, then set out to explore. My first stop was the white clapboard Vermont Ski and Snowboard Museum. A vintage gondola and chairlifts were suspended from the coffered ceiling of the former meetinghouse. Beneath them was an exhibit tracing the evolution of snowboarding up to 1985, when Jake Burton Carpenter, one of the sport’s most influential pioneers and a longtime Stowe resident, helped it go from fringe to mainstream. The display of Snurfers, the modern board’s mid-’60s precursor, made me smile. I remembered finding one under my tree. For a child who lived on a hill, nothing could have been better.

I continued down Main Street, hoping to finish my Christmas shopping. In Shaw’s General Store, run by fifth-generation family members, I pondered ski socks, fir-scented candles, and flannel shirts. In Bear Pond Books, I considered two cookbooks devoted to winter stews and soups. And in Farm Home Marketplace, an airy home furnishings shop, I picked out two pretty lathe-turned wooden trees, then chatted with owner Lisa Bry while she wrapped them up.

She told me that when she and her husband first visited Stowe from Boston in 2015, they were instantly smitten with a run-down 1864 farmhouse on a knoll overlooking the village. “It reminded me of that scene in It’s a Wonderful Life when [Donna Reed’s character] looks at that old house and imagines what it could be,” she said. Over the course of restoring the house, which they now rent out, and opening the store, they also fell for the community of some 5,000 residents. “We felt like we tripped and fell into wonderland.”

I had that feeling, too, as I drove the winding road to the von Trapp Family Lodge & Resort, the chalet-style hotel established by Maria von Trapp and her family on their hilltop farm in 1950. The upper balconies were decorated with small evergreens, and inside, the lobby was dominated by a giant gingerbread house with Bavarian pretzel roof tiles. The walls held photos and memorabilia from past Trapp Family Singers tours.

I’d arrived in time to hear Kristina von Trapp Frame, Maria’s granddaughter and the resort’s director and executive vice president, share stories with a rapt audience about what it was like growing up von Trapp. She’d just come in from a morning ski.

“We didn’t have a television when I was a kid, but we had thousands of acres to ski and hike on,” she told me. “My grandmother, usually in her dirndl, would walk the mile down to our house to read to me and my brother, Sam. I didn’t know there was anything different about us. Our family operated a hotel, just like everyone else in town.”

She recalled being around 10 years old when she first saw The Sound of Music.

“I thought it seemed like a great movie, but not necessarily about my family,” she laughed. “It was a parallel universe.”

For a long time, she was self-conscious about being a von Trapp and often didn’t give her last name. “I liked not having that be the first thing people knew about me.” Now, she said, she’s “very grateful to be part of a story that brings joy to people.”

I was about to tap into some of that joy with a sleigh ride around the resort grounds. On the way to the meeting point, I passed the Outdoor Center, where cross-country skiers were clicking into bindings and setting off onto miles of wilderness trails. I remembered making the trek up to the rustic Slayton Pasture Cabin years ago (back when my knees had all their cartilage) and being rewarded with hot soup and the exhilarating run back down.

Once the other four passengers and I were settled in the sleigh, the driver signaled the two draft horses and we were off. We slid and jostled past solitary bare birches and into pine forest, then rounded a corner into open pasture. The lodge’s herd of Scottish Highland cattle—mop-topped, cinnamon-colored, and built for cold—looked on impassively. Behind them, the Nebraska Valley backcountry unfolded under lavender-gray clouds, as stirring today as it must have been when Maria and Georg von Trapp purchased the hilltop farm in 1942, four years after fleeing Salzburg.

The Austrian spirit extended to von Trapp Brewing’s Bierhall, the lively post-and-beam taproom about a mile downhill from the lodge, where I stopped for lunch. A bartender in a red Santa hat poured me a crisp Kölsch and delivered a plate of grilled bratwurst with bacon-apple sauerkraut. Around me, people chattered about the trails they’d just skied, and about the flights of European-style lagers they were sampling.

Back outside, the light was getting low and the temperature had dropped. It was time to head up to the big mountain, where skiers would be squeezing in one last run and the Spruce Peak Lights Festival would be under way.

The second ice show is about to begin. I leave the lodge and join the bundled-up crowd heading for the rink. The familiar carols begin again and the ice dancers etch their loops and S-curves onto the gleaming ice. When the performance ends, someone flips a switch to illuminate the village’s tallest blue spruce. The rink reopens to the public, and kids take to the ice, some clearly fired up about trying little hops and twirls, others leaning heavily on green plastic supports. The professionals are back out there, too. One is skating fast laps with a small dog peeking out from his jacket; another has kicked into a tight scratch spin and become a blur at center ice.

“Mele Kalikimaka” blares from the speakers; then, “A Marshmallow World.” Fireworks bloom from the broad ski slope just above the village. The finale sends loud reports around the mountains’ natural amphitheater. People start to converge on the double doors of WhistlePig Pavilion, at the foot of the rink, where hot toddies and gooey raclette await. I plan to join them. Before I do, though, I pause to gaze up at mighty Mansfield, still faintly visible against the ink-dark sky. What must we look like from up there? This radiance, this circle of light? We look, I think, like Christmas.

Guide to Stowe, Vermont: Editors’ Picks

Things to Do in Stowe, Vermont

Bear Pond Books

The place for books about Vermont history and mountain living. A shelf of holiday-themed romances practically begs for a comfy chair, a pot of tea, and a fuzzy throw.

Coco Goose

Specializing in luxury cashmere, premium denim, and elevated resort wear, Coco Goose is just the stop for stylish options for those rare times when worn-out flannel won’t do.

Farm Home Marketplace

This airy shop has European linens and heirloom-quality decorative pieces. A clever “refillery” station invites customers to refill handsome amber bottles with Vermont-made soaps, shampoos, and lotions.

Shaw’s General Store

What started in 1895 as a hardware and grocery store now stocks everything from outdoor apparel and rugged footwear to Vermont souvenirs, including locally produced maple syrup and candy.

Spruce Peak Lights Festival

Started in 2017, this Spruce Peak signature event brings overnight guests and locals together for performances by Ice Dance International, a touring company that includes Olympic and national champions; a tree lighting; and fireworks. Nonprofit partner Spruce Peak Arts also hosts a craft fair and holiday movies in the village theater throughout the day of the festival, set for Dec. 19 this year.

Stowe Mountain Resort

One of the East’s great ski destinations, the resort has two mountains, connected by the free Over Easy gondola, and a total of 116 trails, including the famed quartet of double-black diamonds known as the Front Four.

Vermont Ski and Snowboard Museum

Rotating exhibits celebrate Vermont’s rich winter sports history, while the Hall of Fame honors the athletes, coaches, builders, and pioneers who shaped it.

Dining in Stowe, Vermont

Butler’s Pantry

Don’t be surprised if you find a line at this go-to breakfast stop, where skiers and riders fuel up on eggs Benedict on homemade biscuits and fluffy buttermilk pancakes.

Doc Ponds

A lively ski-town tavern on Mountain Road known for its extensive vinyl record collection, plus terrific burgers and baked mac and cheese.

Plate

Chef Aaron Martin trained at California’s famed Chez Panisse before bringing its ingredient-driven style to Vermont in this intimate Main Street eatery. Go with a friend to share a two-person booth and the signature banana pudding served in a large mason jar.

Stowe Bee Bakery & Café

This cute Mountain Road café makes terrific lattes, plus an impressive array of from-scratch goodies—from popovers to paninis to whoopie pies.

von Trapp Brewing’s Bierhall

Bratwurst, spaetzle, and strudel are, naturally, on the menu, but the real stars in this cathedral-ceilinged taproom are the Austrian-style lagers brewed next door. Tours of the brewery are offered Mondays, Thursdays, and Saturdays.

WhistlePig Pavilion

Head to this Spruce Peak Village favorite for cocktails made with Vermont’s own WhistlePig rye whiskey, traditional raclette cheese melted by an open fire, and warm Alpine-lodge vibes.

Lodging in Stowe, Vermont

The Farm Home

Thoughtfully renovated in serene neutrals by Lisa and Tyson Bry, owners of Farm Home Marketplace, this four-bedroom 1864 farmhouse pairs original beams and a woodstove with a modern chef’s kitchen and inspiring views of Stowe village and beyond.

Green Mountain Inn

This landmark 1833 hotel in the heart of town has expanded over the years to include 101 guest rooms, suites, and townhouses across eight buildings. Dine at The Whip Bar & Grill, a stalwart that received Stowe’s first liquor license (1950), and keep an eye out for midcentury landscape paintings by Stowe artist Walton Blodgett throughout the inn.

The Lodge at Spruce Peak

This luxury inn with over 300 guest rooms and suites puts you steps from boutiques, restaurants, and the village center ice rink. There’s a spa with 18 private treatment rooms and two dining options, including Tipsy Trout, which has a standout raw bar and a creative cocktail list.

von Trapp Family Lodge & Resort

Choose from rooms in the Austrian-style main lodge or in hillside villas and guest houses—many with mountain views and fireplaces. The Sound of Music fans can get the inside story during history tours; skiers and snowshoers can spend the day on nearly 40 miles of groomed trails and 2,600 acres of backcountry.

This feature was originally published as “All Aglow in Stowe” in the November/December 2026 issue of Yankee.

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