Meet The American King of Austria’s St. Anton Arlberg
Retracing skiing’s roots with Hannes Schneider, the grandson of modern skiing.
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Hannes Schneider makes off-piste turns in Austria
Hannes Schneider makes off-piste turns in Austria.Photo credit: Christopher Harrison
I’m sweating, standing in a thicket of larch trees and peering down through barren branches at the half-timbered chalets and hotels of St. Anton, one of eight historic farming villages forming Austria’s Arlberg. Separating me from lunch are 1,500 feet of steep, wooded vertical blanketed by a season’s worth of snow—snow that’s rapidly moistening from killer corn into mashed potatoes under the spring sun. And the only thing stopping me from poaching it is an orange out-of-bounds rope (a rarity in this no-holds-barred mega resort) and a yellow sign that reads “Es ist auch dein wald” – it’s your forest too. In other words, don’t duck the rope, asshole, this forest belongs to everyone, not just you and your GoPro.
Sounds good to me. It’s my last run of an epic three-day trip. Less than an hour ago, I was high up in St. Anton’s side-country, riding wet pow down a headwall that curled like a white wave. Now I’m spent. I eye the sign warding off would-be trespassers and prepare to push off down a gentle hiking trail that serves as an easy run-out back to the resort. But just before I do, a ski pole darts into my field of vision, gingerly tucks itself under the orange rope, and gently lifts it.
“If it’s my woods,” says the pole’s owner in his deep New Hampshire baritone, “then we’re skiing it, dude.”
