St. Anton Chronicles: Part Two
The decision is made: we’re leaving St. Anton. It’s Monday night and we’ll pack up the show and hit to road to Munich at 4 a.m. on Wednesday morning. But right now, we’re in Austria, and dammit were gonna have some fun while we are still here.
The crew has posted up in the Funky Chicken. Red Bull and vodka is flowing, C-grade American hits are bumping, and Euros are getting sloppy on the dance floor: most of them still in ski boots. Tanner and Sammy Carlson are hobbling around on crutches, Simon Dumont is keeping his cool, and Jossi Wells and Sean Pettit are straight dancing on the tables with 17-year-old Swedish girls. It’s a miracle the night ends without incident.
The next day, Sean Pettit is the only one healthy enough to hit the hill. We head to Stuben, the “smallest” resort in the Arlberg area, to take a few runs and shoot some B-roll footage for the webisodes. The terrain is out of control, like nothing in North America. It goes from steeps to rolling with wind lips, spines, gaps and drop off everywhere. It’s literally like a natural terrain park. Right now, the snow is super variable. You might have one great turn in some sugary week old pow, only to transition into some windbuff with a thin ice layer on top. If it was a powder days it would’ve been like no place on earth, but the snow conditions make high speed turns risky and jumping out of the question.
Nonetheless, getting up high in the Arlberg is amazing. The sun is shining and the groomers are soft, but not too soft. People are out having a great time and soaking up the rays on the decks. If we were on vacation it actually wouldn’t have been bad, but we were here to make a movie and that was obviously impossible. We make our way down to the road, actually finding some pockets of still creamy powder in the deep, dark drainages near the bottom. We nearly get stuck above some gnarly rocks clustered with Alders, but Sean leads the way and we pick our way back out into the sunlight.
Down in Stuben, we kick off the boards and hightail it to the Sportcafé for some rösti. Tanner couldn’t stop talking about the rösti, so it was an obvious stop. It’s basically some kind of hash brown scramble deal. It was damn good, and for about $20 (confounded weak dollar) it should be. We spent a good two hours basking in the sun, looking at lines, and drinking beer and cappuccinos. Very Euro of us, don’t you think?
The crew has posted up in the Funky Chicken. Red Bull and vodka is flowing, C-grade American hits are bumping, and Euros are getting sloppy on the dance floor: most of them still in ski boots. Tanner and Sammy Carlson are hobbling around on crutches, Simon Dumont is keeping his cool, and Jossi Wells and Sean Pettit are straight dancing on the tables with 17-year-old Swedish girls. It’s a miracle the night ends without incident. The next day, Sean Pettit is the only one healthy enough to hit the hill. We head to Stuben, the “smallest” resort in the Arlberg area, to take a few runs and shoot some B-roll footage for the webisodes. The terrain is out of control, like nothing in North America. It goes from steeps to rolling with wind lips, spines, gaps and drop off everywhere. It’s literally like a natural terrain park. Right now, the snow is super variable. You might have one great turn in some sugary week old pow, only to transition into some windbuff with a thin ice layer on top. If it was a powder days it would’ve been like no place on earth, but the snow conditions make high speed turns risky and jumping out of the question.
Nonetheless, getting up high in the Arlberg is amazing. The sun is shining and the groomers are soft, but not too soft. People are out having a great time and soaking up the rays on the decks. If we were on vacation it actually wouldn’t have been bad, but we were here to make a movie and that was obviously impossible. We make our way down to the road, actually finding some pockets of still creamy powder in the deep, dark drainages near the bottom. We nearly get stuck above some gnarly rocks clustered with Alders, but Sean leads the way and we pick our way back out into the sunlight. Down in Stuben, we kick off the boards and hightail it to the Sportcafé for some rösti. Tanner couldn’t stop talking about the rösti, so it was an obvious stop. It’s basically some kind of hash brown scramble deal. It was damn good, and for about $20 (confounded weak dollar) it should be. We spent a good two hours basking in the sun, looking at lines, and drinking beer and cappuccinos. Very Euro of us, don’t you think?
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