SLVSH || Konnor Ralph vs. Hans Wiener at Woodward Copper

Profile and significance

Hans Wiener is an American freeski athlete based in Park City whose career is built around the modern overlap zone between freeride competition and backcountry freestyle. He appears in the official Freeride World Tour Qualifier rider database as a Ski Men competitor, and his strongest public results sit inside that big-mountain pipeline rather than traditional FIS park-and-pipe rankings. What makes Wiener relevant to a freeski audience is the way he moves through formats: judged freeride lines on natural faces, freeride contests that reward creativity, and film-style projects that blend park laps with raw terrain.

His story also stands out because it is anchored in a long runway. As a young teenager, local reporting described him winning the Sports Illustrated for Kids Next X Snow Search finals at Killington Resort, an all-around youth contest that combined multiple disciplines. That early “do everything” foundation still shows up in his adult skiing: he doesn’t feel like a pure specialist. Instead, he fits the growing category of skiers who bring slopestyle and big air instincts into big-mountain settings, turning freeride lines into something closer to backcountry freestyle.

Competitive arc and key venues

Wiener’s competitive arc has two clear chapters: early freestyle roots and later freeride focus. The youth milestone at Killington Resort matters because it wasn’t a single-event fluke; the reporting around that win emphasized that the format rewarded well-rounded skiing across terrain types. In other words, he came up in an environment where versatility was the point, not a bonus. For a progressing skier reading his story today, it explains why his later output can feel comfortable in both park features and steep, technical freeride terrain.

In the freeride world, his most verifiable recent competitive highlight is a top-four finish at the 2024 Grand Targhee IFSA Qualifier, which is listed on the Freeride World Tour qualifier event results. The venue, Grand Targhee Resort, is the kind of stage that forces decisions: cliff bands, variable snow, and the need to link a clean line that looks intentional instead of improvised. Placing fourth there signals a skier who can score not only on courage, but on control and line choice—two traits that translate directly into film-worthy skiing.

Wiener’s contest résumé also includes participation in formats that sit outside the classic “one skier, one run” template. At Solitude Mountain Resort, he was part of the winning roster at Red Bull Cascade 2025, a team-based event built around top-to-bottom creativity and energy rather than a single standardized course. That win is useful context because it highlights what his skiing is built for: linking features, reading terrain quickly, and delivering a complete descent that feels like a real freeski line rather than a training-lane run.

Alongside competition, Wiener’s visibility is boosted by film-forward projects. In 2026, coverage of his project “Beggar’s End” framed it as a thank-you to the people and community that keep a skier moving forward, and it was described as a mix of park laps and backcountry terrain across Park City, Wyoming, and Mammoth Mountain. That kind of project matters because it gives fans a way to understand what he is beyond results: a skier who values the culture of the sport and can translate that into watchable, coherent skiing on very different kinds of snow.

How they ski: what to watch for

Hans Wiener’s skiing reads like a park-trained athlete who chose to take those instincts into freeride terrain. In freeride qualifiers, the scoring isn’t just about being steep; it’s about how the run is built. Watch how he links sections: the way he exits a technical zone, carries speed to the next feature, and keeps his body position quiet enough that the skiing looks composed even when the line is complex. That is the freeski version of “execution,” and it’s often what separates a high-score run from a scary run.

He also fits the backcountry freestyle lane more than the old-school freeride lane. Instead of treating cliffs as pure survival drops, the goal looks closer to big air logic: pop, shape, and stomp, then keep moving. In coverage from Grand Targhee, he has been featured putting a corked rotation into a freeride line, which is a good shorthand for what he brings to the table. It’s not urban/street skiing in the literal sense, but the influence is there in the precision: the same discipline that makes slopestyle runs work—timing, takeoff accuracy, and controlled landings—becomes the framework for how he attacks natural features.

Red Bull’s own athlete roster for Cascade lists his favorite trick as a switch 9 dub Japan. Whether you ever see that exact trick in a given season, it points to something important about his freeski identity: comfort skiing switch and a willingness to mix style with rotation. For viewers, that means the “tell” is often in the approach. If the skier looks confident in the setup and committed early, the trick is usually a product of rhythm rather than last-second muscle.

Resilience, filming, and influence

Wiener’s influence is less about one famous medal and more about the modern freeski blueprint: compete, film, and keep the sport fun enough to stay in it. Freeride qualifiers are a grind—travel, snowpack variability, and the reality that one mistake can erase an otherwise strong season. A top-four at a venue like Grand Targhee Resort suggests not only talent, but the ability to manage that variability and still deliver a complete run when it counts.

His filming projects underline another kind of resilience: keeping creative output alive even when you’re not on a podium circuit. “Beggar’s End” was presented as a community-centered project, which is a very freeski way of framing success. It’s not just “look at this trick,” it’s “look at the people and places that make the skiing possible.” That perspective resonates with fans because freeski is a culture sport as much as a competition sport, and athletes who can communicate that tend to have staying power.

Winning a collaborative team event at Solitude Mountain Resort also hints at why he fits modern freeski so well. The sport is moving toward formats that reward creativity, line choice, and energy, not only technical difficulty on a fixed feature list. Wiener’s public results and projects suggest he thrives when skiing is evaluated as a full descent—something that looks like the runs skiers actually dream about, not just what fits neatly into a contest template.

Geography that built the toolkit

Park City is a natural home base for a skier who blends park fluency with big-mountain instincts. The broader region is known for producing skiers who can move between resort features and steep, technical terrain in the same season, and Wiener’s results and projects reflect that kind of mixed toolkit. Being associated with Park City also places him close to a web of training and event venues that have shaped the modern U.S. freeski scene.

Two other locations help define his public skiing map. Grand Targhee Resort represents the freeride side: natural terrain where line choice and decision-making are as important as the tricks themselves. Mammoth Mountain represents the park-to-backcountry blend described in his film work, a place where big resort features and freeride terrain can coexist in one trip. And Solitude Mountain Resort represents the newer freeski competition direction—creative, top-to-bottom, and hard to reduce to a single trick list.

Even his youth breakthrough at Killington Resort matters geographically because it shows how early he was exposed to broad-format skiing. That kind of early travel and multi-discipline competition tends to build adaptability, and adaptability is exactly what freeride qualifiers demand when conditions and venues change from stop to stop.

Equipment and partners: practical takeaways

Wiener is described in 2026 coverage as an athlete working with Armada Skis, and that pairing makes practical sense for his lane: a skier who wants a platform that can handle park laps, switch skiing, and backcountry freestyle hits in the same season. His story also shows how early support can begin. Reporting on his 2006 youth win noted sponsorship from Dynastar and Hestra while he was still a teenager, which is a reminder that the pathway often starts with local belief before it becomes national visibility.

For progressing skiers, the actionable takeaway is not to chase a logo, but to understand the demands of his skiing. Freeride qualifiers and backcountry freestyle reward stability at speed, a predictable landing platform, and enough maneuverability to stay composed in technical terrain. If you want to ski the way he’s scoring and filming, you need a setup you trust when you’re moving fast through variable snow, not only a setup that feels great on one perfect groomer lap.

Gloves and small equipment choices matter more than many people admit in big-mountain freeski. When you’re filming or competing in cold, high-consequence terrain, dexterity and warmth are performance factors, not comfort extras. The broader lesson from his early and later partnerships is simple: build a kit that removes friction—gear that keeps you confident enough to commit, because commitment is what turns a line into a run worth watching.

Why fans and progressing skiers care

Hans Wiener is worth following because he represents a modern freeski identity that’s increasingly important: the skier who can compete in freeride qualifiers, thrive in creative team events, and still deliver film projects that feel authentic. A fourth-place finish at the 2024 Grand Targhee qualifier and a win at Red Bull Cascade 2025 show that his skiing holds up in judged environments, while “Beggar’s End” shows he can translate that skiing into a story that isn’t just about results.

For fans, he’s a reminder that freeski greatness isn’t only Olympic finals and X Games podiums, even though those stages matter and define many careers. Freeski is also the art of building a complete descent—mixing slopestyle instincts, big air commitment, and freeride decision-making into one line. For progressing skiers, his blueprint is clear: master switch comfort, keep your skiing clean between features, and treat terrain like a canvas. When that approach works, the skiing looks calm, and calm is exactly what makes high-level freeski so compelling to watch.

Profile and significance

Konnor Ralph is an American freeski athlete who has rapidly moved from “new name on the start list” to a genuine finals-and-podium regular in men’s slopestyle and big air. Raised in Helena, Montana, he learned to ski at Great Divide Ski Area, then shifted into park skiing young and built the kind of repetition-based foundation that modern contest freeski demands. His official competition profile with FIS lists him as an active U.S. athlete (born January 27, 2003), and his bio with U.S. Ski & Snowboard traces a clear arc: local-hill progression, then a fast climb into World Cup podiums and Olympic finals.

Ralph’s significance for fans is that his results are already “real” at the sport’s most competitive level. He owns three FIS World Cup podiums across slopestyle and big air, then backed that up at the 2026 Olympic Winter Games by making finals in both events at Snowpark Livigno, finishing ninth in men’s slopestyle and fifth in men’s big air. That combination—podiums plus Olympic finals—puts him firmly in the upper tier of the next U.S. generation. He is not defined by one viral clip; he’s defined by repeatable scoring runs and the willingness to put high-risk tricks on the line when the window is small and the pressure is high.

Competitive arc and key venues

Ralph’s breakthrough into the top tier is easy to map through key venues and a short list of decisive performances. On March 16, 2024, he earned his first career World Cup podium with third place in men’s slopestyle at Tignes, a stop that often rewards athletes who can keep an entire run clean—rails included—when the field is deep and the course is fast. That podium mattered because it wasn’t a “friendly” event; it was a stacked World Cup final where small execution details separate the top 10. From there, his momentum carried into big air, where he captured his first World Cup big air podium on February 6, 2025 in Aspen Snowmass with a third-place finish.

The next major marker came on December 13, 2025, when he finished second in men’s big air at a World Cup in Steamboat Springs, scoring 179.50 and landing on a U.S. 1–2 with teammate Troy Podmilsak at Steamboat Resort. Those podiums show breadth: slopestyle scoring, big air pressure handling, and the ability to travel and deliver across very different builds. Underneath the World Cup story is a development layer that matters for context: his U.S. Ski & Snowboard profile highlights strong NorAm results, including a 2022 overall NorAm Cup win across slopestyle and big air. That kind of “farm system” success often predicts which athletes will eventually convert starts into podiums, because it proves they can compete well before the biggest spotlight arrives.

How they ski: what to watch for

Ralph’s skiing reads like modern contest freeski at full speed: high-difficulty rotation, but with an emphasis on keeping the run looking purposeful rather than chaotic. In big air, he has publicly been associated with a left triple cork 1800 mute—an example of a trick that only works if the approach is committed and the takeoff edge is precise. The useful viewer takeaway is that his best moments start before the jump: he looks calm on the in-run, sets a clean line, then lets the trick happen without visible last-second “muscling.” When that timing is right, landings become quieter, and quiet landings are what preserve speed and confidence for the next attempt.

In slopestyle, what stands out is run-building discipline. Olympic slopestyle isn’t won by one feature; it’s won by how well the skier connects rails to jumps without losing rhythm. At the 2026 Games at Snowpark Livigno, Ralph’s best score in the men’s slopestyle final landed him ninth overall—proof that he can deliver a complete run under Olympic pressure. Watch the transitions if you want to understand why he scores: how quickly he re-centers after a landing, how smoothly he exits a rail, and whether his upper body stays quiet through speed. Those details are the difference between “huge trick, messy run” and “finals run that actually survives judging.”

Resilience, filming, and influence

Ralph’s career already includes the kind of resilience moments that reveal what a skier is made of. At the February 2025 World Cup big air in Aspen Snowmass, he fell on his first run and still climbed back into third with stronger later attempts—an extremely common pattern in big air, where the ability to reset matters as much as the trick itself. His Steamboat result later that year adds another layer: big air finals often reward the athlete who can deliver two strong jumps that are distinct, high-difficulty, and clean. Finishing second at Steamboat Resort shows he can manage that puzzle in a field that keeps escalating until the last skier drops.

Influence, at this stage, is mostly “performance influence”: younger park skiers watch who is landing what in real contests, not just in perfect edits. Ralph’s rise has happened in the most visible, measurable way—World Cup podiums and Olympic finals—so he naturally becomes a reference point for what today’s scoring standard looks like. Even if a fan never memorizes trick names, Ralph’s arc reinforces the core freeski lesson: the athletes who last are the ones who can repeat a high level across seasons, across venues, and across formats. That repeatability is what turns a talented skier into a consistent contender.

Geography that built the toolkit

Montana is a meaningful part of Ralph’s story because it’s not the most obvious pipeline for elite slopestyle and big air. He learned on the smaller-mountain, community-driven terrain of Great Divide Ski Area, which often builds tough fundamentals: you learn to make the most of what’s in front of you, and you learn to repeat features until they’re dialed. That background also makes his later results feel earned rather than prepackaged. His FIS athlete listing connects him to Wy’East Mountain Academy, a detail that fits the common U.S. progression path: as the level rises, athletes seek training environments that maximize time on snow and offer daily access to park-building and coaching structure.

As his career moved into the World Cup and Olympic lanes, his venue map expanded into freeski’s most decisive locations. Tignes became the stage for his first World Cup podium in slopestyle, while Aspen Snowmass became the site of his first World Cup podium in big air. Steamboat Resort then provided a high-pressure big air final where he scored second in a deep field. Finally, Snowpark Livigno tied it all together at the Olympics, where he made finals in both slopestyle and big air. That geography matters because it proves adaptability: different speeds, different snow, different builds—same ability to score.

Equipment and partners: practical takeaways

Ralph’s verified partner list is refreshingly clear. U.S. Ski & Snowboard lists LINE Skis as his equipment sponsor and Jiberish as a sponsor. While public sources do not consistently confirm a precise ski model or binding setup, his disciplines make the functional requirements obvious: a symmetrical, switch-friendly freeski platform that stays predictable on takeoff, stays stable on landing, and holds up to rail impacts and repeated jump sessions. The deeper lesson is that consistency in equipment supports consistency in performance—especially in big air, where any uncertainty in pop or landing feel turns into hesitation.

For progressing skiers, the practical takeaway is to copy the logic, not the logo. Big air and slopestyle are repetition sports. You want boots that fit so well you stop thinking about them, and you want a ski-and-binding setup you can trust when you’re landing hard at speed. The trick progression that shows up in Ralph’s results—triple-cork level difficulty in big air, plus full slopestyle finals runs—depends on doing thousands of “boring” reps with the same stance and the same feel. If you want to evaluate your own setup the way an athlete would, ask a simple question: does this gear help me repeat the same takeoff and the same landing over and over? If the answer is yes, you’re building the foundation that athletes like Ralph use to turn potential into podiums.

Why fans and progressing skiers care

Konnor Ralph is worth following because his career is already delivering the benchmarks that predict long-term stardom in freeski. Three World Cup podiums in two disciplines, plus Olympic finals in both slopestyle and big air, is not a “maybe.” It’s a measurable sign that he can perform when the field is strongest and the stakes are highest. His ninth-place finish in Olympic men’s slopestyle and fifth-place finish in Olympic men’s big air at Snowpark Livigno make him a legitimate Olympic-era name, even without a medal yet. That “finals presence” matters because it’s the platform from which medals are usually built: the athlete is already in the room, learning how the moment feels.

Progressing skiers should care because his skiing highlights the parts of freeski that actually translate into improvement. Tricks matter, but the hidden skills matter more: speed control, switch comfort, clean landings, and the ability to reset after a miss. Ralph’s rise from Great Divide Ski Area to World Cup podiums at Tignes, Aspen Snowmass, and Steamboat Resort shows what the pathway looks like when it’s built the right way—one consistent season at a time. For fans, he’s exciting because the ceiling is obvious. For skiers who want to progress, he’s useful because the blueprint is clear: master the basics, repeat them under pressure, then let the difficulty climb without losing style.