Japan’s Backcountry Reality Check

The phrase ‘if you’re not falling you’re not trying’ has never rung so true.

If you take anything away from this, let it be that you need to ski in Japan at one point in your life and also TRAIN BEFOREHAND. I didn’t. Learning to ski as a toddler – my parents clearly unwilling to wait around – I consider myself a decently competent skier, however the Japanese back country terrain knocked me down a few pegs. The phrase “if you’re not falling you’re not trying” has never rung so true. Don’t get me wrong though: it’s totally worth it. 

Volcano skiing is a thing

My family and I headed there for two weeks this January, staying in Tokyo for a couple of days before we headed North. The city felt like a video game set, and arguably four days was not enough to explore it properly. A visit to the Tsukiji food market is a must as well as the Capybara café, if you too have been plagued with the animals on your social media algorithms for the past two years. The majority of our time in the city was spent ticking off relatively touristy activities however it was all super worth it. I was skeptical at the 20 minute wait to get into Menchirashi for the tiktok viral carbonara udon, feeling almost embarrassed that we could be so predictable, but I would fly back to Japan just for that meal… if you do go get the pickled ginger tempura as well! Shopping days are also olympic level there, making packing an unexpectedly strenuous activity.  Betty Smith Jeans is a must go as well as pretty much any store in the back streets of Shibuya.

My dad and his little capybara friend

The holy udon noodles

It was the kind of snow that lets you bounce from turn to turn with almost no effort.

From Tokyo we headed to Furano, where we spent five days touring through the national parks that surround the resort then onto Niseko for a further couple of days. Each day it became clearer and clearer that off-piste there and off-piste in the Alps, where I’m most familiar skiing, are not even relatives. On the first evening in the rental shop we were told that we’d come during a bad weather bout, to my ski-obsessed father’s delight, making a reasonably low energy car ride the next morning to the resort, our expectations low. However, after our first run we were questioning whether we had heard that shop assistant correctly, as the conditions were so impressive I’m almost sure I saw my dad let out a tear or two. It was the kind of snow that allows you to bounce from turn to turn with minimal effort, which was a huge relief after the two hour climb to reach the summit. It seems even bad days are good in Japan.

A two hour climb to reach the summit

The touring up itself is by no means easy, and as a newbie to it I was skeptical by the first summit how much I was willing to sacrifice my legs and potential sanity to powder snow. But after skiing the first run, combined with seeing the hour-long queue in the resort, I started to see the value in it. That is not to say however that my family were not subject to the occasional expletive or tear from my direction on the more precarious kick turns.

Due to our very energetic Georgian guide, breaks were few and far between, much to my disappointment, but he made it clear it was to spend more time at the summits, which were a series of pretty spectacular views. That was then followed by consistently untouched routes down, which didn’t seem to be hard to find. Lunch consisted of semi frozen and practically inhaled onigiri and a couple chocolate biscuits if you were lucky, loot picked up from the essential 7-Eleven stop on the way to the park.

The precarious kick turn

Touring in the National Park

We did encounter some slightly risky moments on the way down, like taking a wrong turn in the fog and finding ourselves in a near vertical couloir. The two options were committing to the drop and hoping for the best or being lowered by rope to the next ledge where we could attempt to stand upright. After watching my 56 year old father ‘show us how its done’ by choosing to avoid the rope technique, throwing himself down the drop and promptly landing not so neatly on his arse, we all chose the latter option. The price you pay I guess.

If you do decide to go, a must would be visiting Mount Yotei near Niseko and peering over the drops into plumes of volcanic smoke. A warning however of the unavoidable smell of sulphur, aka rotten egg, that covers the mountain. As no one warned me I spent the first 20 minutes of the climb checking my breath and regretting my choice of egg sandwich from 7-Eleven that morning (another must-eat snack).

The way into the dreaded couloir...

Scenes from the National Park...

After every day we settled into the unmatched routine of dropping our kit at the car, grabbing an ice cream, milk-flavoured Coolish if I could recommend any one, and then going to the Onsens, which were the hot springs found all over the mountain. Sitting in steaming mineral pools surrounded by the snow felt near ethereal and was essential to avoid unmatched muscle ache the next morning. 

Take an empty suitcase, a fat pair of powder skis

I left Japan with legs stronger than they’ve ever been, and probably ever will be, and a deep appreciation for just how demanding, and rewarding, its snow can be. If you do go, remember to take an empty suitcase, a fat pair of powder skis and leave your ego at home…

Viral Strawberries

Team Lab Tokyo (video game living)