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Exploring
Tohoku...
…on
your skis (snowboards, tele-skis, fun-skis etc.)
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DISCUSS THIS FEATURE
HERE
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Pity poor Tohoku, it is all but ignored by the rest of the world, and even
the rest of Japan. Tokyo is the worlds arguably most developed city. It is also
the economic and pop cultural hub of Asia, with the city coffers larger than
that of 75% of the countries in the world. Osaka, or the
"anti-Tokyo", plays a wonderful second city, was recently in the
running for its own Olympics, and much like the second city of the United
States, a legendary "yakuza" or gangster haven. Kyoto, despite
the fact that most of its ancient grandeur is now a concrete jungle, is still a
place where you can view the Japan of "geisha, temples, and
shrines", that generally speaking, is a textbook relic. Hiroshima, is a
must stop for nearly every North American who wants to "really"
experience Japan. Few leave the war memorial with dry eyes. This author, though
having never been there, will admit to having shed tears over August 1945 in
Japan, a country that has been a major part of his life since 1998.
Even other rural and outdoor recreational areas grab the spotlight over
Tohoku. Hokkaido got the 1972 Winter Olympics in Sapporo. Chubu was the host of
the recent 1998 Winter Games in Nagano Prefecture. Tohoku was given the 1993
World Alpine Ski Championships at Shizukuishi, and even then that was because
it was rumored that Prince Hotel Chain owner Yoshiaki Tsustumi, did not want to
give the championships to his more well known resort Shiga Koogen, as it would
drive the crowds of skiers away from that resort, to his local competitors. The
1993 World Championships will be famous for the uncountable complaints by
competitors, ski federations, and fans, absolutely terrible weather (even
measured by Shizukuishi's notorious track record in that department), and
general lack of preparation, before they will be remembered for the
championships themselves. Fittingly, the sign on the road leading to
”Shizu” welcoming the world to the Championships a decade ago, has
noticeably faded in its coloring. Even Kyushu a more remote and desolate part
of Japan than Tohoku, managed to garner a National Geographic magazine feature
article. The articles lauded its abundant forests, volcanoes, hot springs, and
made it out to be a “not-to-miss” paradise of natural beauty. Tohoku? Well,
my cousin from Minnesota remembers watching the 1993 World Championships on
cable TV, really. He thought the view of Mt. Iwate, the famous Iwate active
volcano, was quite scenic.
Iwate Prefecture fares little better in the scheme of things. It is well
known as one of the "big three" of Japanese rural prefectures. It,
along with Tottori- Ken, the pachinko parlor and used car lot capital of the
world, and Kumamoto-Ken, "Kumamoto", literally translated as
"bear-base", but could mean "there is nothing but bears in this
f#$%&ing place!", bring shivers to the spine of the erudite, urbane,
high school-educated Japanese.
The reaction to these names is similar to what "West Virginia",
"Kentucky", and "Vermont" may bring to a citizen of the
United States. Perhaps it will elicit the response that "Manitoba",
"The Yukon Territories", or "The Maritimes " will in a
Canadian denizen. To an Austrian, the words "Bludenz", "Graz",
and "Dornbirn", will produce that reaction. For a Finn, "Pohjanmaa",
"Savo", and "Oulainen", will certainly produce that
all-too-familiar feeling. Our plentiful Chinese friends will say the same about
"Uighur", "Inner Mongolia", and "Tibet". Aussies,
will react to the utterances of "The Ouback", "Tasmaina",
and "The Gold Coast", in similar fashion. Kiwis will react similarly
if they hear "Wellington", "Christ Church", and
"Auckland". Actually, they are New Zealand's three biggest cities,
but.., well..., can YOU name more than those three places? Anyways, I think you
get the idea.
Perhaps the most fitting metaphor I can think of is one from World War Two.
Iwate was left virtually untouched during the Allied campaign against the
Japanese mainland. Morioka, the capital city was bombed once, a factory near
the train station. Kamaishi, a small costal town was also shelled quite
ferociously from Allied ships. The nature of the attack varies depending on
whom you ask. The Japanese side of the story goes something like this; "Kamaishi
and its denizens bravely withstood an attack of unsurpassed proportions from a
very strong and overpowering enemy. The continued existence of Kamaishi today,
is proof of the "Gambaru"
(intestinal fortitude) and "Yamato
Damashii" (Japanese spirit), those characteristics, unique to the
Japanese race, that allowed them to survive." The Allied account of the
experience was just a little different. It went something like this;
"Shelled a coastal town today, in order to test a new type of ship based
weapon. Weapon is effective, passed the trial, now suitable for shelling Tokyo
and other Japanese targets considered important." This very well may have
been the origin of the term "cannon fodder".
All this lack of attention to Tohoku and Iwate is a loss.... Especially to
those people who like to indulge in winter sports. For those who are interested
in lighter, fluffier snow than that which falls in the ski area dotted area
just north of Tokyo, this may be your place. Do you want to avoid the long
lines of the Chubu region, and Hokkaidos famous resorts? Is the "Shinjuku
on Snow" experience a little too much to waste your time and money on?
Then here in Tohoku we may have your "Manna from Heaven".
For those who have moved to, or live in Iwate many first class resorts are
yours to enjoy. Appi, usually is considered the second or third best resort in
the country. Shizukuishi may coast on the reputation it gained in 1993 for
being the host resort of a World Championship, but it still attracts some of
the best racers in Japan, also many other skiers. Finding out why that is, is
fun. Hachimantai is a famous "boarders, adventurers, and back country
skiers" off-piste paradise. Hachimantai Resort, attracts large groups from
all over the country, eager to learn how to ski. Geto (pia), may be one of the
best ski bargains in the country.
Some skiers (boarders, etc), may not find that enough for their tastes.
Iwate may be a little bit too confining. So, in the tradition of what is
probably the one notable Tohoku-centered book among the thousands of titles you
can find about Japan at most local or chain bookstores in the West, "Exploring
Tohoku: A Guide to Japans Backcountry" by Jan Brown and Yoko
Kmetz, lets "Explore Tohoku" - at least, some of its more unique
winter adventures. The book is, perhaps due to lack of any notable competition,
the definitive guide to Tohoku, its hiking trails, onsens, temples, and
other bucolic treasures. I strongly suggest you do not take THIS article at
THAT level of authority. In fact using the terms "Dean H. Ruetzler"
and "authority" in the same sentence, are quite dangerous. Please do
so at your own risk.
Speaking of risk, one must realize there is at least some risk at one of the
best places for the adventurer. With risk comes reward, and in the case of
Aomori Prefecture's Hakkoda, the reward is powder, or "pow". The
"pow" at Hakkoda is of a legendary reputation. It is said that Aomori
and Akita Prefectures, thanks to the unimpeded weather fronts coming from
Siberia, get more snow than any other place in the world at the same latitude.
Though all of it does not fall at Hakkoda, those who ski Hakkoda, especially in
February, may believe that to be true.
Hakkoda is not your typical ski area. It is a tramway heading to the top of
a mountain peak, off of which, two de facto trails, and countless opportunities
to "play in the woods" arise. The bottom of the area, near the base
lodge, will supply two more lifts, and a few other trails, but using them is
like going into a Ben and Jerry's Ice Cream Shop, skipping the exotic flavors
like Chunky Monkey, Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough, and Toffee Heath Bar Crunch,
and ordering Vanilla.
Skiing the summit of Hakkoda is an unforgettable ski experience. I literally
have never seen more powder in my life, and that includes skiing Colorado's
famous back bowls. I had never experienced waist-deep powder before skiing
there, and memories of skiing there have always been among the best of the
season. Going and "eating pow" at Hakkoda, is a truly unique
experience. Any ski ground that can offer knee-deep powder on the small
"bunny slope" trails near the base lodge is worth the time, effort,
and money spent.
However, it has also been a "legend" of another kind too. Since
hundreds of Japanese Imperial Soldiers perished in the fierce blizzards of an
early twentieth century training exercise held there, Hakkoda has been famously
dangerous too. A piece of advice; DO NOT tell your Japanese employers that you
are going to Hakkoda, unless you want to hear the above story perhaps one
hundred times in one day. My Japanese employers are astounded that I can put
together Intermediate Level sentences in their language, use chopsticks with
rudimentary skill, and manage the left side of the road correctly, let alone
survive a weekend at Hakkoda.
In this case, their paternal, over-protective admonitions are warranted.
Fierce blizzards can come out of nowhere. I have found myself separated from
the group I was with, alone in the woods on more than one occasion while skiing
there. A friend of mine who spent most of the winter skiing at Hakkoda for
three years, has a horror story about getting REALLY lost or two. My second
visit to Hakkoda had literally hundreds of Japanese soldiers searching for two
lost skiers who had been missing for days (they were found, albeit quite
frostbitten). Hakkoda is a great adventure, but please be careful. If you are
really going to go all out, proper precautions like walkie-talkies, signal
flares, etc. are a must. You better bring a bag lunch too, as the line for the
tramway fills up quickly, and the twenty minute wait before the next one comes
will seem like twice that much time. Spending as much time as possible on the
mountain, despite its dangers, is recommended.
A similar experience lies in waiting for the adventurer at Aomori's
Iwakiyama. Iwakiyama is not even a "real" ski area. It is the result
of someone enterprising who sees to it that skiers and the like are taken up to
the top of Mt. Iwakiyama by Sno-Cat. Now, the one time I went, the Sno-Cat only
went three-quarters of the way up to the summit. From there, I got lost from my
ski comrades, and ended up missing the cut off to go back to the main trail
from the woods. (May I add, it was challenging, but very nice skiing in the
woods). An hour later, sweat-soaked, I emerged from the woods at a main road,
and hiked a half kilometer in ski boots to the base lodge. This was after a
half hour of trying to use my downhill skis Cross-Country fashion to negotiate
the run-out to the road. Sounds great to the reader at this point, doesn't it?
Well, my penchant for getting lost, and only experience not being that great
non-withstanding, Iwakiyama does have a good reputation. Especially with the
adventurous types, and the "Powderhounds" looking for their fix of
the white stuff. I have heard from people who have gone on a day where the
summit was accessible, and their critique of the experience was nothing short
of ecstatic. It is from trusted sources of ski info, so I will pass it along.
It looks like Iwakiyama is worth a visit, or two, or...
Another "can't miss" spot on this list is Akita-ken's Tazawako Ski
Area. Little more than an hours drive from Morioka, Iwate prefectures capital.
It combines a pretty decent resort with one of the most spectacular views you
will ever get from a ski area, that of neighboring Lake Tazawako. With that
view, which is nothing short of spectacular (weather permitting), the amount,
quality, and reputation of the "onsens" (hot springs) in the
general vicinity should be enough. The traditional "apres-ski onsen
soak" is probably at its best at Tazawako. Of course two volcanic
eruptions in the past sixty years, in the area, may contribute to that
enjoyable soak too.
The next stop on our exploration of Tohoku is Yamagata Prefecture's Zao Ski
Area. Upon first glance, it appears to be just another ski area, not a unique
adventure. Look again, it IS just another resort, just another European resort,
that is, not exactly what you expect in the land of economic doldrums... I
mean, “rising sun”. Zao was actually patterned after a Swiss Ski resort,
right down to the design of the resort being built around a village, instead of
being above, or removed from it. As far as ambience and tradition go, it is
first rate. If it were not for the ever present kanji on the signs, a
few onsens in the town, and one in the ski area, you may not know you
are in Japan.
Aside from being "St. Anton-in-Tohoku" Zao is also famous for its "juuhyou",
or "frost-covered trees" on its summit. A tramway ride is a must for
the visitor to Zao, as the view of the "juuhyou" is
spectacular. You need to get your tramway tickets beforehand, as it is a very
popular experience. Zao has loads of trails and lifts, and it would probably
take an advanced skier a few days to ski the entire resort (for contrast,
Iwate's medium sized Geto takes about three or four hours). The amenities are
quite good, and the "onsen" are abundant. There is plenty for
Zao to offer the skier. The ticket prices reflect that as Zao is probably
Tohoku's most expensive resort. It certainly is a unique experience, right down
to the lift that goes over a service road. This can totally freak out car
passengers seeing it for the first time. Just maybe, I know this fact from
experience. It was almost as scary as seeing a Boeing 747 land on the runway
that goes over Interstate 80 in Denver, Colorado. Anyways, put Zao on your
"must do" list for Tohoku ski experiences. One way or another, it
will prove worth your while.
Yamagata is also the home of Gassan, which is a unique resort right from the
outset. It is set on a high mountain pass that gets so much snow that the
access road is closed in the winter. As soon as the road is passable to through
traffic, Gassan opens. Most years this is in April. As soon as there is
insufficient snow to ski on, Gassan closes. This is usually late July. They
hold a ski race on the 20th (or is it the 23rd?) of each June. It
has been held every year for many years. It may have originated in Edo
(Feudal)-Era Japan. It is not uncommon to see skiing at Gassan into July.
For those who are still skiing at that time of the year, Gassan is more than
a "day at the slopes", it takes on a pseudo-religious aspect. A trip
to Gassan to ski, becomes more than travel, it is a pilgrimage to the
"Mecca" of late spring and summer skiing. Even if you cannot convince
yourself of that stratified experience, the scenery, the chance to ski that
late in the year, and the "off-the-beaten-path" aura to Gassan, all
are reasons to go.
Tohoku is not limited to these five resorts as far as unique adventures go.
It is full of ski areas, from the mega-resorts, to the small one or two lift
ski areas. In fact Tohoku's only large city of note, Sendai, contains a small
ski area completely within one of its suburbs, lying on a hill. Each and every
ski area I have been to in Tohoku seems to have some sort of a unique character
to it, a "je ne sai quois" that give it some sort of
intangible but remarkable feature. Aside from that, Tohoku's winter resorts can
offer you an abundance of snow, that is of a quality that is clearly surpassed
on this globe only by the North American Rocky Mountains. Despite living in
Vermont, Colorado, and Finland (as in "very freakin' cold Finland"!)
for most of my life, I never had skied in the months of May, June, or July
before setting foot in Tohoku. The next winter (or spring, maybe even summer)
snow adventure is waiting for you, and you do not even have to leave Tohoku to
find it. Enjoy Exploring!
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