For The Truly “Sukii-Baka”! DISCUSS THIS FEATURE HERE

After mid May, one may start getting the idea that the ski season is heading towards a close. Yet, here in Japan, especially after a winter (2001-2002) where this archipelago was absolutely pelted with the white stuff, one might not think that the ski season will eventually end. What started as few runs in mid-December had exploded in to a near obsession and covered nearly five months of skiing at nearly every opportunity I had. It was truly a ski season to remember. I can still picture the sunny day with near perfect ski conditions at Shizukuishi Ski Area doing run after run at an exceedingly fast clip on the Ladies Gondola that served as the apex of my season. The weekend of hip-deep powder at Aomori Prefectures Hakkoda also etched in my Long-Term Memory, as one of that winters, perhaps a lifetime of skiing highlights.

After a sunny day at Amihari in early April, where the snow seemed to melt a centimeter a run, the season suddenly, and much to my disappointment seemed over. One thing after another, from finances (or lack thereof) to prior commitments that did not involve skiing (as hard a concept as that was to initially fathom as possible) kept me from the slopes. I gradually weaned from one of the best ski seasons of my life, and replaced it with a more sedentary and "normal", but not nearly as exhilarating existence. The "buzz" in my life to be supplied by caffeine, the occasional cigarette, and endorphin fixes at the local health club.

I was at that health club on a Saturday when my friend Yosuke asked if I wanted to explore the rumor that there was still some ski-able terrain near the top of Hachimantai Ridge. In the space of about a nanosecond I realized that the ski season was not quite over yet. Yosuke, a "sarariman" (white collar worker) who seems perpetually on the verge of "datsusara" (leaving the "rat race" behind) escaped the rigors of the Japanese corporate tedium by playing running back for a semi-professional American Football team in Japans second highest football league. During the off season he is able to focus more on his other "job"(or "escape from.."), that is hunting down the best places to "haru-sukii" (Spring Ski) north of Tokyo.

Hachimantai Ridge is the mountainous ridge coming off of the prefectures famous and somewhat active volcano Mt. Iwate, that separates Iwate and Akita prefectures. It is also host to some great skiing, hiking, and "onsen"-ing (volcanic hot springs) in both prefectures. The skiing really includes just about anything that one can do on the snow. The ridges most renowned resort, Hachimantai Ski Area is a legend throughout Japan for 1) Snowboarding 2) "Off-Piste" skiing, as its three lifts and handful of trails are not what legends are made of. 3) Being a starting point for some of the best backcountry skiing in the Tohoku region, if not the whole island chain. It is not so much the ski area(s) at Hachimantai that are the charm of it as the fact that a lot of the ridge can be, and is, used as a playground for your favorite snow endeavor. Another big part of the Hachimantai charm is the "off-the-beaten-path" atmosphere it exudes.

It can also be used as such for a good solid six months of the year. Hachimantai Ski Area was the only place offering skiing in Iwate at the beginning of the season in late November-early December, when that precedent-setting ski season looked like it might last all of about five weeks, thanks to a lack of any appreciable early season snow. The drive towards the top of the ridge confirmed that nearly six months later there still was a sh..um, there was a frig... uuh, there was A LOT of snow still left! Along the service road it was a good three meters plus in several spots on the drive towards the top, and one or two spots produced at least five or six meters. Yes, in late May, especially after that winters barrage of the white stuff from Siberia and other near-Arctic points north, the ski season was not quite over along the Hachimantai ridge.

Of course it was also prime hiking season, prime onsen season, and the sightseeing busses packed with the ubiquitous Japanese tourists abound at a famous spot like Hachimantai. Lets us not forget the camera-wielding "poozu-samurai" and "piisu-geisha". They all comprised a relatively large sized crowd up near the summit. At that time Hachimantais metaphorical “path” may have been a little “beaten”, thanks to the numbers. Couple that with the fact that skiing, while decent for the time of year, is not supplemented by lifts in Tohoku (with the notable exception of Gassan), and you can make the assumption that somebody on skis when they could easily be doing something else is a little "sukii-baka" ("ski crazy") (Side note; "-baka" attached at the end of the word such as "sukii-baka" means "to be crazy (stupid) for", used alone, it is one of the most insulting, powerful curse words in the Japanese lexicon, in no way do I recommend you use the word that way, unless you want to take responsibility for the consequences. In other words; "DONT TRY THIS AT HOME!" Or more correctly, while in Japan). In response to that charge, I do plead guilty. I do have other interests in life, of course, but some how I managed to make it to the slopes 44 times that year, and for about five months I had little else for recreational pursuits in my life.

Needless to say I was not the only one. Although in the minority among the plentiful hikers, sightseers, birdwatchers, onsen-ers, and amateur photographers around the summit of Hachimantai, there were those who chose to board or ski their way around the top. All told, about twenty-five people had no better choice on a Sunday in late spring, but to negotiate turns, trees and jumps in one of snows last bastions of the year in Tohoku. Those people still blissfully boarding and alpine skiing are the truly "sukii-baka"!

The majority of the skiing/snowboarding that takes place at the Hachimantai "chojoo" (summit) will be just a little below the parking lot and buildings set up just below the summit (about a 15-20 minute climb from that base area). If one skirts a little off to the south of the parking area (marked by a viewing stand) it will shortly lead you to a ridge that runs about a kilometer in length. You are basically free to choose where you want to drop off from the ridge and schuss away. The territory as you drop off is anywhere from intermediate level to a few decent challenging pitches that are in over 30 degrees in steepness. It can lead you through some wooded glades of varying thickness, depending on where you jump off the ridge and it all eventually runs out at a hotel/onsen resort with a tasty but limited selection of "mountain" meals (soba noodles, raamen, etc. usually featuring "sansai" ("mountain veggies"). The onsen though not very opulent is a legend in this region and beyond, especially for its "rotenburo" ("outdoor bath"), and milky colored water. Another decent spot for satiating your hunger (of the "digestive" and not "ski" variety) is the basement cafeteria at the building near the summit, but my "o-susume" ("humble recommendation") is the resort building.

In lieu of any operating lifts or tramways, the Hachimantai "chojoo" skier or boarder is left with two options for replacing them. The first is to park your car at the top, and then hike back from the resort. Yosuke and I tried it after our first run there. After thoroughly depleting our bilingual lexicon of expletives (From the Japanese "A#%" to "Z"%%&#&#&O!" with the English "F%#$ &$%S" and "This was YOUR F#$%&%$# idea wasn`t it?" and "Like H#%& it was, it was YOUR G&% $&%N idea!"), several breaks for catching our breath, a serious amount of sweat in our ski wear, and a 45 minute return after maybe 5 minutes of skiing, we made it back to where we started from. We also came to the conclusion that hiking back was a very stupid move on our part. Of course what can you expect from two ex-college football players, Brain Surgery? How about a dissertation in Quantum Physics? Complicated Algorithmic Formulae? An undergraduate thesis titled "The Hypertrophy and Hyperplasic Response of Type 1, 2A, and 2B Muscle Fibers to Resistance Training Regimen"? I do not think so. After all you are talking about two people who elicit surprise when they utter grammatically correct sentences in their mother tongues, let alone a second language.

That left the second option. The road to the summit, of course goes by the resort during its wandering climb, and then follows the ridge to the parking lot and building by the summit. Accordingly, this means you may want to check your speed at the end of your run unless you are skilled at skiing on top of and/or avoiding passing cars. Or maybe you can just jump the width of the road in one entire leap? It could be fun. You never know until you try.

We each took turns driving from the summit to the resort caddying for each other, but to be perfectly honest, on a day when there is a huge chunk of ski-able snow and 60 degree (Fahrenheit) temperature, spending half your time driving is not exactly ideal, though preferable to the "hiking" option. Toward that end, convincing a third, fourth, fifth, etc. person to come along is a good idea. Yosukes take on all this; "I strongly recommend you drive when you go Hachimantai." When someone who has the ability to bench-press a house, you should probably heed their advice.

While driving up, we happened to pass by an athletic looking middle-aged couple that happened to be skiing at that time. They stopped and motioned to us, soon there were three of us skiing at a time, and one person driving. We were skiing and driving in turns, making the whole deal a lot easier for all concerned.

In my lifetime, a cornucopia of images, some from my past, some from my recent experiences here, have come to comprise the image in my mind that has become "Japan". Some shatter stereotypes some do all but confirm them. Some are well informed and thoroughly experienced some were etched in the thoroughly ignorant times of my life, thousands of miles from Asia. Nonetheless, they add up to the lingering but vivid snapshots recalled from memory, in association with the uttering of "Japan". Here are some of those highlights from that wild and dangerous place know as "my mind".

Well, what happened next is definitely etched in my log of prominent Japan-concerned memories. Few things that have happened to me can I remember with such clarity. Certainly in a country full of both blatant and subtle imagery that is so remarkable, this is one for posterity.

The woman, to our best guesses, a fit mid fifties, volunteered to show us a good place to ski on the far south of the ridge, which, you guessed it, required more hiking. So naturally, she tears up ahead of us. She was a good 50 to 100 yards ahead of us by the time she reached her target. Not bad at all for someone who had about twenty to twenty five years on us in the age department. Not that either of us will challenge Naoko "Q-Chan" Takahashi (Sydney Olympic Marathon Gold Medallist), but both of us were in too good a shape, and worked out too frequently, to get totally embarrassed by someone old enough to be one of our mothers on that climb.

So naturally the thoughts rolling through my mind went something like this; "What is her SECRET?". ."She must have discovered the FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH!". Move over "The Okinawa Longevity Plan" I`ve discovered The "Ornery Tohoku Obaa-Chan Method "! I was going to quiz her on her secrets and sell them for millions world-wide, with a book tour and seminars planned for the end of that year shortly after publishing and receiving my first six-figure royalty check. What would enable a woman who appeared to be less than ten years from her pension to not just embarrass, but, in addition, thoroughly humiliate any sense of ego or fitness we may have had?

What happened next just defies comprehension, and will probably not be forgotten until the late stages of dementia creep in. After smoking two men twenty years her junior up that hill climb, what does she do to kill the two minutes before we arrive? She smokes something else! She pulls out a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, lights up, and puffs away. It was humiliating enough to be beat up the hill so badly, but by a smoker?

That was quite memorable for Yosuke too, as he never fails to mention it any time we cross paths. Not only that, in absence of his football endeavors, it is his burning motivation to stay in (relative to humans, not the genetically super gifted anomaly) shape. He says he works out regularly now "So the next time we meet that old lady, I can beat her up the hill!". Me? I still work out regularly but have given up hope on my chances of beating "chain-smoking granny". Her? I expect her to win the 50-59 year old-class marathon at the next World Senior Olympic games, and celebrate with a cigar as she crosses the finish line, ahead of Frank Shorter, Uta Pipping, Rosa Mota, Arturo Barrios, Lasse Viren, Mary Decker-Tabb, Zola Budd, and Jim Ryun.

We spent most of the rest of the day taking turns skiing down the ridge. As much as a tobacco-addicted woman in her fifties as active as her (her husband was in good shape too, they claimed to be skiing for the seventy-seventh time that season!), the concept of skiing in June was just as remarkable. A day full of runs on as much snow as there was, with the sun blazing away, and one of the best views possible of Mount Iwate, Iwate Prefectures flagship active volcano of a mountain, was equally remarkable. A day like that during April or May is hard enough to find let alone have a day like that on June 18th.

To add to the great atmosphere of the day, our driving and skiing partners prepared a picnic style lunch, and willingly shared it. They freely chatted about the seventy-seven times they had been skiing that winter, and we all shared a lot of Tohoku skiing "shop talk". Not surprisingly, in my four plus years of living and working in Japan, some of the most effective "culture-barrier breaking" moments, have been on skis, in the mountains. This was certainly one of those times. A common bond of skiing, enjoyment of the outdoors, the pursuit of an active lifestyle, and the accompanying slightly dysfunctional personalities brought the four of us together. To enhance the bond, though it is not my habit while skiing, when caffeine is usually my stimulant of choice, I asked the woman for a cigarette. I suppose that we all had a spontaneous, unforced moment of "kokusaika" ("internationalization"), brought about by being four of the rare breed who do not see the calendar as a limitation to enjoying the ski season. Unlike table manners, most forms of humor, what mammals are acceptable to eat, and literal translations, being a little "sukii-baka" is not limited by culture.

If you venture to places like Hachimantai, meet the "sukii-baka" you will. If you choose to recreate up in the mountain passes after the resorts close, they certainly will be there. From Gassan, which gives the "ski-crazy" legitimacy by erecting lifts on a high pass and not opening until April or May, to Hachimantai, skiing can be done when the "fair-weather" skiers are tanning on the beaches, sipping margaritas and pina coladas, and playing tennis. I am sure that more than a few such places exist in Japan and around the world, beckoning those who have that recessive gene that results in addiction to snow sports.

My adventures in Hachimantai have continued. In addition to that first time, I also went that following July (Yes, July!) and managed to find some still ski-able snow when by all means I should have been playing beach volleyball, enjoying Japanese summer festivals, eating “kaki-koori “ (Japanese-style Sno-cones) watching fireworks, what have you, definitely not skiing. The next year Yosuke, another friend of his, and I made it to Hachimantai in May when nary an open ski lift was to be found in Iwate. Among our adventures was a hike with ski equipment to the summit, and the pursuant venture on skis. Everest it was not, but still a decent run. The "sukii-" and "sunobo-baka" were there too, in decent numbers. That day must have found seventy-five to an even hundred enthusiasts plying their wares around the ridge.

In the time since then I have slowly regressed to a slightly more sane winter existence. Harder jobs with more responsibility, more diverse interests (such as Japanese study and writing), a wider ranging social life, a few extra pounds, the increasing mortality one discovers the more one departs their twenties, and more and more interesting volunteer opportunities, all take their toll on my free time devoted to the slopes. I must present myself as a merely a "very devoted ski enthusiast", and not with the moniker "ski-crazy" anymore.

Nonetheless, I can still take a look at Hachimantai now, only the next town over, see patches of snow near the top, and despite temperatures getting into the seventies, I start to daydream. That daydream usually involves getting my skis out of the storage shed, flipping on the goggles with the tinted lenses, and making a beeline to "winters last stand". One of these days... In the meantime, I will keep at my regular exercise regime. There are many reasons to exercise of physical and mental health, even social benefit. However, in the back of my head will be a strong-willed and very fit Japanese woman nearly twice my age who "schooled" me, plus a comrade at our own game, then smoked a cigarette to celebrate it.