Article in The Guardian about backcountry boarding in Hokkaido.

[nippontiger 8]

Found this article about backcountry Hokkaido....

Guardian Japan Backcountry Article

[nagoid 4]

And here it is:

 

Fat snowflakes were falling as we walked through the pine forest along a path deep in powder when something suddenly caught my attention through the branches. A flash of pink, and then another – two bare bottoms that suddenly dropped out of sight into a thick white cloud.

 

The path turned into a series of slippery, ice-coated stone steps and descended to a series of small pools, just visible through the fog of steam that rose gently from their surface.

 

A group of wrinkly Japanese men sat poaching in the lower one, while some were lying on the rocks around its edge to cool down, naked but for a hankerchief-sized "modesty towel", strategically placed. They nodded hello. I tried to maintain eye contact, before remembering that, aside from staring at someone's genitals, this is one of the rudest things you can do in Japan, taken as a sign of aggression. Even out here in the wild backwoods of Hokkaido island, Japan's cultural etiquette applies.

 

The men I was with stripped completely, hanging their five layers of ski clothing on a tree and scuttling barefoot across the ice to the pools. I, on the other hand, was grateful that on the rare occasion the sexes bathe together in Japan's natural hot springs, or onsen, women are allowed swimwear. Easing my limbs into the 40C water, and leaning back against a mossy stone with a can of Sapporo beer in my hand felt amazing.

 

That day we'd hiked for three hours up the undeveloped peaks around the mountain called Tokachidake, through thigh-deep powder, with our skis and snowboards on our backs. The run down had been lovely, between trees painted white by a perfect coating of crystalline snow – but the few short sections of powder riding had been interspersed with tiring traverses and more walking.

 

Mountains, volcanoes, enchanting forests, natural hot springs and the famously deep powder – this is what brought me to Hokkaido. Japan's northernmost island actually attracts more summer tourists – they come to see the lavender fields and dairy farms which make the Japanese think of it as exotic and, weirdly, European. But it is perhaps best known for its premier ski resort, Niseko.

 

Niseko is rapidly turning into the Whistler of the east, with large accommodation developments and overseas investment, several linked areas and hundreds of bars and restaurants. Australians and Asians flock there, and for good reason: it is a fantastic resort. Starting our trip there, we skied metre-deep powder until 9pm in a vast nightskiing area that is so well lit you can go off-piste, in goggles. Down in the main village, Hirafu, there are funky bars including Blo Blo – an ice bar with fairylights, icicles, and 1970s porn on the ceiling, where they top up your beer with vodka – and Gyu Bar, accessed through a fridge door. One morning we booked a "first tracks" trip, riding up to the Niseko Village ski area on the first piste-basher of the day at 7am, before the lifts opened, to watch the sunrise over Mount Yotei, which looks like Mount Fuji. Down the road in nearby Niseko Weiss, a disused ski resort where they have set up a cat-ski operation, we took £10-a-go rides up to deep, untouched powder – pretty flat, but still a great experience.

 

Niseko has some amazing off-piste riding, and though you have to access the backcountry areas through special gates, which close at 2pm, and the terrain is nowhere near as challenging as the Alps, the powder is wonderful.

 

But I wanted to see what the rest of Hokkaido had to offer. There are dozens of resorts across the island, and away from them, several adventure operators now offer backcountry ski trips where you snowshoe to reach virgin snow away from the crowds.

 

Another bonus is that you can stay in a ryokan, one of the traditional countryside inns that often incorporate natural hot springs as a basic sort of spa, with several pools of different temperatures inside and out.

 

The gorgeous Kami Horo ryokan was a short drive from Tokachidake. A fox met us in the car park, and we slept in simple tatami mat rooms with those sliding doors ninjas crash through in films, on futons rolled out while we were at dinner.

 

We were up at 6.30 to drive to the Daisetsuzan national park, to Asahi (yes, like the beer!) mountain, Hokkaido's highest peak (2,290m). Asahi is also a live volcano: a tendril of smoke sketched its way across the sky like a wisp from a dragon's nostril.

 

As on the previous day, we met Makoto Takeishi, our guide from Hokkaido Outdoor Adventures, in the car park, where he had spent the night in his campervan. He handed out coffee brewed on his tiny hob while we waited for the resort's only lift, a big cable car, to crank into operation.

 

Most of Japan's resorts are highly controlled and safety conscious. Many ban skiing off-piste altogether; others insist you register with the police station in advance, or wear a special coloured bib and helmet. Asahidake, however, is tipped as an experts' resort, where going off-piste is expected.

 

"Shaun White [the Olympic gold-medallist snowboarder] was here a few years ago and rode the chutes from the top over and over," said Ken McBride, our companion from the tourist board. In our imaginations, it sounded like Japan's answer to La Grave. After checking out the mellow rolling pistes, we set out from the lift on snowshoes across an open area of hard-packed snow, into a vicious blizzard.

 

Trudging over the crust with a cruel wind slicing at my cheeks, I tried to adopt the mindset of a polar explorer and zone out, but occasionally my foot would disappear into thigh-deep powder. Once, when I pulled it out, its snowshoe was no longer attached. We dug for 30 minutes but had to abandon it: it seemed to have disappeared down a tunnel. We later learnt that this area is infamous for strange holes that sometimes eat entire snowboarders, never mind their footwear.

 

At the most thrilling section of downhill, the snow was so scarily deep that when I reached the flat bottom and took off my board, I sank up to my neck in powder. The only way out was to swim, holding my board in front of me like a float, to a shallower bit.

 

That night's ryokan, the Yumoto Yukomansou, was amazing, with two huge onsens with several hot pools. Dinner was a delicate feast of tiny dishes – a cube of soy sauce foam with salmon sashimi, a shotglass of clear, mineral-water jelly. Breakfast came in a black lacquered box that pulled apart to reveal shelves of tiny dishes.

 

We had hoped that our backcountry adventure would take us to steep terrain heavily laden with Hokkaido's famous powder (winds from Siberia drop their loads over Hokkaido's western resorts after crossing the Sea of Japan, guaranteeing a constant supply of the white stuff). But we realised that this was our European interpretation. The hiking only ever earned us a few minutes of turns, on terrain no steeper than a European blue run. In Japan it seems, backcountry skiing is as much about the primeval thrill of being isolated in the wild, with the chance of spotting bears, racoons and ferrets.

 

After visiting a couple of Hokkaido's other resorts, we realised we were never going to find any steep terrain. So we stopped looking for La Grave, and embraced tree skiing, and the joy of that ridiculous powder.

 

I loved Kamui Ski Links, where we found fresh tracks through bamboo all day in the backcountry section, and had a good day's riding (though mainly in forbidden areas, I must admit) in what could be Hokkaido's weirdest resort, Tomamu. The company that owns it has built four massive towers that look like Tetris blocks, an igloo village, and a massive indoor wave pool in a vast wilderness area.

 

Much of the pleasure of skiing in Japan is, of course, found off the slopes. Ken took us on a bizarre night out in Asahikawa, Hokkaido's second-largest city, that included obligatory visits to a karaoke bar and an arcade of photobooths full of giggling teenage girls and drunks, and which started in a reggae bar that played hip-hop and served sushi. We sat on cushions and made the most of the £10 "all you can drink in an hour" offer found at most bars – a good deal when a beer costs £5.

 

People think of Japan as expensive (it is) and impenetrable to westerners, but we had no trouble getting around. All the road signs are in English as well as Japanese, the satnav spoke our lingo, and people were keen to help.

 

The ideal way to do Hokkaido is to combine Niseko and a backcountry trip with a few days in Furano, a cool city from which you can drive to several small resorts. Furano's hill has a decent variety of runs, but while you can be naughty and go off-piste, they're pretty serious about forbidding it. Downtown has good bars and izakayas (the Japanese answer to the pub, but with more focus on food), and the surrounding woods are full of quirky cabins turned into cafes, organic farms and microbreweries by a growing movement of "slowlifers" – city escapees seeking the good life. The best we found was Cafe Goryo, doing banana milkshakes and curry. We liked Furano's smart, stylish Natulux hotel, while families might prefer the giant New Furano Prince Hotel and its cute attraction, Ningle Terrace, a row of wooden chalets containing boutiques and a snow-tubing course.

 

Many of Japan's ski resorts are being forced to offer more than just skiing. Around 80 resorts remain open on Hokkaido; there were 130 in Japan's economic heyday in the late 1980s and early 1990s, when skiing was booming. Apart from Niseko, they're struggling. "The kids can't afford to ski any more, and they would rather stay home and play computer games," was the explanation we heard everywhere.

 

The new growth market is tourists from South Korea, China and Indonesia, who haven't seen snow before and just want to play with it, rather than go skiing.

 

In some ways that's good for experienced skiers – there isn't too much competition for the powder, but it also means the resorts are concentrating on adding banana rides and reindeer petting rather than getting those backcountry areas open.

 

Niseko is leading the way in that respect, and there is no getting away from the fact that it is by far the island's best resort. But with all the Aussies, it also feels a bit like Neighbours on snow, and it's just a tad corporate. Exploring the backcountry and beyond is essential for a taste of real Japan, for naked dunking and more.

 

 

[Mike Pow 52]

Pity her guides haven't heard about Kurodake if she was looking for Hokkaido's La Grave.

[griller 9]

When have 'articles' like that ever been anything other than puff pieces for certain businesses?

[NoFakie 45]

Loads of good footage out there from Hokkaido bc, so lets just say she lucked out. Its a bit ridiculous expecting guides to show you any steep goods "in a blizzard".

 

I've not been, but here's a photo of the "Kami Horo ryokan" in case her "gorgeous" has you imagining a wooden building, tiled roof with curved eaves, verandahs, carp ponds, etc. etc. Its what I expected because she sets it up with a previous line about ryokans being "traditional country inns". In fairness to the place, they do not call themselves a ryokan and are possibly embarrassed by it. The name is "Kami Horo Sou". In terms of architecture, this is michi no eki territory.

 

[Tubby Beaver 209]

yeah, she writes as if everyone in Japan is still going around in Kimono's.

[NoFakie 45]

If you do the research, you can have a holiday in Japan staying in traditional places, but that clearly isn't one of them.

 

Their website says you can drop in a bath at typical onsen price and or for lunch. The menu includes things like yaki soba for 500 yen. If you tell any Japanese person that you went to a traditional ryokan (a massively loaded term) and ate yakisoba, they will probably pull a quizzical look. That's unless they are typical Osaka people, in which case they will simply laugh in your face.

[Jynxx 4]

[RobBright 35]

Originally Posted By: Tubby Beaver

yeah, she writes as if everyone in Japan is still going around in Kimono's.

I saw lots of lovely young ladies walking around today in kimono.

What is the plural form of kimono? kimonoes as in dominoes or kimonos as in the regular plural form? or because it's a foreign word, is it just kimono? hmmmm