In Search of Powder | A ski road trip in Honshu, Japan

Record low-levels of snow? Pah! A ski road trip in Nagano prefecture on Japan’s Honshu island (… the non-Niseko one) looks pretty darn good to us…

Standing on Goryu Ridge in Hakuba at 2,000m, the mighty face of the Kashimayari banded with spines as a backdrop at the most striking section of Japan’s Northern Alps, you couldn’t imagine it would be the ill-fated season marked by record low levels of snowfall and cut short by coronavirus.

“You can bank on a metre of snow a week here,” our guide, owner of Hakuba Powder Tours and Australia Winter Olympian Steve Lee, said. “Usually…”

This would be one of very many throwaways I’d hear about the atypical snow on my debut trip to Japan. In a shock winter that received less than half the expected snowfall, the landscape and conditions to regulars must have been somewhat of a buzzkill.

To me, a Japan first-timer, it was only the remarks of my well seasoned Japow crew and of disoriented locals – albeit intended to inspire and defend – that would conjure any semblance of disappointment around snow depth on my ski road-trip in Nagano Prefecture on Japan’s Honshu (the main) island.

To bring it into perspective: on average, Japan receives 12m of snowfall annually. This season saw a total of around 5.5m. But – and here’s the crux – Chamonix, say, sees an average of 5m.

The 80-minute skin up to this momentous point under the gaze of Mt Kashimayari, setting out from the top of Hakuba 47 resort, is quite possibly the most spectacular hike I’ve done. A splitboarding couple cooking up noodles on a camp stove on a mid-mountain plateau with white, flat-capped Mount Fuji behind in the far distance made it all feel very Japanese and un-Alpine. And it was about to get better.

A dry night down in Happo village had us expecting ordinary conditions, dust-on-crust, on our descent off the northerly aspect of Goryu ridge. But with a little snow blowing in from the north end of Hakuba Valley – along which there are 10 unconnected ski resorts with seemingly endless backcountry – it had skipped the usual dropping points to land this Goryu microclimate. The reward of finding an unexpected stash was then doubled on discovering its quality, the texture of silken tofu, and… untouched.

Hakuba Valley’s 10 ski resorts: Jiigatake, Kashmayari, Sanosaka, Goryu, Hakuba 47, Happo One, Iwatake, Tsugaike, Norikura, Cortina

A relatively easy access to the drop-in does not, of course, indicate a straightforward descent. There’s a helluva lot of great backcountry skiing to be had up around the top of 47. Trouble comes with much of it being roped off and tricky to access, or illegal, so close to the resort boundary, and you’ll have your pass pulled for ducking ropes into it.

You have to head up along the ridge above the treeline to drop into this idyllic area leading into a silent birch forest that, while phenomenally beautiful – in scenery and skiing – has terrain traps, gullies and cliff sections to navigate. Ski down too low and you’ll wade thigh-deep through glacial water for a 2km walk out. Best left to the pro to find the sweet spot – a thought I had many times daily exploring the vast Hakuba wild.

We sessioned the top quarter of the face, about 250m of vertical, before heading back inbounds to the Alps360 sundeck for ramen, katsu curry and Asahi.

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Skinning and sake

The first 36 hours of the trip weren’t quite as successful in the search for powder. Arriving in Nagano by bullet train from Tokyo then a bus to Hakuba, I knew it shouldn’t be T-shirt weather in February with a snowless valley floor. Then came rain…

A usually fail-safe plan to head to the high Hiyodori ridge in the national park backcountry above Tsugaike resort wouldn’t cut above the rain line on day one. I was in the country famed for dry powder; I couldn’t start off on such a wrong foot, not even to recce the pistes of Happo One or Hakuba 47.

And anyway, doesn’t Japan’s appeal go way beyond the allure of its white gold?

So a dive into Japan’s coast culture and alternative sporting scene, one a lot less famed, saw me crash Steve’s off-day and drive 50kms to the grey, foreboding Sea of Japan to surf and then refuel on snow crab pancakes at an Itoigawa seafood market.

The weather cycle that brings the famous Japow is the cold northwesterly wind from Siberia. “A few days of warmer, wet weather from the south isn’t so rare at this time of year,” Steve cooly tells me on our way back to Hakuba, unfazed by the England-level rain I’d just left behind.

“The snow off the back of this rain, when the north weather pushes back, can be sensational.” And so it was…

Seven days touring in the Hakuba Valley from various lift-assisted vantage points and I feel like I’d never even scratch the surface of Hakuba’s vast backcountry.

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A dip into Niigata

From Hakuba I’d rented a vehicle to drive over the Nagano ‘state’ border into Niigata. Myoko is a 2,454m volcano visible from almost any mountain in Nagano – a sort of lighthouse throughout the trip.

Driving was much more straightforward than I’d imagined, especially in rural Japan and, unfortunately, with no recent heavy snow here to contend with. This part of the Japan journey was a highlight, with detours down the ancient gold highway by some beautiful old-style architecture, to a sake brewery for a tour and tasting, to temples and remote alpine restaurants (Nagano specialises in buckwheat so there’s excellent soba to be had).

Best known for snow haul, sat so close (less than 20km) to the coast, it was a no-show the next day in Myoko. Superb spring-like conditions did allow for a beautiful skin up through the Akakura Onsen forest that was more a nature hike than a testament to Myoko’s full riding potential. The sunshine brought out snow hare, kamoshika and pygmy woodpeckers, along with plenty of bear claw marks on trees I hoped wouldn’t wake early in the unseasonably warm weather. Incredible views stretched from Lake Nojiri all the way north to the sea.

Something I’ve come to understand about Japan is that, unlike in the Alps, the snow is never absent for long… Especially taking into account Myoko’s average annual snow haul of 14 metres!

Waking up, prepared to head on to my next stop, I opened the curtains to a different resort entirely, with rain turning to snow overnight. I abandon packing, grabbing my flat-light lenses, and head onto the low-pitched slopes of Myoko’s Akakura Onsen.

Myoko Kogen is made up of a handful of ski areas: Myoko Akakura comprises Akakura Onsen (gentle slopes) and Akakura Kanko (slightly steeper, but with more beginner slopes). Suginohara has long pistes and famous backcountry, while Seki Onsen offers steep, deep tree skiing. Ikenotaira Onsen is ideal for new off-pisters, with a mellow pitch.

Free to rip

En route to Madarao ski resort, 30km to the south, in the characteristically tiny k-truck, I was battling a true Japan weather cycle.

“I have powder in my eyes!”

A few hours on, and I was stuck waist-deep in a snow drift at the bottom of a natural halfpipe in Ninja tree glade.

“I have powder in my eyes!” cried an Aussie accent from deep within a cloud of smoke tearing past me.

Sheepskins were falling from the sky over Madarao and the result was nearly a metre of powder, the dry, light stuff I’d come for. It was the kind of riding where turns were to come up for air from the unrelenting front-spray from my skis.

Madarao is a 60% ungroomed resort and a tree-skiing paradise, with 13 supremely gladed (perhaps a tad too much) inbound ski runs that have been cleared of brush and had trees thinned out for the ultimate tree-skiing experience. Off-piste skiing is encouraged here – a rarity in Japan. You’re free to rip in Madarao.

A pointer from Madarao legend and ski guide Aki (who you’ll find at his coffee shop at the lift base) to get into the out-bounds sidecountry, skier’s far right, turned out invaluable.

Taking the novelty ‘pizza box’ one-seater with no bar, back, sides or foot rest (officially called lift No.13) to the top of resort you can boot up to the summit of Mt Madarao adding a little extra vertical, which doesn’t go amiss, Madarao peaking out at just 1382m with a drop of 440m.

• The Japan-special one-seater chairs

The 20-minute climb through beautiful forest to apex and you can drop over into a steeper backbowl, one that’ll require hitchhiking back or a pick up from Aki. But in such deep conditions neither the 50m elevation gain nor the backbowl was worth the extra effort, and I rode and re-rode this front-side north-facing aspect with its inconspicuous access with not a soul around. Each lap I excitedly followed a line falling further and further from the boundary, eventually dropping far under the last egress that’d spit me back into the resort. Lesson learned.

Two days exploring Madarao was plenty, a small resort designed for a fresh dump and just steep enough to handle a metre. It’s a good resort one to discover without a guide, saving the money and the hard yards for Hakuba with its greater vertical and variety.

Last stop…

Unbelievably, after two weeks I’d been missing the groomers I found out, as I tore around Shiga Kogen’s mile-upon-mile of piste and inter-connected ski area (à la Europe). Well, 30cms of the driest fresh on the Olympic top-to-bottom is Japanese-style February piste skiing, I guess. More so with a troop of wild snow monkeys milling about.

Here’s to Japan’s worst snow year on record – I’m humbled to have been a part of it.