My last day skiing first looks problematic, then turns to pleasant anticipation, becomes gloomy, then brightens, sort of. You’ll see or not see what I mean, or both.
As predicted, it rains in Hakuba that evening and, torrentially, overnight. Rain is forecasted in Myoko as well, the next day’s destination, planned since October. The objective was to re-attempt last year’s aborted tour, reported in last year’s trip report, to ski the backcountry of Maeyama with Bill Glude, avalanche expert of the highest order and guide. In our pre-trip meeting the evening before, we both agree that skiing Shiga Yokoteyama, the highest resort in Japan, makes more sense given the rain. It should snow there, by forecast and by Bill’s experience. Plus, a mutual friend from Tokyo, who rides and instructs there, confirms that it is snowing there. I was there once before, last year, on a glorious sunny day, with glistening stellar that had fallen the night before. Problem solved; we are looking forward to some great skiing at Yokoteyama. In fact, I already have in mind terrain into which a couple of unwitting resort skiers skied last year, then had to be searched and rescued by helicopter, at their great luck and expense.
The next morning, I’m packed and checked out when Bill swings by to both pick me up and to convey the bad news. As he is leaving Yokoteyama at about 6 AM to return to Tokyo, Brad reports heavy rain. Things are not looking good; it’s still drizzling in Hakuba. Nevertheless, I propose staying in Hakuba since it nothing has escaped the rain. I know that he has clients in Myoko the next day. Staying in Hakuba, he wouldn’t make it to Myoko in time for a pre-trip meeting at a reasonable time. Regardless, he focuses on what’s best for this day. His experience is that Hakuba will get cold first, before Shiga, before Myoko. The rain, particularly higher up, can very well turn to snow. Then, he checks the temperature at the top. It has dropped 4 Celsius, or was it 6?, in an hour. Bill says that’s a very good sign; it should keep dropping; rain should turn to snow. I suggest, hesitantly, the Happo-one alpine, where I hiked up the day before. Bill vetos that without hesitation. I’m good, very good. How about Tsugaike, where I was two days earlier? How about Denkuhara, which we didn’t get to? Bill likes it! If the weather goes the way he expects, could be a lot of snow there. I’m all in. And, since he has not heard of it, I’m inviting him to dinner at Issei, my new favorite Hakuba restaurant. We have a plan! He suggests hanging out a while for coffee, to let the weather develop, rather than going up and getting wet. Coffee sounds good to me. He chooses a shop named Zou, next to the train station.
Nice young woman, with an friendly, easy going Australian demeanor, explains to me what a Long Black is. I explain that I’m American and, to me, that sounds like an Americano. Right on. One Long Black. Bill orders both coffee and breakfast. I guess we’ll while away some time here, so I order a small bite to eat as well. Then, Bill starts waxing about how so-and-so used to work there and how she used to be the heart and soul of Zou. The nice young woman smiles and agrees that she is missed. I can’t help it, so I ask, “Bill, what are you saying exactly? That this place is now heartless and soulless?” He’ll get me back.
By the time breakfast is finished, the rain has let up and it’s gotten cooler. We head to Tsugaike, take the gondola up to the top, and encounter snow!
Today, we have only one objective, Denkuhara. We take the direct route. Along the way, we stop at a grove of trees. Seems like a popular place to gather. A large group of perhaps 12 Japanese snowboarders are also there. Bill and I admire the their snowboards. There are all shapes and styles, including carving boards, fishtails, spoon tips, many custom snowboards. These are certainly enthusiasts.
The group heads off before us and we take our time, taking some photos.
Bill expands on what he’s carrying in his pack and, with a completely straight face, notes that today is the first time this season that he’s brought along rope. Yup, if you read last year’s trip report, you’ll know he got me back for that one at Zou Cafe; he got me good.
I’m always keen to learn what Bill’s thinking. Already, on the way up to the grove of trees, he has already shared with me observations of note; for example, snow sticking to the opposite side of tree trunks than it normally does. That means wind direction is not normal. That means we are in a circular storm system. That means we can’t count on normal drifts and wind transport; we need to be wary of avalanche hazard in unexpected places, unexpected to Bill since I have no expectations. We might also encounter a big shift in wind. Continuing up from the grove, we skin up both scoured icy surfaces and powder of varying depth. Bill points out that uncovered snow that was rained upon will freeze to ice and not cause a persistent weak layer; heavily covered wet snow will drop in temperature at a slow rate, resulting in a layer that is stable. The shallow layers of powder is where there will be concern later. Temperature drop will be rapid; a persistent weak layer is a good possibility.
As we continue our ascent. It gets windier and colder, enough to chill both of us. Me, I’m also damp from earlier perspiration. That doesn’t help. We find a few trees to shelter amongst, add a layer, and decide to retreat to the grove of trees. But, before doing so, we ascend a few more meters to get to a nice open face. The snowboarders apparently like it too; we find them there, having already transitioned and about to descend. We watch them. Visibility is dropping. Some clearly have trouble finding the fall line. Others, perhaps those who are familiar with this area, have no problem and make beautiful turns. Us, we decide to descend skier’s left of them, both avoiding their tracks and getting closer to some shrubs and trees, which afford us better visibility.
The snow is variable. One turn could be in 15 cm powder, the next could be on wind scoured hardening wetpack, and everything in between. Regardless, it was FUN! And, staying by the shrubs was a good call.
Back at the grove, we find excellent shelter. We also find little evidence of our having been there earlier; it has snowed so much. After a lunch break (chocolate and tea for me, onigiri and tea for Bill), we decide to head up again, this time keeping another layer on. There’s a shrine at the top; nothing much Bill says; but, we decide on that as our objective.
Heading up, our previous skin tracks are gone. We ascend past where we last turned around. We continue a ways and it starts getting even windier, visibility drops further. We come across Nate, who guided the group tour two days ago, with two clients. Where’d they come from? We didn’t see any tracks; they didn’t come from the other direction, since we encountered them at the same “trailhead”. The snow, what is falling and what is wind transported, has simply covered their tracks. They are transitioning. Looking up, it’s a continuation of some very shallow terrain as far as I can see, which isn’t far. Bill says it’s just a long climb up shallows; it’s not worth it for the skiing. I look down and visibility has become worse. Easy decision; we join Nate and his clients in transitioning
The video doesn’t tell it. Nate’s wind blown skins at the end of the video? Shortly after closing my camera, there are huge prolonged gusts that are strong enough to pin the skins horizontally
Bill and I transition quickly and are done before they are. (Amazing I can be quicker than others; I’m slow) We head down to just below the stunted evergreens and Bill asks me to wait. He’s going to drop in over the knoll, stop further below, and take some photos of me skiing down. I personally don’t see the point, as I’m not one that appreciates selfies, and these are rotten conditions to stand around in. But, I humor him and agree to a slow count to 20 after he disappears. As soon as he does, the wind howls and visibility drops to, for all practical purposes, zero. I can’t even see my skis; they’re instantly covered. A nearby shrub, my only point of reference, gone. I wish I had a photo or video of it. But, no way could I take my camera out. But, here, this is about what it was like,
If you have trouble seeing it, it’s much better in iPhone’s Smart Invert mode,
Settings>General>Accessibility>Display Accomodations>Invert Colors>Smart Invert on.
On an Android phone,
Settings>Accesibility>Color Inversion or Negative Colors
I head to where the shrub was, sorry. is, and succumb to vertigo. I collapse and hope I collapse in a way that will not cause injury. Now I see my skis. I get up. A break in the fog reveals the shrub. I inch over, and wait, and wait, debating what I should do. The decision is do nothing, stay in place. Nate and his clients come up to me from behind and he radios Bill, to let him know he’s with me. The fog has broken a bit more; I want to ski along a line of shrubs that is skier’s right of where Bill went. Over the radio, we all agree. Visibility gets even better, but not close to “moderately good”. It’s what one might call “Sufficient to at least Start” and Nate says Go! I go. Five, six, seven turns later, I make out the darker background that is Bill, make one more turn, then turn towards him. Nate and the two others are not far behind, skiing my line. Bill wonders, on account of avalanche risk mitigation, why they aren’t spacing themselves. Anyway, we move on. As we descend, winds die, visibility improves. When we enter Tsugaike Kogen Resort, it’s like a different world, no drifts, any powder is skied off, it feels crowded.
Never an uneventful day with Bill, and there’s more, at least for him, to discover. After coffee, we return to base and get ourselves sorted for the drive out of the valley. Bill will drop me off at a hotel in Nagano, then head up to Myoko. But, before that, one last dinner at Issei, and Bill’s first. He has the Duck Soba, which also has mushrooms. I have the mozzarella-like tofu salad and the salmon sashimi. Darn!
I always forget to take the photo of the salmon before digging in. Here, I have already disturbed the wasabi.
Bill loves it. He has been planning on taking a Japanese woman friend out for her birthday. It will be to Issei. Before leaving, the same foreign woman, whom I encountered at an earlier dinner, enters. I ask how many times she’s been here. 3rd time. Me, fourth. Gleeful laughter. We agree that the owners could have sold us a dining plan.
It’s been a great five days of skiing. As for my objectives, they are met, all except another attempt at Maeyama, in Myoko. But, the day with Bill above Tsugaike was just as satisfying; so much learned, such good skiing. My skiing still isn’t back to normal; I can’t “dance”. But, I can ski whatever. The Kore 93’s are nice, but I’ll look for something whose tails don’t wash out on groomers. That makes me think. My BMT’s didn’t wash out. Maybe I’ll try a narrower, shorter BMT. Or maybe one of the Blizzard Zero G’s.
The day ends at the hotel attached to Nagano Station. Back to work the next day. Fortuitously, the first meeting is, where else, in Nagano. The next meeting is in Tokyo. So easy and fast to travel large distances, to have meetings so far apart on the same day. Then, after yet another meeting the day after, I board a flight at Narita for the return home, looking forward to returning to Japan next year.
Epilogue:
Thinking about it later, I realize why Nate rode down with his clients close behind. He must have thought the danger of separation, on account of the fog, outweighed the avalanche risk. Bill agrees that is a reasonable decision.
