POWDER PILGRIMAGE
PHOTO Takahiro Nakanishi Escape the crowds: Rusutsu is just 25 minutes’ drive south-east of the busy resort of Niseko
Much-loved ports of call on the Ski Club’s legendary Japan Powder Pilgrimage trip, Rusutsu, Kiroro and Asahikawa, are simply magical, says Colin Nicholson
As the sun set on Mount Yotei my ears picked up a rhythmic beat. Drummers were pummelling out their ritual homage to a 1,898m mountain that is a lookalike of sacred Mount Fuji itself. This is where the Ski Club comes on its Japan Powder Pilgrimage trip, and I’d spent the day entranced – skiing between beautiful birches on
soft snow under clear blue skies.
The trip starts here at Niseko on Japan’s northern Hokkaido Island, where advanced skiers can circle the steep slopes leading to the crater, before swooping down into any of the four sectors around the mountain. This meant I could avoid crowded slopes, as more travellers each year make it their resort of choice.
Niseko has been transformed since I visited a decade ago, with only Sunday afternoon’s free show in town, performed by six energetic Taiko drummers, unchanged. Today, blocks are popping up all over the mountain to cope with the influx of visitors, mainly from other
Asian countries.
Most are first-time snowboarders, many filming themselves with selfie sticks. Gone are the acres of pristine powder of a decade ago – the resort still gets an average of 14 metres of snow every winter, yet it’s tracked out by 11am. Which is why the Ski Club drives to nearby resorts. Japan is a surprisingly big place, and there are 596 ski resorts of all shapes and sizes across the country, most of which are typically overlooked by international tourists.
I hadn’t been able to make the Japan Powder Pilgrimage trip, but really liked the itinerary. So, armed with bus timetables and some basic Japanese, I tried to reach the club’s second port of call – the resort of Rusutsu, 25 minutes’ drive south-east.
“Yes, the bus stops at Rusutsu,” the friendly staff at the bus station told me. “But you can’t take it. It’s to take people to Sapporo airport.”
“That’s fine,” I conceded. “I’ll simply pay the ¥4,000 (£28) fare to the airport and get off at Rusutsu.” A brief discussion in Japanese followed. “Sorry, no. It’s against the rules,” came the reply.
Japan is a rules-based society, so negotiation was futile – the staff simply wished me luck. Happily, I was able to hitch a lift on a hotel shuttle to the nearby town of Kutchan, where two elderly locals got me on a local bus to Rusutsu.
When I stepped off, I found myself rubbing my eyes. I had arrived at the huge (I was given a map so I could find the reception) Rusutsu Resort Hotel, one of only two in the resort, inside which was a three-storey recreation of a Bavarian village surrounding a full-size carousel. Oh, and did I mention the waltzing fountains and singing tree?
Steeps and deeps against bright blue skies… what could be better?
ALL THE FUN OF THE FAIR
I really liked the hotel, not least because of the many excellent restaurants – French, Italian, German, Chinese and Japanese, where I ordered abalone, a sea snail, which I realised to my horror was still alive half way through cooking it on my table.
Nor is the ski area any less remarkable. It is spread over three mountains: West Mountain, East Mountain and Mount Isola, with 37 runs served by 18 lifts. The next morning I took the monorail to West Mountain, where I skied through a funfair, complete with a giant ferris wheel. The resort is a theme park in the summer, while in winter pro skiers get shots jumping off the rides.
My guide was Peter Marsh, a former Ski Club Leader who works here as a ski instructor in winter, and teaches diving in Japan’s southern isles each summer. He showed me untracked powder by the East Tignes chair, under the Isola lift, and in the Steamboat gully, until we reached Heavenly ridge. Here we had views not just of Yotei, but beyond the landscape of snow-covered trees, to Lake Toya and the Pacific Ocean.
If you’re wondering about the names, these are the resorts Rusutsu owned or invested in, before going bust in the crash of the early ’90s, from which Japan never recovered. Even today most of the country’s infrastructure dates from that period, though it’s immaculately maintained. This being Japan, all the public toilets have heated seats, and there is even wi-fi in the buses.
I had hoped to ski another day in Rusutsu, but to make it to the Ski Club’s next resort I had to beg a lift off the hotel manager back to Niseko, where I was able to catch a (legitimate) bus to Kiroro, an hour’s drive north-east.
Like many Japanese resorts, Kiroro, which has eight lifts and 21 runs, was at first baffled by Westerners’ desire to ski off-piste. After all, skiing on-piste is so much more convenient. It was even banned in certain resorts. Only five years ago did some resorts embrace it, and nowhere more so than Kiroro. The piste map shows 14 off-piste zones, plus a ‘Powder Ride’ section that isn’t cordoned off, in which I found patches of fresh powder, although unusually it hadn’t snowed in weeks.
Skiing on my own, I resolved to tick off the gated (patrolled) off-piste zones one by one, with the lift attendants greeting me cheerily between runs. I put in some elegant adrenaline-fuelled descents through the trees in some… and in others negotiated my way through the steep forest on my bottom.
In the biggest zone, Seesaw, I did wonder what I’d let myself in for as I got ever further from the pistes. “Go back, go back,” squawked a crow. And in the powder I could make out the tracks of raccoons and hares better than the old ski tracks I was following.
Somehow I found my way back to the base, reassuring myself it was only possible to get lost if you explore the huge out-of-bounds area of Kiroro (or Rusutsu or Niseko). I wasn’t going to risk that without a Ski Club guide, but I was going to follow the itinerary to somewhere wilder still.
AT THE MERCY OF NATURE
Asahikawa, in the centre of Hokkaido, two-and-a-half hours’ drive north from Kiroro, styles itself as a ski city, in that it serves as a hub for surrounding resorts, many of which don’t have accommodation. While it doesn’t offer the ski-in, ski-out convenience of the resorts I’d just visited, you can stay cheaply in a ryokan – a traditional inn with sliding paper doors. And in tiny restaurants, often seating just two dozen people, most positioned around the chef puffing away on cigarettes, you can get all-you-can-eat-and-drink for ¥1,500 to ¥2,500 (£10-17).
There are shuttle buses to a number of resorts, the biggest of which is Kamui, with 25 runs and six lifts.
It was here, skiing off-piste, that I spotted a foot-wide fissure in the snow splitting the mountain. Fear seized me. What about avalanches? In fact the risk is limited in Japan, as the base is so solid. When I peered down at the ground I could see a mat of bamboo under my feet (when the snow falls it gets so heavy that it flattens the bamboo to the ground like a mat). For real fissures I had to head to the active volcano of Asahidake, the highest peak in Hokkaido at 2,291m.
To reach it I boarded a minibus for the hour-long journey south-east, past snow-covered paddy fields where you can go dog-sledding or horse riding; then the road climbed to the cable car station, where signs reminded us we were at the mercy of nature. The mountain last erupted in 1739 and I realised there was no bell to ring for luck (the Japanese are superstitious and many resorts have a bell, said to bring good fortune to those who strike it).
Not having a ski guide, I settled on short skis with permanent skins to climb a short distance up the mountain from the top of the cable car. At first I didn’t notice a cloud coming from a hole in the ground, until I heard the steam screaming out at 200°C from holes in the yellow-encrusted rock just metres away, enveloping me in sulphurous scents.
That was magical enough without reaching the summit, which I wouldn’t have risked alone, given the mountain is unpatrolled. So I turned back. And, on tiny, wobbly skis, I decided to eschew the two challenging- looking tracks that lead back down to the base station, and instead watched the freeriders and tourers descend below me from the comfort of the cable car.
I ended my Japanese pilgrimage, as on so many days, with a ritual purification in an onsen, immersing myself in the spring water of these public baths. Was I purified? Yes, but not of my addiction to Japan. I was already mulling the Ski Club’s other two Japanese trips: one to Shiretoko, the other to Japan’s main island, where you see snow monkeys relaxing in hot springs – just as I was.
FACTFILE
The Ski Club offers its Japan Powder Pilgrimage trip from £3,649 per person, based on two sharing, including eight nights’ half board, eight days’ guiding, lift passes and local transfers, but not flights. Colin flew with Japan Airlines (uk.jal.co.jp), which flies from Heathrow to Sapporo and Asahikawa from £852 return, with a stopover of up to 24 hours in Tokyo permitted free of charge. Colin stayed courtesy of Niseko, Rusutsu, Kiroro and Asahikawa.
A LOCAL’S GUIDE TO RUSUTSU
Rusutsu ski instructor and former Ski Club Leader Peter Marsh takes us on a tour of his home turf:
My favourite run on a powder day...The run underneath the Isola 5 chairlift, because it leads to nice drop-offs through the trees. The lift often runs for just 10 days in November before the bottom station is buried in snow. Just don’t bang your head on the chairs as you ski under them.
Visitors needn’t worry about avalanches...Inside the resort boundary the avalanche risk is generally low, with no tree wells to avoid, as most trees are deciduous. Just watch out for lower branches buried under the snow, which could catch your skis. And there’s only one small part of Steamboat gully where you have to watch out for cliffs.
Heading beyond the resort...If you’ve got a guide and touring gear, head outside the resort boundaries.
There are four nice chutes and an open face from the top of the Tiger chair on Mount Shirabetsu, but there’s a monster cornice, so stay close to the trees. And there’s lots of intrigue in the gullies of East Mountain.
For lunch on the hill...As in most Japanese resorts there’s no fine dining on the piste, but you can get a big bowl of ramen – pork and noodles in a soup-like mix – for just ¥1,000 (£7).
For an après-ski drink...For après, there are quirky little spots a few minutes’ walk from the Rusutsu Resort Hotel. I like Rodeo’s happy hour from 4pm to 6pm, as you pay just ¥300 (£2) for a pint of beer, glass of wine or cocktail-type drink. If you’re cold, Pirate Man does hot toddies, as does Captain.
Where to bed down...If you're looking for cheap places to stay there are plenty, and most will drive you to the resort and back. Or you can ski along the pavement, which seems to amuse local drivers. Here’s a useful website