I was about to write my customary apology for getting this end-of-season wrap up out a bit late. But then I realised it’s still March. The spring skiing is great in Hokkaido. I only left a week ago.
But a lot has changed in the last few weeks.
It seems a bit strange to write an end-of-season wrap up now. Skiing is a strange thing to be thinking about in the face of a global pandemic. But as I lay on the couch mid-quarantine in the Blue Mountains west of Sydney (all international travellers are required to self-quarantine for two weeks upon returning to Australia. We got to choose where we’d hang out. Now the army escorts you to a hotel) I recalled a conversation with a new guest, Magnus, back in February. He’d had a bit of a logistical debacle getting to Hokkaido and as we shuttled around collecting replacement gear he said something like:
“This is still worth it. If we get a few great powder turns, those moments stay with us for the whole year.”
So then I thought maybe I should write about skiing. Because I certainly don’t have anything worthwhile to say about COVID-19, and if you’re going to peer into your memory box from time to time this year and smile about some powder turns they’ve got a big job ahead of them.
Japan 2020: What just happened?
When I arrived in Hokkaido the big story wasn’t social distancing and flattening curves, it was low snow conditions. Hokkaido was thin, it was warm, it was no good. At least that’s what everyone was saying.
The worst season in 100 years
The locals in Sounkyo actually said so! But a bad winter in Hokkaido is still pretty good. Sure, the ski areas were grim. Erik and Claes made me go to Teine for a day, and that was sobering. But the backcountry delivered consistently good turns, including a handful of truly few epic lines. The real difference was the extra effort required to find good, safe riding compared to a normal winter. Typically you can roll out of bed and find a deep snow, but this year you had to think hard about weather and break trail on a few solid approaches.
It
That
Wasn’t
Bad
On the whole, keeping seven tabs of weather information open on my phone and checking the weather stations every waking hour paid off pretty well. I think we sent just about everyone home with memories of good lines in good snow. Low, sheltered and north facing terrain paid off big time. A bigger face I skied with a local friend at the end of the 2019 winter had just the right elevation and aspect to become a regular go-to for the winter. The one notable exception was a warming event in mid-February that smashed basically all of Honshu and Hokkaido. Despite moving Owen and Evelyn’s trip to avoid the worst of it we still got stuck with an unhealthy amount of dust-on-crust. I like to think I’m pretty good at sleuthing out good skiing, but in the end we’re all at the mercy of the weather.
Kurodake was generally in a foul mood. I summited early in the season with Kriss, Murray and Tony but was turned away by windslab below the summit for most of February. The main chute still turned on a bunch of good skiing lower down (and apparently the locals have started calling it “John’s Chute”, which is very flattering). As usual, she was in a better mood from late Feb and I had two great days up there with Iona and Marcus (although in a testament to their exacting standards, we never actually skied the peak…).
Where to next
The conditions pushed us into exploring new areas and guiding new terrain. It was great to ski some new stuff in northern central Hokkaido with Kriss’s crew and Lincoln’s crew, get back into the Eastern Daistetsuzans, and guide one of the Hand Chutes at Kurodake with Iona and Marcus. We got to dial in some storm-proof north facing terrain with Magnus and Rune. And once Coronavirus got going and the bookings disappeared I got a bunch of good days dialing in new lines in the Kamikawa and Sounkyo regions.
Coming soon to a Powder Project trip near you.
It was extremely clear this winter that we need another guide. It’s looking like we’ve got secure housing for next year so hopefully we can bring someone on. Just need that whole “global pandemic” thing to settle down. Minor issue. I could certainly use a few more rest days.
The most important ingredient
At the end of a winter I usually feel a few things. Tired. Mostly I feel tired. But I also feel a huge sense of gratitude. It’s the people who come over and ski with us (me) that make this possible.
Well, I mean, that’s not entirely true. If you weren’t around I’d be doing much the same thing. But I’d doing it on my own, living in a van eating cup ramen and I’d be so, so cold. So maybe “possible” isn’t the right word. But you do make it special. Memorable.
It is a huge privilege and joy to be able to share these places with you all. It’s awesome to stand at the bottom of a run and see people smash their way through deep snow with huge grins on their faces. Somehow, through the magic of terrible marketing we’ve managed to end up in a hidden corner of the internet that only fun people who genuinely love backcountry riding manage to find. So thanks! Thanks for being fun, thanks for coming skiing/boarding, thanks for your patience with slow email replies and my slightly obsessive skin track setting and my aversion to other peoples’ tracks. I hope you had as much fun as I did. Also it is indescribably wonderful to live in a house, and I’m very grateful to you all for supporting that.
This is a really crazy time. It seems like 2020 might be a year where a few good memories could really come in handy. I hope your time with us has given you a few quality moments. We’re lucky enough to ski with great people from all over the world, many of whom are medical professionals. Good luck to everyone on the front lines, and good luck to everyone working regular jobs and trying to keep themselves and their families safe and happy and healthy. When this is all over we’ll still be out there in the mountains delivering rad times in relative safety. We really hope to see you all there again soon.