Nuclear Skiing Off The Beaten Path In Japan.
Exploring the Urabandai region, an overlooked and uncrowded corner of Japan.
Words Rich Birkby | Images Brendan Reeves
This summer it seemed as though every skier I knew was going to Japan. My envy was aroused in late spring as friends and acquaintances started talking about heading northwards, and it amplified in the new year as their photographs seemed to multiply across my social feeds.
After a less than stellar winter in the Southern Lakes, my ability to parse my sinning was being sorely stretched. I tried but struggled to feel happy for my friends as they departed for the land of the rising sun. In one case, I even loaned my favourite powder skis to someone, perhaps this performative act was a demonstration of my own piety to myself. But perhaps it paid off…
When the phone call came, I was more than a little surprised to be asked “Do you want to come skiing with us in Japan?” There is of course, only one answer to that particular question. Having a crew to travel with broke my “stay home for summer” inertia and I quickly blurted out a yes, followed by a garbled “Where are we going? Niskeo? Hakuba?”
“Fukushima.” Came the response.
Oh!
“This is going to be the real Japan” he insisted. “No queues, no scrambling to get fresh tracks and no Aussies.”
John Doe
The only thing I knew about Fukushima was that a nuclear power station had melted down in the region following the devastating earthquake and tsunami which struck Japan in 2011.
“Are there ski areas in Fukushima?” I asked, somewhat hesitantly.
“Many.” Came my friend’s response. “26 in fact.”
It’s true. The Fukushima prefecture may not be a familiar destination for antipodean skiers, but it is home to a number of resorts and stretches from the pacific coast of North East Honshu right into the central spine of mountains which run the length of Japan’s largest and most populous island.
When you’re committing to travelling to the other side of the world to ski, it’s hard not to choose a spot you know is going to deliver the goods. Taking a chance on somewhere new is a risk. But my friend was adamant. “This is going to be the real Japan” he insisted. “No queues, no scrambling to get fresh tracks and no Aussies.”
“But I am an Australian” I protested.
“OK. Well there’ll be you. And maybe one other. Are you coming or not?”
With the gauntlet down, there was no other choice. Fukushima it would be.
“A very comfortable hideaway right in the heart of bustling Shibuya with a delicious Izakaya hidden deep in its basement.”
John Doe
The iconic Shibuya crossing is not the ideal place to be pulling a double ski bag laden with gear. But a little time in central Tokyo is a great way to break up a trip to Japan, see some sights and do a little shopping. Our group had arranged to meet at a cool little hotel just a couple of hundred metres from the crossing. The EN HOTEL Shibuya is a discrete and very comfortable hideaway right in the heart of bustling Shibuya with a delicious Izakaya hidden deep in its basement – a great place to catch up, the boisterous crowd of regulars setting the scene for a great evening in what has to be one of the best cities on earth.
The next morning, we crossed town to Tokyo Central station to board the bullet train northward. High speed rail is one of the finest ways to travel. The Shinkansen combines a pleasant sense of calm that belies its breath-taking speed.
The town of Koriyama is just an hour from central Tokyo by Shinkansen train and nine of Fukushima’s resorts are located in the Mt Bandai area on the northern shores of nearby Lake Inawahsiro. It was a short journey by road from the station to our accommodation at EN RESORT Grandeco.
Grandeco is an unassuming little gem situated in the Urabandai (the north side of Mt Bandai) region. It’s relatively high altitude (for the region) ensures it’s renowned for cold, dry snow while its location makes a great base for exploring the region. The resort’s hotel, which sits just above the base area gondola enables guests to ski in and out and provided us with an extremely comfortable stay. Two restaurants, an excellent onsen, wellness centre (with free “spine-melter 2000” massage chairs), a pool and a Finnish-style barrel sauna would ensure we lacked no comfort during our stay.
There’s nothing quite like the muted hush that comes with heavy snowfalls. You can feel it as soon as you wake. It’s almost like switching on a pair of noise cancelling headphones. A peer through the curtain revealed boot-deep new snow on the balcony with the certainty of more at higher elevations.
There’s nothing quite like the muted hush that comes with heavy snowfalls. It’s almost like switching on a pair of noise cancelling headphones.
John Doe
Acquainted with the hurried rush to score fresh tracks in NZ, North America or the more popular Japanese spots, I could feel my anxiety rising slightly. After a quick breakfast, we were poling furiously toward the resort’s gondola, where we found… no one at all. Other than a lifty who, with a friendly wave, helped us load our gear.
We spent the whole day exploring the resort, first tracking out the steeper marked runs where knee-deep snow sat atop the previous evening’s grooming, before ducking into the trees for more. For the most part, our crew were the only group partaking in the fruits of the storm, the majority of Grandeco’s users preferring to stick to the marked runs. After a couple of laps, I was in a completely different head-space from a powder day at home. No strategising. No stress. No queues. No elbows at the rope drop. Just blissful turns through classic Japanese powder snow. Sure, most of the terrain here is low angle, but we made seemingly endless laps in fantasy snow, aided by Grandeco’s combination of fast, covered quad chairs and the gondola.
After a mountain lunch that beat just about every mountain meal I’ve eaten outside of Italy, we found an abandoned chairlift line with the perfect gradient, completely untouched. Can you imagine such a thing existing at 1pm at a commercial kiwi ski area? We bounced down the clearcut, airing off rollers and grinning through multiple white-room turns. This short but oh so sweet shot was so good, that a few minutes later we were back at the top for another go, courtesy of the comfy covered chairlift that delivered us to a sign which read “Road to Powder”. How could you not follow that? It was the only time we crossed our tracks the whole day.
That same afternoon, we encountered a group of 4 young French people, also exploring the region. The only non-Japanese skiers we encountered in the Urubandai region through our entire trip.
“No queues. No elbows at the rope drop. Just blissful turns through classic Japanese powder snow.”
John Doe
The next morning, we awake to more new snow, but the storm has abated and visibility is good, despite the grey skies. We toured above the resort’s lifts to the summit of a neighbouring peak accompanied by one of the Grandeco’s guiding team. As we climbed, the trees became widely spaced and so heavily loaded with snow and rime they became virtually unrecognisable “Snow Monsters”. At the summit, we encountered an enthusiastic group of tourers from the local alpine club, but with dropping temperatures and a rising breeze, there was little time for chat.
Following a quick transition to downhill mode we rolled into a steep, North facing bowl that delivered the best turns I’ve made in a couple of seasons. The real Japan that my friend had promised me was right here. Our descent continued through glades and into tighter trees, before we dropped back into the ski area right at the top of yesterday’s clearcut.
That evening I basked in the onsen’s outdoor pool, watching fat flakes of snow fall onto steaming water, before being treated to a tasting menu style “Kaiseke” dinner in the hotel restaurant. Made artfully from local ingredients, every course proved exquisite and came matched with a local sake.
Such easy access to so much untracked snow meant we packed a lot of runs into a short space of time and for the first time in years I felt able to take time away from the hill. Most ski areas don’t offer much to do on down-days, but the Urubandai region definitely didn’t disappoint on the cultural front.
In nearby Aizuwakamatsu, the restored Tsuruga castle’s history extends back to the late 14th century stretching through the Tokagowa Shogunate to the wars of the Meiji restoration. Its stone battlements and seven storey keep are like a backdrop from the “Demonslayer” anime.
At the Yamatogowa Sake Brewery in Kitakata, Sato, the head brewer and scion of a family who have made sake on this site for almost 300 years took us through the process, of refining rice and brewing sake made from carefully cultivated, locally produced rice and the clear waters of Urubandai mountain streams. Which we followed up with a thorough tasting at the cellar door.
In Chiyoda, we visit a local winery, where wines are crafted in a regional style. Here vinophiles can taste a couple of unique styles including a Muscat Bailey and an interesting skin-contact Chardonnay.
Grandeco’s terrain kept us well entertained for a several days. But the tantalising glimpses of clearcut runs almost everywhere we went in the region had us keen to venture further. With nine resorts within a 45 minute drive of our Grandeco base, we set out to explore.
On Mt Bandai’s southern flank at Inawashiro Ski Paradise, we found classic Vermont style clearcut runs, and well-spaced trees. This spot is well worth as visit, because if you join the Ina Ski! Fan Club (sign up with your email address) you’ll get a free lift ticket on any weekday and a half-price ticket at weekends! You don’t find that too often in Queenstown or Wanaka do you?
Down the road at Nekoma South, modern lifts and a ski-in/out resort access some great terrain with stunning views over Lake Inawashiro. The south-facing aspect of these resorts meant that the late-season snowfall transformed quickly in the March sunshine but we enjoyed beautiful spring conditions and skied straight onto every lift we rode. Once again, no queues and no gaijin.
Nekoma South is connected via lift to Nekoma North, formerly known as Alts Bandai. Crossing the ridge, into this steeper, Northerly facing resort was like stepping back in time. Ancient lifts, some that appeared to be abandoned, carried us to more fun terrain. On what once must have been groomed runs were now left untracked under unused lift infrastructure. Here we enjoyed one of the best katsu bowls I’ve ever eaten. In a neon strip light-lit cafeteria, with peeling paint and stained glass windows before we meandered back through the trees to the base area on the southern side of the hill.
“The best katsu bowls I’ve ever eaten. In a neon strip light-lit cafeteria, with peeling paint and stained glass windows.”
John Doe
Our short trip to the Urabandai region left so much more to discover, but my friend had been right, we’d encountered some of the real Japan. These resorts may not be the largest, the steepest or the deepest; but there were no crowds, the snow was excellent and the terrain was entertaining. It was a delightful soft adventure, where our toughest moments involved using translation apps to help communicate with the locals. A place where some of the best moments unexpectedly occurred off the mountain, in a warm and enlightening cultural immersion.
There are more than 500 ski areas scattered across the Japanese archipelago and yet most antipodean skiers crowd themselves into less than 10 of the better-known resorts. Those archetypal spots undoubtedly offer incredible snow and great skiing, but now I’ve seen a little of what’s out there, I’m looking further afield. There are more of these little gems to explore and I’m inspired to find more.
