Surviving Tokyo

To appease the masses (or at least Uncle Steve), the blog returns. (Note to Uncle Steve: no computer for three days means no blog updates for at least three days.)

Back in Hakuba today after a long weekend between Tokyo and Kyoto, Tom and Brian and I hiked high above Happo One for our longest tour yet. Although we had beautiful, blue skies, we did not have good snow. I made a few nice powder turns, but they were unexpected in a run largely marred by wind buff, sun crust, old avalanche debris and other crud. But at least we closed the day with a soak in an onsen near the lodge.

So, with little to report from the slopes, the recap of a Tokyo all-nighter begins here. After taking a bus to Nagano on Thursday, we rode the Shinkansen (high speed rail) to Tokyo Station and then set off into a city intent on overwhelming our senses with an endless array of lights. We arrived in daylight, and once we found out how to actually leave Tokyo Station, we wandered the nearby streets for a bit before ducking into a mall, where we found an indoor market with meats, teas, pastries and more. 

First glimpse of Tokyo.

Then it was into the Tokyo Metro for more confusion and a ride to the area of Shibuya, where we emerged from the underground. Night had arrived at this point, and Tokyo was lit up: neon signs, flashing signs, big lights, little lights, tall narrow lights. Just an insane amount of lights.

It's so bright!

More confused wandering for us, until we retreated back into the metro to check out Shinjuku and eat dinner at a place called Lois, which Brian wanted to try. Yet we never found Lois — again, too many lights — and instead settled on a random restaurant. Post-dinner we returned to Shibuya and went to a bar for some sake, and quickly moved on to another bar; before we even entered, a Scandinavian named Eric met us at the door to make fun of my beard. Back inside, he befriended us and launched into a tirade about anti-Semitism spreading through Europe, and took a strong liking to Brian upon learning of his Jewish heritage. Yet Eric’s key contribution to the evening was introducing us to Yuki and her friend (Huki??).

 Brian makes a new friend in Eric, the agnostic wannabe Jew. 

Yuki became our tour guide for the rest of the evening and early morning. She led us to a third bar nearby, which was critical because at that point rain had begun to pour down on Tokyo (still lots of lights, however) and we had no interest in more confused wandering. 

Tom with Huki (?) and Yuki. 

By the time we left at 5 a.m., the rain had yet to let up, so Brian, Tom, Yuki and I hopped in a cab to Tsukiji Market, a fish market. With Yuki’s help translating, we eventually found our way to the tuna auction (becoming soaked in the process of dashing from warehouse to warehouse in the rain), followed by a 1.5-hour wait for breakfast of the best sushi any of us had ever had (despite being frigid in our drenched clothes.

 Tuna auction at Tsukiji Market.

 Sushi breakfast (along with miso soup and green tea).

After breakfast, we hailed a cab back to Tokyo Station, where our exhausting Tokyo experience ended as we boarded a Shinkansen for Kyoto. Kyoto brought a welcome slowing of the pace. Once again, however, it is past my Japanese bedtime, so this is all the blogging for today. Hopefully the update will keep Uncle Steve entertained until tomorrow. 

Visions of Japow

The idea came about, as so many wonderful ideas do, from an offhand comment. My brother Tom and I, hanging out on the beach last summer, were chatting about skiing (yes, we talk skiing during 80-degree weather in July) when he mentioned a video of skiing in Japan.

“I’ve thought it would be cool to spend a month skiing in Japan,” I said (and I have to give some credit to snowchasers.blogspot.com for some inspirational photos and travelogues).

And with that, both of us realized that our schedules in the coming winter could actually allow us to spend a month skiing in Japan: Tom would finish his undergraduate studies at the University of British Columbia in December; I planned to leave my job in the spring to spend a few months freelance writing before heading to grad school in the fall.

Of course, neither of us really expected to pursue the dream to fruition. It was just a whim that, theoretically, could work. Except that the idea had taken hold, and visions of bottomless Japanese powder had settled into our imaginations. We began researching ski spots in Japan, checking out photos and posts on TGR forums. Momentum built, and by the fall we had decided to make the trip a reality.

We decided on the resort of Happo One, located in the Japanese Alps in the town of Hakuba. The site of the ’98 Olympics apparently receives almost as much snow as Hokkaido, where it seems most Westerners go for their Japow, but offers bigger lines.

When we mentioned the idea to my friend Brian, he instantly committed to two weeks. Tom and I settled on dates (Feb. 12 – March 21) booked flights, then a place to stay (Hakuba Powder Lodging). Emails bounced between Tom and Brian and I, the chain growing each time one of us found a new video or photo of Hakuba or the Happo backcountry.

But in the ensuing months, Japan planning intertwined with real life. The initial excitement succumbed to the tedious tasks of sending out grad school applications and wrapping up my job. The once fantastical idea of a ski trip to Japan, now a reality, grew distant.

And then, a few days ago, I flipped my calendar to February and saw the note I’d scrawled onto Feb. 12: “Leave for Japan” The reality of the trip reappeared, surprising me by being so imminent.

And now, in less than five days, I fly to Japan.