There is a capitalistic, modern-day obsession with size. Big resorts with towering peaks steal the spotlight. Old-fashioned lifts are retired, and modern-day infrastructure is praised. Everyone wants more trails, higher vertical, and faster lifts. All this transformation comes with a price. It’s not just expensive lift tickets and overpriced burgers; it’s the loss of individuality, character, and nostalgia.
I love a great day at Palisades, Breck, or even my increasingly busy home hill of Sunday River. But sometimes I long for the days of slower lifts, less crowded trails, and more soulful vibes. My desire to slow down and embrace skiing at its core led me to Tohoku.
Tohoku is a region located on the northernmost part of Honshu, the main island of Japan. Even though it’s known for its rugged mountains, rolling countryside, and natural hot springs; it’s the extra snowy winters, lack of crowds, and authentic Japanese culture that piqued my interest. Capitalizing on the abundant snowfall, ski areas freckle the mountainsides. From resorts that have entered the international scene like Zao Onsen and Geto Kogen, to the many… many local hills beloved by their small communities.
Tohoku’s ski areas reek of nostalgic charm. Most lifts are slow and installed in a bygone era. Fixed grip doubles access the best terrain and old gondolas with cages just big enough for 90’s-style straight skis whisk you up mountains. No modern distractions, no egos, just everyone enjoying the japow.
Aomori City, perched on the northern point of the main island, is regularly called “the snowiest city in the world”. At the Aomori airport, tiny, stubby nosed kei trucks look like Hot Wheel toys next to the gigantic snow blowers used to clear the runways. Even the luggage trains have snowplows attached to the front. Immediately upon landing it’s clear this place gets a lot of snow. Despite having “the best snow in the world” there’s no powder panic, no frenzy, and no urge to ditch your crew. This might be my favorite aspect of skiing in Japan.
If your ideal ski destination involves lavish hotels, slope-side condos, 5-star restaurants, and multiple options for club-thumping après; Tohoku is not your ticket to happiness. Luxury takes on a different persona in this part of the world. It takes form in the charm of the resorts, the incredible hospitality, and powder that lingers for days after storms. It’s the luxury of not paying hundreds of dollars for a single day of skiing. It’s a different kind of après, soaking in a natural onsen and relaxing after a full day on the slopes.
Tohoku is a place that can make you slightly uncomfortable. At times I certainly felt like an outsider. The best way to overcome this feeling is to embrace it and become familiar with being unfamiliar. Learn to drive on the left side of the road, eat with chopsticks, bow to people instead of shaking hands, and experience Japan’s world-class toilets. With an open heart and a humble mind (and your favorite translation app) you’ll be amazed by the reward you’ll find. I came for the snow and left with a deeper sense of feeling connected to this world.
Powder stashes are coveted resources by skiers and snowboarders alike. When a place steals your heart that has seemingly been kept secret from most of the world, it’s easy to want to follow suit, and keep the location hidden from the masses. While, at the same time, you want to scream from the mountain tops and tell all your friends how awesome it is. There’s a thin line to walk between keeping these areas a secret and feeling guilty while wondering which ski areas won’t open next winter due to the lack of visitors. I write this with hopes to encourage someone to ask questions, do research, book a plane ticket, and enjoy your own personal journey to an incredible place in this world. And if your personal journey takes you to Tohoku, make sure you see the snow monsters.
Tohoku’s ski areas reek of nostalgic charm. Most lifts are slow and installed in a bygone era. Fixed grip doubles access the best terrain and old gondolas with cages just big enough for 90’s-style straight skis whisk you up mountains. No modern distractions, no egos, just everyone enjoying the japow.
Aomori City, perched on the northern point of the main island, is regularly called “the snowiest city in the world”. At the Aomori airport, tiny, stubby nosed kei trucks look like Hot Wheel toys next to the gigantic snow blowers used to clear the runways. Even the luggage trains have snowplows attached to the front. Immediately upon landing it’s clear this place gets a lot of snow. Despite having “the best snow in the world” there’s no powder panic, no frenzy, and no urge to ditch your crew. This might be my favorite aspect of skiing in Japan.
Tohoku is a place that can make you slightly uncomfortable. At times I certainly felt like an outsider. The best way to overcome this feeling is to embrace it and become familiar with being unfamiliar. Learn to drive on the left side of the road, eat with chopsticks, bow to people instead of shaking hands, and experience Japan’s world-class toilets. With an open heart and a humble mind (and your favorite translation app) you’ll be amazed by the reward you’ll find. I came for the snow and left with a deeper sense of feeling connected to this world.
Powder stashes are coveted resources by skiers and snowboarders alike. When a place steals your heart that has seemingly been kept secret from most of the world, it’s easy to want to follow suit, and keep the location hidden from the masses. While, at the same time, you want to scream from the mountain tops and tell all your friends how awesome it is. There’s a thin line to walk between keeping these areas a secret and feeling guilty while wondering which ski areas won’t open next winter due to the lack of visitors. I write this with hopes to encourage someone to ask questions, do research, book a plane ticket, and enjoy your own personal journey to an incredible place in this world. And if your personal journey takes you to Tohoku, make sure you see the snow monsters.