Let's get Ice Cream July 04 2017 62 Comments
author: Brandi Bartha
Follow her on IG: @billycatx
The balcony of our apartment is too small to fully stretch out and enjoy the blaze from the Spanish sun in a conventional sense; however, I have discovered that threading my legs through the railing bars allows me to dangle them over the ledge, creating a surprisingly comfortable lounge. With how high up our apartment is, I can't help but sometimes feel as if I'm perched at the top of a roller coaster. In this spot I often find myself staring up at the Church of Santo Domingo towering nearby, thinking of almost everything that can run through one's mind. How is my family back home doing? What am I going to get up to today? What were the right decisions I've made to fortunately end up here? What are the wrong decisions I'll make that keep me day-dreaming? How am I going to fund my next adventure? When can I finally get a dog? Where do I feel like going for tinto de veranos and tapas tonight??
Today I'm thinking of what exactly brought me to Granada in Spain. At the root of my desire to travel, I think back to the memories I have as a young kid, as my mother, sister, and I would dance around our dark house at night before getting ready for bed. Our mother would stop us and say, "let's go somewhere". That somewhere usually being anywhere we could still get ice cream.
As a kid, I would appreciate these moments for obvious reasons, but as I got older those reasons began to change (only slightly. I still get excessively excited for ice cream). I understand now why I grew up too wired to sleep at night, but mostly I have learned to appreciate the nostalgia behind my mother's spontaneity to just 'go'. So when I decided I wanted to learn spanish, and that there were mountains nearby, that was good enough for me.
After issues with obtaining a work visa, I had a later departure date than expected. Hoping to take advantage of what might be left of the winter season, I was still apprehensive in my decision to pack up my board bag with all my gear, considering I would be arriving in March. I had no clue what to expect of the mountains and snow conditions in southern Spain, a region popular for its beaches and Mediterranean climate, but I decided to hope for the best and hauled my gear over the pond anyways. I learned that this would be one of those times where I could rejoice in one of my better decisions.
The walk to the bus that would take us to the mountains for our first tour had me second guessing myself at first, considering I was in snowpants with a board strapped to my back while everyone around me was dressed for summer. But once we were at the mountains - and had hiked for 3 hours - we found.... SNOW! Not anything comparable to the conditions found back home in Canada, but it was still rideable snow. And not only was there snow, but the size of the mountains themselves were bigger than I had anticipated. Expecting to find what we would call 'hills' back home, I was decently pleased to find that our first tour would be up to the peak of Mulhacen, an elevation of almost 3500 m. The runs weren't top to bottom, but they were still worth the hike up.
And so we managed to get in a few tours up until about mid-may. Our skis and board now patiently sit in the living room as a reminder of the winter season coming up in about 5-ish months, so lately we find ourselves having to walk back down these mountains after hiking up.
With the time spent in these mountains, my love for them, and for all mountains in general, was never as blatantly apparent to me, until living in the city. A season spent in Revelstoke initially opened my eyes to a new lifestyle and world that I was curious about, but it's the contrast between concrete and soil that really made me feel. Heading out to Sierra Nevada on my days off for ski touring or hiking, I immediately feel a sense of peace as I stand on the wild soil, and breathe in the chilled - chilled, being relative for an inferno like Spain - air. A feeling contrary to the emotions that I find city life provokes.
I feel that John Muir was pretty spot on when he wrote, " Thousands of tired, nerve-shaken, over-civilized people are beginning to find out that going to the mountains is going home; that wildness is a necessity; and that mountain parks and reservations are useful not only as fountains of timber and irrigating rivers, but as fountains of life". Maybe it's that extra surge of oxygen, or the lack of noise pollution, or being able to walk for miles without running into someone who is walking too slow in front of you, that rejuvenates the mind. Or maybe it's the thought of how fragile the natural world is under human influence, yet how powerful the force of mother nature ultimately is. It's where emotions are most raw, where nothing is impressed by your Ph.D, job, or money. Where you have to respect and cooperate with the environment to come out in the end.
This ever-growing love has really stoked the fire in my heart and given me a more direct purpose, to not only travel and see the world, but to really get in there and feel the roots. To find comfort in uncomfortable environments. To seek the adrenaline that bubbles the blood. To get in the dirt of these landscapes that watch the city from afar (or maybe it's the cities that watch them?) To leave that dark house that is getting ready for sleep and go.
Only these days, it's to go for more than just ice cream.
Backcountry Powder, Hokkaido, Japan- Yeti Style February 26 2015 22 Comments
author: Jeff Clapp (Gifu, Japan)
Things started off all wrong, so very very wrong. Flurries in Sendai, Japan the night before I blasted off to Hokkaido for my annual powder fix, along with forecasts of solid snow EVERYDAY for the next week, seemed like the perfect beginning to a trip of endless powder. Not just any snow folks! It's some of the lightest fluffiest wafer thin powder ON THE PLANET.
Our 'gaijin' (foreigner) crew from Gifu City Japan used to hit the Nagano ski areas, such as Hakuba/Goryu and the '98 Olympic famed Happo One (oh-nay), almost every weekend during the season. From Gifu, smack dab in the centre of Japan, it's only 4hrs drive away for awesome off piste trees and backcountry hiking but 'Jimmy quit. Joey got married' you know, things change. But do they?
When I first moved to Japan I had just switched (upgraded? heh heh) from skiing to snowboarding 4 years prior, and despite the totally crap conditions in Southern Ontario (crap snow if there even is any, exorbitant prices and matching line-ups, topped with 'hills' you can toboggan down - cafeteria trays work great...ah yes, but that's another story...) I was still completely hooked on riding, so much so that a large influence on where I would locate in Japan was based on the proximity to good snowboarding areas.
Now, over 13 years later,' band break-up' and all, you could say that not only do some things never change, but after experiencing the snow in Japan, my snowboarding craving has intensified. Nagano has taken a back seat and the last remaining active members of our group, Simpson and I, have made it a point to do a yearly massive 2 week powder plunge off the deep end, Hokkaido.
I will state here that just prior to the 2013-14 season, my awesome daughter Sky was born. So given the craziness at our place getting used to our future shredder, I had to settle for one Nagano weekender and a few day trips in Gifu. But the smoke has cleared, and with my lovely wife and daughter securely stationed at Grandma's place in Sendai for a much welcomed extended visit, I was free once again, to go hunting in Hokkaido.
Our 1st stop and usually the only stop, is Niseko. Hirafu to be exact. My first time there was back in Mar 2002, just 6 months after arriving in Gifu. Back then Hirafu was still quaint and I was still renting equipment.
My plan was to ride deep pow for the first time in Hokkaido but that was foiled by a massive dump in Gifu in Jan 2002 which saw me and friends thigh high in on piste fluff and almost completely alone on the slopes due to the white-out conditions. What a day!!
It was in Hirafu, where I first learned of the K2 'Clicker' binding system which I still ride today. I even found a pair of MSR/Clicker snowshoes on eBay for like 70 bucks, oh yeah! Yes my board and bindings are over 12 years old! These days, surprisingly in spite of an explosion of development in the past few years, much of Hirafu's quaintness remains, rooted in the family run pensions, bars and restaurants. But you'd better make plans to visit soon as Hirafu is on the brink of annihilation by an onslaught of development fueled by the hordes of tourists all looking for one thing, SNOW.
And where IS the F#$**#NG snow!? That's what we got stuck asking ourselves this trip as the forecast in our corner of Hokkaido dried up just as we arrived on Jan 29th and the rest of the country got pounded. Reasonable (not epic) accumulation came an agonizing 4 days later. But that doesn’t mean we were in the pow yet! In Hokkaido, while the resorts are not responsible for off piste skiing, they don’t prohibit it as they do in most other places in Japan. At Niseko, a well organized gate system is provided that allows access to AWESOME back country. These gates remain closed during and after most snowfalls to allow the snow to stabilize, limiting avalanche risk which means that while the snow on the piste is gobbled as it falls, the snow outside the gates stays perfect until the the gates are opened.
So what’s to be done when the snow sucks? We wait. There’s not much pleasure in slugging over pistes hacked and moguled by skiers, none that is that can be matched to a good night out of amazing food and nama (draft – literally ‘fresh’) beer and of course sleeping in. And Hirafu has plenty when it comes to great eating and drinking. However, if you guys are on a hunt for another kind of ‘fluff’ we don’t recommend Niseko, dysphemistically called, Nisecock in the heart of Cockkaido by a radical dude we rode with one year, due to the overabundance of loud, overbearing Aussie guys that dominate the night scene.
But with powder vultures flocking en masse, waiting for those gates to open, timing is critical to get to untracked bliss and we timed it PERFECTLY!
6 days after arriving in Hirafu, Al’s friend Ian showed up just in time with his dry British wit and sexy head...camera (we forgive him for being a skier), we nailed Gate 5 just as it opened and gobbled up bottomless, over the knee, super sweet, steep and deep with perfectly spaced trees!
But it gets waaaaay better! As we came up the lift after the short hike on the cat track from the bottom of G5 (a necessary evil for G5) looking for another go, we noticed the trippy single chair to the peak gate was starting to cue and the gods of pow pow shone on us a second time that day as the opening of the peak gate was announced!
We joined the line of powder hounds, clambering up the 20-30min (if you’re fit), well-groomed track, up to the peak, and after we popped through the low hanging clouds into bluebird bliss, the site to behold was enough to make even the hardcore riders stop their march to gawk in awe. There, floating on a swirling sea of cotton, stood Yotei-san (mountain), the Fuji-san of Hokkaido so called for its unmistakeable likeness to the giant iconic symbol of Japan.
After pausing slightly for some pics, we completed the accent and quickly decided to attack the fiercely coveted Niseko Annupuri back bowl. I’ll let the video speak for itself but I will say that hitting freshies on the back bowl is when you can say, ‘That’s what we came for’ and it just melts away all the anxiety that builds when the sky is blue and the slopes are barren. What a CRACKER of a day!!
Of course, the satisfaction of an epic day out is soon replaced by the insatiable hunger for more powder and with everything tracked out and no new snow (again!) on the horizon, our eye was on Yotei-san. Every year Yotei-san stands watch over the town and mocks us with her beautiful white. Some years the snow’s been just too amazing for even one day off from our mad, all-mountain pass, circuit around Niseko United (the name given to all the resort areas on Mt Annupuri) hitting all the hot spots for lines. Some years, like this year, when even singing the praises of ‘Let it snow’ to little know snow god Dean Martin won’t bring in the blizzard, we’ve looked to Yotei-san. The thing is so does everyone else so finding a guide has proven to be very problematic. In fact, a lot of people book guides when they book their trips, up to 6 months in advance.
But this year, we were finally able to book a group tour with a local operator and we set out full of hope on a pristine day touted by all as a ‘perfect Yotei day’. Perfect that is if you have any level of fitness remotely close to what is required for the climb which after only 10 mins it became apparent that one in our group did not.
While the hike was enjoyable and the ride down 2/3 or the mountain was definitely better than average, Al, Ian and I were very disappointed to have our chance to summit Yotei-san quashed by others in our group.
Ian was so pissed that he summited Yotei-san the next day with 2 other guys and no guide.
That being said Ian has climbed in the Himalayans etc etc so his experience, skill and risk tolerance are well beyond Al’s and mine. I don’t recommend anyone to climb any mountains much less even head off piste anywhere without a good knowledge of the area and/or an experienced guide and of course all the necessary avalanche training and gear.
Here’s my advice if you’re planning a hike up Yotei-san
• Book well in advanced and pay the extra for a guide for your private group. No public group tours!
• Make sure your guide has actually summited Yotei-san (preferably multiple times) and actually has the intention of trying a summit with you.
• Make sure you have adequate gear, training and fitness levels.
• Manage your expectations: Fewer than 25% of all attempts on Yotei-san result in summiting.
Hiking 2/3 of Yotei-san and riding down seemed like a good way to wrap up the Niseko portion of our trip. With no new snow, I relaxed and packed while Ian was climbing Yotei and Al was still feverishly trying to sniff out some powder stashes.
Our next stop on the trip was Asahikawa, giving us access to Kamui Ski Links and Asahidake. We had a last minute thought to check out the last day of the Sapporo Snow Festival on our way through Sapporo. A few beers later we offered a snow dance to Dean Martin.