My Ouevre is Monochromatic.

Well, its my final night here in Hakuba. We've skiied a total of 9 days across five different resorts and extended our stay an extra day to catch one more powder dump, although it didn't quite arrive in time. We've had one huge powder day, one another good freshy day, and a few other dustings. Plenty of 'unseasonal' sunshine to go with it. No broken bones, 2 kidneys still in tact and an avalanche of photos.

Dad and I have different objectives when it has come to taking photos. Dad likes to take photos of toilets, vending machines and bus timetables.  I prefer to take photos of trees, branches and old pieces of machinery covered in snow. He doesn't understand, suggesting that it's just another tree. I tell him I'm trying to be artisitic and throw a bunch of big words his way. Something like 'capturing the fragile beauty of the interaction between humans and nature.' He explains that he's trying to document the cultural experience and that his photos will be more 'informative' and appreciated by more people. I tell him his photos of toilets are like trashy lowest common denominator US television, whereas I'm reaching a more intellectual audience who will appreciate a deeper more meaningful visual (i truly have respect for my blog readers' intelligence). He argues I'm being a pretentious little snot. I agree wholeheartedly, nodding my head with a smug smile. 'It is true. I am just better than you,' I reply.

The argument all started when i found a rusty old chairlift station and took 20 photos. 'From different angles!'  I tried to explain to a perplexed father. And then there were all the trees. What can i say? Snow is beautiful. Nature is beautiful. Combo it together and you get mega beauty.

The skiing buddy i never had.

I'm very attached to my backpack. I take it everywhere. It's been with me almost every day at uni, on every camp, and on every ski trip I've been on since I first bought it in 2006. At first it felt a little bit wierd skiing with a pack, although it was less the skiing and more the sitting on the chairlift, but over time, i've gotten so used to having it, I don't know how to ski without it. It's an extention of me.

Now my jacket has about twenty different pockets on it, inside and out, but i don't really like carrying things in my jacket. It makes me feel bulky and everything bounces around everywhere. I prefer to have it all in one area. It's a better weight distribution, better balance, and its also just appears more pro style. So i only carry my ipod, camera and phone in my jacket along with the lift pass and resort map. The rest goes on my back. Normally i fill it up with pretty useful things, although i tend to also pack some rather redundant items too. I've been carrying around an extra pair of padded boot inserts this whole week in there, just in case my feet get sore enough on the mountain that i need to slot them in. But its mainly for extra layers for when the weather quickly changes on the slopes. In the morning it might be beautiful sunshine and i decide that just sunnies are the answer, but by 11am the clouds roll in and i have to swap over and stick on the balaclava, beanie and goggles. Having it all in the pack is essential for these quick transitions. (insert gratuitous vanity shots of self thinly disguised as an illustration of the blog topic)

Here's a list of what i've always and often carried in my backpack this trip.

Thick brown beanie.
Thinner blue beanie (for when it snows, because the brown beanie is too big to fit under my jacket hood)
Gloves
Spare gloves (for a while i was so good at losing gloves i always had to carry a spare pair)
Goggles
Sunglasses
Balaclava
Neck Warmer
Jumper
Detachable Jacket Hood
Spare socks (don't do this anymore, but used to like swapping socks just before going home)
Boot inserts (I normally stick these in my boots, but this trip they came provided at the rental place, so my own pair just been in my backpack the whole time... just in case.)
Snacks.
Water Bottle.
Lunches (in Whistler, we made our own lunches on most days, so a pack was useful)
Suncreen
Lip Balm / Paw Paw
Wallet

I used to carry a book with me, just in case (of what, i don't know) but i realised the hard way that my backpack isn't entirely waterproof and snow melts straight through it...

On all my adventures over the years, my backpack has always been there alongside me. It saved me once when i took a tumble and it softened the blow against a bit of a rock. It almost killed me another time when the waist buckle got caught in the chairlift seat and it almost took me for an extra ride. But its always been there, through thick and thin. And it's never been left behind. It's a true adventure veteran. The skiing buddy I never had.

It's starting to get pretty worn through these days and I'm thankful uni is over now so it can get a bit more rest between trips. It's bloody tough, amazing quality, held some very heavy loads and never looked like tearing. It's sold me on Caribee as a brand for sure. (And it was only $79.95 no more to pay!). I might cry the day it falls apart. It will be like losing a best friend.

But before then I'll probably replace it with a smaller camelback pack with the awesome drinking tube thing. I've always wanted one of those. Cos they're fully pro.

The Ultimate.

I was woken yesterday morning by screams and cheers in the hallway. The powder day finally arrived. It had snowed all night. Lots of it. And it was still going throughout the morning. Despite soreness and pain and weariness, everybody was up and energised, scoffing down breakfast and bolting out the door to catch the early bus.

Almost everybody in town decided it would be a perfect day to travel to Cortina, a small resort that is the furthest away, but is renown across the land for receiving three times as much snow as the other resorts. When it snows 30cm in Hakuba, you can expect 1m at Cortina. What we knew is that it requied two buses to get to, with a swap at the main bus depot. What we didn't know is that we'd have to fight off a thousand other powder hunters to get a spot on the second bus. We only just managed to get on, I sat on the front step by the door. Many others had to keep waiting.

On arrival, we were welcomed by a massif eight storey hotel that feels so out of place in Japan and comes straight out of the shining. It oozes scary haunted mass axe murdering indian burial ground mysteriness. I think Dracula lives in the basement. I will never ever stay in a place like this. I like living.

So, to the snow. It was beautiful. Deep, dry, light, soft. And it kept snowing throughout the day. The main runs were tracked out early, so it became hard work to ski through. The deep powder gets chopped up by ski and board tracks and forms waves and bumps all over the place. It isn't too much of a problem as the powder is a dream to ski through, but its just hard work as you bounce around. I'm a fairly fit individual, but i was sweating, puffing and sucking in deep breaths after 20 metres. It can be difficult to turn in thick powder, as your skis are stuck under the snow. You need lots of strength in the legs and lower back to get your skis turning. It is actually easier to ski the thick stuff on steeper trails. When you turn on steep slopes, gravity is your friend as the snow falls away from you with awesome mini avalanche effect. On a gentler slope, you try and turn,  the snow is like 'I'm not moving, I'm pretty comfy here actually' and instead you just fall over.

Powder days are about finding hidden secret runs, often through some trees, where there is still smooth fresh snow, or finding a steep section where the powder is light and fluffy. Under a chairlift is often a powder  goldmine.

Some gentle runs i never saw my skis. Most of the time the snow came up to my knees. At times, I'd make a turn and the snow would come up to my waist. On occasions, in a really deep pocket on a steep run, I could feel it rising over my inside shoulder as i turned. And the sound. Its all about that sound. It sounds so different in powder. It's a deep roar. I love it. I didn't need an ipod today. The snow provided the soundtrack. And I didnt stop for lunch. It kept snowing, so i kept going. It made the whole trip worth it. Just for that one day.

I also took some other photos. Mostly of trees. Because they're beautiful and stuff...

A short lesson

Yesterday i had the pleasure to provide a short lesson to a family friend, Fran, who has just arrived in Hakuba for her own snow adventures. Fran, who has only skiied a few times before and has not been for a number of years, is staying with four pro boarders who tend to leave her behind. I told her I'd ski with her for an afternoon or two and keep her company on some beginner and intermediate trails. Here's Fran, with an awesome beanie that makes her look like she's about to go hunt a polar bear with a harpoon.

After watching her struggle down the first slope, i gave her two simple tips for making better turns. First was to put all the weight on her downhill or outside ski, and second was to lift the inside ski slightly to swing it around and keep them parallel. Almost instant improvement on the very next run. Of course, this effect i had on her technique gave me a huge ego boost and i spent most the afternoon with her contemplating a career change... This dream vanished quickly after talking to a fellow named Tom who spent three seasons as a ski instructer at Perisher and informed me I was more likely to lose money as the pay was so poor.

Upon recollection of some of my posts, I'm suddenly become aware that I've been dropping ski terms without much of an explanation for those readers with limited to no experience in the snow. I apologise. That was very inconsiderate.  i feel it is now necessary, if a little late, to provide some definitions of the terms I've used so far. I don't confess to be a skiing expert (not all the time at least) so these are by no means 'official', simply what I've come to interpret.

Powder: Fresh snow just recently fallen or untouched that is cold, light and dry. It falls away easily when you ski through it as if you're gliding through a cloud. Not all fresh snow is powder though, as some snow that falls during warmer temperatures can melt as soon as it hits the ground and becomes wet and heavy. Skiing through deep powder requires a different technique as your skis tend to sink through it easily. There are also different types of powder depending on the conditions and how the snow fell (ie wind carried powder stashes) but thats for another post...

Freshies: Putting down the first set of tracks through untouched snow. Need to get out early for these.

Groomed Run: All beginner and most intermediate runs are smoothed over each night by giant tractor like 'groomers'. They make the run nice and smooth, and also packs the snow down making it firm so people's skis don't sink through. These runs are awesome for speed and are ideal when there hasn't been fresh snow for a while. This is because ungroomed runs can quickly become bumpy and choppy and more difficult to ski after a few days without new snow.

Carving Turns: Fast, big, sweeping turns that are created by leaning on the edge of the ski. Look mega stylish and best performed on groomed runs near chairlifts where there is an audience.

Moguls: These are patterns of big mounds of snow that built up after many skiiers make turns in the same spots and form over the course of a few days. They often appear on steeper and more challenging slopes that are left ungroomed. A fresh dump of snow tends to be the cure, only for them to form again pretty quickly again afterwards. Moguls can be very difficult to ski through. Boarders hate them, which is probably why i like them. I like anything that annoys boarders. Here is an example:

That shall be it for now my young padewans. There is still much more to learn, but you can't learn everything online. Some things you just have to go out and experience. To finish this introductory lesson, i leave you with a token scenic photo of the early morning valley.

"White Out"

 Whiteout has been defined as: "A condition of diffuse light when no shadows are cast, due to a continuous white cloud layer appearing to merge with the white snow surface. In whiteout conditions visibility and contrast are severely reduced by snow as the horizon disappears completely and there are no reference points at all, leaving the individual with a distorted orientation." Thanks wikipedia.

Today i finally managed to get back onto the slopes after two days that felt like forever. Just for a few runs as i'm still pretty low on strength and energy. It was snowing again, however, most of the mountain was covered in thick cloud that made visability low on the upper slopes. At times you barely saw your own feet. White snow. White clouds. The white was suffocating and claustraphobic despite being 'out in the open'. Dad had difficulty following me through the whiteout, with my 'cream' coloured jacket and all. Quote: 'When you're more than a metre away, you're just a pair of black pants.'

 It was terribly good fun though. Yes, i had to ski very slowly because i couldn't see where i was going. I learnt that lesson in New Zealand when i was skiing at a fast pace through thick cloud on a trail i thought i knew very well, and ended up on the neighbouring terrain park jump that came out of nowhere, threw me sideways and dumped on my back with a heavy thump. I didn't even realise i went over a jump till i got up. After that I've been cautious through a whiteout.

But freakin' terrain parks are death traps i swear. Or injury traps at least. I've seen so many boarders with broken shoulders, collar bones, arms, elbows, wrists, and i ask them how it happened and they reply with some 'wicked' story about how they 'almost' completed a 'narly' trick on a 'sick' rail or jump or table top but just missed the landing by a fraction and now their whole rest of the trip will be spent inside. But that won't stop them from going back and spending their entire next trip on the same 100 metre patch of snow trying to injure themselves again. I strongly believe most snowboarders are missing a few brain cells. And what the hell are hand rails, tables and benches doing smack bang in the middle of a ski trail?!?

Excuse me, that was rather rude of me. I went a little of topic there for a moment. Now, where was I? Of course, the whiteout. So, i had to ski very slowly. And I couldn't see where i was going, what was sky and what was ground. And I had to stop every few metres and check that Dad was not too far behind me. And the wind made every bone rattle and sapped all the strength out of me. But we had fun. We had an adventure.

The Tallest Man, The Broadest Shoulders (our dinner with a sumo wrestler)

The food here in Hakuba not entirely what i was expecting.

Ok, i admit it, that was slightly over dramatic. It's not disgusting, certainly not eggplant casserole disgusting. Its rather pleasant, you could even call it tasty at times. Perhaps because I've been sick and lost a bit of my appetite, I haven't found much of it all that appealing. There just isn't as much variety as i imagined.

A bit like aeroplane food, there are really only two options. Despite the numerous items on the menu's, you either have chicken or pork, with cabbage and rice or noodles. Sometimes there's a sauce like substance. This was fine for the first few days, but man i was hankering for a fresh piece of fruit after a while. But fruit is rare and expensive here. That first apple i managed to get my hands on and devour never tasted so delicious. Beef is expensive because there are no cows in japan apparently, or perhaps only a few, as they take up too much space to farm. Lamb does not exist.

But that is nothing compared to the next shocking piece of slightly over exaggerated and most likely half ignorant piece of information i am about to reveal...

There is very little sushi here. And I haven't seen one sushi bar this whole time.

We've been lied to. I was totally expecting sushi train's and sushi bars on every street corner. Just like it is in Sydney. For weeks before i left i was getting my taste buds ready with regular trips to japanese eateries and chomping down sushi in eager anticipation. But i haven't eaten a slice of fish wrapped in rice and seaweed since i arrived. I'm gutted. Perhaps there are hidden underground sushi bars that i haven't discovered yet, simply passed them by...

Maybe its just a similar story to Fosters. Many people from other countries believe that is the beer that Aussie's love to drink, but nobody sells it in Oz yet alone drinks it. Maybe we simply made the choice to believe that everybody in Japan ate sushi for breakfast, lunch and dinner but in reality its very different. You all believed that right? It wasn't just me?

Anyways, last night Dad and myself were booked into a lovely little hidden away restaurant operated by a former sumo wrestling champion. Lovely fellow. Tall and broad, but weighing a lot less than he used to, he always wears his sumo outfit, shows off his sumo hair in a glass box that he cut off when he retired 13 years ago, and welcomes photos with his guests.

Our meal consisted of a huge broth filled with pork, chicken, cabbage (no surprised there), sprouts, one mushroom, some tofo, and udon noodles that you stir all together and boil yourself.

It was very filling, probably rather healthy and tasted pretty amazing at times. Definately the pick of the meals here so far. The pork belly i ate on our first night in town comes a close second. Overall however, i remain skeptical of the food here. I reckon the following cartoon summarises my feelings when it comes to eating japanese food after a massive day of adventures on the mountain:

Osaka Flu?

Woke up really sick and sore yesterday. Stayed in bed most of the day. Thought it was flu but the Japanese doctor informed me otherwise. Apparently my kidneys are infected, which explains the pain in my lower back that i had originally attributed to hardcore moguls. I've been instructed to take a few days off from the mountain and rest up. I've finished reading winnie the pooh, and conducted my psycho-analysis of the characters. A theory circulates that each of the characters has a mental illness but i concluded that perhaps only Eeyore could be diagnosed with depression, the rest seem perfectly normal to me. I've now moved on to reading the book thief a second time (i think i brought it because of the snow filled cover), which is richly descriptive and heartbreakingly gripping. Hakuba in some ways echoes cold stark winter of Molching, Germany, although i say that while sitting next to a heater in a lounge looking out into the cold.

It snowed briefly the other morning, just a few inches to freshen up the trails. Dad walked around and took some snaps of town. We're staying in a small suburb on the edge of Hakuba with a name that seems to translate into 'Echoland'. There's one main street, with a few cafe's, secret restaurants and hidden bars and corner stores. Shuttle buses take you to the bottom of each ski resort, down twisted narrow streets with walls of snow built up over the entire winter.

 

Here is our cosy accommodation. It's called the Glade Runner and is run by an old family friend, Andy, and his girlfriend, Bobby. Its small but relaxed, with just a few rooms and shared bathrooms. When we arrived there was only one other guest, although another ten have arrived at the start of the weekend and the place is now full.

  Around town, lodges and hostels hide beneath snow covered roofs, nestled amongst the trees of neighbouring forests. Its quite easy to get lost, as the dominant colour is white in all directions and landmarks and street features all appear fairly similar.

There's a charm and beauty about the town. Certainly a place I'd love to come back to in the future.