Winter in Hokkaido: An Addictive Snow Journey

When there’s nothing around, why not sell that “nothingness”! That’s what I found myself thinking while wandering through Hokkaido in winter.

 

With endless white snow covering everything, the scenery is as beautiful as a postcard. Sunlight shining on the vast snowy plains is dazzling yet surreal. When Mr. Kurihara Kentaro, Chief of the Tourism Section at the Obihiro City Chamber of Commerce, Industry and Tourism Department, humbly said, “In winter, aside from snow, (Hokkaido) really has nothing,” he wasn’t being polite. During my trip here, I encountered locals who said more than once, “We’re so sick of looking at snow all the time — how come you Taiwanese love coming to Hokkaido in winter so much?” Of course, there’s an element of joke in it, but behind the humor lies a genuine love for their homeland. The tourism promotion logic of Hokkaido people isn’t about copying what others have, but about finding value-added opportunities even in seemingly harsh environments. If there’s only snow, then let’s embrace the snow wholeheartedly.

 

Come to Hokkaido, and dare to shout and laugh out loud. On such a silent land, your exclamations are like frozen shards that tinkle rapidly into nothingness in the air — both thrilling and liberating. Aside from dog sledding, you can also try skiing, snow banana boats, snow rafts, and snowmobiles, speeding freely through the biting wind and snow. Sliding, spinning out, or getting spun out — starting with a bit of trepidation, you eventually end up laughing and shouting joyfully. Winter in Hokkaido demands this kind of boldness to fight off the chill.

 

For snow beginners, we headed to Asahiyama Snow Village, located right next to the east gate of Asahiyama Zoo. This seasonal village, situated near the zoo and featuring a wide variety of facilities, is perfect for family snow fun. Both the snow banana boat and raft are pulled by snowmobiles to create a sense of speed and thrilling instability using centrifugal force. Since it’s your first time experiencing banana boats and rafts off the water, you don’t have to worry about capsizing, which makes it much less intimidating. But just when you think that, the staff — having accurately predicted your thoughts — throws in a surprise spin. You suddenly find yourself screaming as the raft sweeps across the ground, sending up a spray of white snow. You’re almost flung out, yet never quite dumped onto the snow. The cold wind whips against your face, wrapped in layers of winter gear, giving you a true feeling of throwing caution to the wind.

 

Here you can also try driving a snowmobile or take a ride on a snow groomer. Especially climbing aboard the massive groomer feels like riding an open-top truck in your childhood — except that all you see is snow. As the groomer climbs slopes steeper than 30 degrees, the thrill is mixed with awe as you gaze at distant mountains, with withered birch forests and frozen earth gradually unfolding before your eyes, filling you with a strange sense of peace: “If I were born in Hokkaido, winter would mean wearing snow boots, driving a groomer, and perhaps becoming a lumberjack or dairy farmer!”

After having fun at Snow Village, don’t miss the Asahiyama Zoo, the northernmost zoo in Japan. Its dynamic exhibits were pioneers in balancing ecological education with zoo operations in Japan, and among them, the winter Penguin Walk is the highlight.

 

What started as a weight-loss plan for pampered zoo penguins

quickly became a huge hit because visitors could watch the adorable penguins march by as if they were heading to work. The main goal of dynamic exhibits is to encourage animals to display their most natural behaviors — but these penguins walking in line, unfazed and looking like they’re clocking in for work, dressed as if in suits, are simply irresistible.

 

After the beginner’s snow lesson, it’s time for the more physically demanding experience of skiing. Gliding over the snowy landscape and speeding through the blizzard — “looking cool” might be the shallowest reason, but it’s reason enough. But reality isn’t always so romantic. The bread baked fresh daily at the bakery of Shin-Furano Prince Hotel is especially tempting — I think it’s not just because of the rich, deep flavors, but also because skiing leaves you ravenous. The Furano Ski Resort is located right next to the Shin-Furano Prince Hotel. With a 50-year history, this resort is a versatile ski destination that caters to all kinds of skiers. This time, we took on the beginner slope, practicing “walking” and “falling” at the base of the slope before the crowds arrived at 6 a.m. Our ski instructor, Kei, started by cheerfully congratulating us — despite the fierce snowstorm, it was actually perfect. The snow was not only beautiful but soft, and falling didn’t hurt. At first, I didn’t believe him, but after a few falls — eventually just giving up and sitting on the ground — I realized Kei was right. Ski gear is heavy, and just crawling in snow boots, crab-walking, sliding on the flat, and practicing falls requires skill and lots of stamina. Halfway through, I was already sweating. Then a group of elementary school kids zipped past me, sparking my competitive side. By the time we moved to the kids’ slope for real runs, I was already desperate for a bathroom break.

 

But the fun was only just beginning — there was no way I’d give up. On the kids’ slope, we attempted two-part runs: starting from the top in a pigeon-toed stance and using the back of the skis to control speed. Coaches were on standby to prevent us from going out of bounds or getting injured. Those who did well continued down. At first, coaches crouched and held the skis to prevent us from going too fast, but later runs gave us more freedom. The tenser you are, the stiffer your body becomes, and the harder it is to stay balanced. So the coaches kept reminding us: “Relax, relax!” Ironically, the more nervous you are, the tenser your muscles get, making you tire faster and lose control even more. It became a vicious cycle, until I finally told Kei, “I’m out of energy — I guess I’ll just have to relax.”

If skiing is too exhausting and snow rafts too basic, then try dog sledding. Before the experience, I had built up all sorts of romantic fantasies: on the snowy expanse, with the winter horizon and rows of birch trees forming a silent backdrop, a team of huskies dashes across the land, only the sound of jingling bells bringing you back to reality. But when I actually joined the Mushing Works dog sledding experience and saw the small dogs, I felt a pang of guilt. These dogs barked nonstop at people, almost making me want to quit. Later, the instructor explained that Hokkaido sled dogs are of Russian breed — they naturally look more like hunting dogs than sled dogs. As for their howls, it was all in our heads. The dogs associate the sled with the chance to run freely and go wild, which is why they bark so excitedly. Once on the sled, it turned out he was right. Even while waiting, the dogs were restless. The moment the instructor’s snowmobile took off, the dogs dashed forward like they’d spotted the postman’s bike. It’s not at all like the leisurely image of sitting in a sled, cruising through picturesque snowy scenery. First, you stand at the back of the sled, like on a snowboard, and steer by leaning the front rail. To slow down, you dig the heels of your boots into the snow. Occasionally, the dogs get their leashes tangled, requiring skillful slowing to untangle them mid-run. Other times, they run too fast and the sled sways sideways on the snow, so you need time to practice basic control. But while controlling the sled, you also have to keep your body relaxed — if you’re too stiff, the dogs sense anxiety and become restless. Fear can’t be expressed with screams either, or you’ll scare the dogs. But all of that is secondary. Once you’ve tried it, your entire understanding of dog sledding changes. Ever seen Initial D? This is the snow groomer edition of drifting on the ridge of a manhole cover. The terrain is vast fields and forests, and the sled dogs follow the tracks left by the snowmobile ahead — but the snowbanks along the trail curve upward. When the dogs run too fast, the sled lurches up onto the snowbanks, which is absolutely thrilling. But riding the sled is amazing — the dogs charge forward with total focus. In the cold rush of speed, silence isn’t loneliness. The scenery is breathtaking, and both humans and dogs are solely focused on “running,” minds as clear as snow. Standard experiences start at 6 km, but we only ran 1.5 km — we wanted more.

 

Just the outdoor activities alone have endless stories. This Hokkaido trip also included experiences like the Ice Waterfall Festival, Elf Cabins, Hanamuro Village ice activities, Lake Nibetsu Ainu Village ice cup making, farming horse races, Liyu Moon pastry decoration, and the Kirarin Hana light show. And, of course, there was the delicious local cuisine made with fresh vegetables and seafood. Even better were the skin-nourishing plant-based hot springs — especially the amber-colored ones, with Tokachi Hot Springs being the most iconic in Japan. A winter this long, yet a trip this short. The season may have shed its cold, but my longing for winter is something entirely new.

Address: 25, 31st Line, Nishikaiko, Kamikawa District, Hokkaido, Japan. The experience location may be subject to change, and there is no base camp at this site. Please confirm the meeting and access method when making a reservation.

Hours: For the 2013–2014 winter season, the tour is expected to operate every Friday to Monday from mid-February to late March. For details, please check the official website.

Email: dogdriver.takita@gmail.com

Website: www.inuzori.com

 

 

●  Further Reading:

Slow Travel in Hokkaido: A Journey Through Niseko’s Wilderness

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