Skiing, Yamagata Zao. February 1986
Zao-san, a mountain straddling Honshu's spine was locally famous in both Sendai and Yamagata-city for its scenic beauty. The crater lake at the top, Okama, was reached by the famous, winding road, the "Zao Echo Line", which would get bumper to bumper packed with cars on weekends. Overall, I didn't like Mt. Zao simply because it was overly touristy, it took a long time to get there, and its traffic was legendarily horrible. Along with Matsushima, it was one of the places any foreigner got invited to RELENTLESSLY while living in Sendai. I refused almost all invitations with two exceptions: Gaga Onsen (hotspring) on the Miyagi (Sendai) side and the ski pistes on the Yamagata side. Yamagata Zao for skiing was heavenly. The cold air blew off Siberia, picked up moisture over the Japan Sea, and dropped it as perfectly powdery snow on the western flank of Mt. Zao. Yamagata Zao was an amazing place to ski considering its accessibility, slopes, and snow quality and quantity.
Since I worked at a YMCA, there were many sport-related classes. I soon realized that a lot of my colleagues were ski instructors and they encouraged me to learn to ski. I never had any great desire to learn to ski, but I also didn't want to miss out on a life opportunity. How often does one get nearly free ski lessons on REAL mountains with REAL snow? So, I learned to ski in Japan!
Japanese, like English, just loves to borrow foreign words. The Japanese took their entire ski vocabulary from German. I knew the words weren't Japanese when I learned them, but I only found out later from German friends that all the basic ski vocabulary was German loan-words pronounced in Japanese. Essentially I learned to ski in German with a Japanese accent! I did not take to skiing readily. and I never got that good at it. However, it was very popular among all my Japanese friends, so I put effort into enjoying it. Some of my friends were excellent skiers! Once I tried cross-country skiing and realized I liked that a whole lot more - unfortunately, it was not too popular in Japan and I only got to do it twice.
On one ski trip to Iwate Prefecture (locally, the best place for skiing), I was on the mountain top following a poor map of the pistes. There was a loudspeaker that kept announcing something in Japanese, but I only caught the word "Abunai" (dangerous) and not much else. I was in search of a nice, green-colored line on the map whose slope would bring me gently down to the mountain bottom. I discovered, to my dismay that I had skied to the edge of a cliff which was a "triple diamond black slope" on the map. I literally got to the edge and looked straight down. I had no choice but to try. There were much better skiers zooming by me, but I doggedly went down, falling the whole way. I caught the attention of all my friends who were waiting for me at the bottom in a cross between amazement and hysterics. I had become the stuff of legend after that: Matto-san, the brave American novice skier who challenged the triple diamond black slope.
Upon arrival at the bottom, I had snow everywhere both inside and outside my jacket. I was not in good shape. My colleague who often looked after me, Murai, put his arm around me and said, "Let's drinking beer!" It was 10am, but yeah - I needed it. I think Japan also broke me from any vestiges I had of time barriers to drinking alcohol. Beer at 10am? Hell yes, if I needed it!
The photo above is me, Komatsu (another friend), and Ono-san, my sushi-making bestie at whose bar I was a regular. He was an incredibly generous friend who worked hard and played harder. He often invited me on local trips in his very rare moments of free time. That in itself was quite a gift from a hard-working guy. This was one of our ski trips. It most likely ended with a lot of beer and some good hot Japanese nosh like Oden. Ono-san was one of my most steadfast friends in Sendai.
I never skied again after Japan. I didn't miss it, but I am happy I did it while I was there. Charenji-dah Matto! Yoku gambaremashita!