Shred first, apologize later - My winter riding JAPOW backcountry

By Addie Duchin

Japan, a country famous in pop culture for vibrant temples, neon-lit streets, and postcard ready cherry blossoms. But anyone involved in the outdoor industry will tell you: Japan is really known for one thing - JAPOW. 

JAPOW (n.) The absolute mental amount of snow Japan receives between mid-December and mid-March. Light, fluffy, bottomless. There is no debate: JAPOW is the best snow in the world. People come from every corner of the globe just to dip their skis or board into the magic. 

And somehow, I got lucky enough to live in it. 

I spent three months in a tiny, traditional ski village tucked away in the Japanese Alps, just a two-hour shinkansen (bullet train) from Tokyo. If Hakuba and Niseko are the flashy Hollywood stars, this village is the quirky indie film everyone tries to gatekeep (including me.) 

Life in the Village 

By day, I rode the most insane snow on the planet. By night, I sang my heart out in a karaoke bar and worked at a local sukiyaki restaurant. A ski bum's dream. 

As the days passed, the town started feeling like home. My coworkers became close friends, I picked up bits of Japanese, I discovered my favorite runs, the best coffee shops, the bars with the cheapest beer. I also learned, embarrassingly late, that sukiyaki was not in fact the same thing as ramen (a rough realization on my first day working at a sukiyaki restaurant.) 

It didn’t take long to realize this place was heaven and I never wanted to leave. Screw my American citizenship! Cue my ongoing hunt for a Japanese husband (so far unsuccessful.) 

The Chase 

In this town, ski patrol operates with military precision. In many resorts in Japan - all trees are out of bounds meaning you are not allowed to ski there. This is due to a combination of general safety, not having the adequate staff/resources to properly patrol/ rescue from these areas and rules around the leasing of the land. They take their job extremely seriously and will ban you from the resort the first time they catch you out of bounds.

However, if you know me at all, you would know that the only thing I like to ride is trees. Although I can not recommend you doing the same, missing out on those fresh lines was not an option. 

So for those few months, it was a non-stop cat-and-mouse game with patrol. Luckily, I made some friends willing and eager to take the same risks. I was “allegedly” chased through the woods multiple times, and every time, it feels like my life is flashing before 

my eyes - not because of danger, but because my ski pass was on the line. And a pass in this town? Liquid gold. 

The patrol chases you with megaphones, shouting in Japanese, blowing whistles that are easily the loudest thing on planet Earth. By the end of the season, even the sight of a red jacket sent my whole crew into flight mode. Unfortunately, my best friend there, a badass Finnish girl named Helmi, lost the game and had her pass taken. You win some, you lose some. 

Thankfully, our boss gave her a backup company pass, with one condition: no more out-of-bounds riding. 

We followed that rule for exactly twelve minutes - which is, coincidentally, how long it takes the gondola to reach the top of the mountain. 

 

The Slide 

Although I thought we were being very sneaky and nonchalant about using the pass to go out of bounds, we got caught in a matter of days. My friend Dawson, a boy I met swing dancing in Oregon, was visiting and we wanted to show him the true japow backcountry experience. 

We were riding a bit too close together and Dawson triggered a small but hefty slide or mini avalanche. It swept both Dawson and Helmi off of their feet and 10 meters down into a tree. As I saw what happened from above, my heart stopped. Luckily no one was buried. 

When I asked them if they were okay, Dawson (who is from Hawaii) replied “I’m chillin” seemingly unphased that he was just in an avalanche. Helmi responded “my hand hurts but it’s probably fine” in her thick Finnish accent as she is icing her wrist in the snow. 

Spoiler: it wasn’t fine. I’ve seen that face before and knew instantly she’d broken her wrist. 

Dawson and I spent the next three minutes arguing about whether or not it was broken (I won), then finished the run and hiked about half a mile to the local clinic.

Unfortunately, the nurses called our boss (small town, they all knew him by name and had his number already) and told him what happened. He never said anything about us using the ski pass out of bounds - we figured he thought the broken arm was punishment enough. 

Helmi and I were skiing together again four days later… I told you she was badass!

The Lesson 

Looking back, we were lucky, really lucky. The slide could’ve been worse. Someone could’ve been buried. And honestly, we weren’t properly equipped for what we were doing. 

The backcountry isn’t a joke - conditions can shift fast, and one wrong move can change everything. When you’re heading out of bounds, having the right equipment and knowing how to use it isn’t optional, it’s essential. Beacon, probe, shovel, basic survival gear, proper layering, route planning… it all matters. But gear alone doesn’t guarantee safety. Knowing how to use it, understanding snowpack conditions, and riding with experienced partners are all equally important. So is taking the time to study avalanche forecasts, planning your route, and having a backup plan. 

I know firsthand how easy it is to get caught up in the thrill of untouched snow, especially in a place like Japan where the powder is world-class and the terrain feels like a playground. But the truth is, the backcountry is unpredictable and dangerous. Complacency is where things go wrong. 

Awareness doesn’t kill the magic, it just makes sure you get to keep chasing it. Maybe those ski patrollers had a point after all.