The Coolest Experience

Hiking Through Snow Country 

- Hannah Choo

THE BUS JOURNEY to Togakushi winds through the mountains of central Japan on narrow icy roads. I see snow fall for the first time as we leave Nagano’s mucky slush behind. Our guide, Nicholas Hall, shares a Japanese folk tale about a princess while the bus inches its way up the densely forested mountains. After it crests the final ridge, it sweeps into Togakushi, a sedate and ancient Shinto village nestled among 900-year-old cedar trees.

I see lots of lightning-shaped origami hang from the shrines and trees. “These represent the spirituality of the place,” explains Daniel Moore, our other guide. “It’s a line separating us from the outside world.”

I’m an unbeliever, so I wonder if their gods would let me in. I say nothing but smile, and proceed to get my snowshoes on. These stubby plastic contraptions look like short skis, but are nothing like skis. They grip with metal teeth and are the gems that extend your hiking season into the winter, letting you enjoy the cold solitude without having to trudge through deep snow. All you need is to slide your boots in and clip into place. It isn’t rocket science, but I spend a good 30 minutes stumbling and being awkward before pulling myself together for our first 1.5km trek into the snow country.

HIKING WITH STRANGERS

It is late February, and I am the only journalist among seven other paying customers on Walk Japan’s last Snow Country Trek of the season. I meet Alan Jones from Australia, an owner of two tabby cats who absolutely hates bagpipes. I also meet fellow Singaporean Desmond Chan who’s here alone because his wife hates the snow, and Esther Tan, a thrill-seeking doctor now on her 11th trip with Walk Japan.