The well-dressed manager at Seki Onsen, a family-run ski area with two lifts and little pretense. Erick Jackson cruising to the lifts at Seki Onsen—it’s ride in, ride out after a storm. INCOMING STORM Myoko Kogen snow forecast, 1/23/2024: “According to Niigata Local Meteorological Observatory, heavy snow is expected to fall in the prefecture from tonight until the 25 th , both on the plains and along the mountains, due to the strongest cold air stream of the winter. Heavy snowfall is expected to reach warning levels in some areas tomorrow, and the locals are being warned about pos-sible traffic disruptions. The expected 24-hour snowfall is 40-60 centimeters in the Joetsu plains and 70-100 centimeters across the alpine ski resorts, followed by a similar amount across the fol-lowing 24 hours. In addition, strong winds are expected, which may have some effect on lift operation.” I read this from the comfort of new accommodations, up the road from Myoko proper at Seki Onsen. The kerosene was just too hard on our lungs. The local lift infrastructure, the young Canadian behind the desk tells us, went undamaged by the New Year’s earthquake in Ishikawa, 200 miles to the west. At 7.6 on the Richter scale, it was devastating for many, causing over 200 deaths and destroying more than 20,000 homes. Here in this dead-end hamlet on a Tuesday, it seems we’re the only ones around—at least the only ones at this two-story, Aus-tralian-owned, onsen-equipped hotel. It’s expensive. It’s not quite a Ryokan in the traditional sense—maybe it once was, but the food is some kind of semi-westernized mishmash. Shin and cin-ematographer Hiraoki “Yone” Yonekura will arrive late to meet us. Eric and I eat bland beef and rice then watch snow begin to fall, lightly, out the window. LOW KEY FAMOUS Deep powder awaits. In a tiny ski area office, maybe 8 feet by 10 feet, a woodstove blasts full throttle. The walls are lined with vintage ski gear. Out-side, no more than 10 steps away, a hunched-over lifty clears snow off slowly spinning chairs with a wooden broom. A jolly man who appears to be in his early 60s, well dressed in blue slacks, a grey wool button up, and clean leather boots, speaks with Yone for several minutes. He then hands us tickets and says, “tell them Seki Onsen number one.” We exchange bows. The two-seater rocks slowly up through birch forest. There’s at least 2 feet of new snow, but the base is still pretty thin—sticks and stumps protrude under the deciduous canopy. On the first run, Shin airs off a cat track near the bottom and lands on rocks, badly bruising his thigh. He shakes it off and we lap a few short but steep pitches, exploring the bounty of the storm carefully, cutting across debris from a large glide avalanche, finding our way through bamboo thickets back to the chairlift. It’s still snowing. It will only get deeper from here. With the low-key-famous single-seat upper chair closed, we retire to the day lodge for an early lunch. Inside the dark, steamy building, ’60s Olympic memorabilia shares the walls with a 5-foot-tall tribute poster to Craig Kelly, who frequented the area decades ago. Behind the cashier, they’re selling t-shirts that say, “Seki Onsen: Fuck The Patrol.” Not that we’ve seen any patrol, but the backcountry policies are decidedly liberal up here on the northwest side of Mt. Myoko. MYOKO 043
The Snowboarder's Journal The Snowboarder's Journal 22.1: Page 43
