Yotei-Zan in a Day
The majestic figure of this extinct volcano which rises to 1898 metres
offers a manageable and spectacular backcountry experience. "Ezo no Fuji"
offers a far more attractive climbing experience than its bigger sister. A
day trip is enough to get to the base of the mountain, climb to the summit,
board into and climb out of the crator and ride down. It is a popular summer
hike yet can be managed without crampons in spring, although the steepness
requires at least poles. There are 4 main trails which ascend to at the crater
in a fairly straight path. Estimated summer hike times are around 4 -5 hours.
We managed the winter hike in that time but had to move it a little due to a
relatively late start.
From Hirafu to the base, we cheated by taking a taxi, booked from the nearby
town of Kutchan. One way cost around 5000 yen for a 25-minute drive along
route 66 to Fukidashi Park (koen). We were dropped at the campsite there,
from which point we started our day's adventure from the red Torii
(shrine gate), going up into a quite dense forest trail, marked by
pink streamers, hung from the trees. After a hour or so the trees start to
thin, and the area steepens quite drastically; leaving you to dream about the
powder turns you are going to shred thought the trees on the way down. It
had been so long since I had seen such deep, blue skies. Gazing up every 5
or so minutes was a good excuse to rest the legs! Once above the main tree
line we were blessed with fantastic views of the world below - Rusutsu
resort seemingly a dwarf standing in a field. The mind conjured up the
imagery of this winterwonderland in summer, when the miles of beautiful
Hokkaido farmland make up a technicolour patchwork quilt, stretching to the
horizon. As the climb steepened we came across a small group of other
climbers, lapping up the coolblue skies and comforting sun. Don't you always
find the menace of clouds rolling in very unsetttling?
We passed our fellow adventurers, who had set out a couple of hours before
us and seemed to be feeling the effects of the incline. From this point we
only saw 3 others skiing down from the summit.
The previous night's revellry at the local Australian bar and early rise
subsequently took its toll around an hour from the top. My thoughts wandered
from my incredible surroundings to food and drink and a place to relieve my
aching legs. I lost concentration somewhat, slipping many times and yawning
constantly - the change in altitude had set in. But, with Mark at the helm
and mutual encouragement we panted on and after a brief rest to add layers
before the final push, we reached our goal.
Spectacular doesn't begin to describe the scenery which awaited us. Yotei's
beautifully crafted crater totally encapsulated the grace and harshness of
nature and underlined the futility of man in his belief that he is in
control. Here, we had found another of those heavens on earth which so few
of us are lucky enough to see. Fatigue hid itself beneath enchanted
bewilderment.
So, what does one do if you meet a crater with a board strapped to your
back? That's right, you ride right down into it. What an unimaginable thrill
as I quite literally eased over the crater lip and flew into the bowels
below. Mark followed me down and after a short pause for thought , mouths
agape as we took in the panorama above and around us, we clambered out of
nature's amphitheatre, stopping halfway up to refuel on onigiri,
chocolate, bananas and Lilt. All the while the wind above whipped in the
clouds, then whisked them away right over our heads. Words were few. I
wanted to hug Mark for the joy of life that this shared experience had shown
us, but didn't. We both knew and felt something special that we didn't need
to show. The spectacular surroundings expressed all our emotions for us.
Once revitalised, it was time to hit the 40 degree slopes and gracefully
glide throught the open run, then lightly dense forest until the pine level
where a mere metre or so separated the trees. After a full 30 minutes of
riding we arrived back at the carpark. It was quite something to look back
to the summit and imagine where we had been just half an hour earlier. Now
the wind was gone and the sun warmed us generously as we peeled off the
layers and headed down to route 66, not a car in sight, but for one lone
parked Toyota. As always, once on the main road, it was easy to hitch a lift
back to Niseko. In five minutes, 3 cars passed, the third of which stopped.
A slightly wary-looking, yet friendly enough local from Kutchan took us the
short way back and dropped us at sacred Seicomart, one of Japan's
lesser-known convenience stores. There was no bath to soak away the pain as
our hotel was officially shut for redecoration, even though we had our bags
inside. It didn't matter though, in my mild state of fatigued and amazed
deirium. What an adventure!
SP
Climbing Hokkaido's Fuji
Yotei-zan, also known as the Fuji of the North is a spectacular 1893m volcano rising from the fertile
plains of southwest Hokkaido. Visible from miles around and a constant backdrop to Niseko, Japan's
top winter sports resort, it is a clear indicator of the power of nature.
We awoke early to pure blue skies. After a morning rotemburo (outdoor hot spring) overlooking the
Hirafu slopes we had our Viking Breakfast (a mix of Japanese food and more traditional breakfast
fare but in the style of a Viking banquet, i.e. all you can eat) and rushed up to meet our awaiting
taxi. We grabbed a few rice balls, chocolates (Snickers as there are no Cliff Bars in Japan) and a
couple of litres of Sports Drink from the Seicomart down the road and then it was a thirty
minute 5,000JPY (35 pounds) journey over to the trail head.
Despite it being a beautiful day there were only two cars in the car park and no one around. There
was a mini torii (gate) and shrine however to tell us we were in the right spot and mark the start
of the 1500m climb and near 5-hour pilgrimage to the summit. With our boards strapped to our sacks
and wearing only a t-shirts we set off from at 08.40 in the morning sun. (We would recommend a 07.00
start but our Viking Feast was served up from 07.30 hence our delay).
The first hour was fairly easy going through deciduous birch(?) forest on a shallow gradient. The
trail itself was covered in snow and there were only a few signs of footprints but occasional pink
and red ribbons tied to tree branches, and the upward slope, showed the way.
As the slope angle increased, from a gentle 15 degrees near the base to 40 degrees just below the
summit crater, the vegetation too changed to more sparsely spread trees and finally nothing but the
occasional bush sprouting from the volcanic rocks visible near the windswept summit. At the top there
were still beautiful 'jufyou' snow-formations indicating how cold the temperatures remained. We
added an extra t-shirt and jacket before the final climb.
With the warm weather and recent rain the snow was compact enough as not to require snowshoes and
soft enough to preclude the necessity for crampons. Ski poles or an ice-pick were the only climbing
aid necessary on the steep slope, although riding partner Steve Parker made it up without even these.
From a distance, Yotei-san is the perfect volcano. It stands alone rising symmetrically from the
Hokkaido plains. From the summit rim, it is even more perfect than could have been imagined; the
crater a cylindrical bowl unspoilt by wayward eruptions. The highlight of the adventure was riding
down into the base of this bowl itself. Inside the crater the snow was colder and drier than on the
sun-baked slopes we had climbed and irresistible riding; so much so that we ignored our hunger after
the four and a half hour climb and, after a frenzy of video and photos, rode down.
The wind at the top blew clouds in and away by the minute creating beautiful shadows across the
volcanic hollow and making so that our view across to the far rim (almost a full kilometre away)
was even more precious. Indeed, as the afternoon progressed the clouds settled around the top of
Yotei-san and we were perhaps lucky to have made it up in-time.
We marvelled further at the scenery from the centre of the caldera before climbing back up to a safe
and sheltered spot just below the rim for lunch. The location alone made our meal of chocolate, half
a banana, the 'best rice ball ever', Sports Drink and a can of specially imported Lilt (not as yet
available in Japan) as delicious as any feast we could imagine.
We set off down separately and cautiously although the snow itself was stable and very compact. For
the first 200metres or so we were in the cloud now perched atop the volcano, but as soon as we came
out below it, it was clear just how far we'd climbed. The whole ride down took 45 minutes with the
only breaks being to check our route. As we had to be back in Tokyo that night we decided against
exploring further and came down pretty much the way we'd gone up.
Arriving back at the car-park it was amazing to look back up to where we'd been less than an hour
before.
We hiked/rode down beside the kilometre pine-tree lined trail back to the main road where we planned
to hitch back to Hirafu and our hotel. The sixth car, and in fairness the first that looked like it
could actually fit us and our boards in, stopped, and the driver, on his way back to Kutchan from
work, agreed to a detour to drop us off near our hotel.
The perfect end to the perfect adventure. (It was now just a 6-hour bus, plane and car journey back
to Saitama).
Click here for a detailed map
illustrating our route. NB. this file is large (366KB) but interesting if you like maps.
ME
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