Swallowed by white, this is a different sort of hike

The ’80s-brown digital alarm clock crows. The window glows a gradually whitening aurora. I gracelessly roll off my futon like an anaesthetised horse, shuffle down the corridor in ill-fitting slippers, swaddled in a yukata, thwacking my forehead on a hefty low beam that’s been thwacked by generations of yawning pilgrims.

Togakushi Pilgrims’ Inn owner, Gokui-san, 78, is regaled in a black conical hat and powder-blue robe. The bespectacled, rally-driving Shinto priest thumps a taiko drum, chants metallically, executing the purification ceremony’s esoteric formalities, by proxy launching my seven-day guided snowshoe tour of rural Nagano with Walk Japan.

Snowshoeing the fields and forests of Kagami-Ike Togakushi.

This week, three metres of powder snow will coat Japan’s Central Alps, a region Nobel Laureate Yasunari Kawabata labelled “Snow Country”. Sky and earth become one profoundly white realm. Cloistered senses sharpen. Time compresses into exhilarating snippets, like a real-time slide-night.

Morning rituals develop. Devour teeny bowls of provincial scrumptiousness. Squeak into snug, snow-resistant synthetic layers. Tether snowshoes to hiking boots; affix gaiters. Follow Walk Japan’s chirpy guides, Nick and Shiori, into the snowscape, shepherded by local enigmas like Hata-san.

An Italian restaurateur-cum-ski-slopes-groomer, Hata-san knows the most intriguing forest paths between Togakushi’s five shrines; centuries-old Buddhist/Shinto structures where divinity dances on weathered woodwork, where “treasure meets light”, and where water-breathing dragons safeguard trees.

The sun is out but the snow is deep.

Hata-san’s owl-strength eyes and wisdom breathe life into Nagano’s backcountry. Simple scratches in mossy tree bark become claw-marks of now-hibernating Asian black bears. He occasionally hears them thud to the forest floor from their precarious tree-top perches in warmer months, fixated on nothing but scoffing acorns. Criss-crossing indents in the snow become a fox pursuing her bunny-rabbit feast. My own snowshoe-track trajectory reminds Hata-san of the common raccoon dog’s.

I cagily crunch across Lake Kagami-ike, trout swimming under 50 frozen centimetres. Sapphire sky perforates clouds briefly, uncloaking formidable Togakushi Range, home to cave-dwelling monks, life-extinguishing mountain-climbing routes and, reportedly, Momiji – a murderous female demon exiled from Kyoto.

A stupendous avenue of 400-year-old, sky-tickling cedars preludes Togakushi’s Okusha shrine. Instagramming day-trippers and pilgrims alike approach this “power spot” reverently: toss a coin, bow twice, clap twice, pray, bow again.

Sixty kilometres’ (drive) north-west, I swap American-made plastic snowshoes for kanjiki, traditional oval-shaped bamboo versions, secured by a puzzling twine matrix. Walking in snowshoes is more natural than I’d presumed – normally. Breaking trail in the thigh-deep “Japow” around Karayama, however, is spirit and fitness-testing (fortuitously, guides shoulder the lion’s share of the trailblazing).

The village’s seven families perpetually battle to keep their pointy roofed houses unburied, dressed like Michelin men and women, armed with snarling snow-blowers. Paipatiroma restaurant provides ski-lodge-like lunchtime sanctuary: steaming hot pots of local proteins; stirring jasmine tea. The Okinawa-phile owner strums his snakeskin ukulele, singing an original composition: We get lots of snow; it’s tiring but we love it.

I self-sled my luggage to my Nabekura Kogen Mori-no-ie cottage and melt into a nearby village onsen, before striding out for night snowshoeing, sans headlamp, to unleash “all the senses”. My comrades shapeshift into shadows in the blizzardy umbra. Laboured breaths chomp silence.

We dig out and trample down a snow circle, drink thermos-hot matcha au lait by lantern light; hoods whitening. Lightning crashes our blizzard party just as ghost stories begin. We retrace the pre-furrowed path, warm light beaming from my cabin’s upper windows like motherly eyes.

First light, I shovel 70 centimetres of overnight snow from my doorway, bound for Mount Hanatateyama. In summer, this satoyama landscape rolls with buckwheat crops (used for soba noodles) as far as the eye can see, but the summit will not be seen nor scaled today, by me or a Japanese antelope who’s left deep, struggling belly marks across our path.

Our third-leg mini-bus transfer zigzags into Snow Country’s most mountainous corner, pit-stopping at Aussie ski-town-favourite Nozawa Onsen, where locals boil eggs in hot springs. At tiny Koakasawa village, a traditional matagi hunter, Fukuhara-san, leads us towards a secluded waterfall that materialises from snow-laden branches like a wintry hallucination.

There’s a hut under there somewhere...

He explains his contentious, slowly dying profession through a spiritual lens: “It’s not just killing bears and making money – we ‘receive’ animals from the mountain, a kami [deity].”

The mini-bus crawls up the final coils of guard-rail-less C-road, a white tightrope of scenic bliss and sheer consequences. Ironically, the snow-cover around isolated Yukiakari Hotel is too thick for enjoyable snowshoeing, so I willingly yield to plan B.

Mouthfuls of mountain vegetables, wild boar and bread cooked in onsen steam. Sips of hot sake. Every gulp surveyed by a taxidermied bear and raccoon dog. The day ends like always: submerged in the hotel onsen’s geothermal waters. The heat sedates my grouchy adductor muscles while the ever-falling snow outside settles deeply into my memory.

THE DETAILS

FLY + RAIL
JAL flies from Sydney and Melbourne to Tokyo daily. See jal.co.jp/au/en/
The tour begins at Nagano shinkansen station. There are regular JR West trains from Tokyo Station (1 hour, 40 minutes) to Nagano. See westjr.co.jp/global/en/

TOUR
Walk Japan’s seven-day Nagano Snow Country costs from JPY460,000 ($5070), including accommodation, most meals and transfers once in Nagano. A pre-tour pack lists all the snow clothing required but comfortable Gore-Tex/winter boots and hiking poles with snow baskets are a must. See walkjapan.com/tour/nagano-snow-country

The writer was a guest of Walk Japan.