A few weeks back we had a bit of an Indian winter in the midst of a rather balmy March. It allowed me to strap on my Tubbs Wilderness snowshoes one last time to frolic in the environs of Asahiyama Park. The snow was fresh, the wind was strong, and the backcountry was mostly untouched. My favorite route is to walk the trails of along the back of the park and then just head up the mountain, off trail, away from any living soul.
Climbing through the powder – Asahiyama’s backside
It was a rather mild winter in Sapporo, but I still managed to get out snowshoeing maybe 15 times. Pretty good for my first season. Hopefully next year will see a return to non El Nino /Global Warming temperatures and I can try out some ever more extreme snowshoeing locations.
Fly fishing is for true men. Hemingway did it and he wasn’t no pussy, right? It’s what all true God-fearing man’s men aspire to become – an honest to goodness, straight out of “A River Runs Through It”, fly fisherman. No time for pansies here. I strap on my waders like Calvin Coolidge on an (at the time) illegal whisky bender. To put it bluntly – I ain’t no sissy.
I have gotten more deeply into fly fishing in the last few years so it was only a matter of time before I began tying my own flies. Here are some of the many super manly tools I needed.
a fly tying vice – nothing says “balls” like a good old vice.
a bobbin – Yep, still manly… as in “Hey Jim, grab me a cold one. And could you re-spool my bobbin for me. The tension on my thread is a bit much.” – completely natural guy talk.
a bobbin threader – Need I explain?
a whip finisher – I don’t want to explain.
hackle pliers – Pliers are cool?
scissors
head cement – OK, this is just a bro smokescreen for “nail polish”.
assorted threads, feathers, furs, and peacock herls
I’ll stop my list right there and just gather myself. I mean this is all for fishing right? Yes, in a way. But when I brought home all these assorted tying tools I found that my wife knew what most of them were for, despite never having picked up a 5 weight. Meanwhile I had to refer to my Fly Tying Bible (that’s a real book folks). That’s when I realized, Fly Tying = Man Sewing.
With that out of the way, let me show you one of my first flies. For now I am keeping it simple, a tenkara fly called an Ishigaki Sakasa Kebari. It consists of just cheap 100 Yen shop black thread, and some lower grade ginger dry fly rooster hackle. You wrap the feather and then tie the base down to push them back in this reverse cone shaped style. It’s not supposed to look like any fly in particular, but in the water the hackle spreads and contracts with the current inducing strikes.
I am in the process of tying more of these types of flies and look forward to using them on some small streams here in Hokkaido. Hopefully I can catch my first iwana (land locked white spotted char) on a fly I tied!
my first fly!! — reverse hackle flies used in tenkara fishing have a distinct profile quite unlike traditional Western flies
For the past three winters I’ve felt that the mountains of Hokkaido were a no-go. Snow and ice made impassible trails that were downright dangerous to even attempt. My wife was even under the misguided belief that the mountain trails were “closed”, i.e. it was illegal to even go there. As preposterous as that sounds, many people in Hokkaido share these assumptions about the dangers of the winter weather. I took them at their word, until now.
With the bitter cold fading away I decided to trek up to the trail head of Mt. Moiwa to see how things looked. To my surprise I encountered quite a few hikers heading up the icy path. They wore crampons, some as simple as a few steel spikes wrapped around their rubber boots, and seemed relatively untroubled by the deeply packed snow they were traversing. I decided then that I would need to get myself some of these “snow spikes” as they are often called.
a simple pair of strap on crampons makes hiking a year round pursuit
A few weeks ago, with some simple lightweight Montbell crampons (compact snow spike) I was able to easily scale the 531 meter Mt. Moiwa. While hating myself for not making that ¥2,000 investment many years ago, I climbed the slippery trail without any issue.
The view from the top of Moiwa seemed more privileged in winter. Only the more hardcore hikers even make the attempt. Cold, windy, and silent – but well worth it!
“Going down is harder than going up!” – this time that ridiculous hiker’s advice held true
Having recently decided as a New Year’s resolution to actually increase my social media presence in the coming year, this book was a particularly frightening depiction of our current enslavement to these powers and the complete eradication of privacy as a cultural norm. Silverman leaves no stone unturned and looks at all the ways in which both social media platforms and the users of them both willingly participate in the wholesale fleecing of nearly every aspect of our personal lives in order to feed the almighty advertisers that keep those very platforms afloat. The future looks even grimmer as technologies become even more embedded in our lives and we the consumers become even more addicted to sharing their data, regardless of the consequences.
One of the best takeaways from Silverman:
John Steinbeck said that poor Americans see themselves as “temporarily embarrassed millionaires.” In the same way, today’s Americans tend to see themselves as unrecognized famous people.
So the real question is what are we all trying to get out of all this sharing? The Internet, as it exist today, is a huge sounding board for our egos. Anonymity is anathema, and unless our every thought/mood/behavior isn’t broadcast immediately it risks being undervalued or worse – not having taken place at all.
Of course, most of readers finding their way to this book won’t be completely surprised by all its revelations. These are the exact reasons I abhorred most social media for quite a few years. So why did I suddenly feel the need to hop back on board? Let me think about that as I post this review to Goodreads, which re-posts it to my personal blog and re-links to my Google+, and is automatically added to my Facebook update feed. That way I am sure this very important review certainly happened!
Winter is now fully here, no turning back this time. Pretty much a constant accumulation of snow, low temperatures, shoveling, and most importantly – snowshoeing, until at least mid March. This past week I’ve gotten to fully field test my Tubbs Wilderness snowshoes as well, as all my other trekking gear, in Asahiyama Park.
Asahiyama, in warmer climes, is often filled with visitors picnicking and enjoying one of the best views of Sapporo (day or night). It’s not a particularly large park, but a myriad of loop trails give the illusion of size and one can easily spend a couple hours wandering. Add about a meter of snow and the park becomes almost completely abandoned; the only sound one hears is the occasional crow and the crunching of snow under crampons.
The trail system is a good mix of gentle inclines and slightly steeper ascents which made for a great test of my heel lift, providing a decent boost especially when going slightly off trail in the deep powder.
There are toilets open in the winter and quite a few rest stops along the trails with thick snow covered benches, which become basically unusable.
Two paths diverged in the wood, and I took the one less traveled
Some of the paths have a narrow trough where the occasional hiker managed to trample through, but there are quite a few sections left untouched that were just asking to be plowed with my size 30 Cobra cleated snowshoes.
At the end of the day, all my gear held up sportingly. One minor inconvenience with my Tubbs was that the front binding straps often come out of the plastic clips meant to keep them out of the way. This is more an aesthetic annoyance and generally occurs on inclined slopes with deep snow. Something I’ll keep an eye on in the coming weeks. Other than that, the Tubbs Wilderness still seems to handle any task presented to them.
Nakajima Park in winter. There’s numerous plowed thoroughfares for pedestrians passing through going about their day. Yet large swathes of it remained untouched due to a deep blanket of snow several feet deep. It wasn’t this way a week ago, but a dip in temperature and a decent accumulation of snow overnight on this past Thursday officially opened up the snowshoeing season on the greater Sapporo metroplex.
Ground Zero – Nakajima Park, Tubbs Snowshoe test
This is the day I have been awaiting since I smuggled my pair of Tubbs Wilderness size 30 snowshoes back from the US in April. A trial run in one of the larger centrally located parks was all that was needed to ensure that my outerwear, gaiters, boots, and snowshoe bindings all work in unison out on the snow. After a few hours putting all that gear through the motions, I am happy to say that they all passed with flying colors. And that’s saying a lot for a guy who is overly finicky about his gear and often subject to buyer’s regret.
Let’s start with the Tubbs Wilderness snowshoe. I was immediately impressed with how easily and comfortably the bindings snapped my boot into place. Just a slight tightening on the front strap and the heel, and I was set. And not once did I have to readjust the bindings! Even the heel binding, which I had read could be a problem when it comes to slippage, held snugly without any concern.
The 180 degree rotational binding allowed me to effortlessly glide atop the deep powder. Since I had never gone snowshoeing before I was wondering about how much time I would need to adjust my gait and re-calibrate my balance. The answer- none – none time needed. I was rolling along at a healthy canter almost immediately. The only time I stumbled was when I crossed up the tail ends on some quick turns, and that was because I literally forgot I was wearing some rather large size 30 snowshoes! That’s how smooth these suckers were.
2 million people in Sapporo and I am the only one to take this route
Which brings me to the most surprising feature, the overall weight. The Wilderness model was far lighter than I could imagine, and although I was mostly working on flat terrain, I experienced very little leg fatigue.
The only drawback is that I noticed some chipping in a few locations on the crampons, but this might have been a factory defect. I am sure they will acquire more chipping as I continue to use them, so just got to ensure I keep them dry after use to avoid rust build up. This might be a common theme of all snowshoe crampons, being just carbon steel with a rust-proof coating, rather than full on stainless steel.
My Sea to Summit Alpine gaiters did there job and kept me completely dry. I was slightly concerned because these particular gaiters run very low towards the bottom of the boot heel, that the snowshoes’ heel bindings might slip when strapped over it. But that absolutely wasn’t a problem and gaiter, boot and snowshoe worked in complete harmony. The only issue I had was getting the front toe lace clip to stay sturdily in place, but with some slight effort I got that squared away (best to put them on before you arrive at the trail head, will save a lot of hassle).
I bought a pair of Vasque Snow Junkies to use specifically with the snowshoes, coming highly recommended for their heel ridges that help to prevent slippage on the heel binding. I sprayed them down with an extra layer of waterproofing, and didn’t experience any leakage issues.Warm, fairly comfortable, and fit smoothly in my patented Tubbs bindings. One minor issue, the stock laces can come undone rather easily, best to keep them double tied. Unfortunately the Snow Junkie seems to have been discontinued from Vasque’s winter line.
All in all a great intro into the fastest growing winter sport worldwide (fact checked). Look forward to getting outside the town and exploring some bigger terrain.
UPDATE: El Nino is a cruel bastard and rained on my snowshoe parade the last few days. Then it iced over, to make an ice rink out of every sidewalk. Hopefully the snow will pickup before Christmas.
Last April I returned from the U.S. with a pair of Tubbs Wilderness snowshoes, acquiring a hefty luggage fee along the way. It was well worth it, since finding snowshoes that suit my weight can be tough in Japan. I’ve been patiently waiting for the snows to come, gathering assorted cold weather gear, and preparing for some great treks.
Unfortunately, the snow has yet to really settle in yet, so another week or two might have to pass until I can strap these babies on:
Also got a sweet pair of heavy duty gaiters from Sea to Summit that should go a long way in keeping me dry.
Some routes have been planned out but preliminary training will be done nearby in Nakajima and Asahiyama park. The big test will be at Nopporo Forest Park, with it’s many long flat trails perfect for snowshoeing.
I didn’t want to do this. A few years ago I consciously uncoupled myself from Facebook, leaving me with just my Google+ account to get all my nerdy Linux/open source tidbits. This worked for me. Google+ reliabley fed me the news I needed without bogging me down with friend requests and 4 year old ballet recital videos. I thought that was it for me. I didn’t need anymore.
But like an early 20th century merchant marine crawling through the opium dens of Canton, I returned to the angry fix that is Social Media.
Back on Facebook, where I learn from a distance about everything from toddler fashion to who likes Donald Trump (a little too much). It’s not all bad. Fortunately I’ve learned how to filter out the riffraff.
But Facebook wasn’t enough for this discerning gentleman. So I plowed full bore into Twitter, started following a few dozen like minded Tweeters, and even sent one lonely Tweet out into the universe.(about a Raspberry Pi project I am tinkering with)
So there you have it. You’re welcome to follow this site’s Twitter feed @snowsoversappor (damn you Twitter and your 15 character limitations!)
I’ve tried my share of Happoshu and Happosei in my time and after trial and error have finally found one that I can live with. Sapporo’s Mugi To Hop Aka (麦とホップ赤, “Barley and Hops -Red) is the middle ground between its dark (kuro) variety and its standard happosei. A medium hue with a decent robust taste, this 5% alcohol not quite fully beer/liqueur checks all my boxes: cheap, drinkable, made by Sapporo.
This past year I have reinvigorated my old fly fishing hobby, changing from an occational undertaking to an addiction that I devote myself to nearly everyday. I won’t be out on the water everyday, not even every week, but I am constantly learning about the art of fly fishing through books and other online resources including podcasts(yes, there are fly fishing podcasts – and I listen to them – frequently).
Since I don’t own a car I have relied on a friend to get me to some wonderful rivers and lakes in this region of Hokkaido. With a car you can haul all your gear (waders, vest) and not have to worry about weight. But should I need to strike out on my own, on bicycle, I need a lighter setup.
This past summer I started wet wading some of the upper reaches of the Toyohira River, the primary watershed for Sapporo City. Rumors in blog posts abound about anglers catching ヤマメ(yamame, landlocked cherry salmon) and rainbow trout in the Toyohira’s 源流 (genryu, headwaters). So I busted out my best Japanese translating skills, poured over Google Maps, and have set off on numerous hour long bike treks outside the city center in the quest for a decent stretch of trout holding water.
I pack one box of flies, 2 or 3 spools of tippet (4X-6X), my snippets, fly floatant, and plenty of drinking water. I strap my rod tube to the side of my pack, put my wet wading shoes in my bicycles basket and hit the road.
I’ve set out on about three such fishing excursions, and although I’ve only managed to catch three or four ウグイ(Japanese Dace, a common baitfish), it’s been fun to get on the water within the city limits. The best part is the lack of people, so my 10,000 Yen investment in Mont Bell’s サワトレク boots was well worth it. Japan has a long tradition of waterfall trekking/climbing and these boots are made for serious “Shower Climbing”, as the English translation calls 沢登り（sawanobori). My feet become complete magnets on slippery rocks so I can get to tight spots safely.
Since the headwaters can turn into very tight small streams, fully utilizing my fly rod and line is almost futile. Usually I use extremely short casts and often high stick my leader through short runs and tiny pools. It works fine but a telescoping tenkara rod might be even better, and I can definitely see another purchase on the horizon.
