Sport-heute: Sailing

07. November 2009, 18:12

JAPAN SNOW

Story by Joe Prebich

In order to understand the beauty of Japan, you need to get California. It’s February and the winter weather that has beaten back most of the country barely graces even the most remote corners of California. Seasons are seen in shades of green and you can tell the time by the traffic.

Brüttisellen, 6.11.09 (mk) In many ways it is paradise. A sanctuary of sadism, where the punishment comes in the form of gas guzzling SUV’s, gridlocked freeways and a distinctive yellow haze that floats above the city. Think Gotham City, but sunnier. This is where our story begins, on a dirty street in Hollywood, California, in a hotel made famous by Jim Belushi’s corpse, and who on February 13, was playing host to an incredible scene.

February 13, 2008:
Shaun White is barely awake. Only in California are the clouds the bluest shade of grey. It is still relatively early, around 9am and the distinct noises of a city awakening are beginning to trickle in through the windows at the Chateau Marmont. Sleeping is one of those things that can grab hold of some people and never let go. This morning Shaun is in its stranglehold. His phone has been screaming at him for the past hour, and finally he locates it. Ten missed calls-five new text messages. It never stops. Shaun is on his way to the other side of the world today-Japan. More specifically, the north island of Hokkaido.

He is heading there with a crew from Red Bull, including fellow Red Bull riders Pat Moore, Heikki Sorsa and Zach Leach. They were bound for the secret stashes of Japanese legend and Shaun was stoked. All powder, no halfpipe for a bit and some quality time with his friends on the road. But first he had to check his messages.

Message 1: Sent: 7:30am
“Yo, you ready to do this!”

Message 2: Sent: 7:33am
“Hey, my flight was just canceled. Call me”

Message 3: Sent: 7:50am
“Did I leave my panties?”

Message 4: Sent: 8:12am
“Are you at the airport yet?”

Message 5: Sent: 8:42am
“You are going to miss the flight!!”

The last message had Shaun up and out of bed in a flash. Instantly he went into travel mode, throwing everything in sight into his suitcase. Clothes, boards, gear, goggles and as he was packing, he hits dial and my phone explodes.

“Where are you!”
“In Hollywood, I thought the flight was tonight!” said Shaun.
“No dude, our flight leaves at 10:30am!”
“Oh, Sh*t!”

He was off the phone and running through the lobby in an instant, board bag in tow he was flying- dodging people, guests, tourists, everyone. No time for autographs. Cabbie, grab one, go! He flags the Yellow Falcon, packs his bags and jumps in. “Can you get me to LAX in 20 minutes!” All it took was a few crumpled C-notes and he was off!

Bounding over the back roads, the Yellow Falcon screamed through the suburbs. Dancing through the lines of traffic and in and out of on coming cars. The Yellow Falcon truly soared. Not a pothole or a traffic light could hold her back. Meanwhile in the backseat, Shaun is just enjoying the ride. The harsh squawk of LA’s incestuous talk radio scene blaring through the Falcon’s speakers as if the driver was somehow empowered by their unending criticisms.

Whipping around curves and punching it through straight-aways, the giant concrete behemoth that is Los Angeles International Airport came looming into view sooner than expected. The Yellow Falcon had done it and Shaun was out of the cab and into a sprint before it had even stopped moving. He was at a full run by the time he made it to the check in. He had 5 min; he might just make it. The agent checked his gear, then ran him to security. The TSA didn’t know what had hit them as a mop of sweating red hair raced through their ranks and before they could say, “Strip search!” Shaun was back into a full blown run. I met him at the top of stairs and we booked it to the gate.

We spotted our flight and the agents were ready for us. Our giant United 767 was still parked as if awaiting our arrival. We scanned the tickets, found our seats and finally took a breath. It was 10:12am. If this was a pre-cursor to the rest of the trip, (and it was) it was going to be one to remember. As the stewardess asked for our drink order and the engines fired up, we all relaxed. Next stop Tokyo!

--
As everyone sleeps, here is a little bit about why we were heading to Japan in the first place. Known throughout the snowboard world as a powder mecca, Japan’s north island of Hokkaido is a place where snowboarders go not just to get the shot, but to get the faceshots as well. It is a transformation from all things Western to a culture and a lifestyle that has been in existence for more than 10,000 years. And when you take this caliber of riders: Pat Moore, Heikki Sorsa, Shaun White and Zach Leach and bring them out of their elements, you begin to learn more about them as people-as friends.

The idea was to get dropped off in Hokkaido and make it work. Find the snow, get the story and see the world. As we began to descend for out Tokyo touchdown, our Captain said that it was raining, a good sign for snow to the North. The flight crew gave us the regular last minute landing instructions, but what they should have told us about the culture shock! It was a whole different day when we landed in Japan, or more like a whole different world.

--
What can you say about Tokyo that will do it justice? Probably nothing. Sure, there were masses of people, and strangers that were of the strangest strange we had ever seen. There were women, and then there were cat women (girls actually acting like cats). Underground Yakuza clan or crusty local drunk, we didn’t have a clue. For now, Tokyo will stay mysterious.

But we were out; gone on the first flight to Hokkaido, and setting wheels down in the remote tundra, it felt like we were trapped inside a snow globe, but it was here that the trip finally started. The Far East is even more far out when you are this far gone. We were exactly 7,000 miles from where this adventure began, that’s 36,960,000 feet from reality and it’s only been 20 hours! Oh, and what day was it again…

From the airport our crew was finally assembled into a van, baggage packed and loaded; we were off to a remote mountain lodge buried in an area known as, “The Playground of the Gods”. And it truly was a fitting name. After three hours in the cramped quarters, we began to climb and soon we were alone, a singular van ascending into oblivion. We passed nothing but snowflakes on our drive up and upon reaching the summit; we were greeted with a blizzard of sorts-snow, fish, squid, volcano. Disoriented and disheveled, the Ryounkaku lodge was to be out home for the next week. The beds were not beds, they were small blankets on the floor, the bathroom was a geothermic hot spring-where showering consisted of sitting on a bucket while a Japanese guy stared at you. The toilet was IN the floor. It was weird, but it was good. At least it was different.

We awoke on our first morning to a vision that gave me the intense inspiration to compose some kind of classical music. The mountains were orchestral, horseshoed into an expansive valley and flanked by a live volcano. The lodge sat alone, peaked on the very end of the earth it seemed.

The previous night’s snowfall had left us with a fresh layer of about three feet and everyone was ready to ride. But this wasn’t your typical resort where you get the free lift ticket and go for it. Mornings were prepped with beacon training and tightening our snowshoes down, which quickly became one of the most precious pieces of equipment. From here on out, we hike to everything!

As Pat, Heikki, Shaun and Zach all stepped out into the alpine; the sun burst through the clouds and everything was illuminated. The jet lag-gone; the crazy fish swimming around in our stomachs-settled; the moment-amazing! All the travel, all the time, all the planning and we had literally fallen into the perfect moment. As far as crowds; it was only us. No ropes to duck, no boundaries, just the lightest snow in the world and only friends to share it with.

Over the next week the Red Bull crew scoped, sessioned and hiked throughout the “Playground of the Gods”. We walked in places it felt like no one had ever tread. We rode areas where adjectives simply don’t do their job. It was sweat work, grunt work, but really it wasn’t work. For most of the crew, the season by this point, had been a long one- contest, film trip, contest, film trip-if snowboarding can become routine-up until Japan-it had. But life slowed down on the North Island.

In the age of global communication it gets pretty easy to never unplug. To literally always have a bead on what is going on in the world, your world. This was not Japan. Here, communication was in words, face-to-face and often through broken English. It was in high fives and congratulatory shouts. It was through the moments of silence when saying nothing meant that everyone understood exactly what you meant. The program we were on was amazing: wake up, shred, hike, shred, hike, shred, hot spring, sleep!

Soon it would be back to the real world. To phone calls and emails and texts and girlfriends and sponsors and all that clutter. Which is fine-that’s life. But being able to check out, to interact and to leave the craziness behind for something as pure as having fun in the middle of nowhere with your friends is a feeling that takes you by surprise, but in the end rewards you with something huge.

After we left the lodge, and for the remainder of our two-week trip, phones rang, emails were returned and Facebook pages were updated. We were back on the grid. But for a while, everything was perfect-we were living the dream! Unfortunately, like any dream, you eventually have to wake up. Only problem is that after you’ve lived a dream, reality can seem just a little too real.

Shaun White:
This was Shaun’s 27th time to Japan! But never before had he been able to get off the beaten path and experience everything that Japan has to offer. Everyday he hiked, shoveled, boot-packed and sweated for the good of the crew. It was a learning experience. How to read a mountain, how to judge a landing, these are things that halfpipe contests don’t teach you. Shaun proved himself out there. He turned his competitive contest drive to landing in powder, airing off cliffs and trusting in his friends. In an age of helis, snowmobiles and private cats-arguably the world’s best snowboarder walked his ass everywhere! It means something to take two weeks out of his crazy year to stomp around in snowshoes in the backcountry of Japan, working hard to get the shot everyday. Shaun took himself and unplugged. And in true Shaun White fashion, he came out on top of his game! “This was the deepest snow I have ever ridden!” –Shaun

Pat Moore:
Pat Moore loves to snowboard. He never tired or complained. Everyday there would be new snow and he would be more excited than the day before. He would hike all day, break for lunch, come in, change clothes and go back out. Wet, soaking wet, freezing cold, Pat rides hard all day, everyday. Pat belongs on a snowboard. He is never afraid to fail, and he is always learning new tricks, like how to ride with a hangover!

Heikki Sorsa:
Heikki is a perfect example of evolution. Think back to 2002, there was a crazy Finnish kid blasting bigger than anyone else in the world. The scene was the Park City Olympics and Heikki was on fire in the halfpipe! Often people forget that Heikki has done so much and evolved so quickly. Even before his Olympic halfpipe mohawk, Heikki was in the record books for breaking Ingmar Backman’s world record in 2001 for highest air on a quarterpipe, blasting to 29ft! And now he is effortless in the backcountry, throwing down banger video parts. Skilled beyond his years, Heikki puts it down, every time.

Zach Leach:
Zach is the veteran of the crew. Team manager, shredder, Zach is a coach only in the sense that people ask him to hit it first…and he does! A career that has spanned from Kingpin video parts to backcountry splitboard action! In Japan Zach was more than just determined, he was The Determinator!

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JAPAN SNOW

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