I’ve been skiing ever since I lived in the U.S.
In winter, we’d often head to ski resorts somewhere around Vermont (if I remember correctly).
I was put into ski school, and off I went down the slopes.
Back then, in the kids’ classes, we weren’t given ski poles to practice with. (No idea why.)
So there I was, learning to balance without poles, turning here and there as best as I could.
But what I remember most clearly? The pure thrill of bombing straight down the slope, full-speed!
I guess kids haven’t fully developed that sense of fear yet, so I’d crouch low to cut the wind resistance—and just fly.
It felt amazing!
…Now, if someone told me to try that again as an adult who knows fear? No thank you. Nope. Not happening.
After that, I’d still go to the mountains from time to time, just casually.
I could ski, kind of? That level.
But everything changed when I joined a ski and snowboard club in college.
(Actually, “changed” might not be the right word. Let’s say my life veered off course instead.)
That’s when I met snowboarding for the very first time.
People always say I look athletic (total misconception), but in reality? I’m not. At all.
So while others picked it up quickly, I had to practice way more than most.
I may not be athletic, but I am stubbornly competitive.
I practiced and practiced, and finally got to an average level.
But I loved the challenge so much. It was new, exciting, and seriously fun.
I couldn’t wait to get better.
And sure enough, I fell deep into the snowboarding rabbit hole… and never looked back.
After graduating college, I skipped the whole “job hunting” thing and started my snowbound life—hopping around wherever the snow was.
My best friend had already moved out to Niigata to snowboard, and I basically just followed.
For the next three years, I chased the snow.
Summers in Switzerland. Winters in Hokkaido.
I’d work hard during spring and fall to save money, then head off again.
In summer, I stayed in a little Swiss town called Saas-Fee, from July to September.
It’s straight out of a Heidi storybook—seriously breathtaking.
I’d snowboard every day at a halfpipe up around 3,600 meters above sea level. (That’s about as high as Mt. Fuji!)
The air up there is super thin—about 1/10th the oxygen compared to sea level.
But because the glacier snow lasts year-round, and the sun is so close, you ride in a T-shirt.
I’d get an open 90-day airline ticket (those used to be a thing!) through airlines like Malaysia or Singapore Air and just go.
I stayed in a condo, cooked all my own meals, and ate cheap to stretch my budget.
In the winter, I lived in Sapporo from December to April, snowboarding at local spots like Makomanai and Sapporo Kokusai.
A group of us rented a house together and cooked every day.
With barely any money, we lived on rice, natto, and yukari (a kind of rice seasoning), and snowboarded like crazy.
I’ve got a ton more stories from that part of my life, but I’ll save those for another time.
After I became a mom, I didn’t get to go to the mountains as much.
Still, I’ve taken my daughter a few times.
Naturally, I started her with skis—it’s just easier to learn.
Eventually, I brought out my snowboard too. (Skiing and parenting at the same time is just too hard, honestly.)
And this March, after years, we went back!
We hit up GALA Yuzawa Ski Resort.
These days, I don’t care about fancy gear—rented everything except my outerwear.
As long as I can ride, that’s enough!
(Back in the day, I obsessed over every little piece of equipment, though.)
I used to love the cold, but now? Not so much…
So spring skiing it is!
The weather wasn’t great—just a cloudy sky, and we couldn’t see much of the mountains.
But still, feeling the snow under my feet again? It was amazing.
I had such a great time!
My daughter can ski just fine now, so even with just a half-day lift pass, we got in plenty of runs.
She definitely inherited her athleticism from her dad—not me.
She picked up stem turns and then parallel turns in no time.
Lucky her!
We may butt heads a lot (as most moms and daughters do),
but sharing these fun moments together makes me so happy.
She usually refuses to take pictures with me (or of me)…
but I beg: “Please, for your mom’s future happiness! Just take one!”
I want to look back one day—when she’s all grown up and out in the world—and smile at the memories.
“Ahh, I remember that trip. We went there together. That was fun…”
That kind of moment, sipping coffee, lost in nostalgia.
(I don’t drink alcohol at all, so it’s always either coffee or a big glass of icy Mitsuya Cider for me.)
Every now and then, being back on the slopes brings out this buried craving for snow.
My body doesn’t move the way it used to, but in my mind, I’m still the same girl running around in snowboard boots.
Put on the gear, pull on a beanie, and I can’t help but sprint through the snow again!
I hope we can hit the slopes again next winter or spring.
I really do.
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