2006 is the year I decided to go to Japan to ride powder. I'm from the French Alps and had lived in Australia for decades. So I asked an ex-pro snowboarder about it, and his answer filled me with excitement. "Mate, forget about Hakuba and Niseko — go to Furano instead. There's nobody there and the powder is untouched."

So I did my research and booked a room between the Furano side and Kitanomine. The day we arrived was spectacular. It snowed from Chitose to Furano non-stop. It was 5pm and 30cm of the lightest snow was already there.

We asked the guy at the front desk to drive us to the resort. He said he had never witnessed snowboarders so stoked that they had to go riding straight away. That evening started a friendship with Seki that lasted many years — until he eventually left that place.

Deep in Furano's Backcountry — Deep in Furano’s backcountry

It was just us and the powder that evening. Then we discovered Tomamu, Kamui Ski Links and Asahidake — with absolutely no foreigners. I simply couldn't believe it.

But as you know, things change. In 2018 we scored 8 days of continuous snowfall — storm after storm — and on the 9th day, amazing sunshine. Then, after Covid, the crowds appeared in Furano in 2023. Skiers and snowboarders with speakers on their backpacks in the gondola, talking loudly and being rough with each other.

The backcountry was still relatively untouched and to this day the terrain is amazing — steep and deep. But the feeling had shifted.

We already knew Kamui, so Asahikawa seemed the natural next step. I wanted easy access to restaurants and bars where very little English was spoken. I wanted to discover new terrain with no competition for fresh lines. Well, after a handful of years we are still discovering spots that are hard to find even on the web.

Let's be frank — I don't mind a bit of corduroy, but untouched powder is why every resort around Asahikawa appeals to me and my guests. Some are coming back year after year, and that genuinely stokes me out.

Now, I'd like to share something I witnessed a few years back while waiting for the next gondola at Asahidake. A group of skiers from my home country were talking amongst themselves, and one of them said: "We've done it all — Georgia, Gulmarg, Chamonix, and now Asahidake. Honestly, I'm not that impressed. Where next? We've done it all."

We're all different, of course. But in my mind I thought — mate, you're missing the point entirely.

Powder here is not just another item on a bucket list. There is a quietness and an overall atmosphere in the forests of Hokkaido that holds the greatest appeal — for me and for my guests. It's not always the steepest or the deepest. It's the quality, the remoteness, and the silence that together create an experience so uncommon it's almost impossible to describe to someone who hasn't felt it.

No other place compares. The off-season is spent thinking about that very special time and that very special place. Sharing that knowledge — watching guests feel it for the first time — is what stokes me further, year after year.

The 2027 season is just around the corner. Isn't it?

Why I Never Went to Niseko or Hakuba — And why I’m Going Somewhere Else Nowadays