Skiing steamy Zao Onsen in Japan, so much more than a snow monster’s lair

What is a snow monster and why all the fuss? Around December every year, Siberian winds tempest across the Sea of Japan, smashing into the range in Tohoku region on the north of Honshu (the main island). Layer by layer, exposed native fir trees on Zao Onsen’s Jizo Peak (1736m) are wind-glazed with snow, ice and freezing condensation, forming “shrimp tails” as some locals call them.

Snow-laden tree limbs bend theatrically, transforming the massive figures into whatever your imagination wants them to be, sort of like seeing bunny rabbits and dragons in passing clouds.

The phenomenon also occurs at fellow-Tohoku resort (and tree-skiing nirvana) Mount Hakkoda, further north. Generally monster-spotting season peaks in late winter, around mid-February to mid-March, at the whim of Shinto snow deity Kuraokami naturally, who is usually pretty generous in what is one of Japan’s snowiest regions (12 metres a year by some accounts).

But be warned, skiing off-piste among the spooky snow monsters is “officially taboo” at Zao Onsen. Riding is prohibited in the ‘Juhyo’ area on the upper slopes to preserve the trees, says Tatefumi Nishizuka, its Tourism Directive Manager. He suggests a handful of sanctioned ways to frolic with these glorious freaks of nature.

The on-piste Juhyogen Course skirts the area before funneling almost ten-kilometres down to the village. There are guided snowshoe and snowcat tours, too, and a viewing area at Jizo Sancho Station, the two-part Zao Ropeway’s mountain-top terminal. Come nightfall, the “ice monsters” here are lit up in trippy green, pink and peach-coloured lights.

While the snow monsters attract about half of Zao Onsen’s visitors, you’re probably impatiently wondering what this mountain is like to ski on. There are 28 lifts, three ropeways and one cable car – servicing 14 slopes – in this distinctly two-sided resort.

The parallel Zao Sky Cable and Zau Chuo Ropeway, which both exude a Japan-boom-times chic, feed runs on the north side. The Chuo Area sports wide and scenic beginner and intermediate runs with fast-evaporating lift lines (I was there mid-week). Arguably both gondolas don’t really go high enough up the mountain, making for a relatively energetic traverse-fest if you want to see the snow monsters or cross the mountain.

You can access Zao’s more south side by cutting into Juhyogen Course (from the Paradise Pair lift) or from the central village below on the Zao Ropeway, where you’ll be competing with sightseers at peak times, or via a network of smaller lifts.

The reasonably priced daily lift ticket covers all of these bases: JPY7500/AUD 80. Utopia and Yokokura areas have similarly wide-open greens and reds [blues], with the odd more challenging run, like 30-degree ‘Omori Wall’.

The forested valleys and ridges in between Zao’s halves look oh-so tempting but again, officially, you can only ride through trees that are designated ski runs. Keep in mind, too, that while Zao is seriously pretty on bluebird days, it’s prone to snow-monster-friendly ‘big weather’ events. Before exploring, seek local advice from guides, who speak reasonable English, at Zao Base Center, where you can also pick up rentals.

The village is simultaneously petite and spread out; pretty walkable once you get your bearings and find the shortcuts. Its quiet streets are perpetually enveloped in steamy, sulphury onsen air.

Dip into the (claimed) healing waters at three snow-caked public onsens, which are more tattoo tolerant than in less-touristed towns (small entrance fees/bring your own towel). Tattoos in Japan were traditionally associated with the Yakuza (crime gangs) and particularly older generation Japanese may show aversion or fear if you show up in an onsen with large tattoos, so be respectful.

Many ryokans have their own springs and there are six day-spas in town, although the largest of the outdoor baths is closed during winter.

Zao Onsen is the antithesis of ski areas like Niseko, with low-key nightlife and restaurants that you don’t need to book days ahead. A stroll along Takayu Street is onsen-town utopia; a traditional Shinto shrine stands above a peaceful, lane-way-esque shopping strip of small boutiques selling locals treats (mochi and sake), and intimate places to eat (Okumura for soba noodles) and drink (Bar Spur for local/international wines). The free public foot and hand onsens are a wonderful respite for numb digits, too.

Zao Central is more touristy without being tacky: a smattering of ski and souvenir shops, and a well-patroned Lawson convenience store, in close proximity to the ropeway. Locals selling their local produce, giant apples and roasted sweet potatoes, quickly reminds you that this is still very much regional Japan.

With no high-end generic hotel chains, Zoa’s accommodation is an assortment of smaller scale ski hotels, a bevy of traditional inns, such as Takamiya Ryokan Miyamaso, and budget friendlier pensions. Some are genuine ski-in-ski-out options, but many require a short walk or shuttle ride to reach the lifts.

I stayed at Oak Hill, a split-level hotel with a fireplace’d common area and light-luring two-storey windows framing giant icicles and powder-plump trees. It caters to locals as much as foreign guests, with its hot-spring bath and Tatami-mat-floored rooms, some with Western ensuites. Don’t worry, staff will roll out your futon for you, if you ask. Oak Hill’s restaurant serves delish multi-course Japanese fare and there’s even a mini-Karaoke bar, Cinderella, which fortunately/unfortunately closes before midnight.

Tohuku might seem further away than your usual go-to’s but Zao Onsen is just a two-and-half hour Shinkansen, from Tokyo Station to Yamagata city, followed by a bus, which winds its way up through cute villages for 40 minutes. (The bus departs from the station hourly but can’t be pre-booked)

There’s just ‘something’ about Zao. I love its intangible, era-spanning aesthetic, kind of feudal Japan meets Japanese Jindabyne.

Dark-wood onsens and red torii gates on one steamy street. Late 20^th century lodges, with an almost a Soviet-era aura, collapsing under the weight of snow on the next. You certainly won’t be the only Aussie here – it’s been on the radar of next-cool-place-seekers for a while – but this town still delivers a charming ‘Japanese’ ski experience, well worth the smidgen of compromise needed. If you’re going to come here, come soon.

The writer was a guest of JNTO.