A weak yen, a niche, and taking on the ski world from Japan
Skiing abroad has gotten brutal. Prices three to four times what they are at home — your wallet empties in an instant.
Meanwhile, the world's famous skiers keep pouring into Japan. The weak yen, the powder, the FIS points — they're coming from everywhere.
The Far East Cup (the official FIS races out here in the far east) is packed with foreign athletes now — drawn by the powder, the racing calendar, and yes, the weak yen. My fellow coaches call it, with a wry grin, the "Inbound Cup" or the "Points-Farming Series." (Half a joke — half genuinely stung, of course.)
But honestly? I'm proud. It's proof the world has decided Japan is worth skiing. Strong rivals showing up raises our level, too. Why wouldn't we welcome that?
Everyone falls for Japanese snow — JAPOW — and takes it home. But there's one more thing I secretly hope they carry back: Japanese culture, and a way of seeing.
The one I most want to share is kintsugi — the Japanese craft of mending a broken vessel with gold lacquer. The fascinating part is that it doesn't hide the damage. It traces the cracks in gold and calls the whole thing — broken history and all — beautiful, a kind of landscape.
That's exactly my aesthetic. I don't chase factory-fresh perfection all that much. The flavor comes out in things that have been used, scarred, adjusted again and again. Tools, skis — I think of them as things you raise. The more time and care you pour in, the more value they gain.
Engineering where you patch like crazy after launch. That homemade device of mine looks like a science-fair project gone rogue. But I don't hide the scars or the awkwardness. Just like kintsugi, there's a "flavor" in there that no big company's mass production can reproduce.
The weak yen carried the world right to my doorstep. And from Japan, I'll keep taking on the world's ski scene. A small individual — but I compete with the value I've raised.
Is there something you've spent years "raising"? I'd love to hear it on Instagram.
