Experiences – Life – Inspiration 🇨🇭🇯🇵

Winter in Gifu hits a bit different than winter in the Netherlands or Switzerland.

In the Netherlands, winter always felt like a long, grey hesitation. Not quite cold enough to be magical. Not quite warm enough to be comfortable. In Switzerland, winter was familiar territory. Snow meant ski resorts, well prepared roads, a certain order and rhythm. Winter had a structure.

Japan feels different.

Here, winter feels more like a mood than a season. Snow does not just decorate the landscape. It transforms it. Roads disappear. Villages become quiet islands. Steam rises from onsen into cold mountain air. And suddenly, a simple drive turns into a small expedition.

My wife and I are planning to drive into the Central and Northern Alps this winter. We want to seek out snowy landscapes, stay at onsen ryokans, see frozen waterfalls, maybe visit one of the winter matsuri that usually happen around mid to late February. I will probably go skiing by myself since my wife does not ski, but the journey itself is something we share.

To do that, we need winter tires and snow chains. Not as an option. As a necessity.

Otherwise it is simply too dangerous and, honestly, irresponsible.

That sentence alone already says a lot about me. I am fairly risk averse. And I am a bit of a control freak too. I do not like to “just see how it goes” when it comes to mountains, weather, and cars. I like preparation. I like checklists. I like knowing that I did what I could before trusting the rest to chance.

So we already bought the snow chains. And before we go anywhere near real snow, I will practice mounting and unmounting them at home.

Some people seek adventure by jumping into the unknown. I prefer to prepare for it first.

Last winter, I drove to Shirakawago and at some point simply could not continue. The road ahead was completely snowed shut. There was no drama. No danger. Just the quiet realization that the landscape had decided where my journey would end that day.

That memory is still very present.

The funny thing is that the thought of mounting snow chains brings back much older memories. When I was a child, my dad used to take me to the mountains by car in Switzerland. Back then, snow chains were made of heavy metal. Putting them on was a ritual. Cold fingers. Stiff hands. And once you started driving, the noise was incredible. It sounded and felt like driving a small tank. Everything rattled. Everything vibrated. You did not forget that you were on snow chains.

I am very curious how these modern chains will feel. Most of them are made of rubber now. I assume they are quieter, gentler, and less destructive than the chains from the 1980s. Probably also less dramatic. But maybe that is just nostalgia talking.

In a strange way, this feels both new and very familiar at the same time.

I have driven in the Swiss and French Alps many times. Snowy mountain roads are not new to me. But doing this in Japan is different. The roads are narrower. The mountains feel wilder. The villages feel more remote. And somehow, everything feels a little more final once you pass a certain point.

There is also something symbolic about snow chains.

You do not put them on by accident. You stop. You get out of the car. You kneel down. You take your time. And when you are done, you know that you are crossing into a different world. From normal roads into winter territory.

The chains are not just for traction. They are a small, conscious decision to continue.

I think that is what I am really excited about. Not just the snow. Not just the onsen. Not just the frozen waterfalls or the festivals. But that feeling of slowly, deliberately moving into a different version of the world.

I will probably still be cautious. I will probably still drive a bit too carefully. I will probably still double check everything. That is just who I am.

But somewhere between putting on those chains and watching steam rise from an onsen in the cold mountain air, I know there will be a quiet moment where preparation turns into presence.

Some adventures do not start when you arrive.

Some of them start much earlier.

Sometimes, they start when you kneel down in your driveway and practice putting snow chains on your tires.