Sitting around the sunken irori hearth on the skin of a bear while listening to Oriyama-san talk about the culture of northern Akita’s Matagi hunters, I thought to myself, “This is exactly the side of Japan that I signed up to promote.” Crudely authentic and deeply immersive, this is the style of travel that I crave most, that kind of trip that transcends the boundaries of commodified tourism and plants you directly into the local culture. Turning my attention back to the lecture on the Matagi and my poorly made kiritanpo roasting by the irori hearth in front of me, I felt fully in alignment with my mission to show this part of Japan to the world. This experience (and what was to come tomorrow) was exactly what travel should be.
Now, as I’ve said before on this Japan travel blog, northern Akita Prefecture is not for the faint of heart. It is remote, rather hard to get to, and still mostly undeveloped for tourism in comparison to Japan’s better-known locales. However, it is precisely because of these factors that northern Akita is so alluring. Unlike the more mainstream parts of Japan, you’ll see no overtourism up here in this part of the prefecture. Prone to harsh, snowy winters, northern Akita Prefecture has birthed a hardy and unique culture that has an authenticity to it that is hard to find elsewhere. In comparison to mainstays like Kyoto and its overly crowded ilk, the city of Odate and the neighboring towns and villages have a soul to them that makes them feel all the more “real.”
In terms of why travelers ought to step so far off the beaten path and come up to northern Akita, the reasons are in abundance. First and foremost, there’s the famous Ani Matagi group of sustenance hunters who do things just as they have since the old days. Though best known for hunting bears, the Matagi only hunt during the legally permitted season, which generally runs from November through February or early March depending on conditions. During this time, bears are targeted before hibernation or shortly after they awaken. Outside of the hunting season, the Matagi spend their time gathering edible wild plants, fishing in the region’s crystal-clear rivers, and living in close relationship with the forests that sustain them. More of a lifestyle than a career, the Matagi hunters of northern Akita live a life that is in harmony with the land.
Of course, the Matagi aren’t the only reason to consider adding Akita’s northernmost extremes to your next Japan itinerary. There is simply so much to see in this part of the country. From the so-called “Snow Monsters” (or juhyo in Japanese) up at the summit of Mt. Moriyoshi to the Akita Inu Visitor Center and the birthplace of the faithful dog Hachiko, whose statue sits outside Shibuya Station, there are so many attractions on offer up here. So, ditch the well-worn path that the rest of travelers default to and come explore northern Akita Prefecture on your next Japan trip.
How to Get There
Before we dive into how you can experience Matagi culture and traditions or see the snow monsters of Mt. Moriyoshi, let’s take a quick second to cover some key logistics. As noted, it is not easy to traverse this part of Japan, and wayward souls looking to come to northern Akita need to do some planning in advance. By far, the most expedient means of getting up here is to take a flight to Odate-Noshiro Airport in Kitaakita City. This will get you up to the northern part of Akita Prefecture in just over an hour, assuming you’re coming from Haneda Airport in Tokyo. From there, it’s best to get yourself a rental car if having your own set of wheels is an option for you.
As should come as no surprise to readers of this blog, I personally prefer traveling by train. And while it is a challenging part of Japan to explore by public transportation alone, it is in fact doable. To begin, you’re going to need to get yourself up to Tohoku, and seeing as you’ll be riding a lot of trains, I highly suggest getting yourself a JR East Pass (Tohoku Area). For less than the price of the round-trip fare to and from Shin-Aomori Station, holders of this amazing ticket can ride any and all JR East trains in the region for no additional cost. It’s one of those passes that is so affordable that you need to seriously question the sanity of the person who set its pricing so low.
Anyway, northern Akita can be approached via one of two ways. You can either opt to come down from Aomori via Hirosaki Station or work your way up from the capital city of Akita Prefecture. I’ll detail some sound add-ons in the “Other Nearby Attractions” section at the end of this article, but you’ll want to refer to a service like Jorudan to calculate train departures. Simply put, trains come once every few hours in this beautiful and bucolic part of the country, and missing one means that you’re going to fall far behind on your travel plans. The rural regions of Japan are indeed amazing, but you need to understand what to expect from public transportation in the countryside so that you don’t get stuck.
Finally, know that travel in an area like northern Akita is subject to the weather conditions. Whether you opt to take the train or fly in, you are at the whims of mother nature regardless. When I visited last, it was during one of the worst snow storms of the last century. And while I ultimately was able to somehow get from Hirosaki Station down through the mountains to Odate Station, it was quite the endeavor, as I recounted here. While Japanese public transportation is really reliable, you need to know how to travel in the countryside so that you don’t march right into a logistical nightmare.
Eating Bear Meat with Matagi Hunters
One of the best experiences I had in northern Akita, and indeed all of Japan, was staying at Oriyamake, a guest house run by Oriyama Hideyuki, one of the youngest active Matagi in the region. Born and raised in Akita, Oriyama-san once left for Tokyo to pursue a career in video production, only to find himself pulled back home after the 2011 earthquake exposed just how disconnected city life had made him from self sufficiency. Not long after returning, he was introduced to the world of the Matagi and gradually immersed himself in their traditions. Today, he runs Oriyamake as both a welcoming guest house and as a way to preserve and share a culture that is quietly fading from the mountains of Ani as future generations forego the ways of the past.
On the first day, we gathered around the sunken hearth to make kiritanpo from scratch, molding the mashed rice around skewers before toasting them over the open flame. The rhythmic turning of the rice over the fire felt almost meditative, and before long the room carried that faint smoky aroma that only an irori can produce. There was something grounding about preparing the meal ourselves rather than simply being served, especially knowing that this kind of communal cooking has long been part of life in the mountains. Later, as we sat down around the fire to enjoy the meal we had just prepared, snow quietly piling up outside, Oriyama-san began to tell us about the history of the Matagi and how their culture took root in these mountains centuries ago.
He spoke of their spiritual relationship with the surrounding peaks, the rituals performed before and after hunts in honor of the mountain gods and deities, and the traditional tools like the nagasa (a machete-knife) they still carry into the forest today. He explained how a hunt is organized under the leadership of a shikari, with each member assigned a specific role, and how once a bear is taken, a ritual called kebokai is performed to return its spirit to the gods of the mountains. Passing around items used in the field and describing how morobi fir branches are burned to purify hunters before entering the forest, he brought the culture to life in a way no museum display ever could. Hearing these stories firsthand, in a Matagi home, from a Matagi himself, was about as immersive as it gets.
The next morning, we donned kanjiki (traditional Japanese snowshoes) and followed Oriyama-san out into the mountains. Each member of our group was handed a nagasa, a walking stick called a matagibo, and given a bear pelt to strap on and sit upon during breaks, a practical reminder of the life sustained by these forests. Crunching through deep snow under a pale winter sky, we trekked for about an hour before arriving at a simple campsite tucked among the trees. There, Oriyama-san prepared bear meat yakiniku that he had hunted himself, along with a steaming pot of bear nabe that warmed us from the inside out. Eating wild game in the very mountains it came from, surrounded by the silence of the forest, drove home just how closely intertwined the Matagi are with their environment.
What struck me most over those two days was that this is not a performance staged for travelers. Unlike some other cultural experiences that I’ve had to suffer through on various government FAM trips, this was something that was not at all commodified for tourism. Oriyama-san is not playing the role of a Matagi, and staying at Oriyamake felt like an authentic breath of fresh air where we were stepping briefly into a way of life built on reverence for the mountain gods, restraint, and resilience. It is hands-on and a lot of hard work when the snow piles up as much as it did when I was there, yes. But it is also reflective, and you leave Oriyamake with more than photos. You leave with a deeper understanding of what it means to live in accordance with the rhythms of the land as the Matagi have for centuries.
For those interested in similar experiences, there are a few other guest houses run by Matagi in and around the district of Ani, such as Ryogetusha and Matsuhashi Ryokan, both of which I stayed at in the summer of 2024. And if you need to warm up after a long day in the snow, why not drop by Ani-Maeda Onsen Station? A one-of-a-kind facility in northern Akita, the station building also has an in-station hot spring, which is perfect for when you can no longer feel your feet after trudging through the snow with kanjiki on. The station also serves as a primary access point for Mt. Moriyoshi, one of the few places in Japan where you can witness the famed snow monsters, which is exactly where we head next.
Mt. Moriyoshi’s “Snow Monsters”
While the Matagi may be the real spiritual heart of northern Akita, they are not the only reason to venture this far into the mountains. Looming over the region is Mt. Moriyoshi, a peak so central to life here that it feels less like a landmark and more like a presence. In winter, its upper slopes transform into something almost otherworldly. Known as juhyo in Japanese but more commonly rendered as snow monsters, these towering white formations rise from the ridgelines like frozen sentinels guarding the summit. And if you are making the journey north for culture, you might as well stay for the spectacle.
For what it’s worth, know that the snow monsters of Mt. Moriyoshi are not mythical creatures but a natural phenomenon created by a precise combination of wind, moisture, and subzero temperatures. Strong seasonal winds blow in from the Sea of Japan, carrying moisture that freezes instantly upon contact with the mountain’s subalpine fir trees. Layer upon layer of ice builds up over weeks, encasing the trees in thick rime and snow until their original shape is completely obscured. What remains are massive, ghostly white figures sculpted by the wind, each one uniquely contorted depending on the direction and intensity of the storms that formed it.
To see the snow monsters for yourself, head to Ani Ski Resort, which serves as the primary winter access point to Mt. Moriyoshi’s summit area. From there, a series of lifts carries visitors high into the alpine zone where the juhyo fields spread out across the mountainside. Even if skiing or snowboarding is not your main objective, the lift ride alone is worth it for the views. That said, if you are inclined toward winter sports, the resort offers well-groomed runs and deep powder that rarely feel overcrowded, which is not something that can be said for other spots. It is the kind of place where you can carve down a slope in near silence, surrounded by nothing but snow and forest.
It is worth noting, however, that the lift does not take you all the way to the summit viewing area. Once you disembark at the top station, there is still about a 10-minute hike to reach the most dramatic cluster of snow monsters. In fair weather, it is a straightforward walk, but in heavy snowfall or strong winds it can feel like a proper alpine push. The trail is usually packed down, though fresh powder can make footing uneven, and temperatures at the top are often significantly colder than at the base. Still, trudging that final stretch through a corridor of towering white figures only heightens the sense of arrival when the snow monster fields finally open up before you.
Getting to Ani Ski Resort is relatively straightforward if you are coming from Aniai Station Station. From the station, seasonal shuttle buses run directly to the ski resort during the winter months, timed to coincide with train arrivals. If you are driving, the trip takes roughly 30 minutes along mountain roads that are well maintained but often blanketed in snow, so proper tires are essential. Either way, once you arrive and ride the lift into the rime-covered heights of Mt. Moriyoshi, you will quickly understand why this mountain holds such a firm grip on the identity of northern Akita.
Other Nearby Attractions
No trip to northern Akita would be complete without paying homage to the region’s most famous four-legged export: the Akita Inu. Odate is recognized as the birthplace of Hachiko, the loyal dog whose statue now stands outside Shibuya Station in Tokyo. Here in his hometown, you can visit the Akita Inu Visitor Center, a small but thoughtfully curated museum dedicated to the history and preservation of the breed. It offers insight into the Akita’s temperament, lineage, and cultural significance in Japan. Just a short walk away is the Akita Inu Café, where you can actually meet a few of these dignified dogs in person, including the ever-popular Mutsu and his brother Genta. Seeing the breed up close, calm and stoic yet quietly affectionate, adds a layer of depth to the Hachiko story that you simply cannot get from a statue alone.
Beyond the dogs, northern Akita offers a surprising number of hands-on local experiences. On a previous visit, I had the chance to make miso with Akiko Koyama, learning firsthand how much patience and intuition goes into something so seemingly simple. I also spent time at Gokigen Cabin, where we explored the nuances of Akita’s locally grown rice and cooked it the way it has been prepared in these mountains for generations. These are not polished, tourist-centric workshops designed for busloads of visitors. They are intimate, deeply personal experiences rooted in daily life. They are also the kinds of moments that stay with you long after you have returned home.
If you happen to visit in winter, Odate Amekkoichi is another uniquely local event worth timing your trip around. Held each February, this centuries-old candy market transforms the streets with colorful ame sweets hung from tree branches, creating a scene that feels almost whimsical against the snowy backdrop. The candy is said to ward off illness for the year ahead, and despite the cold, the atmosphere is lively and distinctly regional, with families bundled up as they browse stalls and sample treats. It is festive without being overwhelming, the kind of event that still feels like it belongs first and foremost to the community rather than to outside visitors.
Outside of winter, there are seasonal festivals that reveal yet another side of the region’s character. One of the most notable is the Odate Shinmeisha Festival, held annually at Odate Shinmeisha Shrine. The streets come alive with traditional floats, music, and a palpable sense of community pride that feels worlds away from the hyper-commercialized matsuri found in larger cities. It is a reminder that northern Akita’s identity is not confined to snow-covered landscapes and mountain traditions. It thrives year-round, shaped by ritual, celebration, and a strong sense of place.
And then there is the Oga Peninsula, home to one of Akita’s most iconic folk traditions: the Namahage. These fearsome, demon-like figures descend from the mountains on New Year’s Eve, visiting homes to admonish laziness and encourage good behavior in the year ahead. If you come in winter, you can witness the real thing as it has been performed for generations. At other times of year, the Namahage Museum offers an excellent introduction to the legend and its cultural context. Taken together, from loyal dogs to mountain deities and horned ogres, northern Akita proves that this remote corner of Japan holds far more than meets the eye.
Until next time travelers…
