Beyond Japow: My Search for the Next Great Ski Destination in Asia

Where to go skiing in Asia in 2026 — beyond Japan? This deep-dive explores off-the-radar destinations like Gulmarg, Jyrgalan, and Shymbulak, with cost comparisons, planning notes, and reflections from a skier actively mapping out his next move.

I grew up in the ski town of Vail, Colorado, and a question I get all the time is: Why did you ever leave? And better yet — how did you end up living in South Korea for the better part of 20 years when you could still be lapping the Back Bowls on your lunch break?

There’s no simple answer to that. Honestly, explaining it properly would require some soul-searching, a good therapist, and a very patient listener from someone who probably only asked out of politeness.

But the short version? I took a year off from my resort PR job in Vail to ski-bum in New Zealand, then tacked on a few more months through the South Pacific, Australia, and South America. Somewhere along the way, my priorities shifted. My curiosity and hunger to explore started burning even stronger than my lifelong love of skiing.

Vail had changed too. I know that probably sounds like an old man yelling at clouds, but it’s true. The place I’d grown up in had grown up too. It had become a mega resort with mega resort problems. I still loved the skiing, the hiking, and the mountain life, but it wasn’t the small-town ski community I remembered from my youth.

Eventually, after my boss grew weary of me asking for (and taking) one too many “extended vacations” to South America and Asia, I settled into a new life as an English teacher in South Korea. It let me keep feeding my wanderlust with annual trips around Asia. But admittedly, my love for skiing took a bit of a back seat.

Still, I was a Colorado kid at heart, and I skied where and when I could in Korea. I’ve even written a few guides to help others navigate resorts like Muju, High 1, and Yongpyong.

Korean resorts scratch the itch. Kind of like East Coast skiing might for a lot of North Americans. You get some turns in, you have a good time with family and friends. . . but let’s be honest, you’re not going to be telling stories about those few inches of freshies ten years from now.

That’s why, for the past 15 years, Japan has been my go-to for chasing the real goods. If you’ve never heard the term Japow, it’s a mashup of “Japan” and “powder,” and it’s not just clever marketing. Hokkaido, Japan’s northern island, gets absolutely hammered with cold, dry snow thanks to Siberian storms crossing the Sea of Japan. We’re talking deep, consistent, face-shot-worthy snow all winter long.

My first trip was to Hakuba Valley in 2008, but it wasn’t until 2014 that I really experienced Japow at Niseko. It dumped. And I mean nuked. All four days I was there. I caught a few bluebird windows from the summit, but mostly those huge, dry flakes never stopped falling.

Back then, as an American, it felt like I’d been let in on a secret. The resort was filled with Aussies, a few Kiwis, and plenty of Japanese families. When I told people I was an American, there was genuine surprise. Us Yanks aren’t exactly renowned for putting our passports to use.

Fast forward to 2025. After nearly 20 years of living in Asia, I’d finally convinced my brother to put his passport to use and come meet me in Hokkaido. He did so, along with one of his Denver buddies and we rented a car to split time between Niseko and Rusutsu. Once again, the Japow delivered. But it was clear to me that things were changing.

The Aussies were still there in force, along with the usual mix of international ski workers. But now, the Americans had also arrived in numbers. The accents in the lift lines, the acceptance of restaurant waitlists, and the general vibe in town all pointed to a new era. Japow was now catering to the masses, helped along by resort partnerships with both the IKON and Epic passes.

Let me make this clear: I’m not writing this to bash skiing in Japan. It’s still incredible, and Japan as a tourist destination is absolutely worth it. I wouldn’t discourage anyone from chasing that experience. In fact, I’ll be spending time on this blog in the coming weeks writing about just how awesome it is.

That said, for my 2026 winter trip, I’m looking to expand my horizons into Central Asia and see what else is out there. Not because Japow has let me down, but because I’m chasing something different. I want to get back to my roots — seeking out off-the-beaten-path destinations and, maybe, rediscovering what it feels like to be a surprise American voice on the slopes again.

I haven’t made a decision yet, and I usually stick to writing about places I’ve actually been. But this post is a little different: part research log, part brainstorming session, and maybe a long-overdue refill of the bucket list.

If it helps a few fellow wayward powderhounds in Asia figure out where to point their tips next winter — or sometime down the line — all the better. I don’t usually go fishing for input, but I’d genuinely love to hear from others asking the same kinds of questions.

You’ll find my contact info on the Contact page, also linked again at the bottom of this post.

Skiing in Japan is still one of the best winter experiences on the planet. But during my most recent trip to Hokkaido in 2025, it was clear just how much had changed since my first visit.

The snow is still incredible — that part hasn’t changed. But the secret is out, and with it has come a wave of growing pains: bigger crowds, higher prices, longer lift lines, and a vibe that feels a little more like a busy weekend in Colorado than a hidden powder stash in Asia.

Some of the biggest changes I noticed on this latest trip:

• Lift lines are becoming a real factor. Especially at Niseko, though even Rusutsu isn’t immune. We’re not talking Vail-on-a-weekend insanity — but it’s trending that way. Even the backcountry gates had lines: queues, chatter, and a clear sense that the “secret” is officially out.
• Dining requires planning. Most restaurants around Niseko now require reservations — often days in advance, and sometimes with a surprisingly hefty deposit. That was a major shift from my last visit, when I could walk into nearly any spot solo and enjoy an incredible meal at a reasonable price. This time, even the humble, family-run places were fully booked. I’m not exactly a foodie, but I was caught off guard — and so were my brother and his friend, who generally operate on a much higher dining budget than this English teacher in Korea. If you don’t plan ahead, be ready to dine on Japan’s famous convenience store cuisine.
• Post-Covid tourism is surging. Japan’s easing of entry rules has brought a global tourism boom. There’s talk of new visa requirements for some nationalities, and even rumors of tiered pricing for foreign visitors — possibly including lift tickets.
• High-end luxury is taking over. Hanazono’s once-sleepy base now boasts a Park Hyatt, with rooms starting around $2,000 a night in peak season. Yes, there are perks — like a sleek new heated six-pack lift and a modernized base area — but luxury tends to attract bigger crowds, steeper prices, and a shift in vibe. It’s not all bad, but as someone who can barely afford to visit my own hometown anymore, I can’t help but feel Niseko is heading the same way.
• Niseko Village feels maxed out. Rusutsu still holds a more relaxed vibe — though even there, base-area lift lines on powder days are becoming common. But in Niseko, everything from traffic and restaurant demand to ski bus bookings has scaled up. Toss in the creeping presence of corporate ownership, and it just doesn’t feel as laid-back as it did a decade ago.

Time to Look Elsewhere?

After three incredible ski trips to Japan — and a pretty solid handle on what South Korea has to offer — I started digging into what else Asia might hold for skiers like me planning their next big adventure. I had a feeling I’d need to think a little outside the box.

Kashmir had always intrigued me. I blame Led Zeppelin. I knew the region had a complicated and sometimes volatile history, but I also knew it was home to some of the most breathtaking mountains in Asia. So I started there, poking around online to see what skiing in Kashmir might actually look like.

That question led me to Gulmarg — a high-altitude resort with legendary snow, serious terrain, and an almost mythic reputation among hardcore skiers. I even started recruiting buddies for a possible 2026 trip. But then, as Kashmir sometimes does, it reminded the world how fragile things can be. An attack in nearby Pahalgam reignited tensions between India and Pakistan, and just like that, I needed a Plan B.

That’s when the Google trail picked up again. I pivoted to Shymbulak, a resort in Kazakhstan I’d only vaguely heard of, and that opened the door to a whole new region. From there, I found myself reading about Jyrgalan — a village in eastern Kyrgyzstan with cat-skiing, yurts, and real-deal terrain. Then I stumbled onto a few obscure-but-intriguing spots in northern China, places I hadn’t even heard of before, let alone considered skiing.

Some of these destinations are more likely than others for this season. A few may have to wait — though a couple have also piqued my interest as potential summer trekking spots. Either way, I’m officially deep in the rabbit hole, and I’m serious about picking one for 2026.

This post is partly a way to get those thoughts out of my head and onto the page, and partly a call to the powder gods to point me in the right direction. If it helps another skier find their next trip — or even reach out and tag along — all the better.

I wouldn’t say I have a checklist — at least not a formal one. It’s not like I’m filtering destinations by snowfall totals or vertical drop. But I do know I’m not flying across Asia just to pay for an experience that feels like skiing in Korea. That quietly takes a few spots off the table — especially some of the more polished resorts in China.

What I’m drawn to is harder to define. I’m looking for places that still feel a little raw. Somewhere that scratches both itches: the powder-chaser in me and the traveler who gets excited by landing somewhere unfamiliar, where things might not go exactly as planned. I want a trip that leaves me with stories — not just face shots.

Part of that is just who I am. I’ve always been curious about places most people skip. I went to Myanmar in 2006, long before it was on the average travel blogger’s radar — and long before it dropped back off again. So no, a country ending in -stan doesn’t scare me off. If anything, it may cause me to lean in a little closer.

“The journey is part of the experience — an expression of the seriousness of one’s intent. One doesn’t take the A train to Mecca.” – Anthony Bourdain

But I’ll be honest — part of this search is also professional. I’m slowly building this blog into something more: hopefully a trusted resource for skiers and trekkers looking beyond the obvious. Long-term, I’d love to grow it into a small side business offering personalized trip planning across Asia. I’m not there yet, but I’m experimenting — and for now, I’m offering free help to anyone curious.

👉 Check out my free travel planning program here

Not long after last winter’s epic trip to Hokkaido, I found myself thinking ahead to 2026. As a university English teacher in South Korea, I’m lucky to get two long paid vacations each year: summer and winter. That said, I’m also planning under the confines of an English teacher’s salary.

With a milestone birthday on the horizon and a growing urge to avoid the Japow-chasing crowd (for all the reasons I’ve already touched on), I started dreaming — and scouring the internet — for ski destinations in Asia that were still a little under the radar and within reach of my budget.

Japan had delivered again. But I wasn’t looking to run it back.

My first Google search?: “Can you ski in Kashmir?”

That question led me straight to Gulmarg, a high-altitude ski zone in Indian-administered Kashmir known for its massive vertical, deep snow, and full-on adventure vibe. After looking through a few tour operators, I was drawn to Gulmarg Powder Guides. Their decade-plus of experience and strong local reputation stood out immediately.

But it was the 10-minute Salomon TV video featured on their site that really stuck with me. The terrain, the snow, the story — it checked every box. If you can watch that and not start mentally packing your ski bag, we’re probably cut from different cloth.

🎥 Watch: Salomon TV’s Dream Trip to Kashmir with Gulmarg Powder Guides

For a while, Gulmarg was the plan. I even had a crew of Colorado friends lined up to join me. Then came the tragic April 2025 attack in Pahalgam, just a few hours away.

What had once felt like an edgy but reasonable decision suddenly became a hard sell. My would-be travel partners dropped out immediately. I didn’t blame them — and I hit the pause button too. But I haven’t crossed Gulmarg off the list. Not yet. For now, I’m staying tuned in and weighing things carefully.

Here’s the thing: I’m not reckless, and I’m definitely not chasing danger. But I also don’t believe in letting fear dictate all my choices. I visited Sri Lanka in 2017 and had an incredible trip. Two years later, a major terrorist attack rocked the country. Bad things happen everywhere. Honestly, I’d wager the homicide rate in Denver is higher than the actual risk I’d face skiing in Kashmir — though good luck convincing my parents of that.

Still, I’m not throwing caution to the wind. I’m keeping in touch with Billa from Gulmarg Powder Guides and following the news closely. If things stay quiet through the fall, it’s absolutely still on the table.

For now, Gulmarg remains a strong maybe. It’s the destination that first lit the fire and shaped what I hoped this trip could become. But after the attack, I knew I needed a backup plan. That’s when my search started drifting east, toward the mountains of Kazakhstan.

After my Gulmarg plans were put on hold, I kept digging for ski destinations in Asia that were a little outside the norm — and Shymbulak, Kazakhstan kept popping up.

At first glance, it seemed to check a lot of boxes. The resort sits just outside Almaty, Kazakhstan’s largest city, which makes logistics surprisingly easy. You can fly in, hop in a cab, and be at the base area in under an hour. That alone felt like a win.

Beyond that, the Trans-Ili Alatau Mountains (part of the northern Tian Shan range) looked legit: towering peaks, dry continental snow, and a modern lift system. For a place I hadn’t even considered a few weeks earlier, Shymbulak quickly started climbing my list.

Then came the price point. Compared to Japan or Europe, Shymbulak is considered very affordable, and from what I could tell, you can stay right at the resort without blowing your budget. All in all, it started to look like a high-value destination that still flies under the radar for most North American skiers.

But as I dug a little deeper, a few questions crept in.

While the surrounding terrain looks undeniably big and beautiful, the resort itself appears relatively compact. Many of the runs are groomed, and I couldn’t quite get a sense of how much off-piste or sidecountry is truly accessible without a guide or a touring setup. In other words: is it epic — or just. . . pretty decent?

📷 Watch: Destination – Shymbulak, Kazakhstan by AnewZ

I tried to find answers, including whether any guided backcountry trips might spice things up. I think there may be some options, but during that search I stumbled onto something that grabbed my full attention: Kyrgyzstan.

We’ll get into that next. But from where I stand now, Shymbulak seems like a great one- or two-day destination — a scenic and affordable stopover that could pair perfectly with a longer trip across the border.

As I dug deeper into lesser-known ski options for 2026, my search crossed the border from Kazakhstan into Kyrgyzstan — a country I hadn’t seriously considered before falling down this particular rabbit hole.

Truth be told, I hadn’t heard much about skiing there. I probably couldn’t have pointed it out on a map, and I definitely couldn’t have spelled it without help. But the deeper I looked, the more intrigued I became — and my inner powderhound ears started perking up fast.

Most of the promising info pointed toward Jyrgalan, a remote village tucked into the Terskey Alatau range of the Tian Shan Mountains. There’s not a ton of content out there, but I did stumble on a 2024 SKI Magazine piece calling the region “bucket list-worthy,” so it’s clearly on a few radars.

While Karakol is home to Kyrgyzstan’s most established ski resort, it was Jyrgalan’s raw, backcountry vibe that really grabbed me. It seemed like exactly the kind of place I’ve been hoping to find: rugged, low-key, and unpolished — but with just enough infrastructure to actually make a trip doable.

One company in particular has kept my attention: Ryce Travel. They offer several different ski trips in Kyrgyzstan, but it’s their cat-skiing tour around Jyrgalan that really caught my eye. The terrain ranges from 2,200 to 3,400 meters and includes wide-open powder bowls, legit steeps, and the kind of remoteness that means untracked lines and zero lift lines. From what I can tell, they’ve got the guides, snowcats, and avalanche protocols dialed in.

🎥 Watch: CAT SKI KYRGYZSTAN – JYRGALAN (Ryce Travel)

I’ve been in touch with Ryce, and they’ve been great about answering questions and talking through logistics. Their full 8-day cat-skiing package looks incredible — but it could be a stretch on an English teacher’s budget. I’d originally hoped to pair it with a few days at Shymbulak, but if it comes down to one or the other, I’d focus on cat-skiing in Kyrgyzstan and circle back to Kazakhstan another time.

The Ryce Travel tour includes:

• 8 days Cat Ski Kyrgyzstan
• Full board (excluding flights)
• Hot springs and ice-cold river plunges
• 5 days of cat skiing
• Time in both Bishkek and Jyrgalan
• Powder, powder, powder

That said, I’ve been doing some homework on more flexible and budget-friendly alternatives — especially in case the full Ryce package doesn’t pan out.

One option is Visit Karakol, which offers ski touring trips in both the Karakol and Jyrgalan regions. They don’t list exact prices online, but the setup — single-day tours, gear rentals, and guide-only arrangements — suggests it could be a more affordable, DIY-style alternative.

Of course, that comes with tradeoffs. You’ll need to piece together your own itinerary, and gear rental can add up quickly. Plus, I don’t currently own any touring equipment, which makes the all-inclusive nature of Ryce Travel’s trip feel like a safer, simpler bet for my first backcountry experience in Kyrgyzstan.

Right now, Jyrgalan is neck-and-neck with Gulmarg as my top contender for 2026. It seems to offer everything I was chasing in Kashmir — big terrain, cultural intrigue, and the rare thrill of skiing somewhere most people haven’t even heard of — but without the geopolitical uncertainty.

I’m still researching. Still digging. But this one has my full attention.

Living in South Korea, I’ve long known that China has some fairly developed ski resorts — especially in places like Chongli (home to several 2022 Olympic venues), Yabuli in Heilongjiang, and Wanda Changbaishan near the North Korean border.

These areas offer wide groomers, solid infrastructure, and a ski experience that feels fairly similar to Korea: fun, accessible, and easy to navigate — but not exactly soul-stirring.

For this trip, I’ve been chasing something a little wilder. That’s what put Gulmarg and Kyrgyzstan at the top of the list. But while researching Ryce Travel’s Kyrgyzstan tours, I stumbled on another offering on their site: a “Ski Adventure China” itinerary. That’s the first time I saw the names Jikepulin and Hemu.

These two zones are tucked into China’s remote northwest, near the Altai Mountains — close to the borders with Mongolia, Russia, and Kazakhstan. From everything I’ve read, they feel like a different world compared to the polished mega-resorts in the east. We’re talking deep, Siberian-fed snowpack, isolated terrain, and what looks like the early days of a true freeride frontier.

Ryce describes it as a mix of powder skiing and cultural immersion, with yurts, village guesthouses, and backroad van travel shaping the experience. Their tour might be a stretch for me this year, in terms of both budget and timing, but it’s one I’ve definitely bookmarked.

Of course, China’s vast geography and visa logistics add a layer of complexity that the other destinations don’t. But I’m intrigued. If Hemu and Jikepulin really are China’s answer to “Japow before Japow blew up,” I’d love to experience them before the rest of the world catches on.

At this point, I’d call it a long-term wildcard — but one well worth watching.

I haven’t gone deep on pricing in this post — all the tours and services I’ve mentioned are linked, and I’m not affiliated with any of them, so I’ll leave the sales pitches to the pros.

That said, if you’re trying to get a rough sense of which spots offer the most bang for your buck, here’s how I’d rank them based on what I’ve found so far.

Just keep in mind: these dollar signs are relative to international ski travel. Even the “cheapest” options will still run several thousand dollars once you factor in flights, gear, lodging, and guides.

One of the best values for big-mountain skiing anywhere. Lodging is affordable, guided packages like Gulmarg Powder Guides cost far less than their European or Japanese equivalents, and even food is cheap once you’re there. It’s still a long-haul trip — but dollar for dollar, this is a budget option with serious upside.

Lift tickets, lodging, and food are all reasonable by international standards. But it’s still a resort, and getting there — especially with gear — adds to the bill. If you’re mostly sticking to groomers, it may feel a little steep for what you get. That said, if you pair it with Kyrgyzstan, it could be a smart value play.

Ryce Travel’s full cat-ski tour isn’t exactly cheap, but compared to heli-skiing or backcountry lodges in Japan, it’s a solid deal. If you go the DIY route with a guide through Visit Karakol, you could trim the costs even further. Just know that logistics, gear rental, and snow safety require a bit more legwork.

Skiing in this region of China still feels like the Wild West. Some tours aren’t outrageously priced on paper, but the visa process, long-haul travel, and limited beta raise the friction factor. If you’re already in China, it’s a lot more approachable. Coming from Korea or the U.S.? It’s a wildcard splurge.

Not sure which of these off-the-beaten-path destinations is right for your next powder mission? Here’s how they compare at a glance — from snow quality and terrain to budget, safety, and ease of access.

Destination	Snow	Terrain	Cost	Safety	Access
🇮🇳 Gulmarg, India	🔥🔥🔥	Steep / Lift	$	⚠️	Medium
🇰🇿 Shymbulak, Kazakhstan	🔥🔥	Lift / Tree	$$	✅	Easy
🇰🇬 Kyrgyzstan (Jyrgalan / Karakol)	🔥🔥🔥	Cat / Tour	$$	✅	Hard
🇨🇳 China (Jikepulin / Hemu)	🔥🔥❓	Groomers +?	$$$	✅ / ❓	Hard

At this stage, I’d say China is mostly off the table for this winter. Hemu and Jikepulin are still on my radar — especially as I continue covering lesser-known ski destinations in Asia here on Colorado Saram — but they’re more of a future curiosity than a current priority.

Shymbulak is still in play, but mostly as a side trip. If logistics and budget allow, I’d love to spend a day or two checking it out on the way to Kyrgyzstan. That said, if something needs to get trimmed, it’s the piece most likely to go.

Which brings me to the two heavyweights in my decision process: Gulmarg and Jyrgalan.

If the situation in Kashmir stays stable through the fall, Gulmarg might just take the win. It checks a lot of boxes for me. First off, the skiing looks phenomenal. That’s subjective, of course — but given my background (strong off-piste experience, limited touring), Gulmarg seems like a better match.

Second, the logistics might actually be easier than they seem. My wife works for Cathay Pacific, so I can likely get to Mumbai at a decent rate. From there, Gulmarg Powder Guides can help coordinate the rest. And while India’s tourist visa isn’t cheap, the savings on airfare and daily costs might balance things out.

There’s also something more independent-feeling about Gulmarg. It’s still a guided experience, but it doesn’t carry the same full-package-tour vibe. I’m not really a group-tour guy — but I’m also not about to let that hang-up get in the way of skiing safely in remote parts of the world.

That said, there are still real questions to wrestle with. Safety is the obvious one. I’m not looking to put myself in harm’s way, and I don’t want to force my tourism into a place where it’s not truly welcome. The resorts and guides clearly want the business — but what about the community at large? I’ve experienced genuine hospitality during tense times elsewhere (Myanmar comes to mind), but I’m not sure if that holds true in Kashmir. It’s something I want to understand better before booking.

There’s also the bigger picture of what I’m building here. I plan to blog about wherever I go — and ideally, this trip feeds into my longer-term goal of offering personalized travel planning services. In that sense, Kyrgyzstan might have more potential. It feels like a place more travelers could envision themselves going in the near future. Gulmarg, on the other hand, carries a bit more uncertainty at the moment. While I’m still personally open to it, I’m less sure how many others would be likely — or willing — to follow that same path right now.

So yeah — I haven’t fully decided yet. And if you’ve skied either of these places (or considered them), I’d genuinely love to hear your thoughts.

👉 You can reach me through my Contact page, which includes my email and social links, if you have any thoughts, recommendations, or firsthand experience to share. I’d genuinely love to hear from you.

👉 And if you’re planning your own off-the-beaten-path ski or trekking adventure in Asia, I’m currently offering free, personalized trip planning help. Click here to learn more.