Sunday, 8th of February, 2026. We’ve been living in Hokkaido for 15 years now, and this was the first time we’d skied at Rusutsu Resort. It was eye-opening. So much terrain. Amazing tree skiing (although completely tracked out). Vast. Expansive. Great views. As a once-in-a-while experience, Rusutsu seems like an awesome place.
We were on a two-week ski trip with friends and family from New Zealand. Mostly on-piste. We were about seven days into the trip on this Rusutsu day.
We were on some of our last daytime runs of the day when the accident happened. I happened to come across some of the crew at the top of the Steamboat runs, so we boosted it down Steamboat B to grab the last lift back up. The plan was then to head back over to the east side of the resort.
We were skiing fast. I was on my new Kaestle TX103 touring skis, enjoying the surprisingly good on-piste performance, doing long and wide carving turns. One of the crew, usually much faster than me, came up fast from behind, and we clipped each other as I was just exiting my turn.
Yard sale.
Her skis left the chat as you’d expect from a proper on-piste alpine ski setup. One careened down the slope, one stopped in its tracks as she slid down slope. Although a bit shaken, she was OK.
My skis did not leave the chat. Since most of my skiing is in the backcountry, I don’t own a resort-specific setup. For the usual three or four days a year I spend on-piste, I just use my touring setup – touring skis with old Black Diamond Helio 145s or ATK Trofeos (same binding, different branding). Being a hopeless weight-weenie, my bindings don’t have brakes, so my skis are attached to my boots via a leash.
During the crash, I remember my right foot being twisted in external rotation. For some reason, my right ski was twisting my leg, hard.
It’s hard to know exactly why my ski was wrenching my leg so much. When I came to a stop, both boots were out of the bindings. But perhaps the right binding released late?
Another possibility is that the leash was to blame. When I came to a stop, the leash on my right ski was wrapped tightly around my boot. Perhaps this kept my ski close to my boot, close enough to allow the ski to pull my boot in external rotation.
Regardless of the mechanism, when I came to a stop, I was a wrapped-up, groaning, heap of ski gear.
I’m not sure how long it was that I was lying there groaning, but once the pain level dropped from a 7/10 to a 4/10, I noticed some of the crew standing over me.
“Are you OK? We crashed hard!”
I took stock of my situation. The inside of my right knee hurt a lot. I started unclipping the leashes from my boots, and laid my skis perpendicular to the slope.
“Not particularly OK,” I replied. “Are you OK?”
She was fine.
We considered calling ski patrol there and then, but I wanted to see if I could ski down to the base station on one ski. We were already about half way down the run.
Unfortunately, after five minutes and three or four turns on one ski, it was clear it would be better to call for help. I couldn’t keep the ski on my right leg straight as I held it up off the snow – it was wobbling too much. Putting weight on it was not an option.
So we sat down and found the Rusutsu Resort phone number. By this time, most of the rest of the crew had found us, stranded on the side of the piste.
Patrol was dispatched immediately – the sirens of the snowmobile started before I’d even finished the call.
Patrol quickly assessed the situation, and put me on the snowmobile for the ride of shame to the base station.
At the base station, patrol bundled us into a cold office and filled out an incident report. In hindsight, I probably should have asked for a copy.
The resort dispatched a van to take me back to our vehicle—parked way over on the east side—while the rest of the crew made their way back by lift and piste.
The ride across Rusutsu took about fifteen minutes, which feels longer when you’re staring at your own foot and trying not to move it.
By the time we reached the van, I couldn’t put weight on my right foot at all. I hobbled around on one leg, shoved the skis into the back, then climbed into the passenger seats, fired up the diesel heater, and took a painkiller. (Loxoprofen is my go-to in Japan—it seems to block pain better than ibuprofen for me.)
Waiting for it to kick in felt endless. The pain sat stubbornly around a 6.5/10. I sat in the back of the van groaning and cursing.
Haidee arrived just before the edge finally came off.
“It sounds pretty serious,” she said. “I’ve honestly never heard you make noises like that.”
A bit later, two of our ski trip crew, including the one involved in the crash, came over to the van to check on me. It was good to see that she was OK.
“I feel so bad,” she said. “That was such a big crash, and it looks like your ski season might be over.”
It was a pity that our time as a full troupe of New Zealanders hitting the slopes in Hokkaido had been cut short, but such was life.
It was Sunday, so we decided to get it checked first thing Monday at Kutchan Kosei Hospital. At that point I was still hoping it was “just” a bad sprain. The only thing that didn’t fit was the tenderness higher up—pressing hard on the outside of my upper calf hurt in a way that made no sense for a simple ankle injury.
My foot was swelling, so we dug out a compression bandage, filled a ziplock with snow, and kept my leg elevated.
Back at Chris’s cabin, I sat back while Haidee, Rowland, and Kylee got us settled. A roller chair from the office got promoted to a makeshift wheelchair.
On Monday morning we drove into Kutchan Hospital for imaging. Despite the usual mixed online reviews, the experience was excellent—busy, but efficient and kind.
We arrived at 9:30 a.m. and left just after 1:00 p.m.: X-ray, CT scan, two consultations, and an ankle splint.
All up, the bill was just over 30,000yen – the bulk of that made up by the x-ray and CT scans, which were around 25,000yen. Beccause we live in Japan, National Health Insurance pays 70%, so we were only just over 10,000yen out of pocket for this point in the process.
The result was not what we’d been hoping for. A severe ankle sprain would have been nice, but the x-ray and CT scans showed a maisonneuve fracture. This is a fracture of the upper fibula, caused by severe external rotation of the ankle. This fit what I’d experienced during the crash – my right ski yanking my ski boot into external rotation.
The doctor gave me two options: get a cast in Kutchan immediately, or return to Sapporo for treatment at a local orthopedic hospital—especially since rehab would be part of the story either way.
I chose Sapporo. We’d head back the next day.
At that point there was still no mention of ligament damage, so I was clinging to the idea that it was “just” the fibula fracture that needed treatment and healing time.
The next morning Haidee drove me back to Sapporo. Kylee and Rowland stayed in Niseko and skied Annupuri (thanks to Craig for the lift).
We arrived at the brand-new Shin-Sapporo Orthopedic Surgery Hospital—only a few minutes from our apartment—around 9:30 a.m. It was packed. Lots of elderly patients. A nurse later told me winter is their busiest season.
“With snow and ice comes sprains and fractures,” she said.
Kutchan had sent me home with a CD of the imaging, so it was straightforward to get the relevant info to the specialist, Dr. Takahiro Sato—after a long wait.
Dr. Sato confirmed the spiral fracture of the upper fibula. He examined my ankle too, but surprisingly it wasn’t especially tender. I asked whether an MRI was worth it.
“I suppose we could,” he said. “There may be a few days’ wait. How long are you in Sapporo?”
“I live here,” I said—though I was hoping to get back to Niseko for the week to spend time with family visiting.
He nodded and asked the nurse to check the MRI schedule. A few minutes later she returned: there was an opening in an hour.
Perfect.
After the MRI, Dr. Sato called me back into his office.
“The news isn’t great,” he said.
He drew a quick diagram on a piece of paper. “You’ve torn two ligaments in the ankle. Given you’re active, I’d recommend surgery as soon as possible—stabilize the ankle so the ligaments heal in the right position. We do it by pulling the tibia and fibula together.”
Then he looked up. “We can operate in two days. I’d like to admit you today. You’re lucky—we’re usually full in winter.”
And that’s how, in the space of three days, I managed three lifetime firsts: my first broken bone, my first hospital admission, and my first planned surgery.
I’ll leave this post here for now—and pick up the story with the hospital stay and surgery in the next one.
5 thoughts on “Hokkaido Ski Accident (Part 1): Breaking a bone and tearing ligaments”
So sorry to hear of your accident. Hope you heal well. Best wishes Jim.
Oh Rob, so sorry to hear this, but you certainly documented it well! Four years ago, I snapped my ankle at Rusutsu—a mountain we ride almost daily. After 25 years of boarding without a scratch, I managed to bust it at walking speed just skating across the top lift!
I tried riding down, but that was a mistake. I ended up taking a snowmobile to the car, but the pain really kicked in once I started driving. My wife, Ayuko, who was seven months pregnant at the time, had to come rescue me and drive me to the hospital! We went to Kutchan, where Dr. Katsumi-san fixed me up perfectly—they certainly get enough practice there. Wishing you a smooth recovery. I hope you come back stronger and fitter, and hopefully, we’ll see you at the Lake this summer!
Thanks for sharing your story Rob! Learned a lot as usual.
Wishing you a fast rehab and recovery!
Kutchan Hospital! Oh yeah… spent many hours there after Yujiro’s Niseko tree smash…glad you are getting it all done in Sapporo. Rehabili is THE hard work. Guess also good that the day job must be in the quiet season?
Oh wow I imagine that must have been a long process! As for me, definitely as far as work goes, a great time of the year to break bones and tear ligaments haha. Should be patched up and ready to go for the sea kayaking season 😀