A strange feeling comes over me in snow country, a sense I've stepped into a painting. In the valley below, rice terraces cascade down the hillside. They're framed in white and backdropped by cedars, the scene softened by mist. Cameras are raised, shutters pressed, catching evidence that what's seen is real, not imaginary.

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Japan can be achingly beautiful, especially in the alpine north as autumn gets ready to transition into winter. The first snowfall has arrived, blanketing some parts, dusting others. But the countryside is reluctant to surrender all its colours just yet. Maples and beeches still carry their oranges, yellows and reds in a final display of defiant showiness.

In a week or two more snow will fall and it will settle in for the winter. Everywhere, you can see the preparations for its arrival. Snow ploughs parked on roadsides. Tall coloured poles erected on the verges - markers that will indicate the snow's depth. Ladders propped against houses, whose ground floors will soon be buried under metres of snow.

Our guide Kumiko tells us that even at the height of summer, snow is never far from the thoughts of the people of Niigata. Those hot August days are a reminder to start preparing for it. November is shoulder season, a quiet time before the arrival of hordes of skiers and snowboarders in December.

I'm not a skier. My one lesson many years ago almost ended in disaster when I slid backwards out of the circle gathered around the instructor, fell over and couldn't get up again. But I'm determined to try some kind of mountain adventure here in Niigata.

I find it at the Lotte Ski Resort, where at a height of 900 metres is Japan's second longest zipline. After gearing up at the base of the mountain, we pile into a van and are driven up a serpentine road to the zipline station. The driver explains that come winter this road will be buried under up to 10 metres of snow.

This is my first attempt at ziplining and I'm a bundle of nerves. But there's no turning back once I'm clipped onto the line, suspended above the platform like a sack of spuds. My knuckles........

© Canberra Times