In search of solitude

Now that the weather is consistently warm and the snow has melted out of the nearby mountains, we find ourselves hitting the trails on most weekends. Partly it’s because we like to stay active, partly that we enjoy the scenery, but mostly it’s because we just need to get out of the city each week. Call it therapy, if you will.

Japanese hiking trails don’t mess around – they are STEEP

Don’t get me wrong, though – I’m starting to think there is no such thing as solitude in Japan. It’s not surprising – with over 127,000,000 people in an area smaller than California or Montana, there’s not much privacy. It’s no wonder that when I talk to Japanese people who have been to America, the first comment is almost always, “It’s so BIG!” Because of this, our concept of hiking has changed a bit. I promise to never again take for granted the privilege of wandering into the backcountry and not seeing a soul until we come back to civilization. Until we can do that again, we’re adjusting to Japanese-style hiking…along with hundreds of our newest companions.

Photo from a Yama Girl (Mountain Girl) catalog. It's not me... yet.

The first order of business is to look good. I’m not joking. The outdoor stores are overflowing with the most stylish hiking attire I have ever seen in my life. Forget fleece and Gore-tex – Japanese hiking calls for quilted down skirts, striped tights, and coordinating leg warmers. Items that can be purchased in the US in 3 shades of beige are sold here in 15 eye-popping colors and a selection of bold patterns and stripes. After all, why should fashion be confined to the city? The guys aren’t safe from the style bandwagon, either… they need patterned wool socks, hiking tights or leggings, a stylish bandana, and a colorful microfiber towel. Regrettably, we stick out like sore thumbs with our earth-toned apparel. In an attempt to “blend in”, I bought a purple sun hat instead of the khaki one. Maybe we’ll be more colorful by the time we return to Seattle.

Going to rural areas means you encounter some pretty old trains

Once the outfit is in order, it’s time to hit the trail. Being car-less, that means our day starts out with an early morning train ride. Have I mentioned how much I love the public transportation here? Even when you want to head for the hills, there’s a train that will take you there. It’s awesome.

At Mt. Fujiwara, we were pleased to find an actual waterfall that wasn’t made of concrete. It doesn’t take long for your expectations to adjust a bit.

Typical hiking “map”

Most trails are extremely well-signed and marked. I particularly appreciate the cartoon maps that show up at the trailhead and at several other points along the trails, usually showing what animals one might expect to see in various spots along the trail (with one exception of beetles, so far the signs have been false advertising…no monkeys yet). One pet peeve is that distances are indicated in number of minutes as opposed to, well, distances. Even the more technical hiking maps have courses marked with times… hike this way for 15 minutes, turn left, then climb switchbacks for 110 minutes. I wonder what the standard pace is supposed to be?

Another map with promises of wildlife (but no luck for us)

I have to admit that I’m becoming a bit spoiled with the amenities that are available along the trail. Some trails are less developed than others, but it’s not uncommon to encounter restrooms (some even have heated seats, which was a real treat on a particularly cold and rainy day), vending machines, and even restaurants along the way. We joke that instead of the “ten essentials” that every hiker is supposed to carry, Japanese hiking really only requires one essential – money! Slowly, our packs are getting lighter as we realize we can get away without carrying enough gear to survive in the wilderness for several weeks… really just some water, extra socks, a compass, and a handful of 100 yen coins will do.

We did find some solitude on Mt. Yoro, probably because we chose to hike in a thunder-snow storm

On the other hand, I have seen some of the most amazing culinary feats while on trails in Japan. I’ve had my share of delicious food on the trail (Joe usually handles the backcountry cooking, and he makes a mean camp chili), but for day hikes we keep it simple. Not so in Japan. When we reached the top of Mt. Fujiwara, we were practically knocked off our feet by the incredible smell of Japanese curry simmering over a gas stove. Crowds of hikers were sitting in circles eating noodles out of stainless steel mixing bowls while others tended to stock pots(!). I was totally blown away by the amount of cooking equipment that had been hauled up the mountain. I apologetically handed Joe the onigiri that I’d made that morning (rice ball with a filling, in this case pork and shrimp) while the clanking of cookware and the smell of curry rice swirled around us. Ah, jealousy.

The weather was hot and the sun was intense, but the view was incredible (Mt Fujiwara)

My new favorite way of getting to the summit

Of course, not every mountain requires a grueling climb to the top. My mom and I cheated on Mt. Gozaisho by taking the ropeway to the top in lieu of the trail. While not exactly the most authentic of outdoor experiences, it was quite a thrill to see the steep terrain whizzing by under our gondola. We could pick out hikers from our vantage point high above the trees. Poor souls! While I don’t advocate for cheating in most circumstances, I do highly recommend taking a ropeway trip at least once.

Mt. Gozaisho even had a photo-op bench at the top to celebrate the achievement of reaching the top (even if you cheated and took the ropeway)

According to the instructions, I was supposed to use this to shout “wahoo!!” from the top of Mt Gozaisho… so I did.

While hiking is much more of a social affair here than I am used to, it is still nice to find some relief from the congestion and chaos of urban life. Somehow, being in a line of hikers on a trail is different from being in line for the subway. There’s also a camaraderie among hikers that you don’t get in the city. People that wouldn’t glance at you on the street will wave and say konnichi wa (or sometimes “Hello!”) on the trail. There’s an understanding that, despite cultural differences, you’ve got something significant in common. No solitude here, but still good for the soul!

View from level 9 of Mt Fujiwara