Posted tagged ‘japan’

Mt. Ōyama (大山)

March 24, 2023

Extra details:

There are two main routes up the mountain, either via the cable car (or the trail running alongside) or from Yabitsu-tōge.

Yabitsu-tōge route:

If coming by car, there’s a small parking lot at the trailhead. Otherwise, you can access it by infrequent bus from Hadano station (秦野駅) on the Odakyu Odawara line. The trail itself is very well-used and easy to follow, making it nearly impossible to get lost. On a clear day, there are nice views of Mt Fuji, Tanzawa, and Yokohama city. The summit itself is a bit run down, with antenna, decrepit shrine buildings, and picnic tables. It’s not a mountain to climb if you’re looking for beauty, but it is quite convenient for those of you based in Tokyo.

Mt Nagusa (名草山)

March 23, 2023

Extra Details:

For more details on Kimiidera temple, click here.

Local trains on the JR Kinokuni line are infrequent, so if coming from Osaka by train, please check the connection times before departing.

Descent route description:

For some reason, there aren’t any signposts on the mountain, making it quite easy to take a wrong turn if you’re not careful. The route from the temple to the summit is pretty straightforward (if you follow the instructions in the above video). From the summit, head north along the broad summit plateau and ignore every trail heading off the ridge until you reach a big picnic table with bamboo seating. This is a 3-way junction. Take the trail on the far side of this table as it heads in the direction of the buildings at the foot of the mountain. Don’t take the trail to the left marked for 紀三井寺 as it heads back to the temple. Drop down the steep trail and turn right at the first junction (there’s a small signpost pointing back in the direction you just came marked for 一本松広場). Continue straight and ignore a trail on your left heading down into the forest. Instead, veer left and straight here for a short distance until reaching another unmarked junction at a rock wall and stone gully. Turn right here and enter the gully, following it down to reach a shrine, cemetery, and temple. Once you reach the houses, zigzag your way back to the station (using Google Maps to help guide you).

Mt. Shakujō (錫杖ヶ岳)

February 18, 2023

Additional details:

Best Season:

This hike can be done year round, but definitely bring along a pair of crampons in the winter and DO NOT attempt the final chain section if conditions are icy. There are mountain leeches in the vicinity. so avoid hiking between June and August. Air pollution can be a problem in Mie Prefecture, so try to climb on a clear day with good air quality so you can get good views.

Hyakumeizan Book Review

February 3, 2023

Mention the Nihon Hyakumeizan to any Japanese hiker and you’ll likely receive an earful of personal anecdotes of successful ascents, breathtaking sunrises, and elusive wildlife. Indeed, it seems as if all mountaineers have their sights set on scaling every single peak on the venerable list. But what exactly is the Nihon Hyakumeizan? How were they chosen, and what makes these mountains noteworthy? Martin Hood answers these questions and much more in his fantastic book One Hundred Mountains of Japan

Originally published in mid-1960s, Nihon Hyakumeizan won the esteemed Yomiuri Prize for Literature in the Biography/Criticism category, and helped to spawn a hiking boom that has grown unabated. What was initially created as a personal list of 100 notable mountains that author Kyūya Fukada had climbed over his 40-year hiking tenure, soon became a de facto list of ‘must-climbs’, akin to Colorado’s fourteeners or Europe’s 4000-meter alpine summits. Even Crown Prince Naruhito attempted to finish the Hyakumeizan before becoming Emperor. Go to any bookstore nationwide and you’ll find numerous hiking guidebooks in Japanese for all of the mountains featured in Fukada’s book. 

Nihon Hyakumeizan is a collection of stand-alone essays that Fukada penned for the mountaineering magazine Yama to Kōgen. In 1964, all of the essays were compiled into a best-selling book that is still in-print to this day. Despite its enormous influence and appeal, the book had never been translated into another language until Martin Hood took upon the challenge to transform Fukada’s rich prose into English. Upon finishing the translation, publishers were reluctant to release the volume due to classification problems. This is addressed in a blog post on One Hundred Mountains:

“One Hundred Mountains (of Japan) is devilishly hard to categorise. Not unlike the geological mélange of Kita-dake, that mountain for philosophers, it blends together bits of this and bobs of that —  a soupçon of travelogue here, fragments of literature and history there, all mixed up, but with masterly assurance, into a zany matrix of zuihitsu-style essay writing.” 

Eventually University of Hawaii Press saw the historical significance of the work and published it under the genre of ‘Japan/Nature/History/Literature’. Hood’s translation is unprecedented in that it is the first English-language translation of any book on Japanese mountaineering.  

Fukada’s original Japanese text is so laden with obscure historical references that most Japanese people have a hard time understanding it. Hood overcomes this hurdle by providing a comprehensive glossary for every single historical figure mentioned in the text. That, accompanied by a 40-page introduction, makes the book accessible to anyone with even a cursory knowledge of Japanese history and culture. The introduction itself is a stand-alone work, in what must surely be the first comprehensive English-language anthology of modern mountaineering in Japan. The books starts with a detailed biography of Fukada’s life, followed by a thoroughly researched exploration of the influence of Japan’s most important mountaineering figures on the shaping of Nihon Hyakumeizan. Indeed, this introduction gives context to the book, providing a much-needed rooting of the text in the history of modern Japan.  

The book is required reading for anyone with even a passing interest in Japan’s mountains, for Hood’s translation shows not only how the mountains received their historical nomenclature, but also gives clues about the evolution of the landscape. Fukada’s text was written just as Japan was embarking on a massive post-war modernization, much to the detriment of the natural surroundings. Fukada captures these fleeting moments in the days before cedar plantations and forestry-roads-to-nowhere forever disfigured the scenery. The text also describes the mountains as if they were living creatures, something that is eloquently captured in the chapter on Mt. Tomuraushi, a mountain in Hokkaido:

“Kaun-dake is the rocky peak that marks one end of this broad-packed ridge. We scrambled onto its cramped summit and paused for a moment. At that moment, the clouds cleared to reveal mountains all around us under a flawless blue sky. But it was Tomuraushi, above all, that drew my gaze to the menacing bulk of his rocky shoulders.”

Canadian photographer Peter Skov provides the stunning cover photo book (paperback version only, so be aware if purchasing the hardcover). Additionally, the book features a full-color photo insert from Hood’s film photography collection showcasing some of the Hyakumeizan peaks as well as one additional photo from Skov.

The only drawback to Hood’s translation is the lack of maps. Indeed, Fukada’s original book has a map in each chapter, as well as a full illustration of Japan that shows the location of all of the peaks. Readers of the translation are well-advised to have a paper map or digital app at their ready when exploring the descriptions of the mountains. Perhaps this can be remedied in future editions of One Hundred Mountains of Japan.

Will this translation finally convince foreign publishers that English-language books about Japan’s mountains do have a willing audience? Only time will tell.

You can purchase the book here on Amazon or on the publisher’s website.

Kuroi Castle Ruins (黒井城跡)

January 23, 2023

Extra Tips:

There are two main paths up the mountain. I recommend ascending via the Nadaraka Course (なだらかコース) and descending via the Kyūzaka Course (急坂コース) to make a nice loop hike. At the trailhead, you’ll notice a small parking lot, toilet, and a long set of stairs on your right. These stairs is where you will complete the loop, so instead of heading to these steps, head straight and follow the signs for なだらかコース. On the descent, retrace your steps down from the summit (ignore the path on your left that reads 多田方面) go back through the animal gate and down the switchbacks to the flat area in front of the red gate. Instead of heading back to the red gate, hang a hard left here and follow the signs for the 急坂コース. It’s a steep but easy-to-follow track that leads straight down the mountain and to that set of concrete stairs at the end.

History:

The castle was built by the Akai Clan in the 14th century but is best known for having be seiged by Akechi Mitsuhide, who is best-known as the man who betrayed and killed Oda Nobunaga. The castle became abandoned just before the start of the Edo Era and all that remains now are the castle wall foundations and a spectacular panoramic view.

Mt Ryūō (竜王岳)

January 14, 2023

Extra Tips:

A longer path to Ōhara is to take the main ridge from the junction to Mt Amagatake (天ヶ岳) which is one of the 10 peaks of Ōhara. Please note that it is easy to get lost, especially on the far side of the peak, so make sure you have the digital and paper maps. Here is my trip report so you can get an idea of what to expect.

Another good way to end your hike is by having a soak at the baths at Kurama Onsen. There are two bath houses, and I personally recommend the outdoor bath. However, please note that the hot spring is currently closed due to a COVID infection among staff, so double check their website before heading there.

Kumano Kodo Guidebook Review

July 16, 2019

It’s the winter of 2007, and I’m hiking along an isolated track called the Kogumotori-goe in southern Wakayama Prefecture with my newlywed wife Kanako. The faint, poorly-marked trail leads up to a viewpoint flanked by a large weather-beaten jizō statue. Armed with a Japanese magazine about the Kumano Kodō, we scan the kanji text and barebones descriptions to find that we’ve reached the Hyakken-gura tenbōdai. We pause here, admiring the splendid views while poring over the limited knowledge in our less-than-ideal information source.

Had we been armed with Cicerone’s latest guide to the Kumano Kodo, Kanako and I would have been in much better hands and definitely would have taken a bus to Yunomine Onsen instead of opting for the extra 6km uphill walk on a paved roadway at dusk.

The Kumano Kodō has come a long way since our fateful walk a dozen years ago. Since becoming a World Heritage site in 2004, Wakayama Prefecture has invested an immense amount of money into both promoting and maintaining the Nakahechi route, adopting the ‘if you build it he will come‘ philosophy that would make Kevin Costner proud. Indeed, the Field of Kumano Dreams has not only brought in the tourists, but has put the Kumano Kodō on the world stage by teaming up with the Camino de Santaigo to form a dual pilgrim program and creating an English-language support network connecting visitors to the many inns and facilities along the way. This has resulted in a 40-fold increase in overseas visitors compared to just a decade ago.

But I really don’t need to tell you all that. One quick net search will reveal a wealth of information about the riches of Wakayama Prefecture, and it’s one reason why I haven’t devoted much of my server space to the Kumano Kodō on this website. Indeed, with the diligent work of their bi-lingual employees, the Kumano Tourism Bureau has created an on-line guide like no other available in Japan, all for free of charge. There’s enough on that website alone to help you plan and walk the Kumano Kodō. So why buy a guidebook at all?

The answer lies within the 230 pages that Kat Davis has devoted to her informative guidebook, a well-researched gem of a publication filled with nearly a hundred spendid full-color photographs. Rather than clicking through web pages and trying to collate all of the information into a notebook, you have everything you need in this guide, and you won’t need a wi-fi connection to enjoy it.

The guide features full descriptions of the Nakahechi and Kohechi routes, each of them 4-day treks through an interesting part of the Kii Peninsula. Part nature walk, part history lesson, the 6 routes outlined in the guidebook offer visitors a chance to experience an ancient pilgrimage route steeped in history. It is the informative explanations of the various Buddhist statues, teahouse ruins, and hidden shrines that sets this guide apart from others, as the author adds context to the historical markers along the way, many of which do not have English explanations.

Additionally, the full-color maps give just the right amount of detail without being too overbearing, and the elevation profiles for each route, marked in a myriad of symbols, provide vital distance and elevation gains that are essential for trip planning. While at first the symbols can be a bit difficult to decipher, a quick study of the map legend at the front of the book, along with a bit of practical use will surely have walkers praising their inclusion. She even goes as far as to include the location of vending machines on the maps, something that even I have come to appreciate during my exploration of Japan’s hidden backroads. The only thing missing from the maps themselves are kanji characters, which Kat makes up for by providing the kanji within each hike description, which will surely be helpful for those unable to read the language.

Besides the concise descriptions of the walks themselves, the book contains recommendation for places to stay and eat for each hike, along with information about soothing hot spring baths and local specialties. Vegetarian hikers will want to bookmark the Japanese phrases on page 45 of the introduction so they can use at the various inns and restaurants they encounter along the way. Indeed, the guide seems to have all of the bases covered, offering a handy arsenal of practical and up-to-date information that both first-time visitors and long-term residents can appreciate.

If there is one thing I would like to see added to the guidebook, it would be at least one walk on the Okugakemichi, which is by far the most beautiful section of the Kumano Kodo. The tough route connects Kumano Hongu Taisha with Yoshino in Nara Prefecture 100km to the north, and features towering old-growth forests, precipitous cliffs, and spectacular views from some of the highest mountains in western Japan. Regrettably, one section of the route is still off-limits to women, and much of the terrain is hardly tourist-friendly, requiring a head for heights and route-finding ability. Still, the final section between Tamaki Shrine and Hongu via Mt. Godaison would be the icing on the cake for this Kumano Kodo guidebook. Perhaps the publisher will allow a slight expansion of routes for the second edition of the guide, if the book proves to be popular. Do your part now to ensure that such valuable resources continue to remain in print by purchasing this excellent guidebook.

 

Mt. Shokanbetsu (暑寒別岳)

July 5, 2016

Mt. Shokanbetsu is one of Hokkaido’s best kept secrets. The long approach turns off all but the most hardcore of hikers, and the alpine scenery and panoramic views make the effort worthwhile.

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Note: There are three different routes up the mountain. The most popular route is called the Uryū route (雨竜ルート) which traverses through the Uryū marshlands and over Mt. Minami Shokanbetsu before reaching the summit. It’s a one-way 12km hike that isn’t too steep but really long. There’s a great description here if you’re interested. The second most popular route is called the Shokan route (署寒ルート) and it starts from a forest road that is well-signposted in Mashike town (you’ll see a signpost at the 7-11 along the main road through town). This route is an 11km hike to the top that follows the northern ridge of the peak. The third route (and the one described here) is called the Hashibetsu route (箸別ルート) and it traverses the northeastern ridge through an area teeming with alpine wildflowers. It’s the shortest trail up the mountain (9km one-way) and offers a taste of alpine scenery without the crowds of the marshlands to the south. There is a free emergency hut each trailhead, which means you could easily traverse up and over the mountain, staying at one of the huts at either end. This is a long but relatively easy way to experience the beauty that the Shokanbetsu range has to offer.

The hike: From the parking lot, take the trail that starts next to the emergency hut. There’s a box here where you can register your hiking intentions. The path immediately dives into a beautiful pristine forest alive with insects and the sounds of nature. Bring some insect repellent if you don’t want to get eaten alive by mosquitos. Also, keep an eye out for bears, as the animals like to use the hiking trails to travel. The first few kilometers of the hike are relatively flat, and the route, like most big hikes in Japan, is divided into 10 stage points which can help you with the pacing. It should take about 30 minutes or so to reach the first stage point (一合目), which will likely have you gazing in disbelief that the hiking has only just begun. After an hour or so you should reach the 3rd stage point (三合目), where the real climb begins. It’s a gentle climb at first, which become steeper the higher you go. Once you reach the 5th stage point (五合目) the views will start to open up a bit and the path will become much rockier. In rainy weather the route will turn into a creek, so make sure you bring some rain protection or a change of clothes to help keep you dry. At the 7th stage point (七合目), the trail will finally break out of the treeline and will traverse through an area of splendid wildflowers. The views towards the Uryū marshlands will also open up, and you can see Mt. Minami Shokanbetsu off in the distance, a deep valley between your present position and the mountain. In good weather the path is easy to pick up, but in fog make sure you stick to the paint marks on the rocks. Just past the 8th stage point (八合目) you’ll top out on your first summit, and the path will drop steeply to a saddle at the 9th stage point before climbing a long peak directly in front of you. At the top of this long rise you’ll reach a junction where the Shokan route meets up with this route. The two paths will merge into one, so turn left at this junction and follow the signs to the summit (署寒別岳山頂). It should take about 15 minutes from this point to reach the high point, which is marked by several signposts. If the weather is good you’ll be staring down at the Sea of Japan directly below you, and behind you the Daisetsuzan mountain will soar off in the distance. From here a decision will have to be made. If you came by car, simply retrace your steps all the way back to the trailhead. If you want to do the full traverse, then follow the signs to Mt. Minami Shokanbetsu (南署寒別岳). It’s a long drop to a broad saddle, followed by a long climb to the summit. From there, follow the signs to Uryū numa (雨竜沼), which will take several more hours of long but easy hiking to reach. Allow around 10 hours to complete the full traverse, and bring enough gear and food to overnight at the emergency hut at the trailhead. If you need a place to stay in Mashike, I recommend the guesthouse Bochibochi Ikouka Mashikekan (ぼちぼちいこか増毛館), run by a friendly family from Osaka. It costs 4900 yen with two meals and the traditional structure dates from 1933. The owner can give you climbing advice and also has a free map of the mountain.

When to go: This hike can be done from July to early October, when most of the snow is gone. The peak is popular with cross-country skiers in late spring. A winter ascent is for experts only, as the deep snow drifts and unforgiving weather cause a few fatalities every year.

Access: You really do need your own transport to complete this hike. From Mashike town, take route 231 out of town to the north. Just before crossing Hashibetsu Overbridge (箸別跨線橋) turn right (you’ll see an old folks home on your right). There’s no signpost here so it’s really easy to miss. If you reach Hashibetsu station then you’ve gone too far. As soon as you turn right you’ll see a signpost pointing to the right for the Hashibetsu route of Shokanbetsu (署寒別岳箸別ルート). Turn right here and follow the signs to the trailhead. The road will climb via a few switchbacks before reaching the terminus, which is marked by a free emergency hut and small parking lot. You could take a taxi there from Mashike station if you don’t have your own transport, traversing down the other side of the mountain through Uryū marshlands (雨竜沼湿原), where you could possibly hitch a ride from there. Be warned that it’s a grueling 25km hike, so get an early start if you want to do the full traverse.

Level of difficulty: 4 out of 5 (elevation change ~1000m)

Total round-trip distance: 18km (6 to 8 hours)

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Mt. Tenjō (天上山)

April 4, 2016

Mt. Tenjō is the highest mountain on Kōzu island in the Izu island chain south of Tokyo. Even though it’s only 570 meters above sea level, the peak offers alpine scenery, volcanic lakes, and an abundance of wild flowers throughout the year.

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Getting to the trailhead: There are two different ferry ports on the island, so your ferry will usually dock at Maehama port (前浜港) unless the waves are high. If that’s the case, then it’ll dock at Takō port (多幸港) on the other side of the island.  Be careful when leaving the island as well, because sometimes they change the ferry departure location (but will announce over the town loudspeakers at 8am or you can check the ferry site on-line).

From Maehama port: Exit the ferry and turn left, walking along the pier. On your right is the ferry terminal building. There’s a tourist information center here which has a free hiking map that is well worth picking up. (It’s the same map that you can find in the .pdf file in the map section below). Behind the ferry terminal there’s an open grassy area with a restaurant on your left. Walk through this small park and turn right on the main street. Take an immediate left at the traffic light, following the road as it climbs towards the mountains. Just after turning on the street you’ll see a souvenir shop on your left and another small store a little further up. This is one of the only places to pick up snacks for the hike, though they don’t have a big selection. You’re better off bringing food from Tokyo. Keep climbing on the road, with the river bed on your right. After about 10 minutes you’ll reach a concrete bridge called Tenjinbashi (てんじんばし). You’ll also see a signpost here for the mountain. Turn right here and cross the bridge over the (concrete) river and turn left at the top of the hill. You’ll see a sign that says “1.2km 黒島登山口” (1.2km kuroshima tozanguchi). Follow the narrow road for about 200 meters and then turn left, once again following the signs to “天上山”. You’ll soon pass by an inn on your left called Syuso, which is the closest accommodation to the hike. They have clean rooms, good food, and a great bath on the roof overlooking the ocean. Advance reservations are required, but they’ll pick you up at the ferry terminal and give you a ride to the trailhead as well. Anyway, keep climbing up the road and you will soon reach another road with a brand-new concrete bridge over the river. Veer right here, past the new concrete embankment and continue following the paved road. You will soon find a small cave on your left, signposted as the “bank of chilly wind”. Cold air blows out from this opening, so feel free to crouch down to access the free breeze. Just past this cave, you will reach a junction. Turn left on the road and just after passing by a toilet building on your right you will see the trailhead on your left.

From Takō port: Exit the ferry and walk along the pier to the ferry terminal. You can pick up a paper map of the hike at the information counter. Just behind the ferry building there is a 4-way intersection. Turn right here and walk along the concrete boardwalk to reach a water source (if you need to pick up fresh water for the hike). Otherwise, take the unmarked road that climbs diagonally from the intersection. You can see the kanji 止まれ written on the asphalt indicating for descending cars to stop. Walk up this road and you’ll soon reach a concrete staircase. Turn right here, following the signs to Himukai shrine (日向神社). The road soon terminates at a concrete water storage tank. Climb the stairs to the left of this building and cross the wooden bridge behind the building. The trail climbs up a series of stairs with handrails made out of metal piping. The trail will flatten out soon and you will pass through a stone torii gate and reach the small shrine. Go past the shrine and turn right at the junction, following the signs to 天上山黒島遊歩道.  The path enters a really nice forest, so keep walking and turn right at the next junction, which is where the path enters the mountain. The route climbs via a series of switchbacks, with views down to the port. You can see the rocky summit ridge of the volcano above you as well. It should take about 30 minutes to reach a viewpoint, with two metal tubes affixed on either side of the trail. The tube on the mountain side is meant for you to look inside to view a rock formation on the ridge that apparently resembles a buddhist deity. The one on the downhill side is supposedly built so you can hear the sound of the wind. Anyway, after this viewpoint the trail drops down a long gentle slope until reaching a paved road. Walk down the road for about 400 meters and you’ll see the trailhead on your right.

The hike:   At the trailhead, there should be plenty of wooden trekking poles here that you can use on your hike. The trail climbs through a row of ferns and you will soon reach the 1st stage point (1合目). There are a total of 10 stagepoints until reaching the summit ridge, and they’re spaced pretty evenly up the slope. The map says to allow 50 minutes to the top of the ridge, but you can easily do it in half that time if you don’t take breaks. The views will open up towards the ocean behind you, so feel free to stop and enjoy the scenery as you climb towards the ridge. Once you do reach the ridge, you’ll be presented with an abundance of hiking options. I recommend taking a right at the second junction you see, with a signpost marked for Sendai ike (千代池). It takes just a few minutes to drop to the shores of the pond, which should be filled with water if it’s been raining recently. If not, then it’s probably nothing more than a puddle. Take a break here on the picnic benches to enjoy the tranquil scenery. From the pond, the trail ducks back into the forest on your left and traverses back up to the main trail. Turn right here and follow the signs towards Omote Sabaku (表砂漠). The path will climb out of the forest and enter a rocky area that looks very alpine in nature. You’ll soon see a trail on your left marked for Kuroshima Tenbo chi (黒島展望地). It’s a 10-minute climb to the top of Mt. Kuroshima, which has incredible views back down to Maihama port. You’ll also get amazing views from the summit itself, so you can skip this side trip if short of time or if the cloud is in. Continue straight on and it’ll take about 15 minutes of gentle climbing to reach Omote Sabaku,  the “Front Desert.” The trail is covered with white volcanic sand and it sort of  resembles a tiny desert. Ignore the first junction you see (with a trail on your right) as well as the fork on your left (that leads directly to the summit) and you’ll reach the desert area, which is marked by a row of picnic tables. Just past this, you will find a junction on your right marked for Ura Sabaku (裏砂漠), or the “Back Desert”. It is a loop trail that takes about 30 to 40 minutes to complete. Again, if the cloud is in then you can skip this part, as the scenery is the same as the rest of the mountain. If you ignore this trail and continue straight on, you’ll reach a junction that marks the end of the Ura Sabaku loop. To be honest, I skipped this loop trail because I wanted to spend more time around the summit crater, which is the best part of the mountain. Turn left at this junction and follow the signs towards Fudo-ike (不動池). The path climbs quite steeply at first, reaching a lookout point which is apparently one of “Tokyo’s 100 Best New Views.” It looks straight down into a heavily eroded valley and had great views out towards some of Izu’s other islands. After this the trail drops down to the pond, where you’ll find some picnic benches. There’s also a small red hut hidden in the bushes which houses a “bio toilet.” Even if you don’t have to go, it’s worth ducking your head in to see the flushing mechanism via stationary bicycle. Just to the left of the toilets there’s a trail that leads to a stone statue of Fudo Myō-ō. It’s a small statue built into the hillside and worth a visit to check out the moss-covered lantern. From the pond, there are two trails that both form a loop. I recommend going counter-clockwise, so take the path marked for Tenku no oka (天空の丘). The path climbs briefly before reaching a junction. Turn left here for the short hike up to Tenku no oka, which has vistas of Mt. Fuji and the Japan Alps if the air and weather are clear. This trail loops back down to the lake, but retrace your steps back to the junction and turn left. The path climbs for a bit before dropping to a vast meadow. There are three different ponds here (the first one is just down an unmarked trail on your left), and the second pond does not have a path to it. The final pond, called Babaa-ike (ババア池) is another nice puddle of water if there have been recent rains. From here, the trail climbs back up to the crater rim, where it reaches a junction for the trail down to Shiroshima (白島登山口). Ignore this junction for now and head straight on, following the fence posts on your right that have been lined with rope. There’s an old dried crater called Hairanai-ga-sawa lined with white sand. Follow the trail around this and climb past some erosion works on your right and you will soon reach a junction for the summit (最高地点). Turn left for the steep climb to the highest point of the mountain. In clear weather you’ll have panoramic 360-degree views of the Pacific Ocean all around. If the cloud is in then you’ll just have to use your imagination. After enjoying the views. retrace your steps back to the junction and turn right, retracing your steps back to the Shirajima junction. Turn left here, following the concrete path lined with steps. It’s a steep drop but it should only take about 10 minutes to reach the 5th stage point (5合目), which is at the end of a forest road. There’s a toilet here as well as a couple of picnic tables. Just in front of the toilet, you’ll see a trail on your left that ducks into the forest. It’s marked as 下山口 and has a signpost for 村落2.2km. The trail enters a lush forest with lots of shade cover and beautiful trees. Just before the 3rd stage point (3合目), you’ll pass under a stone torii gate and reach a junction for Nachidō (那智堂) temple. Turn right here and walk 5 meters to the temple, which is nothing more than an corrugated metal shack. There are some interesting Buddhist statues inside of the shack though. Retrace your steps and keep climbing down the path. It really starts to steepen here, with plenty of stone steps built in place and a liberal use of climbing ropes lining both sides of the trail.  At the 2nd stage point (2合目) you’ll find a water tank. Turn left here and descend through a cedar forest until reaching a paved road. Follow the road down past a few greenhouses (and a junkyard of abandoned vehicles). On your left you can catch vistas of the mountain you just came down. Soon you will reach a new paved road. If you turn left here and cross the bridge, you’ll arrive back at Kuroshima trailhead. Turn right here and continue down the paved road. Take the small road on your left marked for 村落 and it’ll connect with the main road that will lead back to the ferry terminal. All it all, it can take anywhere from 3 to 7 hours for the hike, depending on how many breaks you take.

 When to go: This hike can easily be done year-round, but try to avoid the summer heat of July and August, as the lack of shade on the mountain will likely turn you into a dried prune. Also, in rainy/foggy weather it can be a bit of a depressing slog, with no places to escape the elements. June is the peak season for wildflowers, and winter offers your best chance of seeing Mt. Fuji and the Minami Alps.

Access: From Takeshiba ferry terminal (竹芝客船ターミナル) in Tokyo, take a ferry bound for Kōzushima (神津島) and get off at the last stop. During the high season in summer, an advance reservation is highly recommended. The ferry leaves nightly at 10:00pm, arriving on Kōzu island at 10am the following day. The ferry also stops en route on Oshima, Toshima, Niijima, and Shikinejima islands, so you could do some islands hopping on the way if you like.  Click here for some English information about the ferry company. There’s also a ferry from Shimoda (下田) port in Izu that takes either 2-1/2 hours or 7 hours, depending on the day of the week.

Live web cam: Click here and select “神津島 前浜南東”

Map: Click here for a full-color map of the island, and here for a detailed map of the summit plateau. You can also pick up paper copies of these maps at the ferry terminal.The map has numbers written in blue from 1 to 29 that correspond with numbered signposts along the trail, so you can cross reference the number on the map with the signposts you see along the way.

Level of difficulty:  2 out of 5 (elevation change 572 meters)

Total round-trip distance: 10km (3 to 7 hours)

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Mt. Ashitaka (愛鷹山)

February 27, 2016

The Ashitaka mountain range sits on the edge of Fuji city just a short distance south of Mt. Fuji itself. The route described here offers the best unobstructed southernly views of Mt. Fuji from any mountain in Japan, as well as allows hikers to experience a taste of the deciduous hardwood forests that once covered the entire land.

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The hike: The bus stop is just off route 469, so after exiting the bus, walk out to the main road and turn right (in the opposite direction from which you just came). You’ll soon see a soba noodle shop on your left (on the opposite side of the road). Walk down the paved, 2-lane road for about 10 minutes and you’ll reach the trailhead on the left side of the road. It’s marked by a large parking lot and wooden shelter housing the toilets. There’s a large grassy area here as well, which is a good landmark that you’ve reached the right place. Just to the right of the toilets you’ll see the trailhead marked by a wide trail with wooden log steps built into the hillside. The trail pretty much goes straight up, with very few switchbacks in sight. You’ll see a large TV antenna at the top of the hill in front of you. The trail will go right past that, so you can use that as a visual indicator (though it’s nearly impossible to get lost, as there’s only one way to go, and that’s up!) If the weather is good you’ll have an amazing view of Mt. Fuji directly behind you. At the top of the hill just below the antenna you’ll find a small observation deck which makes a great place for a short break. The grassy area just below this lookout point makes for a great picnic area. In fact, if you’re nursing a hangover or just don’t feel up for a big hike, it’d be a great place to kick back and relax for the afternoon before descending back the way you came in time for the last bus. Anyway, if you’re still keen on hiking then continue up the trail past the antenna and helipad and you’ll pass through an area of bamboo grass with excellent views of the Minami Alps if the weather is good. A few minutes on, you’ll pass by another antenna (this one sits on top of a green building) before entering the forest and commencing the steep climb towards the ridgline. It should take about 10 minutes to reach Umanose Miharashidai (馬ノ背見晴台), which is the halfway point in terms of horizontal distance. You’ve still got quite a lot of vertical elevation change ahead of you though. There are a couple of picnic benches here if you feel inclined to take a break. Just don’t rest too long, as the last bus back to Gotemba is at 6:09pm. From here, you’ll enter a root-infested trail that is suffering from a nasty bout of overuse. There are several different paths to follow, each in varying states of erosion. Take your pick and enjoy the moss-covered volcanic scenery of the hardwood forest. If the winds are blowing from the north, then don’t be alarmed if you hear the sound of elephants and lions. No, your mind isn’t playing tricks on you: there is a safari park located at the base of the mountain. Likewise, if you hear artillery fire, then rest assured that you’re not under attack, as there’s a military firing range also at the foot of the mountain. Anyway, the trail really starts to steepen here, and it should take about 40 minutes of continuous climbing before reaching another small viewpoint called Heitanchi (平坦地). This is your last chance for unobstructed views of Mt. Fuji, so be sure to take plenty of photos (or use your imagination if the cloud is in). The final part of the climb is ahead, so brace yourself for the relentless 200-vertical meter push to the summit. The path steepens once again, as the forest grows thicker and more beautiful with each advancing step. In the winter you can get nice views of Mt. Fuji between the bare tree branches, which can make for some really artistic shots. Once again there are two or three different heavily-eroded paths to choose from, so take your pick and keep up the vertical elevation gains. After a heavy rain the trail will likely be one giant mud pit, so bring gaiters if you want to keep your hiking pants from getting muddy. It should take around a half an hour to reach a trail junction for Sekotsuji (勢子辻). Ignore this trail and push on to the summit of Mt. Echizen (越前岳), the highest point of the Ashitaka range. Although the views of Mt. Fuji are obscured by tree cover, you’ll have mouth-watering vistas of Tsuruga bay and Fuji city directly below you. Take a break here on one of the picnic benches dotted on the summit plateau.  You’ve got a couple of choices from here. If you’re running short of time, then consider retracing your steps back to the bus stop, as it’s the fastest and shortest way off the mountain. If you’ve still got the time and energy, however, you can traverse over to Kuro-dake and down to Yama Jinja Shrine, which will take about 2 hours to reach. Keep in mind that the last bus is 6:09pm from Ashitaka tozanguchi bus stop, which is a 10-minute walk from Yama Jinja. To reach this trail, find the small red-bibbed Jizo statue on the far side of the summit (just behind the picnic tables) and follow the path that leads away from the top (with Mt. Fuji on your left).  Don’t take the trail marked for Yobiko Dake, as it’s in the wrong direction. The path to Kurodake a lovely ridge walk with a relatively gentle descent through a tranquil forest. The route is signposted in a couple of places with the kanji for  黒岳・大沢, so just stick to the ridge with Mt. Fuji on your left. Your first landmark will be Fujimidai (富士見台), which has a nice view of Mt. Fuji. There’s a strange 2-meter tall aluminum tripod here that is incredibly unstable. Apparently it has been set up so that photographers can climb up and set their cameras there to capture the view above the trees. This spot was is known as the location for the photo that once graced the back of the 5000 yen bill in the pre-war years of the Taisho era. The trail continues to the left of this tripod and will traverse along the ridge past a couple of precarious drops on your right that are marked with Caution signs. Stay away from the edge of the crumbly ridge on your right, as at least one person has tumbled from there. Push on for another half hour or so until reaching Nokogiri Dake Tenboudai Viewpoint (鋸岳展望台) on your right just off the main trail. There’s a wonderful vista of a jagged, insanely-precarious sabertooth ridge that is currently off-limits to hikers, and for good reason, as parts of the ridge have completely eroded away. From here, the trail will drop through some bamboo grass and reach a deep trench that also doubles as the hiking trail. A detour route has recently been created that parallels the gully, so take your pick as they both meet up further down the ridge. There’s one tricky point at the end of the gully where the path appears to verge to the right on a wide path that appears to be a road. Stay left here and keep following whichever trail has the most erosion and you’ll be ok. You’ll really start to lose altitude now, and the native hardwoods will give way to a farmed cedar plantation that will block out most of the natural light. It’ll take another 15 to 20 minutes to reach a junction called Fujimi Touge Path (富士見峠), where a decision will have to be made. There’s a bus leaving at 4:49pm and the last bus is a 6:09pm. You can make it to the bus stop in about 45 minutes from here if you really push it (and ignore the side trip to Kurodake). If you have the time and energy, however, and want to get one final look at Mt. Fuji, drop your pack here and head up to the summit of Mt. Kuro, which reputedly has a pleasant vista of everyone’s favorite stratovolcano. Allow yourself about one hour for the return trip. I did not have time for this side trip, so if anyone does venture up there please let me know about the trail conditions and if the vistas make it worth it. From Fujimi Touge , the trail finally leaves the ridge for the steep descent to the bus stop. The path drops steeply for a couple of minutes before reaching a free, unstaffed mountain hut that looks more like an abandoned shack than a place to stay. There’s a small water source in the gully just below the shelter that was little more than a trickle in the winter. The hut has room for about 3 people comfortably, but it would make for a nice place to stay if you wanted to climb up for the sunrise from Mt. Kuro. Cross over the gully to the toilet shack on the other side, where the path continues its traverse. After a gentle climb you’ll reach the base of two short ladders that can be slippery in wet weather, so use caution. From here, the trail traverses through an area of rockfall (marked with a sign in Japanese reading 落石) before descending into a moss-covered cedar forest that wouldn’t look too out of place on Yakushima. Continue climbing down until reaching a moss-covered concrete dam. Cross the gully below the dam and the trail will continue on the other side and after a few more minutes you’ll reach a small shrine and a paved forest road with a small parking lot. Turn left here and it’s a 10-minute, 1km walk along the road to the bus stop. When you reach the main road, you’ll see the bus stop on your right but be careful – this is the bus stop in the opposite direction. Cross the road and walk down a little towards your right and you’ll see a sign with a cute little “Q” in white letters on top of a red illustration of Mt. Fuji. You can either take a bus back to Gotemba or Mishima station (though there’s only one bus to Mishima in the afternoons, leaving at 4:59pm). You could also try your luck hitching, as the road gets steady traffic on weekends. The entire hike should take between 4 to 6 hours, depending on your speed. If Mt. Fuji is visible then it’ll probably take closer to 6 hours for the hike, as you’ll be stopping every 50 meters or so to snap another photo of the iconic cone.

 When to go: This hike can be done year-round, but you’ll need crampons anytime there is snow on the mountain, as it can get quite icy. Winter provides your best chance of seeing snow-capped Mt. Fuji. The autumn colors are also splendid on the mountain, so aim to go in late October if you can. Summer can be incredibly humid and downright miserable, so it’s better to do it before June when the humidity really starts to settle.

Access: From Tokyo, take a train on the Tokaido line to Kozu (国府津) and change to the Gotemba line. Get off at Gotemba (御殿場) station. Go out the ticket gates and turn left, going down the stairs on the “Mt. Fuji side” of the station. The stairway splits at the landing halfway down, so turn left and go to the bus rotary in front of you. The bus for the trailhead leaves from bus stop #4 (it’s the bus stop on the island in the middle of the rotary). Take a bus bound for Jūrigi (十里木) and get off at the final stop. It takes several hours to reach Gotemba station by train, so make sure you’re in time for the 10:50am bus or you won’t have time to do the hike before nightfall. You could also get to Gotemba by bus from Tokyo or by the Odakyu line from Shinjuku (get off at Shin-matsuda station and then walk to Matsuda station on the Gotemba line and continue by train to Gotemba). Alternatively, you could take the Shinkansen to Odawara station and then a local train to Kozu and then to Gotemba.  Click here for the bus schedule.

Level of difficulty:  3 out of 5 (elevation change ~700 meters)

Total round-trip distance: 7.6km (4 to 6 hours)

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