Tateyama to Kamikochi - Day Six

11 August 2010

When we woke up in the morning the only sign of the typhoon was our waterlogged hiking gear. The fly was soaked; our clothing was soaked; our boots were soaked. But we were only an hour's walk from an onsen (hot spring) so we were pretty happy.

I've talked about onsen experiences before so I won't go into too much detail. My favourite part isn't actually sitting in the onsen - it's washing myself before and afterward. I like the whole process of getting clean before getting into the onsen and then doing it again afterwards. It's more relaxing for me than lounging in the pools. Probably because I can't tolerate the heat of the pools for too long. The water that you wash yourself with is from the pools but you're not immersed in it so you don't notice how hot it actually is.

We spent about an hour in the onsen before heading to Takayama. We spent about 3 hours in Takayama eating and shopping for Aimee's sister (she bought her a nice ceramic mug). We ate, in no particular order: frozen pineapple slices, Hida beef stew, sukiyaki (a soup from which you take vegetables/meat and dip them into raw egg before you eat them), ice cream and Hida beef skewers. We were really excited to have some more owara tamaten but the vendor was closed.

The city was crawling with tourists and it was very hot so we didn't hang out much longer after we were full. On our way to the train station we did have to stop so I could get a picture of these:


They're ocarinas! You know, from Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time? I thought they were just something invented for the video game. Apparently they're Italian. They're also very, very expensive (which is why I'm not running around with one, stopping periodically to summon my horse. Anyone...?).

Final Thoughts on Hiking in Japan

We were both really impressed with the beauty of the North Japan Alps but we had a lot of mixed feelings about the trip. One thing that bothered us was the amount of people. The trails were crawling with people almost everywhere we went. Back home we never ran into people - ever. Most of the places we hiked back home weren't national parks though. They also weren't in a country with as many people as Japan has. And while the number of people did irritate us at times, it was great to see so many people outside enjoying the outdoors. Japan has incredible natural areas and while a lot of people use them, as a percentage of the population hikers aren't a large group. The only way parks like this will continue to be protected (and created) is if people use them. Which brings me to our next mixed feeling: the huts.

It was a lot easier to accept the large number of people than it was to accept all of the huts along the way. The huts ranged from nothing more than large one-room sleeping areas to all-inclusive resorts in Kamikochi. Neither of us felt they were necessary - especially the resorts. To build these places, maintain them, and keep them stocked requires a fleet of helicopters. And for what? So people can have a shower, drink cold beer or sake, watch television, and even use the internet. It's an incredible waste of energy and resources. However, these huts bring in different kinds of people (read: People. With. Money.) and if more people (With. Money.) come then these places, and others like them, continue to be created and preserved. And even though thousands of people pass through these parks every year and these extravagant and wasteful huts/resorts are built, the area is still very pristine. I don't think it's asking too much for people to hike the way we hike, but maybe I'm wrong.

Day One
Day Two
Day Three
Day Four
Day Five

Tateyama to Kamikochi - Day Five

10 August 2010

Today was our longest day yet. We ascended from 2500m to 3060m and then descended to 1400m. By the end of the day we were tired, soar, hungry and soaking wet. But it was a lot of fun.

Because we knew the weather was going to be bad we were up by 5:00 and on the trail by 6:00. Four hours would get us to the fork where we would decide to head south if the weather was bad or push on east to Yarigatake if the weather was good. From 2500m where we camped up to 2800m (the first peak of the day) the weather was fantastic. We couldn't even see where the typhoon would be coming from. At this point we thought we might get lucky and it would miss us entirely. Whoops.

At the fork the weather was still good but we could see dark clouds chasing us from the west. We were still 4 hours from the peak of Yari but we figured that, worst case scenario, we'd be a few hours from the top before the edge of the storm descended on us. We decided to get to the top of Yari, take a quick break, and then hike down the mountain 2 hours to the next hut, since we didn't want to stay on top of Yari during the typhoon.

As expected, about an hour from the fork the mist that had slowly been creeping up on us from the west got tired of toying with us and turned into rain. This bullying also coincided with us running into Glen again. Until this point we had only ever seen him at the camps because he left so early. That morning he hadn't left till 5:00 and he wasn't surprised we caught up to him. We exchanged plans while putting on our rain gear - he was going to go to Yarigatake and stay there for the night, braving the typhoon.

The final ascent to the top of Yari was pretty grueling. It had stopped raining so we were able to take off our rain gear and air out, but that didn't make the monotonous switchbacks any easier. Everywhere the mountainside was the same - scree and mist, scree and mist. With the trail switching back every 10m it didn't feel like we were making any progress. When we looked back to see where we had came from we couldn't tell - for all we knew our starting point could have been 10m back or 1000m back. And then all of the sudden we were at the hut - 3060m.

The hut and the area outside it were very crowded. The rains returned in earnest immediately after we dropped our packs so everyone crammed together under the awnings. The foreigners were particularly popular here - all two of us. While putting on our rain gear for the descent to the next camp we were accosted by drunk, rich Japanese climbers. Drunk because they were drinking beer from the hut; rich because they could afford to. A beer at 3060m cost 1000￥ - and that's the cheap stuff. Foreigners are uncommon in Japan; to see them on hiking trails is rare. So we got the usual questions: where were we from, why were we here, what did we think of the mountains... We weren't feeling as accommodating as we usually do (these kinds of interrogations happen frequently and we're used to them) because we were in a hurry, so we played the foreigner ace card: "wakarimasen" ("I don't understand"). The questions quickly turned to "gambatte!" ("goodluck!") and we were on our way.

We decided against ascending to the peak (3180m) because of the weather. This was a little disappointing but we couldn't even see the top from where we were because of the clouds so we weren't missing much. As we were heading back to the trail to take us down the mountain we ran into Glen for the last time on the trip. He had ascended faster than we thought he would. I guess getting out of the rain was good motivation. We exchanged expletives about climbing up that "fucking" steep slope in the "fucking rain," shook hands and bid each other goodbye.

Thirty minutes into our descent the rain, which must not have felt that it was being paid much attention to, redoubled its efforts. Thunder lasting for what seemed like minutes echoed off the valley slopes; lightning lit up the underside of the clouds; and raindrops the size of pennies washed away the trail beneath our feet. This lasted all day and well into the night.

I make it sound a little bleak but it was actually kind of fun. Neither of us had been in a storm of that magnitude before; nor one whose power was so unrelenting for so long. It's one thing to be in a storm that powerful; it's quite another to witness one that sustains that power for 6 hours. I've never been in even a light storm that lasted for that long.


The above picture is of us exploring a cave about 1100m down from Yarigatake. A monk used to live there for half the year and would ascend Yarigatake... many times a year. I forget how many. He would spend his days chanting something about being in awe of the power of the gods. It was a 1 or 2 sentence chant that he would repeat all day, every day.

We made the next camp in two hours despite the rain. It was still pouring when we arrived though so we decided to push on another two hours to the next camp since we couldn't set up in the rain and we had no idea how long it would last. We had been to that camp during Golden Week and we knew it was only 3 hours from there to Kamikochi (and 2 hours from where we were) so it wouldn't be too much work. We got to see some interesting wildlife on this stretch.


We saw (and avoided stepping on) dozens of these giant toads all the way from the first camp we stopped at to the last camp. They were huge and came in different shapes and sizes. Some skinny, some fat; some brown, some yellow; some all warty, some very smooth; some old, some young; all huge. They were adept climbers. The rock this one is climbing was probably a meter high and it got right to the top. They weren't hard to miss because they a) were huge, and b) jumped like crazy when they felt us coming. We also saw a rabbit and some more grouse.

We made the next camp and it was still pouring rain so, yes, we decided to keep going. This time we decided to push straight through to Kamikochi... but we bit off more than we could chew. An hour away we were wiped out: hungry, sore, soaked. We collapsed under the awning of the closest hut, defeated.

Aimee dug the stove and dinner out of our packs while I endeared myself to the receptionist by dripping water all over the foyer of the expensive mountain hut while paying for our campsite. Then we further endeared ourselves by cooking our food on our rocket stove (it's loud) under the awning that was conveniently placed over the window of the expensive restaurant. Then we put on a show for the patrons - we set up our tent under the awning so we could walk the assembled tent out into the rain.

After staking the tent by myself we collapsed inside it and went to sleep. The wet grass gave us the most comfortable sleep of the trip. Our 13 hour day soaked us; tired us; took us from 2500m to 2800m to 2500m to 3060m to 1400m; and left us 1 hour from our final destination. It was a great day.

Day One
Day Two
Day Three
Day Four
Day Six

Tateyama to Kamikochi - Day Four

9 August 2010

Today was the latest we slept in for the whole trip - 5:30. We were pretty slow about breaking camp too and didn't get on the trail till 7:00. But today's hike was pretty easy - an ascent to 2800m that would take 4 hours from camp and then a 3 hour descent into the valley and the next camp - so we weren't in a hurry.

By 9:00 we had our first negative interaction with water. Not the rain that would hound us for 6 hours on the next day. Not slipping into a creek and having wet feet. It was something much more sinister - a leaky water bottle.

Hiking up and down mountains produces a good amount of sweat, especially when the sun is beating down. So Aimee didn't give much thought to the water that was making her shirt cling to her like plastic wrap; nor did she give much thought to it while it slowly spread from her shirt down to her shorts. Only when we stopped for a water break and slung off our packs and she noticed the accumulation of water in the bottom of her pack did she - and I - finally give it some thought.

Aimee: I think my water bottle is leaking!

Mike: Shit.

Sure enough, the threads of Aimee's ancient water bottle had finally become so stripped that the lid wasn't sealing. Almost 1 litre of water had run from the top of her bag down to the bottom. Fortunately, her clothes were in a plastic bag, her sleeping bag was in a waterproof compression sack and the only food she had were granola bars (and her loving boyfriend was carrying the tent, his sleeping bag, most of the food and the stove). Luckily we had picked up a 500ml bottle of water from one of the huts since we knew we had a long and sweaty first half to hike today.

We had no further incidents between the mystery of Aimee's wet shorts and ascending to 2800m to eat lunch. Here we ate the last of our delicious walnut bread (it was sorely missed for the remainder of the trip) and complained about having to hike downhill once again. Downhill sucks. Uphill is hard and sweaty and tires out the muscles but extended downhill sections make me want to hurtle myself off the mountain.

We hung out in the valley below for a while because it was the best spot on the trip up to that point. There was a creek we could get water from, there were no people, there was lots of vegetation, there were no people, we watched the mist roll down into the valley from the peak we ate lunch on, and it was quiet because there were no people. And there was a cool boulder.


It was huge. That black speck on the top right corner of the left piece is someone's small backpack. A man had climbed up the back side and was enjoying some solitude. We wanted to do the same but we didn't want to disturb him. The boulder was split right through to the ground - as if Zeus had cleaved it in two with a lightning bolt. More likely it was split by the glacier that dropped it there but geology (geography? both?) just doesn't make for exciting narrative.

We made camp about 2 hours after leaving Zeus' boulder and ran into Glen again. Despite having been one of the first people to arrive at camp he had managed to secure the worst tent site. Draw a straight line. At the bottom of that line put a circle. The line is the path, the circle is the boulder. Glen pitched his tent to the left of the circle, thinking people would take the right hand side around the rock. But that side was more precarious so everyone opted to take the 1 meter path between his tent's door and the rock.

We talked with Glen about hiking, growing organic foods, the problems with the 9-5 lifestyle and all the other problems in the world. He's a very interesting man. He also told us about the 50 acre plot of land he and his wife have on an island in Australia. They're planning to start a farm and possibly host international students. It sounded like an interesting lifestyle. More importantly, he told us about the typhoon that was building to the west of us.

By the middle of the next day the area we were planning on hiking to (Yarigatake) would start to get torrential rains followed by a typhoon. This would be problematic for us since Yarigatake was the jewel of our trip. But there would be no point in summitting it if we did so during a torrential downpour. The split boulder had shown us the awesome power of Zeus' lightning (or, if your inner child is dead and you have no imagination, the awesome power of glaciers moving a centimeter a year) and we had no desire to see what he could do with a storm (or, what would happen when a low-pressure system met with rising warm air). So we plotted an escape route to the south in case, when we reached the fork that would take us east to Yarigatake or south to safety the following morning, the weather was bad. And then we slept.

Day One
Day Two
Day Three
Day Five
Day Six

Tateyama to Kamikochi - Day Three

8 August 2010

The morning of the third day was the most beautiful. Not too clouded over, not raining, not cold - beautiful.

We ate breakfast and packed up in an hour and were on the trail by 6:00. The first four hours of the hike were great - a nice breeze and not too much change in elevation. It took an hour to climb to the second highest peak of the day (2616m) and another hour from there to a peak at 2591m. From there we could see the hut we'd be eating lunch at. It was around 2 kilometers away but we had to drop down to 2000m and then back up to 2300m to get there.

It was a little tiring to trudge down 500m and then back up 300m but we did it in about 2 hours and were only a little hungry and sweaty when we arrived at the camp. Lunch was excellent. We brought salami and Gouda cheese to eat with walnut bread - a delicious combination at home and downright kingly while hiking.


The above picture is at the 2591m mark from where we could see the hut we would eat lunch at.

As we were packing up to head back out Al and Holly came up the trail looking pretty wiped out. As I told you in the last post this was the last time we saw them. They were taking the same route to Kamikochi we were but they likely changed their minds and went a different way. If this were a novel I would tell you that after beginning our descent of the 2926m peak at the end of today's hike we heard the agonizing screams of a man and a woman tumbling down the mountain, followed by the whoosh-whoosh-whoosh of a helicopter coming to rescue the poor souls/collect the bodies. But it's not. As I said they likely changed their minds and went a different way. They had mentioned they might do that exact thing when we first met them. [Brief aside: it costs 3,000,000￥ ($30,000) to be taken off the trail/mountain/rock you're impaled on by helicopter, so be careful.]

After lunch our day got pretty tiring. The ascent to 2926m was long and tiring. We only had to gain 600m but there was a lot of up-down to gain those 600m. We got cranky at different times for different reasons. Me: Hungry and sweaty. Aimee: Sore and tired. It took us about 2.5 hours to get to the top.


There are 5 symbols on the bottom of that post:

• 二 = 2
  
• 九 = 9
  
• 二 = 2
  
• 六 = 6
  
• m = m

This was the highest point of our day. From here we could see another expensive hut and the campsite beyond it that we would be staying at. We took some time to rest and eat and then started on our way again. Even though the hut and the general area of the campsite looked close, we still had 3-4 kilometers to go.

It ended up taking 2.5 hours to get from the peak to the campsite. At least a kilometer of the walk were switchbacks down the mountain to the hut. The slope on the descent side was pretty steep and covered in scree so it was a pain in the ass to descend. About halfway down we started to get passed by endurance runners. Where they came from and where they were going we had no idea. I was impressed enough that someone would run up just the one peak we had just ascended, but we got passed by some more the following day about 10 kilometers from where we first got passed.

We eventually made it to the hut and shortly after it we entered a dry creek bed to complete our descent to the campsite. If this sounds cool it was. At first. The creek bed was pretty easy to navigate at the top but further down the rocks turned into boulders and it became an arduous descent. What was really frustrating was that the people who had built the wooden bridges and walkways we had crossed at earlier spots during our trip were now sending people through a dry creek bed. Aimee and I both thought that the wooden walkways through grasslands were ridiculous and unnecessary, but if they were going to be built then someone should have had the sense to build them around boulder-strewn creek beds instead of across soft, lush grass.

The dry creek bed finally became a wet creek bed and at this point we had made the camp. And we immediately ran into our next foreigner - Glen.

Glen is a 40 year old Australian teaching English in Korea and was vacationing in Japan for a month. He had been all over the South Japan Alps and had hiked a little in Hokkaido (the large island north of Japan). He was a pretty interesting guy and also quite nice. He pointed us to the best campsite in the area. It was up a short path and overlooked the rest of the large campsite. He had already set up his tent before finding it and he didn't want to move. We were quite happy that he told us about it since the campsite was packed. For some reason camping damn near on top of each other doesn't seem to bother most Japanese. In North America most people seek out campsites as far away from others as possible; in Japan most people try to camp as close together as possible. It's really quite strange but it meant that the best spot in the area was open for us.

Glen also mentioned an area of the creek where we could bathe. He had found a way down to the creek and found a pool formed by a small waterfall that was hidden from the path so bathing without being seen was possible. We were elated at this news since we didn't think we'd be able to bathe until we got to Kamikochi, which was still 3 days from where we were. We thanked him again and, like Al and Holly, would only see him one more time...

I'm kidding. We saw him a few more times on the trip. But in the novel he'd either kill us in our sleep at the secluded campsite he conveniently found or slit our throats while we bathed.

After dinner we bathed, brushed our teeth and went to bed clean for the first time in 3 days. It was fantastic.

Day One
Day Two
Day Four
Day Five
Day Six

Tateyama to Kamikochi - Day Two

7 August 2010

We were in bed by about 8:00 the night before but at around 2:00am I woke up to the sounds of tent flies being flapped in the air and blue and orange flashes of light in every direction. It had been raining so in my haze I thought maybe the multicoloured lights were lightning and the flapping sounds were the flies blowing in the wind. Turns out the flapping sounds were the flies being shaken in the air to remove rain water and the lights were from the numerous stoves being lit to make early, early, early morning tea.

Finally realizing that these people were getting up to watch the sun rise over the mountains, and not being concerned with seeing that ourselves, we went back to sleep. We woke up again at 5:00 and decided to catch up to the early birds. When we drew back the flaps of the tent we saw that nearly half of the tents that were there the night before were gone. The mountain was going to be crawling with people.


The people you see above were a group of high school students we passed on our way to the top of Tateyama. There was a group about two times the size of this one that we got on the trail ahead of by about 5 minutes when we left in the morning. There were also numerous groups of elderly people that numbered from 10 people to 30 people. It was crazy.

We made it to the top in good time since most of the sunrise viewers were back down from the peak. Unfortunately it was quite cloudy when we reached the top so the view wasn't great.


Up to this point 3003m was the highest I had ever climbed. I was pretty pleased to have climbed that high, but it was easy in comparison to the climb to the top of Yarigatake. We only had to ascend 600m to get to the top of Tateyama. In 3 days we would have to ascend 1100m to reach the top of Yarigatake, and at a much steeper pitch.

It only took two hours to ascend and then descend Tateyama and get back on the trail, and we only had 4 hours to go from the base of Tateyama to our next camp, so the second day of our trip was pretty easy. There was a lot of アプダウン though according to the sign we saw shortly past the base of Tateyama. Pronounced a-pu-da-oo-n, it took me a few minutes to figure out that it meant "up-down." The sign was a caution that the next several kilometers of the trail were up-down sections. I would have rather not known that from where we were to camp was a lot of up-down since I hate going down hill. But it only took 4 hours to complete and we got to camp early in the afternoon so we had time to relax and talk to the only other foreigners in the camp.

We saw Al and Holly when we went to fill our water bottles at the camp. We stared at them for a while and they stared at us for a while because it's uncommon enough to see other foreigners in large cities here; it's downright rare to see other foreigners on hiking trails. After setting up our tent we went over to introduce ourselves.

Al and Holly are British lawyers working in Tokyo. Al had been in Japan for 5 months and Holly for one. Apparently she drags him on these kinds of expeditions regularly - they've been hiking in the Himalayas and all over Northern Great Britain. They had been hanging out at camp since 11:15. They had taken a night bus from Tokyo and got into the camp we were sleeping in around 5:00am. They skipped climbing Tateyama because it was a "Crocodile line from the bottom to the top," according to Holly (I don't know what a crocodile line is but I understood what she meant), so they only had the 4ish hour hike to do.

We talked about life as foreigners in Japan, which is a topic that can never really be exhausted. Everyone has stories that are interesting to even the most seasoned foreigner living here. Holly is a vegetarian and she told us about how the Japanese don't consider chicken to be meat. We knew this already from experiences our friend Grace has had but it's still funny to hear about. A lot of the time if you ask a waiter "Does this have meat in it?" they'll say "No, just vegetables and chicken." Apparently Holly has this problem frequently and with varying degrees of derision towards her by the waiters when she tells them she doesn't eat any meat - even chicken.

We haven't been able to figure out why chicken isn't considered meat. It's possible that chicken is classified as a non-meat for Japanese vegetarians the same way fish is classified as a non-meat for some Western vegetarians. Another mystery I'll have to solve before we leave.

We talked for about an hour before heading off to make dinner and relax for the afternoon. This would be the only day of the trip where we'd have much spare time, since the remaining days would be more difficult in terms of terrain that would be covered, distance covered, and time spent hiking. Al and Holly were following the same route we were so we agreed to meet up at the next camp but we only ended up seeing them one more time - at the half-way point the following day.

Day One
Day Three
Day Four
Day Five
Day Six

Tateyama to Kamikochi - Day One

From 6 to 11 August, Aimee and I hiked from Tateyama in Toyama to Kamikochi near Takayama City. It was a 65km hike which included summitting three 3000m+ peaks. The peak you see in the distance was the highest peak we summitted - Yarigatake. "Yari" is Japanese for spear - the mountain is so named because it looks like a spear is being thrust into the sky.

The peak of Yarigatake is 3180m, but we only made it to the campsite/expensive mountain hut at 3060m. The clouds you see to the left of the peak in the picture were the finger tips of a typhoon. Eventually the white fingers closed into a black fist that hammered the peak and the surrounding area for more than 6 hours. The initial blow came about 20 minutes after we began our descent. But more on that in the day 4 post.

6 August 2010

We caught a train at 7:50am bound for Toyama. Toyama is a city on the west side of Honshu (the main island of Japan) on the Japan Sea. We didn't see much of the city until the 4th day when we were high enough to look back on it. After arriving in Toyama we immediately took a one hour local train to the base of Tateyama. From there we took a 10 minute cable car ride to a bus station and from the bus station a one hour ride to Murodo. Murodo is at ~2400m and is the base camp for about a dozen different North Japan Alps climbing and hiking routes. The place was packed with people.

It's hard to see in the picture but there are close to 100 tents crammed together down there. Some of them looked like they would sleep 20 people. These belonged to base campers - people who stayed at Murodo and did day trips up the various peaks surrounding Murodo. They had every luxury you'd expect to have at home - except for a television. A lot of the base campers were parents with children or high school groups who were probably just there to climb to the summit of Tateyama. Tateyama is popular because it is one of Japan's Three Holy Mountains (Mount Fuji and Mount Haku are the other two).

After setting up our meager (by comparison) tent we set off to explore the sulfur fields. Murodo is situated near an active volcano which releases sulfuric gas into the air. In order to make it very clear where you are and what you're climbing, the volcano is also called Tateyama.

The sulfur fields were cool. They stank. But they were cool nonetheless. There was all kinds of gas being released everywhere. More irritating than the rotten egg smell was the recording that kept playing in Japanese, Chinese and English warning us to stay on the path and not to venture into the sulfur fields. In any other country there would just be a simple sign telling people not to be fucking stupid (at least if I was in charge of making those kinds of signs that's what they'd say) since it's pretty obvious that you shouldn't run through a jet of steam that was heated by a volcano. But in Japan there's a recording that plays all day (7:00am to 7:00pm). However, there's only a sign (and only at the end of the trail, not the beginning!) to explain that should the air raid sirens situated throughout the area go off it's because the poisonous gas has reached a lethal level and you should promptly evacuate the area. But don't run.

It was also interesting how the steam was released. There were tiny puddles on the path that bubbled slightly and there were giant ponds that erupted 1.5 meters into the air. What we found most interesting was that some of the pools were quite hot while others were quite cool. This was because the fissures in the ground were only releasing steam, not water. If the gas was released into a pool of standing water it became quite hot; if it was released into moving water it stayed quite cool.

We returned to camp to have dinner and sleep early since we wanted to get ahead of the hoards of people the following morning. Turns out half the people in camp got up at 2:00am to get to the top of Tateyama to watch the sun rise so it didn't matter that we went to bed early. But more on that in the day 2 post.

Day Two
Day Three
Day Four
Day Five
Day Six