I wrote 3 months ago about some strange stuff I saw one day. I've since seen much more pornographic sandwich board advertising and have even seen more of the little Michael Jackson impersonator. But until today I hadn't seen much more strange subway stuff.
I was riding home from school practicing Japanese and two Japanese girls sat down beside me. I didn't give them much thought and went back to trying to learn 3000 kanji so I can read a Japanese book (only ~2850 to go!).
A few stops after the girls got on the train I noticed a guy shoving himself through what was now a crowded subway car. He wasn't excusing himself as he pushed his way from one end to the other. He was making for the other end of the car but when he was perpendicular to the girl two spots to the right of me he made an abrupt turn toward her and pushed his way past a couple more people to stand in front of her. He grabbed two of the rings hanging from the ceiling and then leaned in, bringing his face about 4 centimeters from hers.
From the moment I noticed this asshole shoving himself through the crowd to the point where he leaned into this girl's face was about 10 seconds. At first I thought he was just a rude asshole; then I thought that this rude asshole must know this girl because he made an abrupt turn toward her. But he didn't.
Immediately after leaning into her personal space he repeatedly shouted "Sumimasen! Sumimasen!" ("Excuse me! Excuse me!"). He shouted for about five seconds and then, disgusted that the girl didn't acknowledge him, resumed pushing his way through the crowd to the other end of the train car.
I was totally fixated on this guy: from the moment I noticed him pushing his way through the crowd, to when he was shouting at the girl, to when he stormed off in anger, I didn't take my eyes off of him. And I was the only one. Not a single person cared that he was pushing his way through the crowd; not a single person cared that he was shouting at some girl; and not a single person cared when he resumed shoving his way through the crowd. The strangest part was that the girl he was shouting at didn't bat an eyelash while he shouted at her.
When the screamer exited the car I looked over at the girl and she was gorgeous - and very composed. Her beauty explained why the guy took an interest in her but I wasn't able to figure out how she remained totally serene. It bothered me more than it did her that she got screamed at by this guy. She acted as if he hadn't existed. Maybe she's adjusted to these kinds of things the same way women in North American adjust to being hooted and hollered at?
If I spoke better Japanese I would have loved to talk to her about the whole episode. If I ever see her again I'll have a leg up on the competition, too - I'll know not to break the ice with a "Sumimasen."
21 September 2010
16 September 2010
How We Almost Killed Our Japanese Friend
Most of you know that we've got some elderly Japanese friends who like to show us around Japan. This past Sunday we went with them to Yunouyama Onsen to go hiking. They had wanted to take us out hiking ever since they rescued us back in May and the weather had finally cooperated (read: cooled down) enough that we could go hiking with them. Or so we believed.
We met them at the train station at 7:00 in the morning and caught up on what we'd all been up to since the last time we were together. Yasuo (the one we're closest with) had climbed up a mountain near Fujisan and he showed us some pictures of his adventure; we showed him some from our summer hike from Tateyama to Kamikochi.
The train ride out to the base of the mountain was an hour and a half. On the way I practiced my Japanese and Yasuo practiced his English. My Japanese is a lot better when I practice it in my head - when I actually have to speak Japanese to Japanese people I get nervous and verbally stumble around like an idiot. I'm sure it's very endearing to my Japanese friends but for me it's frustrating.
When we got to the base of the mountain, Yasuo pointed out the hotel where we'd be drinking beer and relaxing in the onsen after our hike. It was a ritzy looking European-style hotel. We were excited to get into the onsen but then Yasuo told us that it wasn't a real onsen - it was just boiled water. This news was a little disappointing but after a long hike even a hot bath feels good.
Early into the hike Yasuo set a pace that was good by our standards - we had expected something a little slower from a man who is in his seventies. But it started to wear on him after about 30 minutes. I think he was worried that we would be frustrated if he slowed down. We assured him we wouldn't but it's difficult to do in a language that neither Aimee nor I have enough skill in to express more than basic feelings. By the time we reached the halfway point he was pretty burned out. Though after some water and a snack you wouldn't know it looking at him.
The above picture was at the halfway point. From right to left: Yasuo, Hayashi-san, and the-guy-with-calves-like-steel-cables.
After snacking at the halfway point, Yauso told us that our group would be splitting into two. He, Hayashi-san and their other friend would form one group and Aimee, me and Steel Cable Calves would form the second group. We would go on ahead since we were younger and the other group would meet us at the top. Please note that we were the younger group in name only - Steel Cable Calves is 60 years old. And he ran us up that mountain like a couple of dogs.
I had been watching Steel Cable Calves for most of the first half of the hike. He was very nonchalant about the hike; he had an air of sprezratura about him that couldn't be ignored. It seemed like he didn't care if he had to walk up the mountain or bound up it as fast as he could. He was more than willing to show us that the latter was as easy as the former.
As soon as I slung my bag onto my back, Steel Cable Calves took off like a shot. His pace was like a speed-walker, but up hill. He didn't scramble up rocks so much as he leaped over them. It was impressive but after a little while it became a little bothersome. Hiking at a fast pace means your eyes are glued to the trail because you don't want to slip up. You can't enjoy any of the scenery and enjoying the scenery is half the reason we go hiking, especially when the view from below the top is a lot better.
To get to the top of Gozaisho (the highest peak in the area, 1212m) you can either hike or take a cable car. If you know me well you can see where I'm going here. Once we got to the top, The Hikers and The Cable Car People mix together and the two just don't fit. I realize I'm generalizing, so please spare me, but I don't like The Cable Car People. It's a 2 hour hike at an easy pace from the bottom of the mountain to the top - there is no reason to build a cable car, a restaurant, a washroom, a petting zoo, a ski hill that maybe has a vertical gain of 100m, and a chair lift for said ski hill. Ridiculous.
The view from the top was beautiful but it was marred by the infrastructure and the crowds of Cable Car People. It was also irritating how impressed The Cable Car People were when we told them that we hiked up instead of taking the cable car. "You hiked up!? Wow, that must have been difficult." No, it wasn't. It's 1212 vertical meters - it's pretty easy. Anyone can do it. Our seventy year old friend is doing it right now. Next time try walking up, and then tell your friends, and then maybe more cable cars and everything associated with them won't be built.
About 20 minutes after we reached the top, Hayashi-san found us and told us that Yasuo was struggling with the heat and the steepness of the paths and that he and the other guy would be a while getting up. He told us to go on to the next peak and then head down and that he, Yasuo and the other guy would take the cable car down and meet us at the onsen. At this I could feel Steel Cable Calves ears perk up. It was as if sitting and waiting was more trying for him than hauling ass up a mountain.
Steel Cable Calves descended the mountain like a mountain goat. He jumped from boulder to boulder and damn near ran on boulder-free parts of the trail. Aimee did a pretty good job keeping pace with him but I had no interest in doing so so I ambled along behind them. I saw some cool spiders and some really nice rapids that Steel Cable Calves and Aimee missed out on.
We got to the onsen about 10 minutes before the group coming down in the cable car so we went in without them. I didn't think I would be able to tell the difference between a real onsen and a man-made one but I could. It was strange. The water had too much of a processed smell to it. But, there was a cold bath and that more than made up for the onsen being fake. After loosening my muscles in the various hot baths the cold bath was very refreshing.
After cleaning ourselves up we enjoyed some beers in the lounge while we waited for the bus. Yasuo kept apologizing for not being able to make it to the top which made us feel worse for having suggested we hike up Gozaisho. We assured him that it didn't bother us at all and that we were very worried about him when Hayashi-san told us he was struggling to make it to the top. When we got home we got an email from Yasuo suggesting that our next outing be somewhere flat and we happily agreed. Maybe one of us will have to race Steel Cable Calves.
We met them at the train station at 7:00 in the morning and caught up on what we'd all been up to since the last time we were together. Yasuo (the one we're closest with) had climbed up a mountain near Fujisan and he showed us some pictures of his adventure; we showed him some from our summer hike from Tateyama to Kamikochi.
The train ride out to the base of the mountain was an hour and a half. On the way I practiced my Japanese and Yasuo practiced his English. My Japanese is a lot better when I practice it in my head - when I actually have to speak Japanese to Japanese people I get nervous and verbally stumble around like an idiot. I'm sure it's very endearing to my Japanese friends but for me it's frustrating.
When we got to the base of the mountain, Yasuo pointed out the hotel where we'd be drinking beer and relaxing in the onsen after our hike. It was a ritzy looking European-style hotel. We were excited to get into the onsen but then Yasuo told us that it wasn't a real onsen - it was just boiled water. This news was a little disappointing but after a long hike even a hot bath feels good.
Early into the hike Yasuo set a pace that was good by our standards - we had expected something a little slower from a man who is in his seventies. But it started to wear on him after about 30 minutes. I think he was worried that we would be frustrated if he slowed down. We assured him we wouldn't but it's difficult to do in a language that neither Aimee nor I have enough skill in to express more than basic feelings. By the time we reached the halfway point he was pretty burned out. Though after some water and a snack you wouldn't know it looking at him.
The above picture was at the halfway point. From right to left: Yasuo, Hayashi-san, and the-guy-with-calves-like-steel-cables.After snacking at the halfway point, Yauso told us that our group would be splitting into two. He, Hayashi-san and their other friend would form one group and Aimee, me and Steel Cable Calves would form the second group. We would go on ahead since we were younger and the other group would meet us at the top. Please note that we were the younger group in name only - Steel Cable Calves is 60 years old. And he ran us up that mountain like a couple of dogs.
I had been watching Steel Cable Calves for most of the first half of the hike. He was very nonchalant about the hike; he had an air of sprezratura about him that couldn't be ignored. It seemed like he didn't care if he had to walk up the mountain or bound up it as fast as he could. He was more than willing to show us that the latter was as easy as the former.
As soon as I slung my bag onto my back, Steel Cable Calves took off like a shot. His pace was like a speed-walker, but up hill. He didn't scramble up rocks so much as he leaped over them. It was impressive but after a little while it became a little bothersome. Hiking at a fast pace means your eyes are glued to the trail because you don't want to slip up. You can't enjoy any of the scenery and enjoying the scenery is half the reason we go hiking, especially when the view from below the top is a lot better.
To get to the top of Gozaisho (the highest peak in the area, 1212m) you can either hike or take a cable car. If you know me well you can see where I'm going here. Once we got to the top, The Hikers and The Cable Car People mix together and the two just don't fit. I realize I'm generalizing, so please spare me, but I don't like The Cable Car People. It's a 2 hour hike at an easy pace from the bottom of the mountain to the top - there is no reason to build a cable car, a restaurant, a washroom, a petting zoo, a ski hill that maybe has a vertical gain of 100m, and a chair lift for said ski hill. Ridiculous.
The view from the top was beautiful but it was marred by the infrastructure and the crowds of Cable Car People. It was also irritating how impressed The Cable Car People were when we told them that we hiked up instead of taking the cable car. "You hiked up!? Wow, that must have been difficult." No, it wasn't. It's 1212 vertical meters - it's pretty easy. Anyone can do it. Our seventy year old friend is doing it right now. Next time try walking up, and then tell your friends, and then maybe more cable cars and everything associated with them won't be built.
About 20 minutes after we reached the top, Hayashi-san found us and told us that Yasuo was struggling with the heat and the steepness of the paths and that he and the other guy would be a while getting up. He told us to go on to the next peak and then head down and that he, Yasuo and the other guy would take the cable car down and meet us at the onsen. At this I could feel Steel Cable Calves ears perk up. It was as if sitting and waiting was more trying for him than hauling ass up a mountain.
Steel Cable Calves descended the mountain like a mountain goat. He jumped from boulder to boulder and damn near ran on boulder-free parts of the trail. Aimee did a pretty good job keeping pace with him but I had no interest in doing so so I ambled along behind them. I saw some cool spiders and some really nice rapids that Steel Cable Calves and Aimee missed out on.
We got to the onsen about 10 minutes before the group coming down in the cable car so we went in without them. I didn't think I would be able to tell the difference between a real onsen and a man-made one but I could. It was strange. The water had too much of a processed smell to it. But, there was a cold bath and that more than made up for the onsen being fake. After loosening my muscles in the various hot baths the cold bath was very refreshing.
After cleaning ourselves up we enjoyed some beers in the lounge while we waited for the bus. Yasuo kept apologizing for not being able to make it to the top which made us feel worse for having suggested we hike up Gozaisho. We assured him that it didn't bother us at all and that we were very worried about him when Hayashi-san told us he was struggling to make it to the top. When we got home we got an email from Yasuo suggesting that our next outing be somewhere flat and we happily agreed. Maybe one of us will have to race Steel Cable Calves.
05 September 2010
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
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
02 September 2010
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
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
22 August 2010
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.
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
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
17 August 2010
Utsumi Beach
Aimee and I went to the beach for the first time yesterday so I thought I'd take a break from the hiking updates to talk about our first beach experience.
Highlights:
After setting up as close to the water as possible we kicked off our shoes again and ran into the water. You know how back home it's little kids who run as fast as they can into the water and then fall over? At this beach that was what everyone did. No one was walking casually into the water. They were running [and shouting "atsui, atsui!" (atsui means hot) if their location happened to be far from the water] as fast as they could. Surprisingly it wasn't from running and popping out of her bikini that we saw our first Japanese girl's breast (and unfortunately for you that last sentence wasn't a transition sentence for the next paragraph).
We made it into the water without burning our feet and got to enjoy our first experience swimming in the ocean. Not just in Japan - anywhere. When we lived in Victoria the ocean was always too cold to swim in. I tried a few times to swim to an island in the summer but there were too many boats going through the channel and I feared I would be run over. However, I only had to fear being swam over by one of the numerous people who were in the water yesterday. It actually wasn't as busy as I thought it would be. There were lots of people but it was no more busy than Sauble Beach during the summer.
Swimming in the ocean was a lot of fun. Even though I knew it wouldn't hurt I was still surprised that salt water didn't sting my eyes when I opened them underwater. It stung Aimee's eyes though because she wears contacts and the water gets trapped behind the lense. The only downside to swimming in the ocean was the film of salt leftover after you dry out. Oh, and being incredibly thirsty when you get out of the water.
After our first swim we got something to eat. We were craving hamburgers and there just happened to be a hamburger shop on the strip. Unfortunately they were Japanese-style hamburgers, which means they were loaded with a ketchup/tomato sauce/salsa topping. It's not good on hamburgers and almost all hamburgers in Japan are made with this sauce on them. The exceptions we've found are a 50s diner near our place and McDonald's. I haven't yet been desperate enough for a hamburger to go to McDonald's.
We washed down our hamburgers with some ice cream and then went back into the water and, yes, saw our first bare Japanese breast.
Swimming ahead of us was a man pushing his girlfriend in a floating chair thingy. She was tanning and giggling, like girls do at the beach. The following quick conversation ensued:
So we were swimming behind this guy pushing his girlfriend in her chair thingy. He kept trying to do something to her (poke her, touch her - I'm not sure) and she kept giggling like girls do when they're acting like what you're doing is something they don't want you to do. You know what I'm talking about. You have your arm around your girlfriend and then you casually slide your hand down to her bum and she giggles and slaps your hand away because that's what propriety demands. But she's not upset and you know that because of the giggle. This is what that girl was doing. And this is what she continued to do when he reached up and pulled her bikini down, exposing her breast.
Aimee and I found the whole episode incredibly funny. We are in Japan but the exact same things happen here that happen at home. I've seen this exact scene play out at every beach I've been to. This girl pretended to be angry and put on that pout face that girls have - you know the one - when they're trying to act indignant. But based on her reaction we figured she kind of enjoyed it. That and she didn't kick the shit out of him. Because I've seen this scene play out like that before, too. The guy pulls down a girl's bikini and she goes ballistic - rightfully so: don't take my amusement at this particular situation as condoning the behaviour - and beats him senseless. That is infinitely more amusing to me than seeing an exposed breast.
We enjoyed our first beach experience, but only because of the swimming. It was far too hot to do anything other than swim. We brought towels and books to lay on the beach and read but any part of our bodies that wasn't in the water immediately started to sweat. So the only thing you could comfortably do was swim.
Highlights:
- we burned the bottom of our feet
- we swam in the ocean for the first time
- we ate gross hamburgers
- we saw our first bare Japanese breast
After setting up as close to the water as possible we kicked off our shoes again and ran into the water. You know how back home it's little kids who run as fast as they can into the water and then fall over? At this beach that was what everyone did. No one was walking casually into the water. They were running [and shouting "atsui, atsui!" (atsui means hot) if their location happened to be far from the water] as fast as they could. Surprisingly it wasn't from running and popping out of her bikini that we saw our first Japanese girl's breast (and unfortunately for you that last sentence wasn't a transition sentence for the next paragraph).
We made it into the water without burning our feet and got to enjoy our first experience swimming in the ocean. Not just in Japan - anywhere. When we lived in Victoria the ocean was always too cold to swim in. I tried a few times to swim to an island in the summer but there were too many boats going through the channel and I feared I would be run over. However, I only had to fear being swam over by one of the numerous people who were in the water yesterday. It actually wasn't as busy as I thought it would be. There were lots of people but it was no more busy than Sauble Beach during the summer.
Swimming in the ocean was a lot of fun. Even though I knew it wouldn't hurt I was still surprised that salt water didn't sting my eyes when I opened them underwater. It stung Aimee's eyes though because she wears contacts and the water gets trapped behind the lense. The only downside to swimming in the ocean was the film of salt leftover after you dry out. Oh, and being incredibly thirsty when you get out of the water.
After our first swim we got something to eat. We were craving hamburgers and there just happened to be a hamburger shop on the strip. Unfortunately they were Japanese-style hamburgers, which means they were loaded with a ketchup/tomato sauce/salsa topping. It's not good on hamburgers and almost all hamburgers in Japan are made with this sauce on them. The exceptions we've found are a 50s diner near our place and McDonald's. I haven't yet been desperate enough for a hamburger to go to McDonald's.
We washed down our hamburgers with some ice cream and then went back into the water and, yes, saw our first bare Japanese breast.
Swimming ahead of us was a man pushing his girlfriend in a floating chair thingy. She was tanning and giggling, like girls do at the beach. The following quick conversation ensued:
Aimee: Japanese girls have no role here other than to dress prettily and giggle.
Mike: How is that stereotype any different than the stereotype of North American girls at the beach?
So we were swimming behind this guy pushing his girlfriend in her chair thingy. He kept trying to do something to her (poke her, touch her - I'm not sure) and she kept giggling like girls do when they're acting like what you're doing is something they don't want you to do. You know what I'm talking about. You have your arm around your girlfriend and then you casually slide your hand down to her bum and she giggles and slaps your hand away because that's what propriety demands. But she's not upset and you know that because of the giggle. This is what that girl was doing. And this is what she continued to do when he reached up and pulled her bikini down, exposing her breast.
Aimee and I found the whole episode incredibly funny. We are in Japan but the exact same things happen here that happen at home. I've seen this exact scene play out at every beach I've been to. This girl pretended to be angry and put on that pout face that girls have - you know the one - when they're trying to act indignant. But based on her reaction we figured she kind of enjoyed it. That and she didn't kick the shit out of him. Because I've seen this scene play out like that before, too. The guy pulls down a girl's bikini and she goes ballistic - rightfully so: don't take my amusement at this particular situation as condoning the behaviour - and beats him senseless. That is infinitely more amusing to me than seeing an exposed breast.
We enjoyed our first beach experience, but only because of the swimming. It was far too hot to do anything other than swim. We brought towels and books to lay on the beach and read but any part of our bodies that wasn't in the water immediately started to sweat. So the only thing you could comfortably do was swim.
14 August 2010
Tateyama to Kamikochi - Day Three
8 August 2010The 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
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
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