Doshisha Days

I was awoken by the wrist watch alarms around 4, and by 5 half the shelter had been deserted by people obviously more concerned than we about reaching their destination by sundown. I checked in with Milo before heading out, around 5:30 to check in with Joe and Haunani. They were already awake having slept in a tent on what proved to be a rather frigid night under the thick cover of fog that clung to the ground in such high elevations. We gathered all our belongings and set off for Miynoura-dake, the tallest peak on the island and the whole of southern Japan.

It took us a few minutes to realize it was not raining. Instead the severe winds were blasting the dew off of the trees and onto us below. A few instances I thought I was going to be knocked over and standing still for too long without cover was no fun at all. We slowly ascended above the tree line and were now climbing on and around massive boulders, seemingly placed haphazardly around us by giants long ago. At last we reached the juncture where the road split in two: one toward the summit and then south toward the coast and one west where we would later have another set of options. We chose to head west and so we dropped off our bags and summit the peak. I ran for about 40 meters before almost falling on my face, and then resigned myself to walking the rest of the way, a prescient move in the end.

As we approached the summit, the sky started to clear, and we were finally treated to a majestic view of our surroundings, up until then obscured by the dense cloud cover. It was a 360 degree view of rolling hills and peaks, green terrain interspersed with massive boulders. We stayed up there until the wind became too much and we headed back to collect our things. On our way toward our next junction, we climbed another peak, which had similarly majestic vantage points. We could not see the ocean, it being obscured by the distant cloud cover.


We then started our descent and the terrain made a abrupt change once again. The trail seemed to lead down into a small ditch underneath a tree branch and at once, the arid alpine terrain gave way to dense humid forrest. I felt like I had fallen down a rabbit hole. All of us were astounded by the speed at which the terrain changed. We were once again jumping from rock to rock and over puddles in effort to not get wet. We finally arrived at another campsite, where we made lunch and prepared for a final 16 kilometer push to the shore.



The hike was long and tiring. All of us were feeling the weight of our packs as we made the final push anyone. The west side of the island was completely empty, or perhaps people had chosen to hike earlier in the day so they could make it back before nightfall. We were not so lucky. At 7 pm we had made it to a service road that lead down to the main ring road that circumnavigates the island, but there were no people or cars to be found. And so we hiked down the final 7 kilometers underneath the stars. Weary and forlorn, we arrived at the main road and made our dinner in a parking. Fifteen minutes had gone by and a car passed us. We flagged it down and inquired about lodging for the night. They told us that there was a beach side campsite only a 15 minute walk down the road. Nice. A van, going the direction we needed to go, passed not soon off the mountain side. While mostly downhill (we had been coming form the highest point of the island no less) there were plenty of uphill still - which we of course noticed quite quickly. We stopped a few times, to drink water, to take in the beauty of this beautiful island a final time. We were most definitely not bothered by after. Milo ran out and flagged it down, jumping up and down with far more energy and enthusiasm than I had guessed we had in all of us combined. The driver got out, and we explained our situation - while a Japanese couple sat frightened in the passenger seats as if we were a group of North Koreans. The driver, on the other hand, was more sympathetic to our predicament and our state of utter exhaustion, having hiked 22 km since 6 am that morning, helped us load our gear into her van and drove us to the campsite where we set up camp and I collapsed inside my tent, physically spent.

Joe came to our tent right after this to inform us that a sea turtle was laying eggs on the beach and that a group of Japanese were heading out to see it. Milo had hoped to catch a glimpse of these amazing creatures and she got out of her bag and headed down to the beach to check it out. I do not regret my decision to stay, although I do know that I missed an amazing site. Sea turtles come ashore on Yakushima during May and June and lay there eggs in the sand before heading back out to sea. Although most turtles come to the northern beaches, this one turtle came to the beach we were staying on the south-west section of the island.

We woke up at 8 the next morning, Milo and I took a stroll down to the beach after breakfast and before packing up and moving out. We had to make it back to the port at Miyanoura on the Northeast side of the island by noon to catch our ferry back to the mainland. A bus left a little after 10 down the road from the camp ground but we were going to try to hitch our way back. Joe flagged down a small car with two older women and they said they were going to check out the waterfall and that they would stop and pick up Milo and I on the way back, while Joe and Haunani tried to find another road. Sure enough, 10 minutes later they came and Milo and I got in. The sky was clear and the inland mountains were clearly visible as we drove along the coast. The women said that there was still plenty of time and so we stopped at a hotel for some coffee and juice. Milo had fresh passion fruit juice and I drank a coffee. When I attempted to buy some gifts for people in the store, they insisted on paying for that as well. I cease to be amazed at the hospitality and generosity of the Japanese, particularly those in the countryside.

The kind ladies dropped us off at the pier with time to spare and we waited for the other half of our crew. I finally got a message from Joe, he was not sure if they were going to make it, the bus was running late. Milo and I decided that it would be better to wait for them on the island and not in Kagoshima and so we asked the ticketing agent to change our tickets. At 11:55 the last call for boarding came and went, but at 11:58 the bus arrived with our companions and we raced to the dock where we were ushered on board and into first class (they let us sit wherever we wanted, and we gladly complied). Two hours later we were back on the mainland and our adventure on Yakushima had ended.

The final days of our trip were nice and relaxing. Joe and Haunani went back up to Kumamoto the night we got back and Milo and I spent a nice relaxing , albeit rainy, day wandering around Kagoshima and then taking the shinkansen back up to Kumamoto, where we dined on Sri Lankan and bought some final omiyage for our friends in Kyoto. It was a perfect trip, from the companions to the weather to the sites, it was quite simply a golden week.

We set out from camp a little after 8 am, by far the tardiest, most ill prepared hikers there, replete with bags between our socks and our shoes - the poor man's waterproof boots. We hiked down along the waterlogged trail before our descent ended at a set of railroad tracks, and quickly deduced that it would not be prudent to wait for the next train (the tracks are remnants from when the island was used by loggers). We hiked inland further, reaching a rest area with toilets and electricity (to her relief, Milo found a plug for her digital camera charger inside).

We took a short respite before resuming our hike, now an ascent into the thick interior of the island where most of the old growth forest was. After passing throngs of people, all of whom were on their way down and out, we made it to Wilson’s Stump, a hollowed-out shell of a magnificent cedar that was felled many years ago and then named for the American botanist who discovered the glen where the stump remained. A small Shinto Shrine was erected inside and the walls inside framed the massive trees towering above us perfectly.

A kilometer or so from there – and a grueling 45 minute hike – we finally arrived at the largest cedar on the island and in Japan, and perhaps the oldest tree on the planet. Jomon-sugi is an estimated 7200 years old, and is 28 meters in girth. This tree has existed since the time Japan (pottery has been unearthed from this period), and most of the planet, were mere hunter-gatherers. Although there are plenty of trees that are larger and taller, the sheer age of the tree has given it a distinct charisma (which, let’s face, most trees lack) that make it such a site to behold.

A scant few kilometers from the tree, we arrived at another encampment and decided to stop for the evening. We ate a hearty meal of pasta and brown and black rice with miso. We concluded the evening with a game of cribbage before heading off to bed. Milo and I had found space in the cabin, but Joe and Haunani chose to camp outside this time due to cramped quarters inside. The wind began to whip through the trees as the sun set, being at altitude brought a heavy fog and colder temperatures than elsewhere on the island. We slept well that night and we needed it. Being in the very center of the island meant that we would have our hands full the following day, which proved to be the hardest day of the hike…

The final days of April and first week of May is one of the the craziest times to be in Japan. Like Voltron or Captain Planet, four somewhat mundane Japanese holidays join forces to make one super holiday affectionately referred to as Golden Week (ask any Japanese the significance of any single holiday and you will likely be met with blank stares). Of course, most Japanese end up doing the same thing during this week: travel. Buses are packed to the gills, airlines gouge their customers and seats on the shinkansen are hot commodities.

Instead of staying in Kyoto as I had last Golden Week, my lovely girlfriend, Milo, and I decided to head to Kyushu to visit my buddy Joe from Vassar who is teaching English in Kumamoto City. A few weeks prior, we booked tickets on a 12 hour night bus while letting Joe sort out our week long adventure once we got there. We were not disappointed.

Our ride was more pleasant than expected and we arrived in Kumamoto around 9 am on Saturday the 28th of April. Joe met us at the bus stop and walked us back to his apartment where we unloaded our packs and ate a breakfast of coffee with honey, fresh fruit and soba noodles in miso. Being sufficiently stuffed, the three of us along with Haunani, Joe's Hawaiin friend who had just flown in from Istanbul the day before, we took a leisurely stroll down to Kumamoto Castle, one of Japan's grandest, known for its expansive walls that repelled the onslaught of rebels opposing the Meiji Restoration. That day, the castle and the adjacent park was hosting a myriad assortment of activities, including an air show featuring the Japanese version of the Blue Angels (The were of course tons of photos taken on this trip, and four is not even close to doing this justice so please check out my photo website if my words are no sufficient). The planes streaked across the heavens; they passed the castle and the crowds below in various formations, their exhaust creating Olympic rings and hearts in the strikingly stark blue sky, nary a cloud was in sight.

After the show, a small group of Joe's friends converged on Joe's house for dinner and drink. We feasted on Milo's famous guacamole, a massive salad and copious amounts of wine. We then headed to a German beer hall and to a salsa club. By the end of the night, exhaustion had set in and I slept deeply on the tatami mats in the apartment.

We awoke the following day and had another hearty breakfast before heading down to Kagoshima city, the southernmost prefecture in Kyushu. Milo and I snagged a ride with Joe's Canadian friend Amy while Joe and Haunani hitched hiked down from outside Kumamoto city. We arrived before dusk and checked into our ryokan across from the city hall and were joied with our two companions shortly thereafter. We hit the town, eating and drinking and playing cribbige until late into the night. The futons in the ryokan were quite comfortable, and they were the last beds we were to have until the end of the week.

Morning came early, and after showers and packing, we headed down to the ferry terminal were we boarded a hydro-foil bound for Yakushima, approximately 60 km south of Cape Sata and mainland Kyushu. Yakushima is one of the most treasured natural sites in all of Japan, its topography and climate (very wet!) have made it the home to the tallest mountain in Southern Japan, Miyanoura-dake, as well as some of the oldest trees on the planet, including Jomon-sugi, which is estimated to be around 7200 years old.

We disembarked around noon, gathered our supplies for the next few days as we cut a path across this 25km-in-diameter island. By 2 pm, we had arrived at the trailhead and descended into the dense damp forrest. The first trees we encountered were mainly second growth trees that had sprung up from the remnants of the older trees; it was symbiotic or even parasitic in nature, the way the trees wrapped themselves around each other. The vernal greenness of the place is hard to describe, even in photos. Around 5 we made it to the first camping area (camping on the island outside designated areas is forbidden). Unable to push any further today, we entered the (cement) hut and made camp on the wooden platforms. The place stuck of urine - the bathroom was foolishly built inside.

We dropped off our stuff and then hiked out to a magnificent outlook were we drunk up a majestic vista of the valley below us. In the distance was Miyanoura-dake, the tallest peak. We would be standing there in two days time. Ominous clouds barrelled over the peaks in the distance as a river cut through the valley floor below. Eventually the wind had taken its toll on us and we descened back to camp. We made food under cover as the rain started to fall and we all began to dread what we expected was going to be a wet second day.

The others at the campsite started stirring before first light. All I could hear was the sound of water and was unsuprisingly reluctant to make a move. Joe on the other hand was up and discovered that the sound of water was coming not from the heavens, but from an adjacent stream. Although there still was a light mist and trickle, this brought great relief to us and we set out the second day around 8 am.