I'll be jumping a little ahead into my summer in Iida for this week's post. We're moving forward to some of the waning days of our 10-week summer program. By this time, most of the ongoing activities I've discussed in earlier posts had come to a close and all we had left was a few practices with the good people of the Imada Puppet Fest to fine-tune our puppetry before our debut on the international performing scene. As such, we went from days being as packed as a Calvin and Hobbes comic book to only one or two scheduled activities a week.
While the end of the summer was only the start of a new beginning in Japan for me, Aug. 8, 2012, meant for all but one of my fellow students the end of this particular stint in the country. Although I was going to be staying on during the coming academic year, I still more than wanted to make the most of the time I had left with people who had become some of my closest friends. To that end, many of us made it our goal to explore as much of Iida and the surrounding countryside to the fullest we could with our remaining time together.
Our professor, Martin Holman, had teased us all summer with his knowledge of several supposedly "off-the-beaten-path" waterfalls that made for both excellent scenery and an excellent hike along the way. In the final weeks of our stay, we made sure to finally call him on his claim. Despite several warnings from TLC, we were set to chase those waterfalls. On a rainy, overcast Friday, Holman-sensei was finally worn down and he rented a car for us to make a trip.
Despite all Holman-sensei's assurances that the mountains surrounding Iida had plenty of those beautiful natural wonders, we actually
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Tuesday, September 30, 2014
Friday, September 26, 2014
The Chuo Alps Pt. II: The Summit
When we last left our three intrepid mountain-climbers, myself, Shawn and Joe had just taken a respite after climbing a set of mountainside stairs rivaling those Frodo climbed to Cirith Ungol in the Two Towers. We were rather close to the summit and so the surrounding pass was wreathed in a blanket comprised of fog and clouds alike. It reminded me of a scene from 2005's "The Fog," but I don't think there were any ghost pirates/lepers hidden in the mist. (A reference to both the greatest fantasy movie series of all time and one of the worst b-movie horror films in one paragraph? Check.)
After a few hundred yards, we came upon a small hot spring resort of sorts. Naturally occurring hot springs were fairly common in Japan, however I'm not sure if this one was man-made or not, but it offered hikers and climbers a chance to soak in a warm tub as well as food and drinks. Unfortunately all this cost money, of which we had little. So we decided to continue on.
Shortly after passing the hot spring, the path leading along the mountain ridge diverged, one way leading north, further along the ridge, and the other with a sign directing us to the summit. Time being short we opted for the summit path over exploration, though not for lack of interest. After turning south, some of the fog cleared and we got a better idea of where we were to go to finish our climb.
The southern ridge leading to the summit was significantly narrower
After a few hundred yards, we came upon a small hot spring resort of sorts. Naturally occurring hot springs were fairly common in Japan, however I'm not sure if this one was man-made or not, but it offered hikers and climbers a chance to soak in a warm tub as well as food and drinks. Unfortunately all this cost money, of which we had little. So we decided to continue on.
Shortly after passing the hot spring, the path leading along the mountain ridge diverged, one way leading north, further along the ridge, and the other with a sign directing us to the summit. Time being short we opted for the summit path over exploration, though not for lack of interest. After turning south, some of the fog cleared and we got a better idea of where we were to go to finish our climb.
The southern ridge leading to the summit was significantly narrower
Friday, September 19, 2014
The Chuo Alps Pt. I: The Ascent
That's right, folks, it's another multi-post series! This will most likely be my format going forward, with each story having two or three different posts. I think this is probably the best way to tell the rest of my story as looking back, some of those tales that were kept to one post had so much story left untold. That being said, this week's post kicks off the saga of how three gaijin managed to conquer nearly three kilometers of mountain.
Despite my love of movies, music and books, I've always considered a part of myself an outdoorsman. I've always enjoyed hiking and nature walk and Japan's beautiful landscape provided just the spark to kick that interest up. Thankfully, another of my companions, Joe, was an equally avid nature-lover and wherever we went, we talked of the mountains in the area we'd like to try and climb. We'd hiked up the mountains in Ohdairajuku and climbed Arashiyama, better known as "Monkey Mountain" to the east of Kyoto. By the time we reached, Iida, our penchant for long hikes was well-known throughout the group and as our language skills developed, we were able to communicate our interest in mountain climbing to our host families.
Another friend of ours, Shawn, shared a host family for a time with Joe and unfortunately had to leave the program prematurely. If you remember, he also was one of the few who made the "best worst decision ever" and endured the Yamanobe no Michi, a 15 kilometer hike from Tenri to Nara. He clearly shared in our enthusiasm for mountains and long walks and so before he had to leave, Joe and Shawn's host family, the Nashidas, arranged for us to climb the Chuo Alps located north of Iida.
As luck would have it, my host mother was also
Despite my love of movies, music and books, I've always considered a part of myself an outdoorsman. I've always enjoyed hiking and nature walk and Japan's beautiful landscape provided just the spark to kick that interest up. Thankfully, another of my companions, Joe, was an equally avid nature-lover and wherever we went, we talked of the mountains in the area we'd like to try and climb. We'd hiked up the mountains in Ohdairajuku and climbed Arashiyama, better known as "Monkey Mountain" to the east of Kyoto. By the time we reached, Iida, our penchant for long hikes was well-known throughout the group and as our language skills developed, we were able to communicate our interest in mountain climbing to our host families.
Another friend of ours, Shawn, shared a host family for a time with Joe and unfortunately had to leave the program prematurely. If you remember, he also was one of the few who made the "best worst decision ever" and endured the Yamanobe no Michi, a 15 kilometer hike from Tenri to Nara. He clearly shared in our enthusiasm for mountains and long walks and so before he had to leave, Joe and Shawn's host family, the Nashidas, arranged for us to climb the Chuo Alps located north of Iida.
As luck would have it, my host mother was also
Friday, September 12, 2014
Ohdairajuku Pt. III: The Bottom of a Suntory Bottle
This will be the final installment in my saga over our weekend camping trip in the Edo-period mountain post town, Ohdairajuku, located just north of our home-stay city, Iida. When we last left off we were taking a midday respite after a day of hiking and wading in an ice-cold stream. After resting up, a few of us headed up the road with our professor in search of friendlier waters.
We came across a shallower creek with bubbling waters coming just above our ankles. The shallower water was still cool, but much less so than the turbulent, deep-running stream we'd been in before. We walked a ways up the water before rejoining the road and going in search of a waterfall our professor swore was nearby.
About a half mile up the road, we found a small pool just off the beaten path that did indeed have a small waterfall feeding into it. The pool was nearly as cold as the first stream, but the water was not running near as fast.There was a bit of rock face and undergrowth on either side the waterfall, just enough for someone, I don't remember who, suggested we might be able to climb it.
Suddenly the waterfall was a jungle gym and we were back in elementary school. Slowly but surely, several of us
We came across a shallower creek with bubbling waters coming just above our ankles. The shallower water was still cool, but much less so than the turbulent, deep-running stream we'd been in before. We walked a ways up the water before rejoining the road and going in search of a waterfall our professor swore was nearby.
About a half mile up the road, we found a small pool just off the beaten path that did indeed have a small waterfall feeding into it. The pool was nearly as cold as the first stream, but the water was not running near as fast.There was a bit of rock face and undergrowth on either side the waterfall, just enough for someone, I don't remember who, suggested we might be able to climb it.
Suddenly the waterfall was a jungle gym and we were back in elementary school. Slowly but surely, several of us
Friday, September 5, 2014
Ohdairajuku Pt. II: A Mountain Hike and a Freezing River
After a long hiatus, from this week I will resume this blog chronicling my adventures during the year I spent in the great nation of Japan. For those reading this blog for the first time, which I assume is quite a few given the months it sat untouched, check out the beginning of my adventure here. I'll be resuming my story right where I left off with the rest of the weekend we spent in Ohdairajuku, a 200-year old post town nestled deep in the heart of the mountains to the north of Iida. The town was originally built during the Edo period and served as place for traders and travelers to stop while passing through the mountainside.
As ever, the sun was up bright and early to herald our second day in the mountains. Despite my propensity to sleep late, I was woken up by the rustlings of my traveling companions who didn't share my enthusiasm for sleep. I couldn't complain too much, though, as my professor had risen earlier than all of us and got a start on breakfast. We had bought plenty of fresh fruit from the earlier shopping trip and we also brought what we needed to make pancakes. That coupled with some cold milk from our "icebox" outside got our day started off right.
This day was much less rigorously scheduled and as long as we agreed not to do any crazy base jumping or anything, we were pretty much left to our own devices during the day. Some of our group said they were going to go exploring down south of the camp where there was a small running stream that we could wade and swim in. However, three of us, myself, Joe and Kelly, decided we wanted to go for a short hike deeper in the mountains than our guide had led us the day before.
Armed with a bottle of water each, we set off up the trail, picking up from where we'd left off earlier. For the better part of three hours we trekked through the mountains, taking in the sites from on high and enjoying the animals and colorful plants we found along the way. At that point Kelly and I decided to head back to camp because we also wanted a chance to play in the river and we heard rumblings of a possible rainstorm. Joe said he'd continue on for awhile alone and join us later.
Sure enough, not even a half hour into our return trip, the sky opened up and we were hit with a heavy deluge of rain as if the clouds were overfilled water balloons that had been pricked with a needle. We found ourselves wanting for a couple umbrellas, but I doubt it would have helped just with the sheer volume and intensity of the rain. Luckily, it was actually a short cloudburst, so it rained just long enough to soak us through to our socks and then leave us sopping wet to finish our journey back. We felt even worse for poor Joe who'd have a longer walk back then us.
In a nice little twist of irony, we got back to our campsite, changed out of our clothes, dried off and then got ready to head to the river to get soaked yet again. We had seen the stream the day before so we were able to find the others who were still in the water relatively easy, especially given the fact that we weren't exactly the quietest group of Americans in the mountain.
Much to our surprise, the river was freezing cold, despite the pervasive heat of summer sitting in the mountains. Being so deep in the hills kept the stream running just warmer than ice, almost too unbearable to stay in. But we endured for the fun of it and did some river exploration, finding out where different branches led. In my eagerness to get to the river, I realized I had neglected to put on socks and unfortunately my shoes were not the most forgiving. When wet, they rubbed my ankles raw and it made continuing somewhat painful. However, I realized we wouldn't be in the mountains for very long, so I soldiered on, much to my regret later.
After braving the cold (an odd phrase for summer, no?) for a while, we made our way back to camp for a chance to rest and grab some food. Although like a 6 year old at Disneyland, we couldn't sit still very long and went off to further explore the wilderness.
Next week: The conclusion of the Ohdairajuku saga entitled, "The Bottom of a Suntory Bottle"
As ever, the sun was up bright and early to herald our second day in the mountains. Despite my propensity to sleep late, I was woken up by the rustlings of my traveling companions who didn't share my enthusiasm for sleep. I couldn't complain too much, though, as my professor had risen earlier than all of us and got a start on breakfast. We had bought plenty of fresh fruit from the earlier shopping trip and we also brought what we needed to make pancakes. That coupled with some cold milk from our "icebox" outside got our day started off right.
This day was much less rigorously scheduled and as long as we agreed not to do any crazy base jumping or anything, we were pretty much left to our own devices during the day. Some of our group said they were going to go exploring down south of the camp where there was a small running stream that we could wade and swim in. However, three of us, myself, Joe and Kelly, decided we wanted to go for a short hike deeper in the mountains than our guide had led us the day before.
Armed with a bottle of water each, we set off up the trail, picking up from where we'd left off earlier. For the better part of three hours we trekked through the mountains, taking in the sites from on high and enjoying the animals and colorful plants we found along the way. At that point Kelly and I decided to head back to camp because we also wanted a chance to play in the river and we heard rumblings of a possible rainstorm. Joe said he'd continue on for awhile alone and join us later.
Sure enough, not even a half hour into our return trip, the sky opened up and we were hit with a heavy deluge of rain as if the clouds were overfilled water balloons that had been pricked with a needle. We found ourselves wanting for a couple umbrellas, but I doubt it would have helped just with the sheer volume and intensity of the rain. Luckily, it was actually a short cloudburst, so it rained just long enough to soak us through to our socks and then leave us sopping wet to finish our journey back. We felt even worse for poor Joe who'd have a longer walk back then us.
In a nice little twist of irony, we got back to our campsite, changed out of our clothes, dried off and then got ready to head to the river to get soaked yet again. We had seen the stream the day before so we were able to find the others who were still in the water relatively easy, especially given the fact that we weren't exactly the quietest group of Americans in the mountain.
Much to our surprise, the river was freezing cold, despite the pervasive heat of summer sitting in the mountains. Being so deep in the hills kept the stream running just warmer than ice, almost too unbearable to stay in. But we endured for the fun of it and did some river exploration, finding out where different branches led. In my eagerness to get to the river, I realized I had neglected to put on socks and unfortunately my shoes were not the most forgiving. When wet, they rubbed my ankles raw and it made continuing somewhat painful. However, I realized we wouldn't be in the mountains for very long, so I soldiered on, much to my regret later.
After braving the cold (an odd phrase for summer, no?) for a while, we made our way back to camp for a chance to rest and grab some food. Although like a 6 year old at Disneyland, we couldn't sit still very long and went off to further explore the wilderness.
Next week: The conclusion of the Ohdairajuku saga entitled, "The Bottom of a Suntory Bottle"
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