Kazekoshi-yama Pt. I: Meeting the Mountain Hermit

That's it, I'm done! By that I mean I've finally finished submitting my application to the 2015 JET Program that has been the bane of my existence for the better part of the last month. Overnight shipping is significantly more expensive than I had originally thought. Hopefully I'll hear back in December that I landed an interview!

Now, back to tales from my life in Iida. This week's post begins yet another series about climbing mountains. This took place about a week after Joe, Sean and I climbed the Chuo Alps and we were still thirsty for more. Unfortunately, Sean couldn't join us this time. He had planned to leave the program early in order to visit his childhood friend in Germany. In his stead, our friend Kelly would join us.

As I've mentioned before, Iida is a town nestled in valley surrounded by mountains. To the northwest of the city loomed Kazekoshi-yama, whose peak stood over 1,500 meters high. Joe and I had been talking about conquering that summit since we first laid eyes on it when we arrived in the city. Other than the Tenryu River that ran through the city,
the mountain was the most impressive and vast geographic feature around. We had a small taste of the mountain when we visited Fuuetsu High School, a respected private high school that derives its name from alternate readings of the kanji in Kazekoshi.

My host mother, who had climbed the mountain multiple times before, arranged for both a guide and a translator to take us up the mountain. We would also be able to glean a little bit of local lore and history as we went along. Early on a Saturday morning, my host mother picked up Joe and Kelly from the train station and drove us to a school that was at the foot of the mountain. We were to meet one of our guides there, a man named Yudai, to begin driving into the foothills of the mountain. After a short drive down some very winding roads, we drove until the road turned to dirt and trees began to close in around the path.

As the road tricked down to little more than a path, we came across a small house with a garden and shed. Yudai told us that was where we would meet our other guide, one much more versed in the way of the mountain. Regrettably, I do not remeber our other guides name, most likely because from the moment we met him, we called him "The Mountain Hermit." The man earned this nickname because that is exactly what he was, a hermit who lived up in the mountains. The Hermit looked to be in his 60s with a long, wiry beard white as fresh-fallen snow. He was a old man, but very lean and much more capable than his frail appearance made him seem. Yudai said he had lived in the area for years and knew everything there was to know about Kazekoshi-yama.

We hopped in the back of the Hermit's small, white pickup and drove a short distance into the mountain's undergrowth before we hit a dead end. To the right of the dead end was a short, hand-painted sign marking the beginning of the trail up the mountain. We made one last check of all our equipment and food and then started our journey up the zig-zagging mountainside.