The Journey to the Peak of Mount Hakkyo
Cold. Very very cold.
If someone offered you $2.25 for a sleeping bag, would you think “Huh, maybe there’s something wrong with this sleeping bag. Maybe I should get a better, not so cheap sleeping bag?”
Maybe that’s what I should’ve thought. But a Bit Man such as myself is also a Deal Man. And when one of Japan’s most popular thrift chains has a sleeping bag for 300 yen, you take it.
This is the story of my sleepless journey to the top of the highest mountain in the Kansai region of Japan.
The typical school year in Japan starts in April, which is quite different coming from the US. Given that, there aren’t the typical spring and summer breaks that I’m used to. Instead, there’s a series of multiple national holidays during one week in early May, known as Golden Week.
Some background on Golden Week:
It consists of four (4) national holidays: Showa Day (April 29), Constitution Memorial Day (May 3), Greenery Day (May 4) and Children’s Day (May 5).
Golden Week got its name from a radio host who called it such in light of higher listener ratings due to everyone being off work and school. Radio lingo.
I thought of it like my little spring break.
In the two or so weeks leading up to the holiday, I heard of friends preparing trips to Tokyo, Okinawa and a gaggle of other places around the country. I had already spent a week in Tokyo upon arrival to Japan, and I was really-big-metropolitan-city-that’s-really-busy’ed out.
Besides big cities, ferret cafés, and really useful vending machines that give me a cup of coffee, in an actual paper cup, with a LID on it, you know what else Japan has?
Mountains.
Per my last textbook’s information, Japan is 70% mountain. That’s about 68% more mountain than Oklahoma. In light of such a fact, I had decided my Golden Week plans. I was gonna go hiking mode!
Now, I was a Cub Scout once, and a very mediocre one at that. I’d been hiking a few places before, only once staying overnight with a venturing crew from my high school. My experience was minimal, but my drive was bursting out of my chest (dramatic). My search began.
A quick, obligatory shoutout has to be made to Ollie Ronin and team over at Hike Master Japan. An incredibly thorough free resource for hikes in Japan. I wouldn’t have been able to plan my trip without their resources. If you’d like to take a look around (and possibly plan a future hike) visit the website here!
First step was location. I had a few places close to Kyoto in mind, but so far as the length of the hike and difficulty, I really had no frame of reference. After a few days of pondering and more research, I decided on a hike in neighboring Nara, Japan, known for friendly deer and lots of forests. The selling point for me was that the mountain I was to hike, Mount Hakkyo, is the tallest mountain in this region of Japan at 1,914.6 meters, or 6,281 feet. Sounded like a challenge. Also sounded quite fun.
Next on my to-do was gear. I had 1) not brought any gear for hiking to Japan and 2) did not have gear to bring to Japan in the first place. I was starting from scratch. I got a general list of things I needed from a blog on REI’s website (big hiking and outdoors brand). Apple Maps pointed me to a camping gear shop about an hour’s transit ride away. Off I went.
It seems like a common theme throughout this story, that many seemingly obvious things should have been obvious to me, yet, I was oblivious. In light of that - did you know that new camping gear is really expensive?
The store I went to had maayyyybe 3 items that were under $100. In the whole store. All power to the shop owner, but I didn’t have the facilities for such purchases. I needed something else. A shop that had hiking gear, among other things, for discount prices. I needed a gleam of hope for this wannabe hiker to know his trip was not in vain.
Enter one of Japan’s most infamous thrift stores, Second Street.
At this point, I can confidently say I’m a Second Street regular. They’ve got just about everything a Goodwill in the US would have plus a little more. And it’s quite organized. The few times I’d gone before planning my trip, I saw they had an unusual abundance of camping gear on some of the shelves from some brand that I’d never heard of. Given that, I hit two (2) different Second Streets in one night in search of what I needed.
The first one I went to was in a different area of Kyoto I’d never been to. I was absolutely delighted to see many a high-capacity hiking backpack in this store. I landed on a Coleman pack, a nice polyester shirt (hiking makes you sweaty) and a really nice Columbia rain jacket I got for a steep discount.
First (1st) Second Street haul:
Coleman Hiking Backpack
Nondescript polyester shirt
Columbia rain jacket
I hopped on a bus that by the grace of some higher power was fairly empty with my now two backpacks (I still had my school backpack with me). It was off to the second (2nd) Second Street.
My best guess is that some local camping gear company had gotten liquidated recently and sold most of their stuff to Second Street. The selection at this store was thorough. I was very happy.
Second (2nd) Second Street haul:
Sleeping bag
Tent (like $15 lol)
Hand Sanitizer
Sunglasses
Collapsible utensils
Liquid fuel cooker
Sleeping pad
Some other stuff
For the things I couldn’t find at the stores (and/or couldn’t afford to buy at the camping shop) I resigned to an Amazon haul. Hiking shoes/boots were an item I was especially worried about, but I found a good pair of waterproof boots that got the job done. Luckily, there wasn’t too much else I needed to get, but I was happy with the items I received nonetheless.
Amazon haul:
Hi-Tech hiking boots
Sawyer water filter
Water bladder (lol)
Quick dry towel
Dr. Bronner’s multi-use soap
A spade
Sunscreen
I had all of my gear collected about two days before I was to set off on my hike. The night before my trek to the trailhead, I watched a little tutorial on how to pack my bag. I was set. All that was left was to get a good night’s rest before the big day.
Every day I learn something new while I’m here. I learned that night that, no matter if you’re 6 years old, 12, or 21, the pre-big-ole-fun-event-no-sleep-jitters always exist.
After a good (not good) 4-5 hours of sleep, I was up. The sun rises here real early, so we both got up together, sometime around 4:45am. I got my bag together, strapped everything up, and headed to 7-11 to get a little breakfast before my first leg of the adventure: transit.
In order to get to the trailhead of my hike, I had to take two trains and a bus. I personally quite enjoy a good early morning train ride. Apparently so did the 3 dozen other people who had the same idea to go hiking during Golden Week. Every leg of my journey down, I always knew I was going the right direction if I was surrounded by other folks with big camping packs. I started to feel like I was a part of a little hiking club. I was doing it!!
On the ride from Emmachi Station to Kyoto Station, I sat next to 3 older folks with camping packs of their own. Turns out we were all going to the same place. They talked to me some. During the whole of my time in Japan, older Japanese folks have always been curious about what myself and my friends are getting up to, where we’re going to college, etc. Always the kindest people.
I eventually followed them off our first train to the next transfer. I was a little-backpacking-experience baby duckling. They didn’t mind.
We were starting on different parts of the mountain, so my stop was different than theirs to get onto my bus. Unfortunately, the logic that that we could be going to the same mountain, but different trailheads didn’t kick in until after my phone told me I missed my stop. On the next stop, I waved goodbye, got off, and waited for the next train to come heading back the other way.
As with most all of my best experiences I’ve encountered in Japan, things play out to matter of timing. If it wasn’t for my missed stop, I wouldn’t have met a new friend on the final bus to Nara. It would have been a much different hike, and this would be a much different story. I suppose fate has different ways of guiding us. Sometimes it’s a billboard, or sometimes a song we hear by chance that reminds of of some we love. That day, it was a missed stop.
After correcting my mistake, I eventually made it on the bus headed for Tenkawa Village where the trailhead was. The bus was packed, but I had luckily gotten a seat with my oversized pack nestled nicely in my lap. A man and woman who were standing next to me struck up a conversation. He was headed to start a hike in Nara. I overheard, and looked in their direction. They asked, I responded. We had a good 30 minute conversation (myself in slightly broken, grammatically incorrect Japanese) about hiking, McDonalds in the US (the lady asked, I gave her my thoughts) and how both myself and the man were cub scouts as children.
One of my favorite parts of the bus ride was the tunnels. Nara is mountainous (duh) so many roads have been built under the mountains. One of the tunnels took us about 3 minutes to go through. It was sick.
We landed at the bus stop and both said our goodbyes to the kind lady. Both the man and myself crossed the street to a visitor's center, where the receptionist was already expecting hikers such as us to show. I set my pack town and prepped myself a little more. I didn’t know exactly where the trailhead was, but I figured I’d either ask someone or follow. Luckily, I sort of didn’t have to do either. The man from the bus asked if I’d like to join himself and his friends on the hike.
I was at first, a bit happily taken aback. 1) I was fairly sure he’d asked if I’d like to join, but not 100% positive. I heard “一緒に (ishiyouni)” which means “together” and a few other words that I pieced together to conclude that was in fact what he asked. 2) When in Rome (Nara). A few minutes later, his 3 other friends showed up and we all started through town.
The man who I first met looked to be anywhere from 45-60 years old, and the same went for the rest of his friends. The other man in the group said he was 70. Given that, none of them moved like their ages suggested they should. We were a spry bunch.
They all seemed excited to have me come along. For the most part, my Japanese skill and their English skill were on par with each other, which is to say not entirely great but we could get our points across eventually. They asked me all sorts of questions on the way to the trailhead. I’m 21 years old. They gasped. I go to Ritsumeikan for study abroad. One of the ladies in the group works there! I’m a Japanese and Creative Media Production double major. Very nice.
After a short walk through town we reached the trail head. Here, the man told me not to bother remembering their names. He said “I’m A-San, this is B-San, C-San, and D-San.”
From there, we started on our way. A hike is a hike. I think my pictures will tell a better story than any writing could.
The hike itself was tiring, but fun. I got to practice a whole lot of Japanese. The journey up took about 6 hours in total, from the trail head to the campsite. There was a whole building on the top of this mountain with small spaces for people to sleep. Even if I’d known about this setup before, I still would’ve opted for the tent approach.
Though, knowing about that setup after the fact, after night set in, I definitely would’ve reserved a spot. “But why Jacob?” Mmmmm muahahaha. I’m getting there.
After paying dues for tent pitching spots and setting our stuff down, my hiking friends took me a little up a hill where there was a tori gate and a small shrine. I did the traditional offering and thought of my hopes for the future, throwing in a coin as is common practice. After that, my friends informed me that they were heading back down to get some beers from the little “shop” at the lodge.
I don’t know the valiant solider who carries pack(s) of beer up the mountain to the lodge. Nor the person who also carries the chuhais (think kinda like a white claw) to the top of the mountain. If I knew, I’d give them a handshake, because that beer and chuhai were the only thing that kept me just warm enough for the next few hours.
Here’s the thing. I knew it was gonna be cold on top of the mountain. But, 1) I convinced myself I was somehow hardy enough to withstand whatever cold temperatures were coming, 2) I had just about 1 square inch of room left in my pack for any other blankets, and 3) I may be stupid. After dinner and a little chat, myself and the hiking pals all went to bed, just after sunset (around 8:30ish). I got snuggled up in my sleeping bag, got comfy, and fell asleep.
Here began my 8 hours of top-of-mountain-cold-induced suffering.
Not but an hour after falling sleep, I awoke. Bleary eyed, I opened the front of my tent. I felt my bones slowly freezing to one another. I needed to get warm. I also needed to pee really bad. If someone had strapped maracas to me on the way to the outhouse, the sound of fast-paced samba would’ve rang through mountains.
After returning to my tent, I put my hiking pants on over my shorts and threw on my jacket. Returned to my supposedly safe cocoon of sleeping bag, I hoped the heat would stay trapped inside and provide me some relief.
It did not.
I spent the next 7 hours flipping, flopping, checking my phone, shivering, pondering, and only sometimes laughing to myself. At one moment, was I close to the release of sleep, but a disturbance from another nearby camper relinquished my drowsiness.
Around 4:30am, I figured I might as well go see the sunrise. I slipped my boots on, grabbed my camera, and shuffled across the campsite. The view that awaited me made those sleepless hours matter not. It seemed as through heaven was peering through the Nara sky.
My hiking friends woke up about 45 minutes later, well rested and ready to start the day. While preparing breakfast I informed Chisa, one of the women in the group, of my unfortunate night.
「えと… 僕は寝られなかったね。だから、今日は帰ると思います。」
“Well… I couldn’t sleep. So I think I’'ll head home today.”
She thought that was a good idea given the condition. Chisa was one of the most avid hikers I’ve ever met. I had asked her the night before how often she usually goes camping. “About every weekend.” Literally incredible. She had shown me pictures of her and some friends on the top of a snow-covered peak after a 3-day ascent. She knew hiking. She also liked taking fat rips of her vape pen once we had set up camp. She was badass.
Though I was cutting my hike short (I had planned on doing 3 days, 2 nights, continuing on the trail), Chisa said I should still go with them to the peak of Mount Hakkyo, only a 30 minute hike from where we were. After breakfast, we began the short ascent.
On the way, Nakamura, the one who originally invited me to hike, told me that he himself had a Canon AE-1 program camera, the same as the one I was using, when he was in college. He had a zoom lens that he wanted to gift to me. Again, I felt a sense of disbelief mixed with confusion due to a lack of lingual skills as I slowly figured out what he said, with Chisa’s help. I was overjoyed, and didn’t know how to thank him properly. He said he’d get my address later to know where to send it to.
Soon, we reached the top. Here, I was reminded why I chose to hike in the first place. I’ve seen so few mountains in my life, much less been on top of them. These pictures can’t describe the feeling I had. In my eyes, I was literally on top of the world.
We took our pictures, exchanged numbers, and celebrated. Here, they were to travel on while I retraced my steps back down the mountain.
The one thing I’ve found most frustrating about my language learning journey in Japan is not being able to fully vocalize how grateful I am for the kindness I’ve encountered. I tried my best to tell them how much I appreciated them welcoming me into their group with no hesitation and guiding me like they did. Even with my lack of sleep, I certainly don’t think I would’ve had such an enjoyable time if I hadn’t happened to meet Nakamura on that bus. The specific bus I took only because I had missed my train stop before. Though my words were limited, I felt they knew my gratitude. I felt their love. We said our goodbyes and parted ways.
The hike down took me 4 hours. I found a restaurant in town and had a delicious lunch. I caught the next bus back to the station, making my way home, thinking all the way about how fortunate I was to have met some of the kindest people in the midst of an incredible journey.
To my guides and protectors, A-San, B-San, C-San, and D-San, thank you.
