Wednesday, September 1, 2010

Serenity at 5,000 Feet










On Monday I took a marvelous journey to a distant mountain in Akita Prefecture known as Mt. Komagatake. Solitary and strong, this mountain, covered in greens from an abundant amount of foliage, carried me to the heavens and allowed me to glance down at the Earth in all her beauty.

Yet, before I get to that, I'd best start at the beginning.

Hopping inside a van with Iva, Jack, Wade, Ritsuko, and Go, I took part in a three hour drive from Akita City to Semboku City to the east. It was a ride filled with frustration since half the van was smokers (one of them practically a chain smoker). Forced to roll down the window and stick my head out so as to give my asthma a chance to not slowly kill me. Continue with this vehicular journey, I was also awstruck by the number of stops we made along the way. For a three hour ride, we stopped no less than four times!

Though the trip was arduous my thanks still goes out to Go who was willing to drive everyone. Go, Go, Go!

Upon arriving at the base of the mountain our van was greeted a narrow, hairpin turn laden, mountain road. Go through over forty-five different "curves," as the Japanese call them, we managed to narrow avoid a head on collision four times. Because of the dense brush and sharp narrow turns it was near impossible to see anyone coming toward you minus the poorly maintained mirrors set up at each "curve." Deciding it was best to give fair warning to cars coming towards us, Go began honking his horn at every curve so as to warn oncoming traffic that he was coming.

Finally reaching the parking lot after fifteen to twenty minutes of driving, we all quickly jumped out of the car and began taking pictures and stretching.

As we were about to being our climb, we happened across an elderly couple who told us that it would take about one hour to go all the way around. Iva was throughly surprised, but not by the time. She was astonished at the fact than an elderly couple obviously over the age of sixty has just gone hiking up a mountain.

Beginning our trek, we were quickly made aware of the handicap smokers have when it comes to hiking. With the three heaviest smokers almost always in the rear, trying to keep up, I made frequent stops since they could not maintain the pace I was setting. These stops though gave us a chance for some wonderful group pictures looking over the entire mountain range.

Continuing on we came across a small rest area that looked over a giant valley and provided us with an unobstructed view of Lake Tazawa; the largest lake in Japan. It's deep blue waters turned silver by the mist resting between us, the Lake seemed to on the appearance of a perfectly crafted sheet of polished metal. Beside this like lied a small town which basked in the light of the sun as its razed barreled through the clouds to spotlight this small village within a sea of ancient Japanese Cedar Trees.

Gazing off along the trail I was greeted by a seen sooner found in the Scottish Highlands. Mist. Ever moving, ever swirling mist, drifting over a green so rich that even a leprechaun would have to take notice.

Stepping on rusted, iron rich soil we proceeded to a small timber path meant to keep our feet above the moist, soggy, ground surrounding the peak. Only until we turned the corner of the mountain did we realize the reason for the sudden change in the earth. A pond. A secluded, still, mirror-like pond which rested right below the summit.

Reaching the pond I was amazed by the scent. The fresh breeze racing over the surface transported every wondrous scent and placed right before me. I was momentarily held captive by the beauty of the darkening sky and the deep hues of the pond.

Moving along the wooden path further we came upon the narrow path leading to the summit. Though I eagerly yearned for the chance to see the world from its peak, I had to turn back due to the ever fading light of the evening sky.

As we decided the path to go down, Ritsuko read a warning on a rock. Stating that the following trail was difficult, Ristuko faltered and gave pause. Eager to continue forward though, we pressed ahead unaware of the challenge awaiting us.

Breaking through the thick brush we came upon a cliff. On the cliff, staked into the rock was a rope. This was our "oh damn" moment. Knowing that the light was fading and the way back to long, we decided to move on, hoping this would be the only instance. We were wrong, followed up by small rock scrambles and even more steep, roped cliffs, we proceeding along one hundred feet above a small mountain stream. With each step in time with the water as it washed over the rocks, we came to a small cliff overlooking the entire range. I can honestly say that no picture can do justice to this scene as it was not only the sight, but the smell, sound, and feelings that surrounded me as I gazed over these long dormant volcanoes.

Finding our way back to the parking lot we came across and couple camping in an RV in the parking lot. Worried for us, they decided to remain until they saw us return. With the sun just falling behind the mountains, we began our long drive back down the narrow, winding road and to an onsen for a much need rest.

My first onsen since I returned to Japan. I was pleased to say the least.

After cleansing ourselves, we returned to the tobacco filled van and proceeded home where I immediately crashed upon my bed and slept peaceful slumber brought on by a day of natural beauty.

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