Game changer

We took a train out of Gobo and transferred to a bus in Tanabe where got off for our third day of trekking into the mountains on the Kumano Kodo.  After staying at in inn in Hadaka (the only visitors, we had the inn to ourselves which was very pleasant) we were well fortified nutritionally for the upcoming ordeal.  The restaurant adjoining the inn had a young chef who cooked up a five course meal the night before, and breakfast, a mere four courses, had to be worked off.  As the line for the bus in Tanabe grew it was clear that, unlike the previous two days, we wouldn’t have the trail to ourselves.  Young couples, mostly Japanese, began arriving carrying backpacks with collapsible walking poles.  For or the first time we saw a few Anglo couples in hiking gear.  It was Saturday and it was obvious we were going to venture on a popular trail.

Popular but arduous.  The graph in Ella’s booklet detailing the trail showed a dramatic spike at the beginning.  350 meters up in the first kilometer.  So we knew we’re in for it.  Crossing the road to the shrine at the entrance to the path, Ella noticed a shop that had a bin with bamboo walking sticks poking out on display.  500 yen.  (Around three dollars.)  Solid, light poles.  No brainer.  We each bought one.

And right from the beginning the sticks were put to use.  The trail was a steep tumbledown rock staircase.  Like hiking up the snaky remains of an avalanche.  No quick stepping here.  Although with the bamboo poles jabbing the ground pack-carrying balance was easier.  Progress was less unsure what with not worrying about getting tripped up and keeling over.  Breathing was heavy, but confidence was gained.  

Of course there’s nothing like being reminded that one is 75 minus 1 (day) as I paused to step aside as the rest of the Kodo climbers on the bus passed by bounding up the trail.  At least having hikers ahead of us not turning back was an assurance that the daunting ascent would level out at some point. 

The weather was unseasonably (according to the locals) chilly, so jacking up the heart rate in record time helped warm things up.  And I don’t know if it was because it was our third day hiking, or the stability of the bamboo pole, but I was less conscious that I was carrying a pack.  I could relish the smell of the resinous pine, take in a few vistas at bends in the trail.  I was entering the Shinto realm without the self pity that came from over strenuous exertion.

Although it would have been a lot easier to be harmonious with nature if the path had been smooth.  The struggle keeping my footing reminded me that nature wasn’t always on my side.

The trail flattened out after we reached the top of our first ascent, so things were glorious.  That refreshing breeze!  The soft pine needles!  I was totally Shinto.  I bowed to the figurines in the shrine.  

Ella added a stone.

But I mentioned the first ascent.  There was a second.  Very steep and unrelenting.  Maybe the difference from the first climb was that the gnarled roots served as stairs as opposed to jagged, broken stone.  I’ll take the roots over the stones, but my muscles were beginning to scream.  Nature was turning into a demon and I was low on amulets.  Just as we reached the crest of one rise the next rise would rise even higher. 

And just when I was ready to throw stones at demon nature, we stumbled into Takahara, a small village with bathrooms and a large parking lot with a scenic view.

From the village we followed a road down to a river which we crossed to get to our bus stop to get a ride to Chikatsuyu, our final destination for the day where we would stay the night.  Waiting for the bus we were joined by an Asian couple from San Francisco.  They said they were retired, but they looked young, like they were in their sixties.  Oh for the pre-arthritic sixties!  After completing their Kodo expedition they were on their way to see some Formula One car race.  I asked the guy if he had ever been to Monte Carlo for the Grand Prix and he said, no, the race wasn’t much fun to watch since the roads were too narrow for cars to pass each other, so whoever got the jump start would win. The thought of going from the Shinto path through nature to seeing a car race strangely enough conjured a balance, not exactly Shinto, but still, weirdly harmonious.