I was focused on the trail, checking my footing over the uneven roots and rocks in the predawn light. As I climbed, sometimes using my hands for support due to the steep grade, I glanced up and noticed that some trees were marked with patches of bright orange paint. Trail markings? Or trees ready for the axe? I wasn’t sure. Taking a closer look, I realized it was the first rays of light punching through the forest and striking the tree trunks around me. Soon, the red-orange glow expanded, and for a moment, the forest was ablaze. Suddenly, the flag made sense, and I understood why this country is the Land of the Rising Sun.
The day before, I’d arrived with my family in Nikko, a small town in the mountains outside Tokyo and slightly off the beaten path. Our trip to Japan began about a week earlier and we had already visited many of the must-see sights. My son was having a great time in the land of Nintendo and Pokémon, and my wife was enjoying collecting goshuin stamps at each temple. I was impressed by the sheer scale of the city, but I hadn’t been feeling one-hundred percent during our first week. I was hoping I would soon get past the jet lag and shake my lingering cold. Still, I took it all in—the busy streets, massive subway stations, and subterranean walkways. What a difference from my 448-person hometown back in Minnesota! How do you even begin to describe Shibuya crossing to someone who hasn’t yet seen it?
After Tokyo, we set out by bullet train to explore other parts of the country: in Kyoto we visited the serene golden temple and walked through the thousands of torii gates at Fushimi Inari shrine, in Kanazawa a samurai house, and in Nagano we slept on tatami mats. Everything was new and fascinating, but also so busy with people, long lines, and crowded train stations. As we pulled into Nikko and I looked around, I noticed it was different: smaller and quieter than our previous stops. And, as I looked up, I saw that we were in the mountains. I’d read about the mountains of Japan, and I had been looking forward to seeing them for myself. I knew I had to take advantage of this opportunity and find a good mountain hike.
Early the next morning I set out across the still-sleeping town for the trailhead to Mt. Nakimushi. I jogged past a 7-Eleven and a grocery store that wouldn’t be out of place in a Minnesota town. Then, following my map, I crossed a little stream that separated the town from the mountain and approached the place where the trailhead should be. There, a moss-covered torii gate stood with a steep path rising behind, and I knew I was in the right place. I gave a slight bow, passed under the gate, and started to climb.
Nikko is home to the shrine of Tokugawa, founder of the Tokugawa shogunate in the Edo period of the 1600’s, but its history dates back earlier than that. They say that monks and samurai have been running up and down these mountains for centuries. But not today, today I had the trail to myself. The crowded streets, temples, and subways of Tokyo were far away, replaced by mountains, trails, and sunlight.
As I approached the first summit, I saw the signpost that read 842m. Pulling out my translator app, the characters read “God’s Own Mountain.” As I looked out, it seemed apt, and as I took in the vistas of the green forest, blue sky, and surrounding peaks, I imagined Tokugawa was pleased with his choice of final resting place. It took a while to find this quieter side of Japan even though it was never far away.
After the first peak, there was a slight dip, then a steep rise again. I was feeling much better now, and I pushed on to the second summit passing through stands of tall, straight cedars punctuated by gnarled old maples and oaks. A short run along a ridge and I was at Mt. Nakimushi, 1092m a.s.l. and a vertical rise of about 550m from my hotel. The trail gains its elevation over only about 3km, and you can imagine that any monks who ran this trail regularly would have been fit. I stopped for a moment, then turned and followed the footsteps of the monks back down the mountain, surer of the terrain now that I was crossing it a second time. If I kept up the pace, I could be back to the hotel by breakfast. As I approached town, I began planning the day ahead, and I arrived just as my family was waking up.
The morning was spent exploring the lakes and river above Nikko. We laughed as we paddled a ridiculously small fiberglass duck boat around the beautiful mountain Lake Chuzenji. Then, riding an elevator down through the earth, we emerged to a great view of the picturesque Kegon falls. Later in the afternoon, an amazing hike through the Kanmangafuchi Abyss took us past dozens of stone buddhas lining the path and layered in moss.
Then, the next morning, we hopped on the train back to Tokyo. The past and present, the crowded and peaceful, the cute and profound—they all mingle comfortably here in this ancient land born from the sea.
