Little Inaka

When my son was born in 2008, I still had a fair bit of freedom. It was a good year for earnings from photography and writing and I was beginning in earnest to complete my book project on the Japan Alps. When I was away, my wife took our infant son to her parents’ home.

In 2010 things changed. My wife became pregnant with our second child and it was not so easy for her to bring our growing boy to her parents’ house as there was not enough space and he was restless. I wrapped up my book project a little early, managed a few more hikes and a trip abroad to attend my sister’s wedding. After that, my adventures seemed to have come to an end, at least for the time being.

Not wanting to give up photography entirely, I began a project of shooting locally. I purchased a used DSLR and chose some places that were within reach. I would wake up in the early morning and go out somewhere to shoot, trying to make it home by 7:30 to help get ready for the day. Three years later, my son entered elementary school and I had to be home by 6:45. We moved house and autumn brought later sunrises. My three years of early morning photography were also temporarily wrapped up. I had, however, amassed a few hundred photographs or more and set about putting them into a book. The result is this: Little Inaka.

The locations are the Sakitama Burial Mounds in Gyoda City, Hatcho Park in Yoshimi Town, a rural area in Higashi Matsuyama City, and a rural area straddling Ina Town and Ageo City. All places are in Saitama Prefecture, Japan.

IF

A tumulus at the Sakitama Burial Mound Park in Gyoda City

Two Days to Get What I Could

IF

Just me. No wife. No kids. Just me. And I was feeling a little guilty about it.

Going back to Canada for the Christmas holidays this time was not about a family get together in the usual sense. There were some extra points to be weighed and considered. Firstly, the whole idea that I should go and visit was inspired by my mom’s 80th birthday in November. My work schedule could not have permitted taking time off then, but at Christmas I was off anyway. There was also the matter of my parents’ age and most concerning, my father’s incident last year where he fell and injured his back, leaving him in hospital for two or three weeks. His recovery was swift to the degree of nearly being a miracle, but I still wanted to check up on my mom and dad and see how well they were taking care of themselves. And then most tragically, a dear friend of mine revealed that he had liver cancer and, as his sister was to inform me, how much time there was left for him was uncertain. Though I did all I could to arrange time for seeing him again, he passed away just two days before I arrived back in Vancouver.

With all the above considered, there was furthermore my children’s age to consider. A boy of seven and a girl of nearly five who were used to the freedom of roaming and playing in their own home would likely be bored and become irritable spending two weeks in their grandparents’ condo. Perhaps once they are a little older we can all go.

So, it was just me and for only eight days. The plan was to spend most of the time with my parents and enjoy the company of my sister and her husband for a couple of days, and also to see my two closest friends and their families. In between all that I was determined to take a couple of days for a trip to the mountains. The original and admittedly ambitious plan was to drive to E.C. Manning Provincial Park (east of Vancouver) on the 26th and do a hike up to the summit of a small mountain (1,825m) called Windy Joe and then return to my parents’ home for the night, and then drive up north to Squamish and do a longer hike up to Elfin Lakes in Garibaldi Provincial Park.

The one glitch was that my snowshoe straps were discovered to be breaking (MSR snowshoe straps are apparently notorious for this) and I was unable to adequately repair them because the substitute item suggested on one web site was not available at the local home centre. In the end, I had to rent a pair from the Nordic Centre in Manning Park and there I decided that it would be much more sensible to just spend two days in the park, where I had a pair of snowshoes that fastened up properly, and skip the long hours on the road.

Windy Joe

I left around 5:30 a.m. after having had about three and a half hours sleep (watched Star Wars – The Force Awakens with a friend the night before) and drove carefully in the dark down a wet Highway 1 to Hope. From there I went over to Highway 3 and into the snow-covered world of the North Cascade Mountains. The sky began to turn pink and then orange over the mountains, and I had to make a quick pull over in order to grab a couple of shots before the moment passed.

IF

Dawn light over Manning’s mountains

At last around 8:00, I was at Manning Resort, though with the problems of finding where to park and where the trail to Windy Joe began and then my straps breaking more, it wasn’t until after 10:00 that I was at last on the three-hour plus hike to the summit. Though fresh power covered the landscape, Christmas holiday trekkers had trampled a trench into the snow, and it was easy to follow the route.

IF

Creek view along the trail

The first stretch led through the forest and was mostly level, and then the second stretch climbed a gentle slope for most of the way. There were a dozen of so places where fallen trees blocked the path and it was necessary to go around them and on the mountainside, this meant scrambling up the steeper slopes and going around. But until near the end of the hike, the going was quite easy. Only one short part of the route became steep; the snowshoe trench had become a bum-sliding chute here. Soon after, I reached the fire lookout on the summit of Windy Joe. The lookout had been used to look out for forest fires from 1950 to 1963. It was a small wooden structure with two floors and the second floor had illustrations of the surrounding views with landmarks labelled.

IF

Near the summit of Windy Joe

The sky remained overcast the whole hike, and here on the summit the sun was just a luminescent smudge in the clouds. Fortunately, the mountains all around were visible and I was at least able to examine the views and photograph them.

IF

The weather on Windy Joe

An Unexpected Night Hike

The hike back down took as long as the hike up; however, when I came to the road to the Gibson Pass Ski Area, I mistakenly crossed right away instead of continuing a little longer through the forest. It was already after sunset and the light under the overcast ski very dim. I had a headlight with me but thought that I would be back soon and didn’t take it out. I followed what turned out to be the Canyon Loop trail but found a sign that said it led to the resort in 1.8 km. By now it was dark and the headlight was put to use. The path, however, seemed to just lead further into the forest and began climbing a slope. I decided to turn back and met to other people out for a night hike.

At last back at the road, I was able to follow it to the resort. I ditched my gear in the car and went to a restaurant and tried to let my sweaty clothes dry a bit while I ate something that was not trail mix. A juicy burger with a salad hit the spot. Next I checked out the prices of the resort but $130 a night – the cheapest price – was too much for me. There was a wool blanket in my parents’ truck and I opted to sleep in the back. Actually, under the blanket and with my winter jacket spread over top, I was warm enough. It was just difficult to remain sleeping because of the need to stretch my legs from time to time. Instead of folding the seats down, I slept with them up, reasoning that having a cushiony surface on two sides of my body instead of just one would help retain heat.

Grassy Mountain

In the morning I went to the ski area and bought a one-time lift pass and rode up to the top of the ski run. From there I took a hike over to the top of Grassy Mountain – 1,888 metres. The hike was not as long and also easy, and the weather was better because when I first reached the summit, sunlight was breaking through the clouds in places.

IF

‰ Frosty Mountain

After feeling satisfied with the shoot, I continued with my plan to hike over to Poland Lake. But the path soon began to descent steeply and I was uncertain about whether or not I was going the right way. There were no signs and furthermore, the clouds were coming in thickly again. It decided that I would get my best shots back on the summit or, if the weather improved again, I could hike across to an exposed ridge on the over side of the ski lift. But on the summit again the clouds were coming in and swallowing up the mountains. I decided then to just head back and get an early start on the drive back. Snow was beginning to fall and it would be prudent to hit the highway in daylight.

IF

Two of the Three Brothers

I stopped to look at a map posted where the hiking course met up with the ski run and saw that the hike to Poland Lake went by a different route than the one I had taken. A sign posted on a nearby tree, however, indicated the way I had gone was the right way. Confusing. The topographic map, though, seemed correct as the route to the lake didn’t cross the summit of Grassy Mountain. No matter. My hike had given me some exercise and a few decent photos. I descended by lift and returned to the Nordic Centre to return my snowshoes.

A Snowy Drive Back

Fuel was low in the truck, so I decided to drive to the gas station just outside the east gate of the park, which was much closer. Along the way, I stopped for some photos of ice and snow on the Similkameen River and later on the way home, I tried to get a few shots of the mountainsides disappearing in the low cloud cover.

IF

Similkameen River side

Snow fell the whole afternoon, and I drove a below the speed limit. Many other vehicles roared passed me, though I later saw three cars that had slid off the highway and in one place on Highway 1, two vehicles heading east had thoroughly smashed each other into wrecks, the lights of ambulance, fire trucks, and police cars making a Christmas light scene in the dark.

A brief stop in Hope to completely fill the tank because gas was much cheaper there and a few shots of the darkening mountainsides in snow and I was off, my two-day mountain adventure tightly wrapped up. It felt greatly inspired once more to dream about where I could hike and photograph in my old territory, but those future adventures would be on some untold date in the far future.

 

Japan UP! Magazine

My interview was published in the October issue of Japan UP! magazine. It’s a free magazine available in the Los Angeles area.

IMG_8157

Winter on Yakushima – Chapter 10: The Final Day

IF

Back in August 2013, the last day of the five-day trip to Yakushima had been planned by Mr. Hatanaka as a day for fun. Our shooting objectives wrapped up more or less, we went river kayaking, visited a hot spring, and went souvenir shopping before heading back to the airport. This time, under the directorship of Mr. Ichino, even with eight days we were busy shooting until the last moment. Had I not wandered out exploring one late afternoon between returning to the hotel and meeting for dinner and found a large souvenir shop, I would have had to do all my souvenir shopping at the meagre store in the tiny airport.

We’d had a lot of experiences already. After our four-day mountaineering trek, I had felt that we had already accomplished our prime objective and that the rest was just filler. However, the visit to Unsuikyo was a treat in itself and learning about the white pines as well as other aspects of the Yakushima forests and their problems confirmed that every day spent on the island was educational and fulfilling.

So, on our final day there, we were off round the east side of Yakushima and heading to the southern part. Our first two stops were for some views of rivers and mountains. Once more I saw the view of the Anbo River from the high bridge over the waters.

The Anbo River looking downstream

The Anbo River looking downstream

The Anbo River looking upstream

The Anbo River looking upstream

Next was Senpiro Falls, which I was eager to see. It is one of Japan’s 100 selected waterfalls (hyakusen no taki 百選の滝) and I hadn’t received the chance to see it on my previous visit. The waterfall itself is impressive as it plummets over a granite precipice, but more than that, there is a huge slope of exposed granite to the left side. When it rains heavily, not only does the waterfalls flush with white water but streams of white streak the face of the granite slope like ribbons. We were in for yet another day of fine weather as only a few small clouds scudded across a vast azure sky. As an added surprise, we found a cherry tree in bloom at the parking area!

Senpiro Falls

Senpiro Falls

The grand view

The grand view

In spite of the feeling of freedom that imbued my spirits, we were on a schedule still. I wandered down the path to a viewpoint of the falls and snapped a few shots only to find Mr. Ichino approaching from behind with the words, “Alright, let’s getting moving now.”

We next visited a seaside hot spring that is only accessible when the tide is out. I have had a few memorable hot spring experiences in Japan but this was a first – there was no bath house! I simply walked down a concrete walkway to where a line was painted and the instructions to remove footwear. Once my boots and socks were off I walked over to where several pools of varying sizes had been made with concrete between the rocks and boulders that comprised the sea shore. It was here that I disrobed – no screen or cover – and slide into the hot water. The view from the pool was unusual to say the least. In the near distance beyond the wavelets of the hot spring pool, the waves of the ocean crashed and foamed over the rocks. The tide was out for now. When it came in again, the hot spring would be submerged.

Seaside hot spring

Seaside hot spring

I tried to relax and enjoy the moment. The ocean thundered with restraint not far to my right. Black and grey rocks surrounded me and green coastal vegetation covered the slope nearby. In the distance to my left, green mountains with grey protrusions of stone made their skyline under the blue heavens. Mr. Ichino and Mr. Kurihara stood some distance away while Mr. Mori darted about here and there with his camera. Ordinarily, towels are not permitted in the hot spring water and swimwear is strictly prohibited. But for filming purposes, one may bring a towel to cover oneself. I had wrapped a typical white hot spring towel around my hips and was trying to be at ease in the hot water; however, buoyancy caused my hips to raise up and the towel came loose more than once. This required constant adjustment and an effort to sit in the water and still look relaxed without worrying about offering a peep show to the camera (was he using a zoom lens?). I closed my eyes. I opened them and looked thoughtfully at the sea and the sky. And when I looked at the greenery and rocks, I was sure to see a camera lens pointing my way.

After several minutes, two elderly men came to join me. They were local residents but retirees from Tokyo. They came to the hot spring daily, or at least when weather permitted. They explained that locals referred to the tide schedule to plan their visits. For those who didn’t like the water too hot, it was best to dip in shortly after the tide had receded and the water was still mixed with cool sea water. Those preferring hotter water could wait until the hot ground water had heated the pools more. My two new companions were supposed to have played tennis but the wind was too gusty that day and so they retreated to the relaxing waters of the seaside hot spring.

Next we were on a flower hunt. Our first stop was near a large hotel overlooking the sea. Along the road leading to the hotel there were hibiscus flowers blooming. Mr. Mori shot different takes of me walking past the red blossoms and then we each had time to shoot on our own.

Hibiscus in February

Hibiscus in February

Next we were off to a sunflower patch. Canola was also in bloom. I marvelled at the thought that we were experiencing spring scenery around here with all the blossoms: sunflowers, canola, hibiscus, and cherry, among a few others we had noticed from the window of the taxi van. Yet only a few days prior we had been tramping through snow beneath ice-encrusted trees in the mountains of the interior and seen leaves of yellow and red round the northern tip of the island. How remarkable to consider seeing three seasons in one week on such a small island!

“

“

Our flower session over, we were at last on our way back to the airport. I sat comfortably and felt satiated having seen and done so much. It had been a long time since I last enjoyed so many things on a trip of such length. But I had not had enough of Yakushima. For I understood that the mountains in spring were another sight to behold and there were still places of interest I had not yet visited. Could I hope to return again some day?

As our flight crossed the sky over Yokohama, I could see snow streaking past the window. The snow turned to rain as we descended to Haneda Airport. The hibiscus blossoms, the blue sky and green mountains, and the silver waves on the sea were now confined to memory. Our journey was over. We collected our luggage and parted ways. The three members of the TV crew would still meet again and possibly work together again. Meanwhile I thanked them and set off on my own, returning to my ordinary life. What a wonderful job it must be working for documentary television. Maybe I would be so lucky as to be asked to do this again someday.

Winter on Yakushima – Chapter Nine: Sylvan Defenders, Part One

Kenshi Tetsuka’s house would have been called a dump in the neighbourhood where I grew up, but out here on the green, forested slope of a mountainside on Yakushima, I found it to be quite enchanting. The whole thing had been constructed of wood thirty years ago by Mr. Tetsuka himself, and in Yakushima’s damp climate, the house had become mottled with the colours of various lichens and mosses and whatever other woodland growths had made a home upon the surface of the weathered wood panels.

There was a litter’s worth of cats and a litter of sea shells around the house. Ferns grew in normal size except for a tree-sized species that looked to me like the tree ferns of New Zealand. The forest hung over the back of the house and a slope dropped away in the front with a view through the trees to a neighbour’s house some hundred metres away. Through the windows I could see books lining every visible shelf, and there were shelves anywhere a shelf could have been affixed between two walls.

Kenshi Tetsuka at home

Kenshi Tetsuka at home

Mr. Tetsuka had moved to Yakushima thirty years ago from Iruma City in Saitama. He lived here on the mountainside with his wife in a house with only enough electricity for lights and an old record player for some even older jazz records. The most modern of things in the house were his computer and CD player. Mr. Tetsuka didn’t have a TV.

We were here on his patio sipping herbal tea served by his wife and talking about the Yakushima white pine, known in Japanese as the yakutane-goyo (ヤクタネゴヨウ). Yaku and Tane come from Yakushima and Tanegashima respectively and are given as a prefix because these are the only two places in the world where these trees remain growing. Goyo (五葉) refers to the five needles that grow in each fascicle. The trees have become a concern because they are dying, and Mr. Tetsuka and his colleagues have been researching the possible causes and cataloguing every tree on the island, by no means an easy task because the Yakushima white pine prefers a habitat of cliff environments. So far, they have recorded 200 trees on Tanegashima and 2,000 on Yakushima.

Our taxi van drove along the Seibu Forest Road, the stretch of Yakushima’s circumnavigating highway that narrows and winds along the steep granite slopes that plunge directly into the ocean. In places, the granite bedrock emerges from the forest cover like the talons of some colossal bird dipping its toes in the sea. We stopped at one curve in the road and got out, and Mr. Tetsuka directed our attention to some granite cliffs that rose into the cloud cover while passing beams of cloud-filtered sunlight moved across the vertical landscape. Standing out clearly from the thick green forest cover were numerous white tree skeletons. All of those white trees, Mr. Tetsuka told us, were dead yakutane-goyo. He said that here on the west side of the island the damage was particularly bad.

White pine skeletons

White pine skeletons

What was killing off the trees? It had begun to escalate within the last 20 years or so, he explained. There were a couple of plausible reasons such as pine beetle infestation and Yakushima’s explosive deer population which meant more deer were nibbling the saplings. But Mr. Tetsuka and his colleagues had set up air quality testing stations at three elevations on the island and had found that a more worrying element was most likely the cause. When we had told him about our climb to the summit of Miyanouradake and all the feather rime we had seen, Mr. Tetsuka had said, “Oh, I wish I could have a sample of that feather rime. You see, the wind comes from the Asian continent and any particulate matter borne on that wind would be frozen in the ice – evidence of what we have been trying to prove. We are quite certain that the reason for the sudden increase in tree deaths is because of pollution coming from China.

IF

Mr. Tetsuka explained that the usual pine trees found in Japan have two needles sprouting from each fascicle. The yakutane-goyo has five. These five needles act like a catcher’s glove that trap particulate matter in the air. These minute particles then lodge themselves in the stomata of the needles – those tiny pores through which gases and water vapour can pass, allowing the tree to breathe. In other words, China’s industrial air pollution was suffocating Yakushima’s white pines.

IF

We drove on and came to a stop once more. Here we all got out and Mr. Tetsuka told us that he was going to lead us from here up into the forest to show us some of the yakutane-goyo. This was part of the UNESCO World Heritage Site and ordinarily visitors are not permitted. Mr. Tetsuka had been granted special permission to lead us into his research area for the Journeys in Japan program. He reminded us not to damage anything intentionally and to take great care not to damage anything by accident. After saying a short prayer to the mountain gods, he led us up a steep slope leading through the brush at the roadside and soon we were ascending the crest of a ridge extending down mountainside.

Thinking of what I had seen of Yakushima’s forests so far, I was puzzled by the openness between the trees here. There was no thick mossy carpet, and no ferns and flowers were sprouting up everywhere. The leaf strewn forest floor supported only three kinds of undergrowth: the thorn-bearing bush of about 20 to 30 centimetres high, and two other types of bushy undergrowth that were well-spaced apart. Mr. Tetsuka pointed out the lack of vegetation variety and said that it was because of the deer. Since the creation of the UNESCO site, the hunting of deer became illegal and the population as been increasing. The deer strip away everything from the forest floor except for the plants that are too bitter, poisonous, or covered in thorns.

Though a man with a thick head of grey hair, Mr. Tetsuka was spry and agile as he lead us up the mountainside. We soon came to a most bizarre tree. It looked like a biology experiment had congealed and a tree with parts resembling a spider’s anatomy was sprouting from the grotesque formation. It was in fact all one single tree called ako (Ficus superba var. japonica). Ako grow around other trees, slowly sending out parts that are neither roots nor branches that grow together and form a net around the host tree. The net gradually thickens and the individual strands grow thicker as the ako drains nutrients from its host. At last the host dies and the ako tree by this time has secured its own roots in the forest floor and can support itself. Eventually the host tree decays and a hollow basket that looks like some science fiction horror creation remains with the ako tree standing up from it. We came across a yakutane-goyo with an ako attached to it, already creating its network of choking strands. The ako is actually a tropical tree but parts of yakushima provide a comfortable climate. As it was, that particular plant was a little higher up than usual and the yakutane-goyo a little farther down than usual. The two trees met at their extreme borders. A kind of fig tree, the fruit of the ako is eaten by monkeys but the seeds have a sticky covering that adheres to the monkeys’ fur. Monkeys will swipe the sticky seeds from their posteriors with their hands and wipe them on the trunks of trees where the seeds will then germinate and the ako sapling will begin its attack.

An ako tree with its host long since perished and decayed.

An ako tree with its host long since perished and decayed.

An ako tree forming its net around a Yakushima white pine.

An ako tree forming its net around a Yakushima white pine.

Another tree we encountered was responsible for providing the forest floor with a rich environment of bacteria, which in turn provided food for fungi and microscopic organisms living in the soil that were essential to a healthy forest.

At last we came to Number 77, the largest yet recorded yakutane-goyo. Mr. Tetsuka told us that when they started recording the trees they assigned each tree a number, and this tree was number 77 of over 2,000 trees. In girth and height and probably age too, this tree was superlative to all the others. It grew at the edge of a small cliff on the ridge, one side with thick roots slithering into the forest soil and the other side clinging to the rock face and plunging roots straight down to the steeply-sloping forest floor below. Here we busied ourselves with photography and filming. Mr. Tetsuka picked up a sprig of five needles and produced a small magnifying lens from his pocket. He handed them to me and I looked at the needles through the lens and saw tiny yellow spots on the green needles. Those spots, he explained, occurred after a stoma had become plugged. Thinking about the clouds rising from the crater of Kuchinoerabu-shima, which was within view of Yakushima’s west side, I asked if volcanic gasses could also be a factor. Mr. Tetsuka said no. Especially on a day like today when the pollution was crossing the South China Sea, the trees were in danger. I said I had seen a lot of haze over the water. Wasn’t that just sea mist created by the warm air of the approaching spring? No, that was air pollution.

Majestic Number 77

Majestic Number 77

Tezuka san and 771

IF

I took some interest in the rocks around the tree. They looked like limestone. I asked Mr. Tetsuka about it but he said there was no limestone around here. He named another kind of rock in Japanese that I did not know. I looked at the rocks again. They definitely looked like limestone. Perhaps there were two words in Japanese each one for a different kind of limestone and I had used the wrong one. I’d have to check that out. Later I found that there was only one word and I had used the correct one. I have since checked some photos I took in the museum I visited back in 2013 and according to the map of Yakushima’s geology, there are some mudstones and metamorphic rocks in that area. The rocks I saw, however, didn’t match the appearance of the samples I photographed in the museum, but also didn’t match the museum’s limestone sample either. I should have written down what Mr. Tetsuka had said.

Back at his house, we were invited inside. Books lined every space except for where a collection of jazz LPs and CDs lined the wall by the sound system. I noticed that Mr. Tetsuka’s books looked really old.

Day 7 house 11

As we sat around the small pit in the living floor, Mr. Tetsuka started a fire. There was a black kettle suspended over the flames in which water was to boil for tea. Above that there was a basket with cheese that was hanging there for smoking. The fire burned and the smoke drifted up into the rafters. I looked up and saw many thick and somewhat unsettlingly large spider nests. I asked where the smoke went out. Mr. Tetsuka replied that the smoke went out naturally. Weren’t the spiders bothered by the smoke? Apparently not. I had always imaged that spiders could be smoked out of a cave with a fire but now it seemed my assumption had been incorrect. I looked over to the bookshelf and inquired about the aged look. If he had moved here only 30 years ago, why did his books look to be over 150 years old? “Graduation,” Mr. Tetsuka said. “You’ll notice that the oldest-looking books are at the top while the newer-looking ones that still have some colour are at the bottom. This is because of the smoke. And since the smoke changes the colour of the upper books more, the aged-appearance graduates.”

Day 7 house 61

The water boiled over and splashed into the hot ashes. Smoke billowed and ash flakes danced all around. My eyes were stung. I had flashbacks to sitting around a campfire as a child when the wind would change direction and blow smoke in our faces. “I never thought,” I said to Mr. Tetsuka, “that I would experience the campfire feeling in someone’s living room.” Everything in Mr. Tetsuka’s house looked smoke-tarnished and weathered. I wouldn’t wish to live in such a house, but it was indeed enchanting. I said to Mr. Mori that I would enjoy the opportunity to spend time photographing inside the house. He agreed with me having had the same idea.

Living room heater

Living room heater

Smoked cheese

Smoked cheese

Entrance

Entrance

Classic jazz

Classic jazz

Winter on Yakushima – Chapter Eight: The Green of the White Valley

ŒShiratani Unsuikyo 白谷雲水峡

ŒShiratani Unsuikyo 白谷雲水峡

One of Yakushima’s famous places is Shiratani Unsuikyo. The Kanji mean White-valley Cloud-water-ravine. The name originates in the often cloudy and rainy climate as well as the white waterfalls along the course of the stream flowing through the ravine. We hadn’t stopped here on my previous visit, and I was so glad to know that it was on the itinerary this time. But there were going to be two added bonuses.

The first was that I was going to meet the guide that had originally been planned for this trip. Jennifer was an American from Florida who had come to Japan some years prior and had lived in a couple of other places before coming to Yakushima where she now works as a guide. The production company had thought that for an international program like Journeys in Japan, having an English speaking guide would be appropriate. However, due to the training schedule of Yakushima guides and also because Jenny didn’t have a level two certificate (for winter guiding up the mountain) she couldn’t be hired to lead the ascent. The producer still wanted her for the program though, and so it was decided that she and I would cross paths at Shiratani.

The other bonus was that I was going to be reunited with Mr. Kikuchi, my guide from my previous visit. As I had written in the blog posts about my ascent of Miyanouradake in 2013, Mr. Kikuchi seemed to know every plant, animal and historical fact about Yakushima. When he had led me through the forest that summer, he stopped to indicate some plant, insect or some aspect of the scenery and explained what was interesting about it. I still remember the land leach that did not suck blood, the devil stag beetle, and the furry undersides of the mountain rhododendron leaves. I was also able to discuss with him what I had read about the history of Yakushima and gain new insights.

We (the TV crew and I) left in the taxi van with rain falling, and I seemed to be the only one thankful for it. As I mentioned previously in another post, the weather on my previous visit had been sunny for the whole four days of shooting. Only on the last day when we went kayaking did the skies finally deliver a deluge. This meant that I had not captured a single image of typical Yakushima forest scenery: misty air and lush greenery. It seemed that this time the rain would ensure that I got my Yakushima wet forest pics. Rain did mean that Mr. Mori’s shooting would be affected, so I understood his concerns with the weather. However, once again the rain drops ceased as we arrived at the trailhead and the sun began to peak out through small gaps in the clouds.

We had arrived ahead of Jennifer and so we set off up the trail a little in order to scout for a good location. The stream flowed over granite rocks and down through a cleft while a green canopy arched overhead. At a large open rocky area, the stream spread out in pools. Between the trees, moss covered tree trunks and rocks. It was the Yakushima I had seen in books and on posters but the sun kept a curious eye on our progress and washes of light would suddenly flood the scenery temporarily. I tried to steal and moment or two for shooting but Mr. Ichino assured me there would be plenty of time for that soon enough.

IF

We returned to the trailhead and met Jenny. She seemed a native of Yakushima already, laid back, easy-going, forward enough to appear friendly, reserved enough to seem unobtrusive. Having thought of many questions to ask her for our filmed conversation, I was almost concerned of being too loquacious and inquisitive. As we hiked back up the trail, I began asking Jenny questions and engaging her in conversation. Her responses were so easy and natural that I began to feel that perhaps I was being too conscious of being the talkative outsider / off-islander.

Jennifer

Jennifer

Within a short time we reached an opening in the forest near the stream. I was to stand and shoot some scenery while Jenny came down the path and called out a friendly “hello”. She would start the conversation by asking me something and then I would inquire whether or not she was a visitor and from there we would discuss her experience as a guide on Yakushima. Thinking about the program’s audience, I wanted to help promote that there was an English-speaking guide and tried to include a question that would give Jenny a chance to advertise her services to any potential visitors who might be reluctant to hire a guide believing that they all spoke only Japanese. As it turned out during our conversation, most of Jenny’s clients were Japanese. This was not, however, so much because Japanese visitors chose a western guide because of the novelty but rather because she worked for a guiding company who assigned their guides to groups based on availability. Jenny was of course fluent in Japanese and knew a lot about the island’s nature.

After our initial staged meeting had been filmed, Jenny and I continued to chat about guiding life on the island. She mentioned two points that made an impression on me. The first was that within the guiding community there were differing opinions on the protection of the island’s natural environment. She pointed out the hot topic of toilet facilities. At the moment, there were pit toilets near the shelters. She explained that the creation and maintenance of pit toilets was difficult work (pit toilets do fill up and making new pits is met with the challenge of shallow soil and the granite bedrock) and though donations were supposed to pay for it, the workers were actually all volunteers because there was not enough money to actually pay them. Donation money was used for supplies and equipment and also allocated for other needs in the park related to maintenance, not only toilets. One place was now using the sawdust system where a device churned sawdust and microbes broke down the waste, the sawdust helping to trap heat and providing a suitable environment for the microbes to work. But this system requires electricity and that meant running power lines up through the forest. The other commonly used system is the carry-out bag. Small tents along popular routes have a toilet frame inside. A durable carry-out bag (to be brought up by hikers) can be set on the toilet frame and the contents then securely bound and safely carried back down the mountain. The problem is that not everyone takes their bags back down again. So the human waste issue that plagues all places of natural beauty in Japan and everywhere else in the ecologically-concerned world is a hot topic among the guides and conservationists of Yakushima as well.

The other memorable story she told me was about the abandoned cats and dogs that live in the forests of Yakushima. I believe she said there was an estimated 15,000 stray cats living on the island, though I might have this number confused with a news story about strays that appeared on TV shortly before or after I went to Yakushima. One day, Jenny was leading a group of visitors down a path when a sound came from the woods. “Was that a dog?” a woman in the party asked. Jenny explained that there was a bird on the island that was good at mimicking sounds and it was surely that bird they had just heard. Just then, a deer burst forth from the bushes and sprinted across the path, heading down the slope the river. Hot in pursuit was a dog! The deer was forced to turn around at the river and tried to return to the path but the dog met the deer there and took it down. Right in front of Jenny’s party, the dog began ripping into the deer.

I would have enjoyed speaking with Jenny longer but we still had work to do and so she went off down the trail by herself. Mr. Mori and Mr. Kurihara were busy recording scenes by the stream and so I set about capturing a few shots myself. Then Mr. Ichino gave us the signal that it was time to head back and meet Mr. Kikuchi.

IF

I met my old guide with a warm handshake. Though we hadn’t met for 18 months, meeting Kikuchi-san again was like seeing him after only a week. Kikuchi-san was to officially introduce me to Shiratani Unsuikyo. He led me up the path and almost immediately stopped to point out a small white flower in blossom. “This is called ohgokayo-ohren オオゴカヨウオウレン (Coptis ramose). It’s one of the earliest flowers to bloom and is a sign that spring is coming.” At a waterfall he explained, “This is Hiryu Falls. Most Japanese waterfalls with word “ryu” in the name us the Kanji for “dragon” but in this case the Kanji for “flow” is used. The name means “Leaping Flow” because of the way the water bounds down the rocks.” As ever, Kikuchi-san was a textbook of knowledge. He pointed out “phoenix moss” (looks like the tail of a phoenix), a diseased tree, the importance of a particular tree to the forest, and several other things.

„Coptis ramosa

„Coptis ramosa

Phoenix moss ホウオウコケ

Phoenix moss ホウオウコケ

He took me up to what used to be called Mononoke Hime Forest after the Gibli film “Mononoke Hime”, which takes place largely in a thick green and mossy forest, and it is said that the forest scenery here inspired the artwork and setting in the film. However, the name “Mononoke Hime” is under copyright protection and so the map had been relabeled “Kokemusu Mori” or basically “The Moss-Covered Forest”. Here it was said that a lucky visitor might catch sight of the forest spirit known as the “Kodama”. Though I saw nothing of the sort, I have to admit that I felt a certain amount of excitement. There was a tingling sensation inside me that was not unlike anticipation. For the camera, I suggested that by standing still one might be able to feel the presence of the Kodama. Honestly, it was too busy there with the five of us and three women sitting and chatting behind us. But had I come alone… Who knows?

ŒThe mossy forest 苔むす森

ŒThe mossy forest 苔むす森

Me with Kikuchi-san

Me with Kikuchi-san

We had a bit of time heading back for more photographs and at a crossing of the stream, Mr. Kurihara was recording the sound of the running water while Mr. Mori filmed more scenery. I was enjoying having so much time for photography, quite different from the hurry and hustle of the previous visit.

With a bit of sunshine...

With a bit of sunshine…

...and without any sunshine.

…and without any sunshine.

When the working day had ended and we said farewell to Kikuchi-san, we then headed back to town for dinner. I noticed for the first time that the wall of the hotel restaurant was covered with calendars that recorded the weather dating back to 2005. Though known as the wettest place in Japan, the hotel’s records indicated that Yakushima experiences sometimes several days consecutively without rain. It seems my visit in early August, 2013 had come at the end of a month-long dry spell. Of course, this was the weather recorded at Miyanoura. Other parts of the island may have had different weather, possibly wetter weather.

The weather record

The weather recordfor 2013. Notice the empty circles in July. They are all consecutive days of sunshine.

Winter in Yakushima – Chapter Seven: The Kosugitani Settlement

As planned, we left the Shin Takatsuka hut around 8:00 and began our descent. We passed the Jomon Sugi and I stopped for a few parting thoughts. The tree remained silent and unmoving.

We came to Wilson’s Stump and I wondered when I would be passing this way again. I had been so fortunate for both opportunities to come to Yakushima and see some of its great natural landmarks as well as gain knowledge of this splendid island.

As we descended we encountered a few small groups of visitors, mostly university students on a graduation trip. I recalled how in the summer our pace had been impeded horrendously due to the large number of tourist groups being led up the steps. Each time a group appeared, Mr. Kikuchi and I had had to stand aside and wait, sometimes for three groups in succession. This time the going was much swifter, though ice on the steps meant that we had to descend with caution.

We took a long break where we met up with the trolley rails and had lunch. The sun was still shining though a cloud cover was gradually covering the sky and thickening.

Some time later, we arrived back at the site of the Kosugitani Settlement. There was a view down to the green waters of the Anbo River and some enormous boulders. Mr. Mori and Mr. Kurihara were going to do some filming here and so I once again broke loose from the group and went off on my own. I scrambled through the brush and clambered onto one of the huge boulders and began shooting the scenery here by the river.

Ä@B

x@B

IF

Once satisfied, I returned to a covered area with benches where the porters, Mr. Koga, and Mr. Ichino were talking. Two monkeys came down from a concrete slope that led into the forest. I had visited the school ground on my previous visit but I was unaware of a trail that led through the woods and around the old village site. I decided to go exploring.

First I walked up the concrete slope and looked at the scenery around me. It was a mossy forest with young trees now but until 1970 there had been homes and some community facilities here. I turned to my left and was surprised to see a Yakushika buck resting on a bed of moss barely three metres from me. He watched me without apprehension and chewed on something. I carefully lifted my camera and clicked off several exposures. He seemed curious but not at all alarmed. I bade him good day with a nod and thanked him for posing and set off through the trees.

A yakushika buck

A yakushika buck

At first I became aware only of some large concrete or brick blocks that were covered in moss and signified where houses had once stood. Then I began to notice stone steps, depressions in the ground, and discarded items of glass, porcelain, and rusting metal that lay half covered by the detritus of the forest floor. As I walked, I discovered a drain gutter, porcelain objects for electric wires, and some light blue bathroom tiles. The more I looked, the more I found. It occurred to me that the path led throughout the whole settlement site, past the foundation remains of buildings and abandoned items that people had tossed when they all left for good. It reminded me of the village site of the Nichitsu Mine in Saitama, where many useful items had just been left, except that the mining village in Saitama still had all the buildings standing.

Kosugitani settlement remains

Kosugitani settlement remains

ŒBathroom tiles?

ŒBathroom tiles?

I informed Mr. Ichino of my discoveries and showed him some of the photos I had taken. He permitted me to lead him up the path and he commented on the things I showed him. Then at last Mr. Mori and Mr. Kurihara returned and we all prepared for the last part of the hike back to the parking lot.

The sky had gradually been turning grey and when we finally reached the parking lot at the end of the trolley tracks, some very fine raindrops began to fall. We said our goodbyes to Mr. Koga and the porters, loaded ourselves into the taxi van, and headed back to our hotel in Miyanoura. We had the rest of the afternoon off and we all took advantage of being able to have a shower. I set off into town to search for a store where I could buy a few snacking items for the next day and then spent a bit of time relaxing and preparing my things for the next day before sitting down to dinner together with the other three. We toasted to our good fortune with the weather and our successful winter ascent of Miyanouradake. The biggest part of our trip was over; the main story for the TV program filmed. However, we had three more days with assignments planned for each of them. The adventure was not over yet.