Hikes around Sakurae

Kawahira bridge to Takanoji (32k)
October 24th, 2004

Downstream from my village, the next bridge that crosses the Gono river is at Kawahira, which is where I start todays hike. Instead of crossing the river into Kawahira I take the road into the mountains. There are no signs, so I am not sure where I will be passing through, but my destination is Takanoji, a temple high up in the mountains. As is usual this time of the year, the valleys are filled with mist that starts to burn off as the sun climbs into the sky. In the dozen or so walks around the area I live in the past months I have started to get a feel for the different areas. There is not so much that I can categorize as yet,... subtle diferences in the architecture of the farmhouses, the differences between the mountain settlements and the riverside settlements, differences caused by geography, history, and economics (the intersection of geography and history?). I feel that I am starting to " in-habit" the place.

The road winds around a valley that is flat enough for a couple of farms, then the valley narrows, the road steepens, and there is just the forest and ever-present sound of rushing water. Along the way I come across a common sight away from the main roads... a junked vehicle. As long as its on private property, its allowed, and it costs money to junk a car through a scrapyard, so....
I keep my eyes open for 2 temples that are marked on my map, but cant find them, and suddenly an Onsen ( Hots spring spa) and Ryokan ( hotel) appear. There are no signs to them from the main road, and I didnt even know we had an Onsen just a few kilometres from my home. There is an old lady cleaning the road in front of the ryokan, so I ask her if I am on the right road for Takano-ji, but she has no idea. A little further on and I see another person walking on the road ahead of me so I quicken my pace to catch up to them. Its a little old lady, about 4 and a half feet tall and bent over. She is the first human I have encountered who has been walking along roads on my hikes. She assures me that this is the road to Takaonji so I slow down and we walk along together. We pass through the village of Kanzui and the road heads up the mountain. I understand little of what she is saying to me, but I understand that she lives in Kanzui and is going to visit a friend in Shiguma up in the mountains. About halfway up there is a Tori and steep steps lead up to a shrine. Its not marked on the map, but is not a new shrine. My distrust of Japanese maps grows. At the top the road levels out and passes through Shiguma. The old lady leaves me here and tells me to take the right turn when the road comes to a T.
The only activity going on outside are a few old people tending to their gardens and paddies. It is rare to see any younger people working the land, so I wonder what will become of areas like this when the older generation die-off. About half way along the valley I encounter a vending machine dispensing drinks so I stop and enjoy a hot coffee. In 8 kilometres or so this is the only vending machine I have encountered, a sure indicator of just how far out into the boonies this is. A little further along and an old man is weeding the side of the road. Just inside the forest is a new, wooden tori, and behind it a small new shrine. There used to be many more shrines than now. In the Meiji era the government ,for various reasons all connected with controlling the people, closed down many shrines and amalgamated them in a "one village one shrine" program. Maybe this new shrine is the return of the Kami to its original home. The road descends gently to the T-junction the old lady told me about and I take the right which heads uphill and soon becomes a single dirt track. I pass a farmhouse with its distinctive steep roof that once would have been thatched, but now is currugated iron. What a wondeful location, in a clearing on the ridge.
Another couple of hundred metres and the track dead-ends in the yard of another farmhouse, and the old people are feeding a thresher with the rice harvest. They tell me to go back a few hundred metres and take the turn. The forest is dark and silent. On one side dense bamboo, and on the other Sugi. I pass some abandoned houses that are barely visible being surrounded by bamboo. Made of wood, bamboo, mud, and paper, a traditional house returns quickly to the earth once exposed to the elements. Bamboo quickly invades and dominates. Cresting the hill, the road descends steeply and soon becomes asphalt again. According to my map I must take a right at the next junction. An hour later I am certain that I must have missed it, and as I am studying the map a pick-up comes along the road, the first vehicle I have encountered in more than 2 hours. I flag it down and ask the driver directions. Sure enough, I am some kilometres down the road in the wrong direction, so I start back the way I came. A few minutes later the truck comes back and the driver motions to me to get in the back of the truck and he gives me a lift back to where I failed to notice the correct turn. The road now goes up a long, steep valley, and it is typical of so many of the backroads around here... weeds, and even bushes grow out of the center of the asphalt,... bamboo and other vegetation hang into the road.... and it is silent, save for the sound of rushing water far below. After a few K the roaf levels out and by a few farms is a crude sign pointing up the hill to Takano-Ji. I have come to Takano-Ji for 2 reasons. One is that the ceiling of the temple is a National Treasure, and the second is that my hamlet, Shimonnohara, is linked to Takano-Ji by the Enko Legend. At the base of the entrance is a large flat stone that is where the kappa left the bell, and then a set of stairs lead up to the entrance gate, gauarded on either side by a couple of bright red fierce-looking Nio. Through the gate there is another set of steps leading up to the temple. I was told that there were 120 steps to the temple, and I only count 40, but then I see the big staircase leading up to the temple proper.
As I slowly make my way up the steps, I notice another staircase running parallel to the one i'm one. It connects the priests house to the temple, and is roofed. The roof is not for the priests benefit, but to protect old scrolls that the priest must carry uncovered. The view from the top is good, but not stupendous, looking out over the surrounding forested mountains. The temple building itself it not particularly imposing, but upon sliding open the doors and peering into the dark interior I see what makes it special. The ceiling is covered in a painting of reds, blues and greens that is more reminiscent of temples in China or SE Asia rather than the usually simple ( sometimes dull) Japanese variety. Above the main altar is a mandala, and running around the outside are turquoise dragons. Interspersed are hexagonal patterns similar to Islamic tile work. Outside again, there is a signboard marking the location of where the bell was. There is no information as to why the more than 500 year-old bell is gone, but like almost all temple bells in Japan it was probably "donated" to the war effort and melted down for armaments during WWII. Behind the temple is a torii leading up to a small shrine, and behind that the trail continues for another kilometer or so the a ruin on the very top of the mountain. Coming down into the parking lot, a luxury car pulls in and out step 2 middle-aged couple, the men dressed in suits. Toorists I guess. I approach and ask one of the men what the time is. He is gruff and seems offended that I dare speak to him. Must be city folk, quite a contrast to the friendliness I receive from the country folk. Its getting late so its time to retrace my steps back to my truck. The return seems quicker, and the hills not so steep.