Getting High
"I'm gonna die. I'm gonna freaking die."
I shuddered in the sharp breeze, scrunching up against the metal ladder and trying my hardest not to look to the vertical drop to my right. The ladder was reliable enough, bolted solidly to the mountain face, and hundreds of trekkers before me had gone up and down it without incident, but its overt slant towards the edge of the cliff we were currently hiking along filled me with green vertigo. It drew my gaze and held my hands and feet still in an inner Mexican standoff.
Dawn that Saturday found us shivering in the Hokodate parking lot trailhead of Mount Chokai, a 2236 meter (7,335 foot) high peak divided between northern Yamagata and southern Akita. We had arrived a good half hour or so before our designated 7 AM meeting time, and as the others trickled in, my energy bubbled up. Eventually a dozen or so of us split off from those waiting for the last of our group to arrive and headed up to start the trek to the peak.
As we were taking a picture at the mouth of the trail, a middle-aged Japanese man hopped down the last of the stairs and said, casually, "There's a bear."
"A bear?"
"Yeah, a big one. Stay on the path and you should be fine though. Good luck!"
We looked nervously at each other, adjusted our backpacks, and started the climb.
The trail started off nice enough, if not rather steep--a paved stair case with flat uphill breaks in between for the first twenty minutes or so that dribbles off into a broken stone pathway. Beyond the crater lake, about an hour and a half or so up, the path disappears completely and the only indicators to show you the correct way are arrows painted here or there on prominent boulders.
I channeled my inner mountain goat and scrambled up the rocks using both hands, pausing every few minutes to draw deep breaths of cold autumn air. My lungs and legs burned, but I wondered more at the gorgeous view--the rolling greens and oranges and yellows, the Japan Sea visible in the distance, merging with the sky with no discernable horizon.
That changed when we reached a stretch of trail that hugged the edge of a cliff. Adrenaline spiked in my system and I willed my limbs to be steady, focusing on the area directly in front of me and blocking out everything else.
Then came the ladder, where I realized we were not hiking Chokai anymore, we were clinging to it, slowly ascending to the summit with each boulder we hoisted our bodies up over.
Four hours or so later found us atop said summit, huddled together in the harsh wind, hastily scarfing down whatever provisions we had brought along for lunch before gathering the shreds of whatever energy we had left for the descent.
The way back down wasn't nearly as bad as the way up, but my legs had been aching since before the ladder, and now they were absolutely screaming. I had to grab onto the loose fabric of my pants at points to get my feet to lift high enough over some stones. I crouched down at every drop of a foot or more, grabbed hold of nearby boulders, and eased my body down. J scouted the way out before me, stopping to hold out a hand when it looked like I might be stuck. People who had started with the second group passed us and were out of sight before I could find my next foothold.
Somehow I made it back to the parking lot in one piece, tired, sore, and thirsty, but in tact after the eight hour ordeal. We ate an early dinner in the lodge before packing back up in J's car and heading towards a hot spring to soak our murdered muscles.
The next two days found me grimacing and groaning like someone four times my age every time I had to get up or sit down. My legs were dead weights attached to the bottom of my torso. By Monday night, thanks to a second dip in a local hot spring, stretching and slow walking, and copious TLC on J's part, they were nearly back to normal. I was even able to go to my aerobics class on Tuesday night.
The sick part of this is that I want to hike more. I hope the Colorado Rockies can forgive me for never taking an interest in hiking until now--I'll be back to scuttle up a fourteener someday soon, I promise!
Getting Naked
This weekend we went up to Akita again, this time for a stay at a traditional Japanese inn at Kuroyu Onsen. We left early Saturday morning to try and get there early enough to hike the mountains the inn snuggles into, but due to rain and our general lack of energy after the five hour drive when we got there, ended up passing. Instead, we checked into our room, set up our futon, and lounged around talking as the rest of the group arrived. Around 4:30 or so, we ambled off to soak in the hot springs before dinner, a stir up of soba and vegetables provided by the lovely presidents of our JET association up here.
The hot springs at this inn are one step up from an open-air bath. We walked to a small shack, divided up, and stripped off in the changing area. There's one tiny alcove to shower off before bathing, so I lathered up, rinsed off, and tested the water in the inside bath, which scalded my toes with unforgiving heat. I ventured to the outside bath, where the water was perfect thanks to the dismal mist. I soaked solo for twenty minutes or so before a few other girls came in, and spent a good part of an hour chatting before we decided to get out and dry off for dinner.
The night passed in drunken debauchery, including an impromptu foreigner soiree in the inn's mixed bath. I'd had just enough Yellowtail (and other drinks shoved my way for a taste) to join in, though every embarrassed shred of me screamed not to--and for those of you balking at the thought of guys and gals naked in a hot spring together passing around a bottle of sake quick enough to make your head spin, I promise it's not as indecent as it might come off. I'm not going to say that stripping down to our birthday suits stripped away any remaining barriers between us as a group or anything like that. I'm not going to say we were grown-up about it, because with quips like, "Come on, just let them go!" in reference to covering myself and "I keep trying to find a safe place to look, but it's just penises!" there can't be a legitimate argument for maturity.
I will say, though, that there is nothing better for a quick boost of confidence and appreciation of one's body than getting naked and still feeling comfortable around one's peers. We are all beautiful, every one of us, every inch of us, every fold and curve and angle of us.
Somehow I ended up very, very drunk. I blame the little sips I kept taking off other people's drinks, since I had only brought one bottle of merlot to split with J. The dehydrating effect of two hot spring soaks in one afternoon most likely didn't help my level of sobriety.
I managed to get dressed and get myself back to the lodge before the alcohol hit me. I flopped around like a fish as poor, patient J tried to convince me to get downstairs to brush my teeth. I love him for making me do that, because having to deal with a gritty mouth on top of the hangover that greeted me the next morning would have just been awful.
Getting Back
J started me off right this morning with a pancake and scrambled egg breakfast before my drive back to Shinjo. The next couple of weeks of lessons are all mini Halloween parties, something I'm looking forward to intensely since this year I get to do more than explain about what Halloween is and make paper Jack-'o-Lanterns with my kids. Planned activities include coloring masks, learning how to trick-or-treat, watching the opening of The Nightmare Before Christmas, and pretending to be creepy-crawlies.
You almost forgot I have a day job to fund all these wanton weekends, didn't you?
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| In the bouldery bosom of Chokai. |
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