Toroi-San in Japan: Part 2

If Troy had been worried that I didn't have a full day planned, he would've been dead wrong. In fact, he was almost dead after our full day. We both were. About a week before coming to Kyoto, I used a free guidebook and a book I brought from home called Hiking in Japan. Using these two sources, I planned out a great day hike for us. I linked up a couple of walking routes from the free book with a hike from the other one. We'd see about 5 temples and hike up to the top of Daimonji Mountain. Our return route, down the mountain, would drop us off back near the beginning. If you could just see the map, it would make perfect sense.

The first site we stopped at was Kiyomizu-dera. Sure, this place is an important place as far as important places go. I'm sure there are several stories about several important people that have been here or that did something. But, I like this place because it kind of reminds me of the place where Bruce Wayne learned ninjutsu in Tibet, in the film, Batman Begins.

Next, we headed out for the Philosopher's Path. This path is mainly a walkway next to a little river that essentially makes up the easternmost north-south boundary of Kyoto's main tourist area. Since I'd been to Kyoto before, I didn't take many pictures as most of them would have been repeats of the last time. Even though he had never been here, Troy didn't take too many, either.

After the first leg of our trip (the non-mountainous leg), we took a break and had some ice cream from a vending machine. I then produced the fabulous Hiking in Japan. I've had this book for about 4 years and I was excited to finally get to use it. It contains step by step, landmark by landmark, instructions for hiking trips all over Japan. It should be titled Forcedmarching in Japan. It took us up the trail with little problem. The banner that's equivalent to our "Only you can prevent forestfires." was moved (I've always thought that temporary landmarks like banners or homeless people should be avoided. They're not always in the same place day after day or year after year). We also kept seeing the elderly coming down the trail. This motivated us in that it must not be too far or too hard.

At some point, on the way to the summit, Troy admitted that most of his deathmarch-style walks have been on flat pavement. Actually, I don't know if it was an admission or a realization. We also encountered some really "nice" concrete staircases, near the top.

Above is an accidental near-panoramic view of the Kyoto area from Daimonji-yama. Until now, neither of us knew just what a sprawling mess Kyoto was. In the fall, people light huge bonfires in the shape of Japanese characters on several of the mountainsides that border Kyoto. I think the fires are supposed to help remind spirits which way heaven is. We didn't know it yet, but we could've used some bonfires to direct us back down the mountain.

We took our lunch at the bonfire spot and took in the view. We rested his knees and my pinky toes. Oh, I forgot to mention his knees? The climb to the top and the subsequent staircases were hell on his knees. Additionally, he had only recently recovered from an aikido-related knee injury. My problems were just the opposite. Walking on a flat surface, severely exacerbated my blisters. Climbing and descending used a different part of my feet. Since, I've been climbing/descending since I came to Japan, that wasn't a problem. Up and down, I'd speed up and Troy would fall behind. On level areas, Troy would speed up and I'd fall back. Our team, instead of exhibiting our strengths was exhibiting our weaknesses.

The guidebook (See picture above) from The Ornery Planet series, instructed as to continue on to the true summit and then down a trail on the other side. After a few false summits, we finally began to descend. It was fairly easygoing until we entered the treeline. There were several little sidetrails. The book mentioned a few of them. As for the rest, we just took the one most traveled. We still saw the occasional fresh-looking hiker meeting us.

HOW THE BOOK FAILED US (or how I failed as a mountain trail guide)

According to the book, we were supposed to follow these little yellow-painted, concrete markers. We found our first one and it seemed like the book couldn't go wrong. After all, you can't just dig up 500 markers and move them (like you could a homeless guy or banner). Another good sign was that they headed down the mountain, toward Kyoto. The book was clear, when the trail forked or at an intersection, "Follow the yellow markers." Three times, we lost the marker. We'd turn around and find some yellow or red tape on some trees and follow them until we found another yellow marker. A couple of times, we weren't even on a trail. As we would slide down a steep, dirty incline, we'd wonder out loud how those two, clean, fresh-looking guys, thirty minutes earlier, made it up this part. A few times, Troy (lightheartedly?) threatened my life.

Above, you can see what Troy saw. I kept this distance because Troy's 6' 6" tall. He has an amazing reach. At this distance, he can't get me. Notice that I've got our trusty guidebook in hand.

We persevered and as the sounds of the city grew louder, we grew more relaxed. Our mountain path dumped us out in about the middle of The Philosopher's Path. This spot was way off course. Amazingly, we followed yellow markers all the way to the bottom. The markers took us through an electric fence, too. Troy said, "What does that sign say?" I was tired and quickly snapped, "Troy, I don't read Japanese!" As I started to grab the wire (it looked like a plastic strap), Troy said, "No! Don't touch it!" I decided to take a look at the sign and sure enough, there was the kanji for "electricity," the Japanese word for "danger," and a sketch of a hand touching a wire with sparks all about it.

We came out through small graveyard and stepped over a surprised street vendor and headed home. Along the street, Troy's pace picked up and my hobble returned.

I finally put bandaids on each of my little toes. After a full day of walking, though, the blister simply started to come out from under the bandaid. It's been eight days and my little toes still hurt. Troy took great satisfaction that my toes were killing me as much as his knees were him. It reminds me of a time when Phil (a sometime sufferer of kneepain) squealed in pleasure once when some knee pain slowed me down on a hike. What's wrong with people?