Hiking with my harem

This is one of the reasons I love Japan! I took a group of 7 lovely ladies to Takao-san, for the most part repeating the hike I lead back in September during my first weekend in Japan. We started at Takao-san guchi, took the river trail to the summit, followed the ridge to Shiro-yama, then hiked down to Sagami Lake. It was a カンペキ perfect Autumn day, and snow-covered Mt. Fuji was shining in the sunlight.

Another beautiful autumn day in the mountains of Tokyo

Guillaume and I met Kohei-kun and Yoshida-kun to hike up the very steep slopes of the Oku-Tama area on this clear autumn day. The area, which is the headwaters of the river which supplies much of Tokyo's water supply, is characterized by extremely steep mountainsides, on which are grown wasabi and yuzu (citrus fruits that are used for teas, candies, and bathing). Due to the nice weather, the trails were crowded with elderly (though strong) hikers, as usual. Some of them commented on the international flavor of our group, with an American, a Frenchman, and a Japanese who spent much of his childhood in Britian, talking in a mix of all three pertinent languages.

Later at night I was amused by two Irishmen at the station, arguing over which of the two had a stronger Irish accent, and both vying for my vote. Living abroad like this really makes one feel like a citizen of the world, as you're just one amongst many from all different countries and cultures.

My pet Godzilla

This weekend held some beautiful hiking in Yamanashi prefecture at a place called Shosenkyo　昇仙峡. It's a heavily forested valley with vertical stone walls, kind of like a small Yosemite valley. Along with the pervasive cedar, cypress, and bamboo trees, the forest holds many maples and other broadleaf trees which were on fire with autumn colors.
We hiked to the rim of this miniature Yosemite, and climbed the back face of a rock that is shaped just like Half Dome (though again in miniature). Also like Half Dome, cables are set in place to assist with the climb. The view of Mt. Fuji from the top was beautiful on that clear Autumn day.
Descending back to the shopping/souvenier arcade at the valley's entrance, I met a very cute pet Godzilla at an ice cream and sweets shop.
The drive back to Tokyo was long. The folks I went with, from the outdoor club, chose to drive for the trip instead of riding the rails because recently the tolls for Japanese freeways have been reduced to be exceedingly cheap. This is an effort by the new government (the Democratic party) to stimulate the economy by encouraging people to travel. Since roads are public but railways are private, the government has control over freeway tolls, but not rail fares. Therefore rail fares remain at their market level, but tolls are much cheaper than that, which is causing people to drive for holidays instead of riding trains, and this is resulting in an abundance of traffic jams (like we experienced last night), accidents, and air pollution. My friends from the outdoor club, though enjoying the opportunity to travel for less money, also realize the trouble with this method of economic stimulus, as they are conscientious about air pollution and global warming, and not so accustomed to sitting in traffic jams for long stretches.

Natural beauty and economic depression

This weekend I was lucky enough to be invited to two very rural places in the north of Japan, the region called Hokuriku 北陸, Ishikawa 石川 prefecture. The agency that sponsors my fellowship here, the Japan Society for the Promotion of Science (JSPS), every so often sponsors high schools around the country to invite a JSPS fellow to teach a class at their school. This weekend, my boss (Professor Yamazaki) and I were invited to Nanao 七尾 high school, which is regionally known for its good science program. We decided to teach the students about global warming and its effect on the ocean, as this topic is a good mix of my engineering knowledge and Prof. Yamazaki's knowledge of science. I wrote the talk in English, and lectured in primarily Japanese (I'm still at grade-school level Japanese language ability however), though translated the main points into English, as the class was attended by about 10 Singaporean high school students as well, who were visiting for a short time on a school exchange trip. At times when my Japanese language ability wasn't up to par for the technical explanations necessary, Prof. Yamazaki translated for the Japanese students. In all, it was a great experience for me to teach in such an international environment, and to see how the Japanese and Singaporean students helped each other and cooperated during the following laboratory section of the class. The cooperation between the two nationalities was especially heartwarming in light of the fact that the Japanese students spoke little English, and the Singaporean students spoke little Japanese; despite their language barrier, they were helping each other as much as possible, and their teachers did very well at facilitating mixing between the two groups.

In addition to the kindness the students showed to each other, I was impressed with the care they took of their school. Unlike US schools which are cleaned by janitorial staff, Japanese schools are cleaned by their students. Maybe when students know they need to clean up their own messes, they are less likely to make a mess in the first place? There was no graffiti or writing on the bathroom walls or outside walls here.

After the class ended, the teachers and students invited Prof. Yamazaki and I to attend a tea ceremony, put on by their Japanese culture club. Here we were fed daifuku 大福, a Japanese sweet, before each receiving a cup of Japanese tea 抹茶. The tea is very bitter, which makes the preceeding sweet important, as only by preceeding the bitter tea by a very sweet candy is the tea enjoyable (at least for a sweet tooth like me), and the contrast between the sweet and bitter is what makes the experience special. There is also ceremony involved in receiving the tea, at the server gives you the cup with the front facing her. Before drinking, you turn the cup 180 degrees, so the front faces you. Then, before returning the cup to the server, you turn it back 180 degrees so that the front faces here again. All this is accompanied by repeated bowing, the timing of which I think I'm getting the hang of in everyday life here.

After the class at the high school, Prof. Yamazaki invited me to his inlaws' home in Suzu 珠洲, in the very rural north, where there aren't even any railroads anymore. It's a beautiful peninsula of rugged, natural coastline, low mountains, and diverse forests all showing red and yellow in their autumn splendor. The region holds many old fishing and farming villages that date back hundreds of years to the Edo period, as it seems one of the least seismically active areas in the country, so structures are not subject to frequent earthquakes.
Despite its beauty, the area, like so many rural areas in Japan, is experiencing severe population decline as young folks flock to big cities (mostly Tokyo) for work. The only population remaining are the elderly and the young folks who choose careers as fishermen or farmers. I was told that in the last 20 years, the population of Suzu dropped from 40,000 to 10,000. Along with the population drop, railroad service to the region was discontinued because it wasn't profitable, and this has likely caused yet more population drop because the region is much less accessible than it used to be; buses run, but infrequently, so private automobile is the main means of transport, and this leaves all the elderly inhabitants of the region stranded and dependent on helpers (elder-care is a newly booming industry in Japan).

Suzu shows an unexpected combination of natural beauty and economic depression. Towns still cluster around old railways stations, which are now closed and in decay, reminding me to some extent of so many rural towns in the US. Despite the area's economic depression, its inhabitants are extremely friendly and warm. Prof. Yamazaki's family welcomed me into their home with great hospitality and went out of their way to cook delicious vegetarian food and to show me the sights of the area. The local temple was also having a festival, and, at the request of Prof. Yamazaki's mother-in-law, offered me savory vegetarian temple food 精進料理 upon which I stuffed myself. This was followed by another tea ceremony. This time, the tea was boiled the old-fashioned was, in a fire pit under the tatami of the temple floor. Before electric water heaters, even before gas or wood-burning stoves became common, the way to boil water was in a charcoal fire pit (shown below) sunk below the floor. An iron kettle was hung above the fire pit for boiling water. Here, however, the kettle is sitting on a rail, instead of hanging in the more traditional way. Suzu is the only place in Japan where I've seen this traditional fire pit. Elsewhere in Japan I've seen only gas or electric stoves. I worried here about indoor air pollution, as burning charcoal of course produces much smoke. However, traditional Japanese building are built with paper-thin walls and are so well ventilated that the indoor air quality did not suffer.
Suzu is also nationally famous for its traditional Japanese sweets 和菓子, which are delicous morsels made from rice, azuki beans, wheat, sugar, salt, and various flavorings. We stopped by many Japanese sweets shops, and I sampled much good stuff. If I lived in an area with such good sweets I'd be fatter than I am!

So it's sad to see the economic depression and population decline in Suzu, but it's also heartwarming to meet such kind inhabitants who help each other out when needed.

奥多摩 Oku-tama

After returning to shore on Saturday, I was exceedingly restless due to having been bound to a small ship for a week. So despite sunday's endless rain, the day needed to be spent in the mountains. I solicited hiking buddies from the IAC hiking club, but none were forthcoming, likely due to the rain. So Sunday morning I went by myself to board a train for the two hour ride to Oku-Tama, a national park with tall (over 2000 m), steep mountains and narrow canyons that are heavily forested with Japanese cedars 杉. The Tama river 多摩川 is one of the rivers that run through Tokyo, and this region, its headwaters, is where much of Tokyo's water supply comes from, or so I've been told.

The 6am train was peopled mostly by older folks, retirees, who are the most active and outdoors-enjoying demographic in this country. The other demographic on the train were hoardes of middle-school-age girls on their way to some kind of athletic competition, judging by the matching track suits they were all wearing. Arriving at Oku-Tama, I checked my map and headed for the trailhead to 大岳山. I decided to take shelter from the rain at the trailhead pagoda to eat my breakfast, an egg salad sandwich that I bought at the convenience store by the station. Already under the roof was Kouhei-san, a Japanese guy a few years younger than me who was taking a smoke before starting his own hike. His wife isn't a big fan of hiking, and also due to the rain he was not able to muster his own buddies to join his hike. As our planned routes were similar, we decided to hike together.

We scrambled up mud, stone, and stairways, past a variety of shrines, to the top of 御前山, at an altitude of above 1400 m, along the way enjoying views of thick mist and constant rain. Since I am 雨男 ame-otoko (a Japanese word which means "rainy boy"), the cool moist weather energized me and felt great. The mountain slopes were mostly cedar, but some cypress, maples, and other broad leaf trees were scattered about. The predominance of cedar monoculture, the very close proximity of these mountains to metropolitan Tokyo, and the abundance of small roads winding all over the place, lead me to assume these slopes were (or are) subject to occasional logging.

At the summit, we rested, snacked, and dried our coats for a few minutes iside the 避難小屋 shelter constructed there. The abundance of these shelters on Japanese mountains is a wonderfully civilized aspect of hiking in this country! We hadn't met any other people on our hike thus far, as the rain drove away most casual dayhikers, but at the shelter we met about 20 elderly folks, again the toughest of demographics in this country. These folks grew up in a Japan that was just struggling to get back on its feet in the wake of the Second World War (known as the Pacific War here), and didn't have much in terms of material comforts, so grew up to be a generation of hardy individuals, in stark contrast to today's urban youth (in both Japan and the US), who tend to be either wusses or gangsters (or maybe I'm just getting old and crotchety).

Outside the shelter, Kouhei-san again took a smoke. Unlike American smokers, however, he was very polite about it. He always found a spot where his smoke would not blow my way. Furthermore, he littered the ground with niether his butts nor even his ashes! He carried a thick plastic case for both of these trash items (even his ashes!) and packed it out until he found a trash bin for them. I was astounded at this level of politeness and appropriate behaviour from a smoker, and have never seen such care taken by an American.

A few minutes in the shelter actually made us feel colder, so we decided to get moving again and descend the mountain. On the way down the canyon, we were granted brief breaks in the mist, and could see the steep mountains slopes in front of us. These looked as if they were taken directly from a Chinese landscape painting. The best word for describing the feeling invoked by these views is 神秘的 shinpiteki, mysterious with a religious bent.

After our long descent in the canyon, we returned to Oku-Tama town, and washed up in the local Onsen 温泉 hot spring (gender-separated, of course) . As always, bathing in a hot spring is very relaxing, especially after a long day of muddy exercise in cold weather! Here we met and talked with an older Japanese man who had just returned from 10 years living in San Jose and who missed the mountains of California, especially Yosemite, but who was just again beginning to appreciate the unique beauty of his own native Japan's great mountains. A few minutes in the hot spring made me too hot for comfort, and I fled to the cafeteria outside for some cookies & cream ice cream; ice cream is always perfect after bathing in a hot spring.

After Kouhei-san finished his bathing, we returned to the station, and boarded a train about 6pm for the sleepy 2-hour ride back to metropolitan Tokyo. I made a nice new friend out of the day's adventure, explored a new part of Japan to which I had previously not been, recovered from a week at sea without exercise, and prepared for a week of extremely hard work (since I'm terminating my fellowship at the end of February so as to return to my career in the USA, I have a lot that I need to accomplish at lab in the interim!). The mountains of this country are a very comfortable place for physical recovery and emotional renewal.

R/V なつしま

I spent this past week on the R/V Natsushima (Japanese for Summer Island) as a helper for my professor's research on the Kuroshio, the Gulf Stream of the Pacific. It's a big ship (65 m length) with a professional crew who for the most part did the heavy work, so the researchers like me just downloaded data and set up instruments for the most part. The weather during the week was generally calm, except for one day of moderate (a few meters) waves generated by a ridge of high pressure trailing off from a typhoon way to the south.

Since I'm a vegetarian and this is a Japanese ship, I thought I'd be eating nothing but rice and soy sauce sauce for the week, but the cooks on board were amazing, and made fabulous vegetarian food every meal specially for me and another veggie Brit who took part in the cruise. They even baked fresh bread for us every morning!

A few consistent differences stood out between this Japanese ship and the American research ships I've sailed on. Foremost is the character of the crew. American ships tend to have educated, polite officers but redneck, rough and tumble, ex-convict crewmembers. Contrarily, on this Japanese ship, everyone, both officers and crew, were curteous, helpful, and took pride in their work. This equality in character between officers and crew is pervasive in all of Japan, not just on ships. Society here is not as stratified as it is in the US. Here in Japan, folks tend to take pride in their work regardless of the type of job that they do, and fulltime workers are paid a decent wage regarless of the type of job they do. The huge income disparity that plagues the US is much narrower here. The resulting lack of crime and poverty is a boon to this society, and it's great to see people of all ranks taking pride in their work.

The other big difference between this Japanese ship and its American counterparts is the allowance of alcohol for folks who are off-duty. American ships are entirely dry, while the researchers on the Natsushima drank everytime their shifts were over. Even the officers and crew drank on special occasions. As soon as the ship left port a week and a half ago, the officers held a prayer session on the bridge, where they said a prayer for safety to the Shinto god of the sea or god of safe travels (I could not understand which, or maybe they are the same), to whom a small shrine was built in a cove on the ship's bridge. After the prayer, the attending officers and crew celebrated with small amounts of sake. At the end of the voyage, about the time we returned to port, the officers and crew held an end-of-cruise celebration in the mess hall, where they and the researchers all (except me, the only dry member of the cruise) consumed copious amounts of beer, sake, chuhai, umeshu, and other types of alcohol that I do not know. Regardless of this inebriation, maritime accidents in Japan are rare or nonexistant, and Japan's maritime safety record appears better than the safety record of American ships. Maybe this again is related to the pride and equality present among all levels of officers and crew, and the economic equality that pervades society in general.

First Snow on Ontakesan

Thanks to everyone for the photos!

This past weekend, Keiko and I organized a backpacking trip with friends from the Kansai and Tokyo outdoor clubs. From Kanto, Yves (Swiss, living in Yokohama) and Fuyuko (from Yamanashi) joined us, while Kansai folks included Yukari (from Kyoto), Yuri (from Kobe), and Carmel (Irish, living in Kobe). Richard (German), my friend from San Francisco, also joined us.


We climbed Ontakesan 御岳山, on the border of Nagano and Gifu prefectures. The eight of us met at Kisofukushima station 木曽福島駅, and took taxis to the top of the road on the east side of the mountain at Naka-no-yu 中の湯, altitude about 1800 m. This is knows as the mountain's fifth station 五号目. There we packed up our gear and headed up the steep trail through woods of bamboo grass 熊笹, cypress 檜, and fir モミの木. The maples 紅葉 were just starting to turn colorful for the autumn.

Upon reaching the mountains's sixth station 六号目 at 2100 m elevation, tall vegetation gave way to scrub and another scattered tree that was either white birch 白樺 or beech ブナ, which I don't know how to distinguish. Along with being the threshold of tall vegetation, the sixth station also marked the location where, up until the Meiji dynasty 明治時代 of the late 19th century, women were not allowed to climb above, as such was said to have made the mountain's diety angry. Only male pilgrims were allowed to climb higher, in order to pay homage to their patron spirit.

After lunching at the sixth station, we climbed higher up the mountain's flank in fair weather and blue skies, enjoying views of the Alps surrounding us. After an hour of hiking, however, at about 2:30pm, the weather turned, and we were caught in the mountain's 初雪, the first snow of the year. We were prepared with appropriate clothing and gear, so it was an enjoyable and beautiful, if cold, scene. Above about 2500 m altitude, scrub vegetation gave way to a barren landscape of bare rocks, most of which were of obviously volcanic origin, pumice with rough edges that had sometime in history been ejected forcefully from the caldera of the sleeping volcano that is Ontakesan. We pushed on through the snow and cold to an emergency shelter 避難小屋 on the summit ridge, at about 2800 m altitude, built beside a shrine to the mountain's dieties.


Being a bunch of cheap folks, we decided to spend the night in the emergency shelter, rather than spring the 5000 Yen each for the luxurious lodge that was half an hour walk from the shelter. The shelter really wasn't a bad structure, however; apart from a lack of heating, it was a lodge unto itself, though unstaffed. Using our camp stoves and the food and water we lugged up the mountain, we cooked a savory pasta dinner in the shelter, lined up like sardines on the wooden deck floor in our sleeping bags, and let pass a peaceful yet chilly night, with the wind howling outside at -15 degrees C, and even the inside of the structure dropping a few degrees below freezing despite the 15 or so folks inside to keep it warm. As usual, I was running a few degrees above everyone else, so enjoyed washing my face with snow, and "chilled out" outdoors for a while to admire the starry sky, where even the Milky Way 天の川 was starkly visible in the clear night sky after the snowstorm ended. I even saw a shooting star 流れ星 near the horizon.


The morning held a beautiful sunrise in chilly skies that were alternately clear and foggy.

By 7am, the fog had succumbed to the heat of the sun, the skies remained clear, and we were able to see our savior shelter, its patron Shinto priest, and the shrine's bell.


The ice coating all the structures and the rare scrub glistened in the morning sun.


Views of the mountain opened up. We could see some of the summit's crater lakes with a backdrop of the surrounding Alps. Even Mt. Fuji 富士山 was visible on the horizon. What a wonderfully clear and cool morning it was!


We scrambled on up to the 3067 m summit shrine by noon, refilled our water bottles, and lunched there with hot water supplied by the friendly staff of the summit lodge.



Then began our afternoon descent down to about 2000 m on the mountain's south ridge. In clear, warm weather, we descended through rocky volcanic wasteland, then scrub and white birch, then coniferous and bamboo grass forest to ToNoHara 田の原, a plateau with souvenier shops that also functions at the base of a ski area in wintertime. There we caught a bus to a local onsen 温泉, and then to a campsite, where the Kansai folks cooked up spicy mushroom pasta before another peaceful (and not so cold) night under the stars.

The next day we took an easy hike to Kiyotaki 清滝 and Shintaki 新滝, two waterfalls in forests on the moutnain's south flank. Both are religious (Shinto) areas, where pilgrims absolve themselves under the beating cold water of the falls.



Places where groundwater seeps to the surface as springs are regarded as holy here, and also have shrines built around them for those seeking purification.


Prayer bells about in the shrines around the waterfalls and all over Ontake-san. Their sounds reverbrate for a while after being struck. I tried to time just how long the sound was audible.

In the early afternoon, we all caught a bus back to Kisofukushima, where we lunched on hot udon at a cafeteria next to the station. Then all the lovely Kansai gals boarded their train to the west, leaving us lonely boys to wait for our eastbound train back to Tokyo.

Camping and trail run in Shiga

Camping out before the race in Northern Shiga.



View from the top.
Celebration afterwards!

Kawaguchi Lake 河口湖 cycling and canoeing

I spent another weekend with the IAC-Tokyo on one of the five lakes on the north side of Mt. Fuji. We stayed at the Wilderness Lodge, a small and reasonably priced 民宿 (hotel) that rents bicycles and canoes, that is tucked into the forest of cedar and cypress trees which carpets the mountainsides.
Yurie organized the group of 10 of us on a bicycling trip on Saturday. My rental mountain bike was too small for me, but that's to be expected. Since the ride was pretty easy, that was no problem; I just stood up on my pedals most of the time. We cycled along the lakeshore and through some mountain forests, eventually passing 西湖 Fuji Westlake and arriving at a traditional village that had been destroyed by a typhoon-induced landslide and flood about 45 years ago and then rebuilt. Before reconstruction, a dam was built in the steep valley above, to catch debris in the case of a landslide and to dissipate the energy of the swollen stream in case of a flood. Together with the dam, a channel was built through the center of the village so that flood waters wouldn't destroy the village again. Together, the dam and channel have protected the village from destruction since, and the village now serves as a museum of sorts, preserving the way of life of feudal times. This lab experiment, in the village museum, shows the destruction caused by the flood and landslide without the dam and channel:
and the protection offered by the constructed works:On the way back to the lodge, one of my companions, Mirin, suffered a nasty fall from his bicycle while rounding a sharp turn and descending a steep hill at high speed. The rest of the group was ahead, but I was the anchor, with Mirin directly in front of me. His fall was worthy of a Hollywood action movie, and I regret not having it on film so that he could see how well he performed the stunt! But sadly he broke his collarbone in the process. All I could do was give him my coat to use as a sling for his bad arm, while he phoned the group ahead of us. They had already returned to the lodge about 5km further on, and Bryce came back with his car to pick us up and then bring Mirin to the hospital, from whence his wife cared for him sweetly; lucky guy!

That night was a heavy rain, and the lodge staff cooked us grilled veggies and 焼きそば yakisoba (for me; the rest of the folks at meat of course). Mirin came back from the hospital dressed like a monk, with a white blanket over his white splint/sling/bandage over loose brown clothes. Another photo I regret not having taken!

The next day Mirin and his wife returned to Tokyo, to get treatment at a bigger hospital. The rest of us spent the day canoeing on the lake and enjoying the view of Mt. Fuji. We paddled to a small island in the middle of the lake, upon which was a forest and a hill, and on top of the hill was a shrine (part of the traditional Shinto religion). The island used to have camping facilities, with water, power, and small boat landings, but these were in disrepair and overgrown with at least 10 years of vegetation. The lodge staff told me the camping facilities were abandoned 15 years ago due to the inconvenience of getting to the island, so now only the shrine is left.
Along the saturday bicycle ride, there was one sign around to ensure us that we're in the land of funny English (though granted, in the US we have our fair share of funny Japanese and Chinese writing around too).
Can't read the sign? Look again.

My dorm in Tokyo

This is my dorm building at 東京海洋大学 Tokyo University of Marine Science and Technology. It's on an artificial island in Tokyo Bay, so everything in the area was built in the 60's and 70's.


My room makes me feel like I'm a freshman in college again, apart from the lack of roomate. It's a western style room, with bed and desk, in contrast to the Japanese style tatami room I stayed in back in my much older dorm in Kobe (which had been built in the 40's or 50's). The main advantage of my dorm here is the A/C unit, which has been very nice at the end of this hot Tokyo summer. I often use the space on the floor between the bed and the desk for pushups and situps after jogging around the island.

My kitchen is in a hallway that connects the entrance (you take shoes off at the step near the entrance) to the bedroom. Across the hallway from the kitchen are the bathroom and a storage closet. In all, the dorm is very modern. It lacks the charm of the traditional tatami room I stayed in back in Kobe, but it makes up for that through A/C. Ants and roaches, however, are as much of a problem here as they were in Kobe, leading me to sweep and wash my floor everyday.

Urban planning in Tokyo

This city is so advanced and civilized that it casts a dim light on us in the US. In addition to the excellent public transit that's been part of the culture here since the end of feudal times, Tokyo is building automated underground bicycle parking garages for its commuters.

My first hike in Tokyo: Takao-san guchi to Sagami Lake

I'm lost in this big city, but I had the chance to explore some mountains for the day, and since I didn't want to go hiking all by my lonesome, I was lucky enough to convince 9 nice folks from the local hiking club to come with me. The superb railway system here makes it so easy to get from place to place, even out in the countryside, that it's easy to get off at one station, hike over a mountain, and get back on a train from another station on the other side of the mountain. My companions and I did just that, starting at Takao-san guchi station, and ending up at Sagami Lake station.


The Takao side of the hike was extremely crowded, as it's popular for local hikers and runners from Tokyo, especially on a sunny day like yesterday, which was the first sunny day in a week. Tokyo was hot, but the weather on the mountain was relatively cool and pleasant, due both to the forests of cedar and cypress blanketing the mountain, and to the cool rivers running through the canyons cutting across it. The relatively easy climb to the top of Takao (about 600 m altitude) took about an hour and a half.

From there on we traversed the ridge to Shiro-yama, which means Castle Mountain. Despite the name, there was no castle on top, though maybe there had been one in feudal times? The top of Shiroyama now is dominated by NHK antennas and an outdoor restaurant. Descending from Shiryama to Sagami Lake took us through some very quiet and peaceful cedar forest. My group and I weren't quiet enough for the forest, however, leading one local hiker to complain that we were being too loud as we were walking along the trail.

The trail descended to the Sagami river, which it crossed via a very nice pedestrian bridge of suspension type (BenTen Bridge). It then ran through some rice fields and vegetable gardens before re-crossing the river at the Sagami Lake Dam. Just upstream of the dam, a large boil marked the lake surface, as this is the location of the lake's aeration system, where air is pumped into the bottom of the lake, to spur overturning of the lake water and to prevent stratification and depletion of the oxygen on the lake bottom.


After about 4 1/2 hours of walking from Takaosan guchi station, we reached Sagami Lake station, and returned to Tokyo.