Kashimayari

I keep saying that this or that mountain will be my last climb, and I keep managing to sneak another one in.:)

The early fall weather is making up for the lousy summer by offering up beautiful, cloud-free days with temperatures just cool enough to keep the haze from shrouding the mountains.  I was lucky enough to squeeze in a day climb up and down the Akaiwa course to Kashimayari the day after my school festival.

The tunnel through the dam.

Originally, I'd planned to spend an extra day on the ridge line, having brought back my backpacking gear from America especially for this trip. I'd toyed with the idea of summitting both Jiigatake and Kashimayari on the same day, or possibly continuing on to Goryu. However, A and my schedules didn't mesh, and he needed the car both Sunday and Monday.  Luckily, he was kind enough to drop me off at the ripe hour of 5:30 a.m. and pick me up so I was at least able to do the day trip.

Having met a bear on this course in July, I held my bear bell in my  hand and was shaking it like a percussionist at a Christmas concert.  I didn't meet anyone else on the forest road until I got to the official start of the trail at a large dam.  Coming back to this course, I was much better prepared for the steepness of the trail, which starts climbing basically straight up shortly after beginning.  Despite the steepness, there are a lot of ladders, offering a nice respite from boulders and tree roots.

Looking towards Kashimayari through fall foliage.

I had amazing views even from the base of the course of both Kashimayari and Jiigatake.  By the time I reached the first resting spot called Takachihodai, I was a half hour ahead of schedule even though I'd stopped numerous times to take pictures of the early fall foliage.  From here to the hut is a bit rocky, but really no more steep than what I'd been doing.  I passed one exhausted-looking older man who asked me if the trail was that steep the whole way.  I said yes, and he said he'd only climbed Kashimayari from the more popular route, which is apparently easier.  I never saw him at the summit or anywhere coming back down, so I hope he made it safely.

Views from the start of the ridge line.

When you reach the ridgeline, you almost walk right into the Tateyama range.  Suddenly, it's there staring you in the face, and you can turn in a full circle and start name-dropping peaks.  The Kita Alps, Tateyama and Tsurugi, Fuji-san, and once you reach the summit, Goryu and Shirouma.  I met the group of climbers I'd been alternately passing and being passed by, and they were just as giddy as I was.  I truly love the mountains, but I especially love the energy and enthusiasm of the others I meet along the way!

Up down up down 

Mentally refreshed, I jogged down the ridge line to the hut.  After refilling my water and using the loo, I continued along the ridge towards the south peak.  You can see the up and down required to get there from quite some distance, and the trek is just as bad as it looks.  Though not technically difficult (no ropes, ladders, chains, hooray!) you have to summit and descend one smaller peak before heading up the long slope to the top.  By the time I was about halfway up the last slope, I was following a man whose body language perfectly indicated my own feelings.  Walking hunched over with his arms alternately on his hips or folded across his body, he trudged up the switch backs one slow step at a time.  I went to my marathon place, focusing on taking each step, avoiding looking up to see how much further I had to go.  In these times, I just remind myself that if I keep moving, I will get there eventually.

Finally, there was no more up, and this time I walked right into a view of Goryu and Shirouma.  Turning in a full circle, I think my mouth really did drop open, as I could see almost every mountain I've ever heard of.

The summit with Tsurugi in the background.

Trying unsuccessfully to balance my camera on the pointy rocks, a nice man on his way to the descent offered to take my picture.  Asking me which mountain I preferred as my background, I happily told him Tsurugi.  After my disappointing climb up it earlier this summer, I consider this trek revenge for the beautiful views I didn't get from there!

Looking towards Goryu and Shirouma.

Including break times, I made it from the trail head to the summit in under 5 hours.  I allowed myself a half an hour to enjoy the top, playing with photo angles and taking a short video.  I could have stayed there all day.  Besides the fact my legs were crying out at the prospect of returning all the way back down, I was desperately curious what sunrise and sunset would look like from the hut's campground.

Sadly, I shrugged my pack back on and stopped for another 25 minutes at the hut for lunch and rest.   I was pretty much entirely alone on the return trip, but I think I pushed my legs too far, as about an hour in I tweaked my right knee.  Unable to bend it more than about a quarter of the way, I had to limp the rest of the two and half hours it took me to return to the dam.  This has to rank near the top of my most unpleasant physical experiences, as all the boulders, tree roots and rock faces that had to be negotiated required a lot more thought with only one good leg.  After about an hour of compensating for my right leg, my left quad was shaking uncontrollably.  Literally grabbing it with both of my hands, I continued down the trail, using my hands, back and even sliding on my bum for support.  Several times, I accidentally tried to use my right leg, and the shooting pain had me doubled over and near tears.

After what seemed like days, I finally made it back to the dam.  The light was waning, and being paranoid about bears, I opted not to rest.  I'm not sure if you've ever been injured before, but I have more often than I'd like.  Though it's definitely not a good thing, eventually, the injury sort of goes numb (or your brain does:) and you are able to push through to the finish.  This is what happened once I reached the dam, as the road was a fairly flat forest road with no more difficult bits to negotiate.  I headed down the road so fast I passed two other groups of people.

Legs shaking and sweat soaked clothes starting to cool, I sat down on the picnic table at the trail head and elevated my leg. It was 3:45 p.m., exactly 10 hours after I'd started.  I dug out my down coat, hat, and gloves and waited for A to arrive to take me home.