Hiking in Japan is a sub-culture on its own.Â
There are those little memories that almost every traveler can relate to: Warm Onigiri gone shapeless under the weight of the Earth in a waterproof backpack, sinking oneâs teeth into sweet, saggy Mochi for a quick energy bite, the phrase âæăă§ăă!â (Itâs hot, isnât it!) to be traded with every other member of the mountaineering group every twenty minutes, and sweaty at-the-summit success photos shot on four different devices (Smartphone, FujiMax Instax, Digital Camera and DSLR), preferably at sunrise or sunset, with the compulsory Japanese hashtag (#ăçČăæ§).
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Then, come the rituals.Â
For example, almost every hiker will narrate the incident of the kindly old grandmother who patiently waits for one to move out of her way as everyone hits the height of half a kilometer above sea level and the sun (or rain) takes out the brute force of its power on everyone below. This grandmother will inevitably offer a gentle greeting and perhaps a âé ćŒ”ăŁăŠăă ăăïŒâ (Give it your best!) as youâre doubled over on the trail, perspiring and wheezing and praying that youâll return to the starting point alive. At this stage of your journey, the words of encouragement coming from that ancient, smile-crinkled face feel more like a taunt and a reminder of your own incompetence. As you stare in speechless shock, sheâll give you one last cheery wave and stomp off in her professional climbing gear, daring Heaven and Hell to so much as try and get in her way. Every now and then this grandmother is a grandfather, and sometimes (horror of horrors) the superhuman cheering you on from above is a six-year-old child whoâs shorter than the hiking pole youâre hanging onto for dear life.Â
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When Kamakura begins to feel crowded and even Fushimi Inari becomes over-familiar, itâs a sign that an extended visitor to Japan is ready to break away from the mainstream, get lost and discover their own refuge from the overwhelming center of chaos that is Tokyo city.Â
We just recently found our own.
Located along the curve of the Boso Peninsula and barely two hours of train hopping from Tokyo, Nokogiriyama (literally âSaw-Tooth Mountainâ) in Chiba is a veritable secret even to many Tokyo residents and remains an unacknowledged and highly underrated transit spot between the real dimesnion and an ethereal world that seems to have been spared from destruction after a high-fantasy drama finished playing itself to an ending eternities ago. Renowned for having been a quarry in the Edo period, it is today a temple and hiking destination. Nokogiriyama (330 meters high and with a cable car service to save your dignity from the agile grandmothers, if you wish) is famous thanks to a cliffside viewpoint called Jigoku Nozoki (ć°çăźăăïŒor âHellâs Viewâ.
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Strangely though, surrounded by misty forests and drenched by the chilled rain, as one looks up and down into this strange abyss, the only thing one sees is Heaven.  After the exhilaration goes down a bit, itâs usually a good idea (if youâre daring enough!) to clamber down to the edge and hang over the thankfully firm railing to admire the dizziness-inducing drop below that vanishes into leafy darkneess, before you politely ask a fellow tourist to snap your photo.
Quickly retracing oneâs steps to the entrance point and diverting the route a little reveals the next wonder: The 100-Shaku Kannon carved stone Kannon image. Â
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Depicted as both male and female across temples in Japan, China and India, Kannon is the Japanese Buddhist deity of Salvation and visitors are free to sit down to rest a while in the shade she offers, as well as offer a prayer for safety and a 5-yen coin, should they wish to do so. After the obligatory photos here as well, a hike through the interiors of the mountain that hosts the Buddhist Nihonji Temple brings our explorer to the next breathtaking wonder of the day: A 31.05 meter tall Daibustu statue carved out from the face of the stone cliff itself.
From here on, the forest swallows the hikers once more and slashed and twisted inner pathways of stone wind around in rising and falling loops, pulling one on an unforgettable trip through this solemn, mystical universe. The trees rustle, a blue lizard slashes through the path, a bird coos and an unseen waterfall trickles away, but other than that, there is nothing but the traveler, the serenity, nature and silence.Â
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If lucky, youâll stumble across smaller temples and shrines on the premises, as well as statues of Arhat (Buddhist devotees who have attained salvation), who welcome you with their smiles.Â
Surprisingly, going to Hell is a lot harder than one would anticipate. There are primarily two options to get to Nokogiriyama: cutting through Yokohama and getting on a ferry at Kurihama to cross over and reach the peninsula is an 86 km route. However, to play it safe during typhoon season and have the train compartment all to oneâs self, itâs better to opt for the longer, 122 km JR train route that rings around the coast to reach Hama-Kanaya, a sleepy and sunbathing seaside town where fishermen smile at your gear and the gulls caw overhead. From there, one can hike up to the Jigoku Nozomi view point, or stroll into the nearby lodge and wait for the next cable car to whizz tourists up. Take care to prepare your timings and supplies, as the trains usually only run once an hour and the temple closes by late afternoon. Restaurants are scarce and vending machines are overpriced. The round trip approximately costs about 4,000 Yen.Â
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The journey back is an ideal time for some quiet reflection before all of humanity floods in at Chiba Station. Before you know it, youâre swiping your card at the station exit, returning to the glitzy, stimuli overload of Tokyo. College is sure to be a little difficult the next week as youâll experience something akin to withdrawal symptoms and realize a sudden love for online Nature aesthetic moodboards and Romantic era poetry. Finally, you know youâre well and surely trapped as you google âTokyo Day Tripsâ and read countless reviews of hiking spots to plan out the next (mis)adventure but in reality, youâve just found your own way to freedom.
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So at last, before countless seemingly immortal grandmothers and the other wonderful characters youâre sure to meet, let us be the first of many to wish you the very best for your future hiking adventures. Â Â Â Â
é ćŒ”ăŁăŠăă ăă!