Day 71: The surprising road into Hakone
Last night I slept poorly, the sort of sleep that has you feeling like you laid there awake all night, even though I know that wasn't truly the case. Perhaps it was the new and unfamiliar sleeping arrangements that kept me from a deep sleep, or perhaps it was a lingering concern about my hike today.
When I booked my room, it was chosen out of financial responsibility rather than convenience or good location, as Saturday nights are stupid hard to book for.
I ended up in a stylish Ryokan a few kilometers inland from the Yugawara coastline, snuggly set up a steep side street.
When I made the booking I was entirely focused on the price, and didn't pay much attention to the amenities. Upon checking in I was happily surprised to discover that my stay included a breakfast. So after a soak in the onsen I tucked in early for my 8am breakfast appointment (you have to pick a time, you can't just roll up whenever you'd like).
Breakfast was a traditional Japanese style affair, with a fish, rice and miso soup, along with a generous selection of other tasty treats. This was an excellent way to start the morning, and got me up and going at the perfect time.
The previous night was chill, but by the time I was up and out the door the sun had enough time to help bring things up to perfect hiking temperatures, with hardly a cloud in the sky to boot.
I stopped in briefly at a convenience store to grab a sandwich for my lunch break, and headed towards the hills.
Yesterday I had poked around in the hills above Atami, and it gave me a reality check. The masochistically steep roads quickly set my legs and lungs on fire. Lugging my ample frame and heavy pack up these back streets was not enjoyable work. I made it about 250m up the hill, which clocks in at ~825m, before I turned back. It did not bode well for making it up the whole thing the following day.
Knowing how intense the climb was yesterday, I was quietly dreading the walk today. With a persistently bad right knee and now a questionable left hip, how bad was it going to be to get to the top?
Heading up the hill I happily enjoyed the initial ascent, with road gradings keeping a comfortable angle. I enjoyed the view and watching the city start to slip away down the hill as each switchback presented a view of it slightly further down behind me.
Unlike many hikes before this, I didn't need to check my GPS to stay on route, as there were only two roads up the hill. The choice had to be made very early, and I followed the one that presented the shortest distance and had longer straights between corners and switchbacks.
I had expected to be panting and out of breath constantly, stopping routinely to suck back air and let my legs rest. However I struck by how this wasv much not the case. I had only taken a few breaks, and even those were less than a minute, just long enough to calm my breathing and snap a photo of the great road I had to walk.
Without the need to look at my GPS routinely for guidance, when I did eventually look at it I was pleasantly surprised to find that I was nearly at the top of the ascent, with maybe only a kilometer left to the top, and 600 of the 700 meter ascent already behind me.
This gave me a boost, improving my mood and my pace. I was making great time already, and my legs and lungs were actually responding well. I was all smiles! That is until a yellow pickup truck came racing down the hill, hogging the shoulder and on a path to hit me.
I have come to appreciate how courteous and respectful Japanese drivers have been, taking great effort to give me space when I have been walking on the roads of this country. Even here, this mountain road was generously proportioned, with a comfortable shoulder, and the drivers would always do their best to give me lots of room. Some even drive partially in the oncoming lane, when there is no oncoming traffic, just to ensure I'm safe. Compared to the harrowing mountain road I took into Shizuoka, this route felt entirely comfortable and safe.
But here was this pickup truck. Passenger-side wheels on the shoulder leaving me almost nowhere to go. But as quickly as the truck appeared and raced towards me, it came to a halt a a few meters in front of me, blocking my way.
From inside an older Japanese man wearing a yellow vest jumped out of the drivers seat and began shouting at me.
I have been in Japan for a few months now, and this is the first time I've been on the wrong side of anyone. Everyone I have encountered has been polite and courteous and generally avoiding any sort of conflict. Yet here was this man, and he had no compunctions about being a very loud and aggressive .
He stepped around to the front of the vehicle, face stern and eyes locked on mine, yelling in English this time "NO! NO WALK!!" and crossing his arms in an X form, which I've come to know as Japanese for "no" as well.
I was caught completely off guard, both by his extremely aggressive manner and the content of his message. I was unaware this road was closed pedestrians. I had seen no signs, nor ever experienced this on any other road, no matter how sketchy.
His arms uncrossed, but his face remained stern, and he pointed decisively back in the direction I had just come from. I didn't see any other options but to turn around and head back down, and turned to go. Pausing and turning back I asked, rather exasperatedly "How do I get to Hakone then?!" but his stern demeanor remained unchanged, and he re-thrust his finger down the hill to shoo me away.
Turning back downhill again a lot of thoughts raced through my mind, but before I could ponder any of them, he said something back to me, his tone now softened. It was all in Japanese, but I could hear that his statement was a question that ended in "... Hakone?".
I turned back to him and said that I was going to Hakone. Without another word he gestured to his truck with a motion that simply said "Ok, get in". I jogged back up to his truck, tossed my pack in the back bed and climbed in the passengers side.
The next few minutes were silent, save for the occasionally crackle of static coming from the CB radio in the cab. He made no effort to engage in conversation, nor did I.
I watched as that last kilometre passed by quickly, with fantastic views at each bend. The road narrowed somewhat as we approached the top, but nothing that seemed dangerous to continue walking on. At least not to my eyes. But I was now in that truck and it wasn't clear exactly how far he was taking me.
Moments later we rolled towards a tollbooth, with a line of cars slowly moving through. He pulled up alongside the line rather than taking a place at the end, and soon parked at a barricade at the front of the line.
With a word and motion it was clear the ride was over. He hopped out of the drivers seat and walked away from the truck, no longer concerned about me, and strode directly into the tollbooth and began collecting tolls, taking over from another man.
I went about collecting my gear and getting myself set to go again. With my pack situated comfortably, I moved to continue my journey. From inside the booth the man looked at me and nodded, and in return I thanked him for letting me pass and keeping me safe.
I checked my GPS, got my bearing and set out down the road away from the tollbooth, only to be stopped by new sight that was both surprising and fitting at the same time: 'Bikers Paradise'
Before being aggressively assisted up the hill, it has not gone unnoticed how many motorcycles were on the road. Sure, there was the occasionally truck or sporty car enjoying the scenic and curvy road. But this was clearly the domain those traveling on two wheels.
Yamahas, Suzukis, Kawasakis, Harley Davidsons and Ducatis alike passed by, up and down this mountain road. Sometimes solo, sometimes in groups of 6 or more. Countless bikers had passed me, and so to see at the top of this a placed named 'Bikers Paradise' make me grin. It made total sense given the traffic, but was surprising in its remoteness.
I continued on my way along a generous, albeit overgrown sidewalk to guide me for the next part of my way into Hakone. As I followed my path northward, the hills eventually gave way to fantastics views of Fuji to the northwest.
After some twists and turns, and walking down busy roads with no shoulder that were legitimately concerning, and wishing angry tollbooth guy was there to drive me, I eventually reach Lake Ashi and Hakone.
Eventually, after a short ice cream break at the 7-11, I headed up the hill to find my guest house and set down my pack for the night.
With legs sore, and a vicious foot cramp I finally arrived just before dark. The owner kindly checked me in, and was shocked to learn I had walked all the way from Yugawara in a single day. He showed me around the place, and finally to my very fittingly named room.
Tomorrow I will relax and walk around town a little bit, see what there is to see, and make plans for the following day; my birthday. I haven't decided what exactly I will do, but the park has plenty of excellent hiking possibilities, and I am feeling far more confident about my legs and ability to hike having made it up and into here far easier than I had expected.
But for now, a long hot shower and an evening relaxing in my yukata are in order!
When I booked my room, it was chosen out of financial responsibility rather than convenience or good location, as Saturday nights are stupid hard to book for.
I ended up in a stylish Ryokan a few kilometers inland from the Yugawara coastline, snuggly set up a steep side street.
When I made the booking I was entirely focused on the price, and didn't pay much attention to the amenities. Upon checking in I was happily surprised to discover that my stay included a breakfast. So after a soak in the onsen I tucked in early for my 8am breakfast appointment (you have to pick a time, you can't just roll up whenever you'd like).
Breakfast was a traditional Japanese style affair, with a fish, rice and miso soup, along with a generous selection of other tasty treats. This was an excellent way to start the morning, and got me up and going at the perfect time.
The previous night was chill, but by the time I was up and out the door the sun had enough time to help bring things up to perfect hiking temperatures, with hardly a cloud in the sky to boot.
I stopped in briefly at a convenience store to grab a sandwich for my lunch break, and headed towards the hills.
Yesterday I had poked around in the hills above Atami, and it gave me a reality check. The masochistically steep roads quickly set my legs and lungs on fire. Lugging my ample frame and heavy pack up these back streets was not enjoyable work. I made it about 250m up the hill, which clocks in at ~825m, before I turned back. It did not bode well for making it up the whole thing the following day.
Knowing how intense the climb was yesterday, I was quietly dreading the walk today. With a persistently bad right knee and now a questionable left hip, how bad was it going to be to get to the top?
Heading up the hill I happily enjoyed the initial ascent, with road gradings keeping a comfortable angle. I enjoyed the view and watching the city start to slip away down the hill as each switchback presented a view of it slightly further down behind me.
Yugawara all but gone from view.
Unlike many hikes before this, I didn't need to check my GPS to stay on route, as there were only two roads up the hill. The choice had to be made very early, and I followed the one that presented the shortest distance and had longer straights between corners and switchbacks.
I had expected to be panting and out of breath constantly, stopping routinely to suck back air and let my legs rest. However I struck by how this wasv much not the case. I had only taken a few breaks, and even those were less than a minute, just long enough to calm my breathing and snap a photo of the great road I had to walk.
Without the need to look at my GPS routinely for guidance, when I did eventually look at it I was pleasantly surprised to find that I was nearly at the top of the ascent, with maybe only a kilometer left to the top, and 600 of the 700 meter ascent already behind me.
This gave me a boost, improving my mood and my pace. I was making great time already, and my legs and lungs were actually responding well. I was all smiles! That is until a yellow pickup truck came racing down the hill, hogging the shoulder and on a path to hit me.
I have come to appreciate how courteous and respectful Japanese drivers have been, taking great effort to give me space when I have been walking on the roads of this country. Even here, this mountain road was generously proportioned, with a comfortable shoulder, and the drivers would always do their best to give me lots of room. Some even drive partially in the oncoming lane, when there is no oncoming traffic, just to ensure I'm safe. Compared to the harrowing mountain road I took into Shizuoka, this route felt entirely comfortable and safe.
But here was this pickup truck. Passenger-side wheels on the shoulder leaving me almost nowhere to go. But as quickly as the truck appeared and raced towards me, it came to a halt a a few meters in front of me, blocking my way.
From inside an older Japanese man wearing a yellow vest jumped out of the drivers seat and began shouting at me.
I have been in Japan for a few months now, and this is the first time I've been on the wrong side of anyone. Everyone I have encountered has been polite and courteous and generally avoiding any sort of conflict. Yet here was this man, and he had no compunctions about being a very loud and aggressive .
He stepped around to the front of the vehicle, face stern and eyes locked on mine, yelling in English this time "NO! NO WALK!!" and crossing his arms in an X form, which I've come to know as Japanese for "no" as well.
I was caught completely off guard, both by his extremely aggressive manner and the content of his message. I was unaware this road was closed pedestrians. I had seen no signs, nor ever experienced this on any other road, no matter how sketchy.
His arms uncrossed, but his face remained stern, and he pointed decisively back in the direction I had just come from. I didn't see any other options but to turn around and head back down, and turned to go. Pausing and turning back I asked, rather exasperatedly "How do I get to Hakone then?!" but his stern demeanor remained unchanged, and he re-thrust his finger down the hill to shoo me away.
Turning back downhill again a lot of thoughts raced through my mind, but before I could ponder any of them, he said something back to me, his tone now softened. It was all in Japanese, but I could hear that his statement was a question that ended in "... Hakone?".
I turned back to him and said that I was going to Hakone. Without another word he gestured to his truck with a motion that simply said "Ok, get in". I jogged back up to his truck, tossed my pack in the back bed and climbed in the passengers side.
The next few minutes were silent, save for the occasionally crackle of static coming from the CB radio in the cab. He made no effort to engage in conversation, nor did I.
I watched as that last kilometre passed by quickly, with fantastic views at each bend. The road narrowed somewhat as we approached the top, but nothing that seemed dangerous to continue walking on. At least not to my eyes. But I was now in that truck and it wasn't clear exactly how far he was taking me.
Moments later we rolled towards a tollbooth, with a line of cars slowly moving through. He pulled up alongside the line rather than taking a place at the end, and soon parked at a barricade at the front of the line.
With a word and motion it was clear the ride was over. He hopped out of the drivers seat and walked away from the truck, no longer concerned about me, and strode directly into the tollbooth and began collecting tolls, taking over from another man.
I went about collecting my gear and getting myself set to go again. With my pack situated comfortably, I moved to continue my journey. From inside the booth the man looked at me and nodded, and in return I thanked him for letting me pass and keeping me safe.
I checked my GPS, got my bearing and set out down the road away from the tollbooth, only to be stopped by new sight that was both surprising and fitting at the same time: 'Bikers Paradise'
Before being aggressively assisted up the hill, it has not gone unnoticed how many motorcycles were on the road. Sure, there was the occasionally truck or sporty car enjoying the scenic and curvy road. But this was clearly the domain those traveling on two wheels.
Yamahas, Suzukis, Kawasakis, Harley Davidsons and Ducatis alike passed by, up and down this mountain road. Sometimes solo, sometimes in groups of 6 or more. Countless bikers had passed me, and so to see at the top of this a placed named 'Bikers Paradise' make me grin. It made total sense given the traffic, but was surprising in its remoteness.
I continued on my way along a generous, albeit overgrown sidewalk to guide me for the next part of my way into Hakone. As I followed my path northward, the hills eventually gave way to fantastics views of Fuji to the northwest.
After some twists and turns, and walking down busy roads with no shoulder that were legitimately concerning, and wishing angry tollbooth guy was there to drive me, I eventually reach Lake Ashi and Hakone.
Eventually, after a short ice cream break at the 7-11, I headed up the hill to find my guest house and set down my pack for the night.
With legs sore, and a vicious foot cramp I finally arrived just before dark. The owner kindly checked me in, and was shocked to learn I had walked all the way from Yugawara in a single day. He showed me around the place, and finally to my very fittingly named room.
Tomorrow I will relax and walk around town a little bit, see what there is to see, and make plans for the following day; my birthday. I haven't decided what exactly I will do, but the park has plenty of excellent hiking possibilities, and I am feeling far more confident about my legs and ability to hike having made it up and into here far easier than I had expected.
But for now, a long hot shower and an evening relaxing in my yukata are in order!
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