Mt Futatsu (376m), Mt Ganko (325m) & Mineoka Uma-no-se (306m), Kamogawa City, Chiba Prefecture, Sunday, February 1, 2026

I felt it was time for another hike in Minamiboso since it had been two years since my last visit. Looking at my mountains of Chiba guidebook, I decided to combine 3 peaks in the Mineoka mountains. This mountainous range south of the Kamo river includes Mt Atago (408m), the highest point of the Boso peninsula; however, it can only be visited by applying in advance since it’s also the location of a Japan self-defence force base (currently not accepting any applications). Instead, I’d head up the 4th highest peak of the Boso Peninsula, a short distance away, and then go up another, lower peak nearby. I’d then make my way along country lanes to one last mountain. All 3 peaks supposedly had wide views from their summits.

Hiking on the Boso Peninsula 房総半島

Hiking in the Mineoka Mountains 嶺岡山地

To get to the start of the hike, after riding the Sasanami limited express from Tokyo, I’d had hoped to take the bus from Hota station, but it was no longer in service. Instead I decided to use the “on-demand” bus from Iwai Station, less convenient since it required me to call in advance. According to my map, a trail started near the last stop; looking at online reports, it seemed to be a forestry service path rather than a proper trail, so I opted to use a nearby road that also led to the trail entrance. For the return, I’d catch a bus for Awa-kamogawa station, and then ride the Wakashio limited express back to Tokyo. The weather was supposed to be sunny with mild temperatures for the season and I was looking forward to exploring a new corner of the Boso peninsula.

The road between Yamadanaka and Mt Futatsu is closed to traffic due to a landslide. Caution is required when crossing the collapsed section on foot.

Path for Umanose (left) Top of Umanose (right)

Passing under (left) and around trees (right)

It was another beautiful winter morning as I rode the Sasanami limited express, first through the Chiba countryside and then along Tokyo Bay. During the ride, I left a message on the Minamiboso city answering machine saying I’d like to ride the morning bus to the last stop. Shortly before 10am, I boarded the microbus waiting outside Iwai station after confirming my reservation with the driver. Nearly all passengers got off at the trail entrance for Mt Iyo, the end of the regular bus route; just one passenger got off with me at Yamadanaka (山田中), half an hour later, last visited when I climbed Mt Goten.

Overgrown Road leading to Futatsuyama

Blue Skies on the Higher Section of the Road

The surroundings were completely silent compared to my previous visit in the Spring. I continued along the road, and at a sharp bend, turned left onto a smaller road leading up into the hills. Past some early plum blossoms, I came upon a sign indicating that the road was closed to traffic due to a landslide. After confirming with a local that it was “sort of” passable on foot, I set off, relieved that I could stick to my plan, and that no cars would disturb the peace and quiet. One drawback of a closed road is that the vegetation is left to run wild, forcing me to pass over and under several fallen bamboo stalks; for some reason they were dying out, an army of white stalks creating a ghostly atmosphere. A little after 11am, I arrived at the collapsed part of the road.

Mineoka Mountains and Tokyo Bay from Mt Futatsu

View of the Mountains of Boso from Mt Ganko

The damage was more extensive than expected; I had to walk on the mountainside to get around, treading carefully over the soft, overturned dirt. A little further on, several fallen cedars blocked the road, and it took some more minutes to get past. I had fallen behind schedule so I stepped up the pace and soon reached a junction where I turned right. I was now walking on a level road, 360m high and probably the highest road in Boso, although thick vegetation hid the views. A little past noon, a charming handmade sign marked the entrance to a trail on the left, and it took only several minutes of easy climbing to reach the top of Mt Futatsu (二ツ山 ふたつやま futatsu-yama) with a wide view to the west.

Walking along the Base of the Mineoka Mountains

Heading up Umanose

I was thrilled to have found another summit with a view on the Boso peninsula. From left to right, I could see Mt Tomi, Mt Iyo, Mt Nokogiri, Mt Saga, Mt Tsumori, Mother Farm and Mt Kamo. Beyond, I could see the blue waters of Tokyo Bay. I had been hoping to see Mt Fuji, I had seen it from Iwai station, but by now Japan’s most famous mountain had withdrawn behind the clouds. The summit was in shade and a cold wind was blowing so I soon moved on, following a steep trail down the north side. I soon reached a junction for the lower north peak (“Futatsu” means two) but decided to skip it since it was in the trees. At 1230, I emerged onto a road where I turned right, but soon turned left onto a trail for today’s second peak.

Sunlit Filtering through the Cedars

View North of the Boso Mountains from Umanose

I was surprised by the steepness of the trail, including a short rocky section fitted with a rope for safety, reminiscent of higher elevation hikes. I soon arrived at the top of Mt Ganko (頑固山 がんこやま ganko-yama meaning “stubborn”; also written 岩光山 meaning “shining rock”). I put down my pack and carefully walked a few minutes along a rocky spur ending at a viewpoint, fairly similar to the previous one but from a lower vantage point. Turning around, I could see the rounded, tree-covered top of Mt Futatsu. Mt Fuji was still hidden from view but since I was now in the sun, I settled down for a lunch break. At 1pm, I made my way back to the road where I turned left. I was now following signposts for the “Satoyama Walking Hosono Motona Route” (里山ウォークキング細野・元名コース), taking me through fields and past thatch roof farmhouses.

Ridge Trail between Umanose and Atago Shrine

View of Kamogawa from the Mineoka Mountains

It was wonderful to be walking through the Satoyama scenery, a term that refers to the coexistence of nature and farmland. To the right, I could see the undulating ridgeline of today’s third and last mountain. I soon reached a junction where I turned right, but continued straight at a bend, passing left of a white shed and onto a hard to notice footpath, my phone GPS filling in for a missing sign. The path took me past a “mikan” orchard and into a forest of tall, vine-wrapped cedars, rays of sunlight lighting up the ferns on the forest floor. The forest was quite wild, and once again I was walking over, under and around fallen trees. After making my way up a steep, but thankfully short, switchback trail, I arrived at the base of some stone steps, at the top of which was a sign for Mineoka Uma-no-se (嶺岡馬の背 みねおかうまのせ meaning the horse’s back) past a rocky outcrop was a view of a wide valley ringed by low mountains.

View of Kamogawa from above Atago Shrine

Walking through Countryside at the End of the Hike

It seemed appropriate to climb a mountain with “horse” in its name in the year of the horse. Directly below, I could see the famous terraced rice fields of Oyama Senmaida (大山千枚田). After a short break, I followed the ridge trail eastwards through beautiful mixed forest. At 2h30, I reached another viewpoint on the north side from where I could see Kamogawa City and even the Pacific ocean. The path then descended steeply and in no time I arrived at Atago shrine (愛宕神社). I walked for another thirty minutes to the base of the valley, past empty rice fields resting till the spring planting. After arriving at a main road, I dropped by the nearby Kameda Brewery Store for some local sake tasting, then hopped on the bus for Awa-Kamogawa Station, my first time to take a train from there, and then boarded the Wakashio limited express for the 2 hour ride back to Tokyo.

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Miura Reef Route, Miura City, Kanagawa Prefecture, Saturday, January 24th, 2026

I’d visited Jogashima island at the southern end of the Miura peninsula in 2013, and hiked Mt Hodai and Mt Fuji-Miura, its southernmost peaks, in 2015. I had known for a while that the Kanagawa Kanto Fureai no Michi followed its southern coastline from east to west, and after my recent walk on the Boso Peninsula coast, I was in the mood for another seashore hike. Along the way, I’d pass by a famous lighthouse, a couple of bays and several fishing ports; finally, I could expect some good views of the Boso peninsula. This was another popular summer spot which I hoped would be free of people in the middle of winter.

Hiking on the Miura Peninsula 三浦半島

Hiking the Kanto Fureai no Michi 関東ふれあいの道

To get to the start of the hike, I’d ride the Shonan-Shinjuku line to Yokohama, and there, change to the limited express on the Keikyu Kurihama line. I’d get off at Miura-Kaigan station, one stop before the end of the line, and then ride a bus to the start of the Fureai no Michi. For the return, I’d catch a bus for Misakiguchi Station, and then ride the limited express again back to Yokohama. The weather was supposed to be sunny all day, although quite cold and windy. I hoped the conditions would be tolerable and was looking forward to an interesting outing along the Miura Peninsula coastline.

This hike can only be done at low tide since some sections are under water at high tide. Make sure to check the tide times beforehand.

Start of the Reef Route (left) Tsurugisaki Lighthouse (right)

Reef Path (left) Metal Bridge (right)

It was another blue sky day as I rode the Shonan-Shinjuku line to Yokohama. Although there is no extra fee for the Keikyu limited express trains, not all have forward-facing seats, and I ended up having to stand for most of the trip. Fortunately, the spectacular views of Tokyo Bay made time go by faster. At Miura-Kaigan Station, I boarded a bus for the last leg of the trip and was glad to get a seat for a short while. Shortly before noon I got off at a stop on a windswept plateau surrounded by green fields with a view of the Boso peninsula across Tokyo Bay.

View of the Boso Peninsula from Oura Beach

Fureai no Michi Marker on the Reef

It was my first time to see the peaks of the Boso Peninsula so clearly. From left to right I could see Mt Kano, Mt Nokogiri and Mt Tomi, all directly on the sea; further inland, I could make out the summits of Mt Atago, Mt Iyo, Mt Goten and Mt Dainichi. A cold wind started blowing so I quickly headed downhill towards the coast, following the wooden signs of the Fureai no Michi. At a bend in the road I noticed some “suisen” (daffodil) and yellow “katabami” (woodsorrel) in full bloom. Near the base of a slope, I make a short detour to Oura Beach (大浦海水浴場) where I got another view of the Boso Peninsula. I then retraced my steps and soon arrived at Maguchi Port (間口漁港), the first fishing port of the day.

Mt Nokogiri (left) and double-peaked Mt Tomi (right)

Lunch spot between Misaki Cap and Ena Bay

I was surprised how quiet and peaceful the port was on this cold winter day, most boats moored to the quay or even out of water. I saw no one as I made my way round the circular quay, no waves disturbing the dark blue water. At 1pm, I reached the end of the concrete platform and passed through a gap in a wall with tetrapods, wave breaker blocks, on the other side. I suddenly found myself walking on a rocky shore directly on the coast. The transition from walking on flat concrete to balancing on smooth rocktops was quite abrupt and I proceeded slowly to give myself time to adjust to the change.

Sea Waves Crashing into the Reef

Reflected Sunlight on Calmer Waters

The sea, so calm moments before, now turned noisy as waves crashed onto the reef, encouraged by the strong winter wind. I wondered how quickly I’d be able to move among the rocks but I soon spotted a well-defined sandy path near the cliff base; it led to a small beach in the shade of a bluff on the south side. Here stood a wooden signpost for the Fureai no Michi in excellent condition, reassuring me that I’d easily be able to follow the Reef Route (岩礁のみち “gansho no michi“). After observing wavelets gently wash up through rocky inlets, I headed up a road on the right side, temporarily leaving the coastline behind.

Looking back towards the Boso Peninsula

Looking ahead towards Jogashima Island on the left side

I soon arrived at a white tower at the top of the bluff, one of today’s highlights, the Tsurugisaki Cape Lighthouse (剱埼灯台), built more than 150 years ago and featured in a number of dramas. From this higher vantage point I could now see the entire length of the Boso peninsula, all the way to the hilly Minami-boso area. Huge tankers passed slowly through the choppy waters of Tokyo Bay and into the Pacific ocean. Gusts of wind cut my gazing short and I quickly made my way back to the reef. The path headed back onto the rocks and along a narrow ledge protruding from the cliff face, allowing to get past a rocky inlet still free of water. As I rounded Tsurugisaki Cape, a hidden bay opened up in front of me.

Second Break Spot between Ena and Bishamon Bays

Green Algae near Kochizaki Cape

I realised how deceptive distances could be, the far side of the bay now seeming a long way away. I cautiously picked my way through the reef, steering clear of the most slippery rocks. The bay was enclosed by pale yellow cliffs providing few escape routes. It was past low tide, and although hide tide was several hours away, the crashing of windblown waves against the surrounding reef made me nervous. I was reassured by the continued presence of the Fureai no Michi signposts, but they now included warnings to take a detour route in case of high waters, as well a warning of falling rocks.

Green-blue Waters Free of Waves

Tricky Passage on the left side near the End of the Hike

For once, I was relieved to see people along the route, although relatively few in this season. At 2pm, I settled on a whitened log for a lunch break with a view of the cliffs. A sandy section sped me up, and I soon rounded the southern side of the small bay, the outline of Jogashima Island visible in the far distance. Shortly after, I climbed onto the concrete dock of Matsuwa fishing port (松輪漁港) on Ena Bay (江奈湾). From this point, I followed the road as it curved around the bay and then headed up inland. At the highest point, with a view of farmland on the north side, I turned left, heading back to the shore where I resumed walking along the narrow reef between sea and cliffs. I took a second break at another washed up log just before Kochizaki Cape (東風崎), this time facing the wide open sea. The waters were calmer here, the rocks covered in green algae.

Narrow section of the Reef Route

Tidal Waters from the High Tide

This section required some pathfinding in addition to surefootedness to navigate around the deep, twisting water inlets, some already filling up with seawater. Several metal bridges, as well as a series of raised stepping stones, helped me leapfrog over the trickier bits but I could imagine getting trapped by the rising water. A little after 2h30, I reached Bishamon Bay and Fishing port (毘沙門湾・毘沙門漁港), a short section of more relaxed walking before I returned to the reef. The sun was now low on the horizon and I alternated between shaded and sunlight sections. I turned around occasionally to admire the cliffs, golden yellow in the late afternoon sun. Before each bend, I could hear breaking waves and see white foam, further passage seemingly impossible, but gradually a safe passage comes into view, the fierce waves firmly held in check by the reef.

The Route Passes along the Base of the Cliff

Gold-Coloured Cliffs in the Late Afternoon Light

Here and there, short concrete walkways appeared, making it easier to cross wide sections of reef. Around 4pm, I passed Nusuttogari (盗人狩 meaning “hunted thief”) where according to legend a fleeing thief was trapped by the steep cliffs and raging waters. I could easily relate to feeling trapped and quickly escaped from the spot. After passing a dark cave, I slipped through a passage to the left of a rocky cape and entered Miyagawa Port (宮川港), the end of the Miura Reef Route, around 4h30. I headed up a sloping road, leaving the reef behind, and after a 20-minute walk though Miyagawa town, reached a bus stop from where it was a short ride to Misakiguchi station. This time I was lucky to get the more comfortable forward-facing seats on the return trip to Yokohama.

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Mt Yakunimi (319m), Hadano City & Oi Town, Kanagawa Prefecture, Saturday, January 17, 2026

I’d hiked most of the Soga Hills in January 2018 from Kamioi to Kozu station. Recently I found out about the Fujimizuka Hiking Trail on the Kanagawa Prefecture website. This hike, mainly along country lanes, connects Kamioi with Matsuda station and completes the traverse of the hills. Rather than redo the first part, identical to my 2018 hike, I decided to start from Shibusawa station instead. Looking at my map, I saw I could follow hiking trails and back roads past a mountain with a view of Mt Fuji; a short walk along a prefectural road would then connect me with the main trail. Another view of Fuji awaited me at Fujimizuka near the end of the hike.

Hiking in the Soga Hills 曽我丘陵

To get to the start of the hike, I’d ride the Odakyu “Fujisan Express” from Shinjuku to Hadano station, and then transfer to the local Odakyu line for the one stop ride to Shibusawa. There, I would catch a local bus and get off at the base of the Shibusawa Hills, a short distance from the trail entrance. The afternoon would be enough for this short hike allowing me to take the mid-morning train. For the return, I’d catch the “Fujisan express” again, but this time from Matsuda station. The weather was supposed to be sunny all day, important for getting a good view of Fuji, the temperatures unseasonably warm. I was looking forward to a relaxing hike through the woods and countryside of Kanagawa.

Ascending (left) and Level Trail (right) for Mt Yakunimi

Stairs (left) and Footpath (right) connecting with Mt Takao

It was another blue-sky day, so common in winter in the Tokyo area, as I rode the limited express to Hadano station. Both transfers, first to the local train line and then to the bus line, went quickly and smoothly; shortly after noon, I got off at a stop in the middle of a long slope and headed up a steep road running parallel to the main road, taking me into the Shibusawa Hills (渋沢丘陵). At a bend in the road, I reached a viewpoint of the Tanzawa mountains to the north.

View of the Tanzawa Mountains at the start of the Hike

“Field View point” on the Trail for Mt Zukko

I was surprised by the lack of snow in this season, probably due to the ongoing dry weather. From left to right, I could see Mt Nabewari, Mt To and Mt Oyama, ridges and valleys easily discernable in the clear winter air. I continued up the steep road, now heading south. Since the air was so clear today, I decided to make a detour to a nearby viewpoint along the trail for Mt Zukko. After a short walk on a curving level road between woods and fields, I arrived at “Hatake no Tenbodai” (畑の展望台 meaning “Field Viewpoint”) with a couple of benches and a view of the Western part of the Tanazawa mountain range.

Trail for Mt Yakunimi

Lots of Fallen Trees on the way to Mt Yakunimi

I was pleased to get a view of the remoter peaks of Western Tanzawa, less well-known and harder to access than those of the Eastern half; I could also see the long ridge leading to Mt Mikuni. After a short break, I headed back to the trail for today’s mountain, admiring the first plum blossoms of the season along the way. At 1pm, I turned right, onto a path signposted for the summit; according to the signpost, the road I’d been following up to now also led there, but I preferred to walk on dirt than on asphalt.

Mt Fuji View from the Top of Mt Yakunimi

Mt Fuji and its Winter Snow Cover

I had to walk over, around and even under several fallen tree trunks, adding charm to the otherwise well-maintained path. Beyond a bamboo forest and a series of bamboo steps, I reached the top of Mt Yakunimi (八国見山 やくにみやま yakunimi-yama, meaning “8-country view”). Almost completely in the trees, a gap perfectly placed on the west side allowed for a majestic view of snow-covered Fuji, a secret viewing spot of Japan’s iconic volcano. I sat on one of the bamboo benches for lunch with a view. Shortly after 1h30, I resumed my hike, heading down the west side. Very soon I rejoined the road I’d been on earlier; a little further on, it ended at the top of a newly-built concrete staircase with a wide view to the south.

View South above the Cemetery

View West from near the Cemetery

I was delighted with this unexpected view, the trees having been cleared to make way for a cemetery, a wide grassy expanse near the base of the steps, still mostly free of graves. On the west side, I could see Mt Fuji and the outline of the Hakone mountains; to the south, forested hills stretched all the way to the Shonan coast and Sagami Bay. At the bottom of the steps, I walked a short way along a brand new road before turning left up a shorter concrete staircase; this connected with a footpath that soon joined a country lane heading south.

View of Mt Yakunimi with the Tanzawa Mountains behind

Mt Yakunimi (front left), Mt To (center) & Mt Odake (right)

This part of the hike felt quite adventurous: even though I was walking through fields and woods, the lane I was following was unknown to Google Maps and I had to rely entirely on my hiking app to find my way. Turning around I had a good view of Mt Yakunimi with the Tanzawa mountain range rising in the background. As I rounded a bend with a bamboo grove on my left, I came upon Neo Bandit Base, a campsite in the middle of nowhere with no apparent access, almost as if it were a real bandit hideout. At a fork in the road, I followed the right branch to the top of the campsite, taking me to a viewpoint of the forested hills as they extended southwards.

Country Lane Past Mt Takao

Forested Hills extending South to the Coast

I imagined it’d be a nice place to spend the night, enjoying a view from one’s tent, perched high up on the hillside. I followed the road a little further as it curved around the back of the mountain and soon reached the top of Mt Takao (高尾山 307), a minor mountain lacking a summit marker. It was surrounded by forest so I quickly retraced my steps to the main road. I soon found myself walking through farmland again, with a view of the Soga Hills to the south; along the way, I spotted bunches of white and yellow “suisen“, as well as orange “mikan“, adding colour to the winter landscape. After some descending, I reached a busy road, snaking its way along the base of a valley. After about 20 minutes walking on the sidewalk, I reached a signpost for the Fujimzuka Hiking Trail (富士見塚ハイキングコース) on the right side.

View of the Soga Hills past Mt Takao

Walking through Farmland

I was glad to be walking on a peaceful country lane again, taking me through the Yanagi Village Farm (やまぎ村ファーム). Past a white recycling center, out of place at the edge of the fields, I spotted a signpost for a trail leading into the forest on the left. The leaf-covered path climbed and then dipped into a steep, narrow valley. After crossing a stream over a metal bridge, I turned left, following the water upstream. Past a bamboo grove, I suddenly emerged onto a road. As the 4 o’clock chime sounded, buildings and fields lit golden in the setting sun, I made my way through the shinokubo neighbourhood and soon arrived at Jifuku-ji Temple (地福寺) at the bend of a bypass; beyond, the road climbed a long slope.

Walking through Forest near the End of the Hike

Sunset and Mt Fuji above Matsuda City

I hastened to reach the highest point, the gloom increasing fast shortly before sunset. I passed the entrance of Mishima Shrine (三嶋神社), walking under the overhanging branches of Shinokubo’s chinquapin (篠窪の椎 shinokubo no shii). This species of beech was more than 500 years old and one the 100 famous trees of Kanagawa; its lengthy branches were upheld by a metal frame, creating a natural tunnel over the road, but unfortunately too dark for a good picture.

A Natural Tree Tunnel (photo by Anthony Griffin)

Mt Fuji and its Snowcap (photo by Anthony Griffin)

As the sun was setting behind the Hakone mountains, I reached Fujimi-zuka (富士見塚), marked by a stone monument. From the pass, I had one final view of Mt Fuji of the day, now a grey outline with a fiery, orange background. It was another 30-minute walk down a quiet road to the outskirts of Matsuda city; after passing under the Tomei expressway, I caught a bus for Shin-Matsuda station arriving there around 5pm. After a one hour wait, I boarded the Fuji express for the 70-minute comfortable ride back to Shinjuku.

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Onjuku Coast Walking Path, Onjuku Town and Isumi City, Chiba Prefecture, Saturday, January 10, 2026 [Highest Point 62m]

I was looking for a low elevation hike for a cold winter day. I decided to continue last year’s hike along the Fureai no Michi on the Pacific side of the Boso Peninsula. I’d get to walk on Onjuku beach, famous for its white sands; visit the Mexican memorial commemorating a Spanish shipwreck 400 years ago; finally, check out a Buddhist temple perched above the ocean; if time allowed, I could drop by a couple of secret beaches off the main route. A popular place in summer, I hoped it would be nicely deserted in the middle of winter.

Hiking the Fureai no Michi ふれあいの道

To get to the start of the hike, I’d ride the limited express Wakashio from Tokyo station to Onjuku station. For the return, I’d catch the local JR Sotobo line from Namihana station and ride one stop to Ohara station; there, I could transfer to the Wakashio bound for Tokyo. The weather was supposed to be sunny in the morning with some clouds in the afternoon; the temperatures would be mild for the season but with strong wind. I was looking forward to a relaxing walk with some good views of the Boso coastline and the Pacific Ocean.

Steps leading up (left) to the Mexican Memorial (right)

Ohazuki Coast (left) Tunnel for Koura Coast (right)

It was a blue sky day as I rode the limited express through the Chiba countryside, arriving at Onjuku station a little before 10h30. After walking alongside the Shimizu river, partly hidden by swaying pampa grass, for 15 minutes, I reached the start of the sand dunes and spotted two camels up ahead. I thought it was a mirage but upon getting closer, I realised it was actually two statues, called “Tsuki no Sabaku” (月の砂漠 “Desert of the Moon”). As I approached, the wide sandy expanse of Onjuku Beach came into view.

Pampas Grass hiding the Shimizu River

The Tsuki no Sabaku Memorial Statue

I was amazed by the fine white sand, unlike any other beach in the Tokyo area. On the far side, cliffs rose above the ocean, enclosing the curving beach within the bay. The wind was blowing so hard I had to face the other way to protect my eyes from the tiny grains of sand flying through the air. I soon arrived at Iwawada Coast (岩和田海岸). I turned left before the fishing port, leaving the coast temporarily, and followed the signs for the Mexican Memorial. Very soon, I reached some steps leading up the back of a cliff; beyond a pass, I turned right at a junction and soon reached an open shelter with a viewpoint on the west side.

Steps Leading up the Back of the Bluff

View of Onjuku Beach from near the Mexican Memorial

I was glad to get a bird’s eye view of Onjuku beach, completely deserted in this season; the green blue sea, white foamy waves, and pale yellow sand, framed by dark green bluffs rising in the background, created a scenic tableau. Looking down, I could see the Iwawada Fishing Port; above were birds of prey gliding through the sky. I headed back to the junction, and continued towards a soaring column on top of the next rise. After making my way up some more steps, I arrived at the Mexican Monument, commemorating the 1609 shipwreck of a Spanish vessel from the Philippines, and heartwarming rescue of the survivors by the local Japanese.

Ohazuki Coast and Candle Rock

Spot where Don Rodrigo set foot on Japan

I was moved to read that Miura Anjin, whose life story I had just read, had built the ship allowing the remaining crew to continue their trip to Mexico. It was a little past noon so I decided to stop for an early lunch . Afterwards, I headed down a road back to sea level, and turned left upon reaching a main road, following the omnipresent Kanto no Fureai Michi signposts. Around here, I came across a “kyon“, a kind of miniature deer, foraging for food before vanishing into the bushes. A little further, I headed down an unsignposted footpath on the right side. After a 5-minute walk next to a bubbling brook, the surrounding view mostly blocked by tall grasses, I arrived at Ohazuki Coast (大波月海岸) one of the hidden beaches on today’s hike.

View of the Beach where Don Rodrigo was Shipwrecked

Koura Coast and Notto no Hana

I was stunned by the view of the golden cliffs ending at Roskoku-iwa (ロウソク岩 meaning Candle Rock) in the distance. The wind was frighteningly strong so after snapping a few shots, I quickly retreated back to the road. A little later, I reached the actual spot where the ship of Don Rodrigo, who was the governor of the Philippines at the time, had landed. I took a moment to imagine the shipwreck rescue scene before moving on. Just a little further, I reached the entrance path for the second hidden beach of the day. After a 10-minute walk, including a spooky passage through a dark tunnel, I reached Koura Coast (小浦海岸), a wide beach framed by cliffs on each side.

Heading back from Koura Coast

Hyotan Pond on the way to Iwafune Jizoson

I was impressed by the unexpected view of the yellow bluffs topped with green bushy vegetation, the colours enhanced by the sun, already low in the sky; they extended northwards, ending at solitary Notto no Hana (ノットの鼻) rock. . I took a moment to enjoy the sound of crashing waves and then made my way back to the main road which I then followed to the top of a hill, also the highest point of the hike. Thick vegetation on both sides meant only blue sky was visible above, although more and more clouds were fast approaching from the South. Eventually, I emerged into a charming cultivated valley and turned right onto a smaller road which led through the first of two short tunnels.

Ocean View form Tsurushi Coast

Iwafune Jizoson on the sea under blue skies

Past the tunnel, I was delighted to discover a profusion of white and yellow “suisen” (daffodils) on each side of the road, most of them fully open, my first time catching them at this stage. Overhead the sky was totally overcast, tall cedars swaying dizzyingly in the gale. Past a small shrine and a second tunnel, I arrived at Hyotan Pond (meaning “Gourd Pond”), also the head of another cultivated valley. I found it curious to see a flat body of calm water so close to the crashing waves of the Ocean. A little further, I reached Tsurushi Kaigan (釣師海岸 meaning “Angler Coast”) another scenic viewpoint of the coastline, situated at a bend of the road.

Bright Red Iwafune Jizoson Temple

Sunset from Namihana Station

I was excited to get another view of the spectacular coastline; the clouds had thankfully moved on and the afternoon light coloured the cliffs and rock islands in gold and copper. It was 3pm and I had to step up the pace to finish before sunset. Up ahead, I could soon see the red shrine building of Iwafune Jizoson (岩船地蔵尊) famous for its Jizo statues. It was a picturesque scene, the red shrine contrasting with the blue sky above. After briefly checking out the Jizo statues, I turned left at the Iwafune fishing village, following the road through a tunnel and into the valley I had first glanced near Hyotan Pond. I arrived at Namihana station at 4pm, as the sun set behind the low inland hills, illuminating the clouds in yellow and orange, a fine finish to a spectacular hike.

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Yokoyama no Michi, Tama & Kawasaki Cities, Tokyo & Kanagawa Prefectures, Saturday, January 3, 2026 [Highest Point 168m]

I wanted to do another hike inside Tokyo for the first outing of the year. I found out about the Tama Yokohama no Michi Promenade last spring on a “sakura walk” from Tama Center to Karakida station. I felt this would be a good time to explore this historical road following a west-east ridge through the Tama Hills, between the Musashino and Sagamino Plains, north and south respectively. Along the way, I’d pass several viewpoints, as well as historical sites and nature spots.

To get to the start of the hike, I’d ride the Keio Sagamihara Line to Minami-Osawa station, and there catch a bus for the short ride to the west side of Nagaike Park. I would finish at Wakabadai station, 4 stops up the line. It had snowed the previous day, and although today’s weather was supposed to be sunny, I’d need to be careful of ice and mud on the trail. I hoped I’d get some good views of the Kanto mountains, as well as Mt Fuji on my first hike of 2026.

Snow Path (left) Bare Tree (right) at the Start of the Hike

Shadows from a Bridge Rail (left) & Path Rail (right)

It was a cold winter day, spurring me on at a fast pace to warm myself up. At 12h30, I reached a viewpoint inside Nagaike Park (長池公園 168m), also the highest point of today’s walk. Looking west, I could see the higher peaks of the Tanzawa and Oku-chichibu mountains, as well as Mt Mito, Mt Gozen and Mt Kumotori, a dusting of snow on each summit; regrettably a building blocked the view of Mt Fuji. I exited the park and followed a paved road hugging its east side. Past a bridge over a 4-lane road, I spotted a footpath between a guardrail and a wooden fence, next to a warehouse belonging to a shipping company.

Western Section of the Yokoyama no Michi

Karakida Section of the Yokoyama no Michi

A thin layer of snow covered the trail, forcing me to proceed cautiously in the uphill sections. I was now at the Western Edge of the Tama Yokoyama no Michi (多摩よこやまの道西端 164m). Beyond a white tower from a water distribution station, I arrived at a viewpoint of the Tsurumi river headwaters on the southwest side, although I could only see forest, as well as an electric power line in the far distance. I soon set off again, following a dirt trail northwest, red “tsubaki” (camelia) occasionally brightening the evergreen vegetation.

Trail alongside the Tokyo Kokusai Golf Course

View South of the Tanzawa Mountains

After some ups and downs, I reached a flat, straight section covered in fallen leaves with glimpses of the Musashino plain on the north side. A little after 1pm, I found myself walking along a tree-lined promenade with buildings on the left and vegetable fields on the right. After crossing a road for Karakida station, I headed up some steps leading to a dirt path between the white tower of a recycling center and a golf course. Beyond a fence leading to a private farm, I had an unexpected view of the Tanzawa mountains.

Descending into a Snowy Shaded Valley

Icy Path on a Cold Day

Gazing at the bucolic scenery and listening to the cheerful birdsong, it was hard to believe I was still inside Tokyo. At a junction, I turned left and carefully made my way down an icy path into a snowy valley deep in the shade. Alternating sidewalks and footpaths, I contoured the northern side of the Tokyo Kokusai Golf Club, the Yokoyama no Michi alway easy to follow thanks to the frequent wooden signposts. After a short climb through a residential neighbourhood, I reached another viewpoint of the Tanzawa mountains on the right side.

View of Mt Fuji & the Tanzawa mountains

Past the Yellow Houses, the Okutama Mountains

I had a clear view of the whole range with the summit of Mt Fuji rising above the ridgeline north of Mt Hiru. I was glad to get my first view of Japan’s highest mountain so early in the year. I descended through a small park, and after crossing a road, headed up a footpath next to a golf driving range. I soon had a view of the Kanto Mountains, enclosing the city on the west side. A little later, I arrived at Ipponsugi Park (一本杉公園), the halfway point of today’s hike. Since it was 3pm, I sat on a bench facing a pond for a late lunch. I soon moved on, and after leaving the park, made my way down a slope ending at Myooji Temple where I turned left onto a dirt trail leading around and above a cemetery.

Trail Past Myooji Temple

Trail between the Nagayama and Kurokawa Areas

Soon, I was walking with a view of the suburbs to the left, and a wall of vegetation to the right. After making my way down some log steps, I arrived at a bridge over a 4-lane road beyond which I turned right, up a steep, curving road leading to another footpath on the left side. I was now walking through dark evergreen forest, the sun quite low above the horizon. Very soon the paved path turned into a dirt path covered in fallen leaves, the golden sunlight reaching me through the bare branches on the right. Just before 4pm, I reached Mikaeri Pass (見返りの峠) confusingly situated at the top of a small hill with a wide view on the west side.

Trail before Mikaeri Pass

Trail near Mt Suwa

This was by far the best viewpoint of the day, also called the Tama Hills Panoramic Hill (多摩丘陵パノラマの丘). From left to right, I could see the Tanazawa, Oku-Chichibu, Okutama and Oku-Musashi mountains, as well as Mt Fuji. The setting sun bathed the surrounding scenery in golden light although I hope I can one day see this return to this spot on a clear morning. I had to pick up my pace if I wanted to finish before dark. A short up and down led me to the top of Mt Suwa (諏訪ヶ岳 すわがたけ), a minor summit surrounded by trees. I then followed a wide path westwards through mixed forest.

Kawasaki Section of the Yokoyama no Michi

Red Coloured Trail on the Yokoyama no Michi

From this point, the trail became quite hilly, extending the final part of the hike, the surrounding forest coloured red conveying a sense of urgency. Finally, at 4h30, I arrived at a small park marking the eastern edge of the Yokoyama no Michi (多摩よこやまの道東端 141m), just as the sun was setting behind the Tanzawa mountains. I made a last goodbye to Mt Fuji, and then turned right onto a road heading down into Sagamino valley on the south side; after a 20 minute walk through town, I reached Wakabadai station a little before 5pm. There, I caught the Keio line for the half an hour ride back to Shinjuku station.

End of the Hike at the End of the Day

Golden Fuji from the Eastern End of the Yokoyama no Michi

In the end, it took me fours hour and a half to walk the entire length of the Yokohama no Michi, although it’s possible to shorten it if one starts from Karakida station instead. I was impressed by how I was able to walk nearly continuously along footpaths, a rarity so close to the city center. Frequent signposts meant that it was easy to follow, although many of the signs have faded with time. I lacked time to read all the historical explanations (in Japanese) along the way; that would definitely require a full day hike. I passed many other trails along the way; I’d love to return one day and do some more hikes in the area, mainly southwards into Machida city, and also in a different season.

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Shiroyama no Mori (126m), Inagi & Kawasaki Cities, Tokyo & Kanagawa Prefectures, Sunday & Tuesday, December 28 & 30, 2025

I wanted to do my year-end hike inside Tokyo since it’s the one time of the year local lines are mostly empty, as people head to their hometowns for the year-end holidays. The shorter travel times and lower elevations are also better suited to the short, cold days of winter. Finally, I was keen to continue exploring the network of trails south of the Tama river, often overlooked in my quest to scale new peaks.

Path above (left) and behind (right) Myoken-ji

Steps (left) and Susuki (right) on the Shinrinyoku Route

Looking at my map, I picked a station to station hike easily accessible from the city center. I’d ride the Keio Sagamihara line to Inagi station, just 30 minutes from Shinjuku, and first explore the forested, hilly area above Myoken Temple. I’d then head southwest along the Misawa River valley to Kurokawa station. Next, I’d follow the “Forest Bathing” route southeast to Kurihira station. Finally, I’d continue in the same direction along an unnamed ridge path and finish at Satsukidai station on the Odakyu Tama line, also 30 minutes from Shinjuku.

Walking above Shinkoji Park (left) and Town (right)

Path past Kurihira (left) Bamboo Grove before Satsukidai (right)

The weather was supposed to be sunny all day with temperatures cold for the season. Although my planned route didn’t include any summits, I hoped to get views of Tokyo, the Kanto Mountains, as well as snow-capped Mt Fuji. I was looking forward to enjoying various “Satoyama” sceneries along the way.

In the end, I decided to break the hike into two parts: I finished at Kurokawa around 3pm on the 28th, and started again from Wakabadai, one station down the line, around 1pm, on the 30th, each section about 3 hours. The weather on the 30th remained sunny but with temperatures warm for the season.

Entrance to Myoken-ji Temple

View of Central Tokyo from Yushi no Satoyama

It was a crisp, cold winter day as I exited Inagi station around 1130am. A short walk brought me to the entrance of the peaceful Myoken-ji temple (妙見寺). After checking out the bell tower, I headed up a steep flight of stone steps to a shrine gate; beyond, a paved road continued uphill through a bamboo grove ending at Myoken shrine. To its right, I found a path ending at a sunny hilltop called Yushi no Satoyama (ゆうしの里山) from where I had a view to the east.

Path for Shiroyama no Mori

View of Mt Fuji from Shiroyama no Mori

I was glad to get a view of central Tokyo so early in the hike. From left to right, I could see Sunshine 60, the Tocho and the Skytree. After admiring the view, I made my way to a nearby open shelter from where I could also see Mt Haruna and Mt Akagi, far away to the north, the highest peaks covered in snow. I followed the hilltop northeast through Shiroyama no Mori (城山の森 126m meaning “the forest of Shiroyama”), the forest hiding the city buildings from view. Past another open shelter, I reached the highest point of today’s hike, and looking to the right, I suddenly spotted Mt Fuji through the bare trees.

Walking through Shiroyama no Mori

Bamboo Grove below Shiroyama no Mori

I was pleased to finally get a good view of the snowy top of Mt Fuji, its base hidden by the Tanzawa mountains; it was also truly unexpected, as this spot is unmarked on my maps. I turned right at the next junction and followed a dirt track along a bamboo grove to the base of the hill. I already felt quite satisfied with this first hour of hiking, having seen a temple, bamboo groves and views of the skyscrapers of Tokyo and Mt Fuji. After passing through some fields, I was back inside a residential neighbourhood. After going under the railway tracks, I turned left, and was now following a pedestrian path running parallel to the Misawa river.

Walking along the Misawa River

View of Wakabadai from Kurokawa Farm

Walking against the sun, I was dazzled by the golden pampas grass, growing on both sides of the river. At 1h30, I reached the Inagi City Chūō Park (稲城中央公園), and shortly after, settled on a stone bench next to a secluded bamboo grove for a lunch break. At 2pm, I resumed my hike. After thirty minutes of walking through fields and residential areas , I arrived at Kasayato Water Park (上谷戸親水公園) in the shade of Kasayato Bridge, spanning the sky. After observing a spinning “suisha” (waterwheel), I followed narrow quiet back lanes to the Kurokawa Farm Village, on a plateau on the south side of the river.

Immersed in Nature on the Shinrinyoku Route

Bench with a view of Shinkoji Town

Turning around, I had a wide view of the river valley, apartment blocks lining the north ridge. I descended the west side and reached Kurokawa station at 3pm. The next day, starting from Keio Wakabadai station, I soon reached the nearby Odakyu Kurokawa station, beyond which was the Kurokawa Youth Outdoor activity center, as well as the start of the “shinrinyoku” (forest bathing) route, part of the Asao walking trails. I followed the pleasant footpath westwards through tall pampas grass waving under blue skies. At the top of some log steps, I turned left at an junction; I was now heading southeast through the suburbs, inside a narrow finger of vegetation, alongside Shinkoji Park (真光寺公園), although its central lawn and lake were hidden by forest.

Elevated Path beyond the Shinkoji Green Space

Entering the Tsurugawadai Ridge Green Space

I was surprised to be enclosed by nature so close to the city center. This section is also known as the Shinkoji Green Space (真光寺緑地) and continues into the Tsurugawa-dai Ridge Green Space (鶴川尾根緑地). At 2pm, I reached a bench with a view at the edge of the forest. Looking west, I could see the Tanzawa mountains with Mt Fuji behind, although less clear then two days ago; stretching south was Shinkoji Town. I made a brief stop for lunch and then continued on my way. After a short stretch of open views, I entered the forest again. The dirt track soon ended at a paved road where I turned left, leaving the ridge and descending into the Katakira river valley, through another agricultural area. At 3pm, I passed through Odakyu Kurihira station and soon reached another ridge trail through a green space on the north side of the valley.

A Trail with a view of the city

Walking through Furusawa Sakai Forest

I was delighted to be once again walking through nature. At 3h30, I passed the Gorida View Park (五力田見晴公園) with a view of the town on the southwest side. At 4pm, I entered Furusawa Sakai (古沢境), the evergreen forest alternating between shade and golden light. At a junction, I turned right and headed down stone steps, bamboo on my right. I turned left upon reaching a road and passed a red shinto gate leading to Kuromyo Shrine (九郎明神社), its grounds being cleaned for the upcoming new year shrine visit. Soon after, I came upon some fields where I turned right onto a road leading to Satsukidai station, arriving around 4h30, just on time to catch the train for the next station, Shin-Yurigaoka, where I caught the express for the short ride back to Shinjuku.

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Mt Ogura (955m), Koshu City, Yamanashi Prefecture, Sunday, November 23, 2025

I wanted to do another hike in Yamanashi that could be done by car. Looking at my hiking map, I found a mountain north of Yamanashi city, nearly halfway between Mt Daibosatsu and Mt Obina. It was a relatively short loop with a view of the South Alps and Mt Fuji from the observation tower from the summit. Known for its skunk cabbage fields in early spring, I hoped to have the trails mostly to myself in this season.

To get to the hike, I’d drive a share car from Kofu station to a parking lot at Tamamiya Zazenso Park. On the way there, I would stop by Soba Maru, last visited 5 years ago, for a pre-hike lunch. The weather was supposed to be sunny all day with temperatures average for the season. I was looking forward to a pleasant Autumn hike in the mountains of Yamanashi and hoped to get a glimpse of snow-capped Fuji.

Trail between the Skunk Cabbage Fields and the Ridgeline

Some Colours on the Descent

It was a beautiful Autumn day as I rode the Chuo limited express to Kofu city. It was a pleasant drive to Soba Maru, trees lining the roads resplendent in their Autumn colours. At 1230, it was the middle of the lunch rush hour and it took about an hour before I was seated; while waiting, I was able to admire the view of the mountains of Oku-Chichibu, clearly visible at this time of the year. After a satisfying lunch, I quickly set off again, arriving at Tamamiya Zazenso Park (玉宮ざぜん草公園 ) at 2h30, one hour behind schedule.

View towards Mt Konara (right) from Soba Maru

View of the Oku-Chichibu Mountains from Soba Maru

I headed up the main trail, ignoring the wooden walkways on each side as the Skunk Cabbage fields lay dormant in this season. The trail headed straight up a valley already in the shade; the path was covered in yellow leaves, Autumn nearly over at this elevation. At 3pm, I reached the sunny ridgeline, where I turned right. After ten minutes of climbing through dark cedars, I reached the wooden observation tower at the top of Mt Ogura (小倉山 おぐらやまogura-yama) with a view on the South side.

Trail below the Sunlit Ridgeline

Climbing through Dark Cedars

The sun hung low above the horizon, highlighting the misty valleys between rows of mountains, with the South Alps throning in the background, Mt Kita clearly visible in the center. Leaning over the balcony and looking left, I could see Mt Fuji, although its snowcap wasn’t discernable from this distance and at this time of the day. After this magical view, I retraced my steps and continued straight along the ridge, heading northwards. Under cover of another cedar forest, the trail narrowed and became less distinct.

The Ogura Observation Tower

Misty View of the Yamanashi Mountains

I stepped up the pace, concerned about the late hour. At 4pm, I was once again walking under leafless trees, relieved to be back in the sunlight. At the top of a steep section, interspersed with rocks and lined with roped to indicate the way, I arrived at the minor summit Mt Kamijo (上条山 かみじょうやま kamijo-yama 996m). Although it was completely in the trees, the summit marker was golden in the final sun rays of the day. After a short break, I headed down the north side, descending carefully the steep and slippery, leaf-covered slope.

The South Alps with Mt Kita in the Middle

Stream near the End of the Hike

The trail became hard to pick out, forcing me to rely on my GPS and pink strips attached to tree branches. At 4h30, I turned left at Kamijo Pass (上条峠), and headed down a wide valley; here and there, some Autumn leaves remained, adding colour to the early evening darkness. As the valley deepened, the trail gradually became more defined. I soon arrived at a stream where I turned left, now on the last section of the loop. I turned right just before a solar farm, and past Funamiya Shrine (船宮神社), crossed a bridge over the stream. Just beyond was the road, a short walk from the parking which I reached a little after 5pm, just as the last traces of light faded from above the Kofu basin to the south.

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Mt Kuro (1793m) & Mt Hafu (1674m), Fuefuki City, Yamanashi Prefecture, Sunday, November 16, 2025

I had climbed these mountains in December 2013 from the Kawaguchiko side. I wanted to hike them again but from the Fuefuki side; I also wanted to try out our Japanwilds Kuro-dake Map for Avenza. Finally, I was interested in riding the free shuttle bus between the Ashigawa Agricultural Products Market “Ogossoya” and the Suzuran-gunseichi Parking Lot; it started running last year to reduce traffic due to the nearby Fujiyama Twin Terrace. However, the bus I had used on my previous trip to the area from Isawa Onsen had been discontinued, so I ended up renting a car from Kofu city instead and skipping the shuttle entirely.

Hiking inside the Fuji-Hakone-Izu National Park

富士箱根伊豆国立公園

From the parking lot, I could take the most direct route up Mt Kuro, and after checking out the view from the nearby observation point, follow the ridge westwards past Mt Hafu and then down to Shindo Pass, also the location of the Fujiyama Twin Terrace. From there, I would again take the most direct route back to the parking. If time allowed, I could drop by Kamiku no Yu onsen on the way back. The weather was supposed to be sunny but near freezing at higher elevations. I hoped to get some good views of Mt Fuji and also catch the last of the Autumn colours.

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This map was developed for Japanwilds with the Hokkaido Cartographer

Find more Japan hiking maps on Avenza

Fallen Leaves (left) and Beeches (right) at the Start of the Hike

Trail near the Top (left) Autumn Colours at the End of the Hike (right)

It was a blue sky day as I drove southwards from Kofu station towards the Misaka Mountains (御坂山地). After following a narrow road along the Ashi river valley, I arrived at the Lily of the Valley Flower Colony Parking Lot (すずらん群生地駐車場) just after 11h30. I had to use a smaller parking for hikers since the main one, a little further down the road, was reserved for people using the Twin Terrace Bus. A little after noon, I set off along a faint path starting from the parking lot. After passing a second parking for hikers and crossing a small bridge over a dry riverbed, I arrived at an electric fence beyond which was the start of a well-defined walking path.

Last Rays of Sun near the Summit of Mt Kuro

Trail near Mt Hafu

I found myself walking among tall beeches, their tops already bare of leaves, drawing attention to their white trunks. After recrossing the dry riverbed, I reached a paved road where I turned right and soon passed the gated entrance for the road for Fujiyama Twin Terrace, closed to private cars. A little further, I arrived at a sign for today’s mountain, pointing to a faint trail heading up the left side of the dry riverbed. Here, I was glad I could see my position on the Japanwilds digital map since the trail was at times hard to follow. At 1pm, I turned right onto a ridge, the path merging with a signposted trail leading to the summit.

Sun Rays Filtering through the clouds

View of Kawaguchiko Lake from below Mt Hafu

I made good time up the steep trail allowing me to stay warm in the frigid temperatures. I was above 1000 meters and Autumn was already well over, the white beeches providing most of the scenery; a sign indicating told me I was inside a 100 famous forest of Yamanashi. The trail gradually became less steep, giving me a chance to catch my breath without having to take a break. After a couple of turns, I suddenly came upon the summit of Mt Kuro (黒岳 くろだけ kuro-dake meaning “Mt Dark”), the highest peak of the Misaka mountains and a 300 famous mountain of Japan. It was completely in the trees so I dropped my pack and headed for the observation point a few meters to the right, hoping to get a glimpse of Mt Fuji.

First Terrace of Fujiyama Twin Terrace

Autumn Leaves Catching the Sun from the First Terrace

I was surprised to see that thick clouds had rolled in during my ascent, completely hiding Mt Fuji from view. According to the other hikers, I had missed Japan’s iconic volcano by only a few minutes. Looking down, I still had a view of Kawaguchiko lake extending east to west along the base of the mountains. On the right side, I could see Mt Ou and Mt Setto, two other main peaks of the Misaka mountains. I decided to skip my planned lunch break and immediately head to the next summit, in hope that the clouds would have cleared by then. I retraced by steps and headed down a steep path on the west side; beyond Suzuran Pass (すずらん峠), the path became level and easy to walk.

In the Distance, Mt Shakushi and Mt Mishotai

View of Kawaguchi City and its Lake from the 2nd Terrace

This was the most peaceful and pleasant part of the hike, surrounded by pines masking all sounds and views. I soon passed the summit of Mt Hafu (破風山 はふうざん hafu-zan), only noticeable by its summit marker doubling as a signpost. A short way down the west side was another viewpoint of the Fuji Five Lake area. It was past 2pm so I settled down for a late lunch. Although the clouds were still in, sun rays filtering through the gaps created a magical scenery. At 2h30 I set off again, and soon after passing another viewpoint on the left side, I came upon the first terrace of Fujiyama Twin Terrace at Shindo Pass (新道峠). Opened in July 2021, it was accessible via a short bus ride from the Suzuran Gunseichi parking (a fee is charged each way), and thus was filled with about a dozen sightseers.

Second Terrace of Fujiyama Twin Terrace

Mt Fuji on a Clear Day (Dec 2013 Photo)

I was stunned by the view of the golden larches covering the foothills, enhanced by the late afternoon sun rays, although Fuji was still stubbornly in the clouds. I made my way to the first terrace, just a few meters away; it was deserted of people, tall pines slightly in the way of the perfect view. It was nearly 3pm, a couple of hours before dark, so I gave up on seeing Japan’s highest mountain and headed down via a paved road, moving to the side once to let the bus pass. Fifteen minutes later, I turned left onto the trail from Suzuran Pass; after descending through dark cedars, I reached a small road the second parking for hikers.

Autumn Leaves near the End of the Hike

A multicolour Japanese Maple Tree

During this part, I finally got a close up view of some beautiful Autumn leaves. A little after 3h30, I arrived back at my car, the last one left in parking area. I drove a short distance to Kamiku-mo-yu, which I reached just before sunset, and after a refreshing hot bath, got back behind the wheel for the return trip to Kofu. Although I experienced a “shy Fuji” today, I was glad I could do a hike in the Fuji area, somewhat of a challenge nowadays due to the high number of overseas visitors. I’d like to return one day and try another hike, but this time starting from Fujiyama Twinterrace.

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Mt Mito (1531m) & Mt Osawa (1524m), Hinohara Village, Tokyo Prefecture, Saturday, November 8, 2025

I had been up Mt Mito twice before, in 2010 and 2018, but felt it was time to revisit this 300 famous mountain of Japan inside the Chichibu-Tama-Kai National Park and the Hinohara Tokyo Citizens’ Forest. I wanted to walk though beautiful forest, see some more Autumn colours, as well as explore new trails close to the capital; with luck, I’d also get a view of Mt Fuji from the summit. Looking at my map, I decided to go up the Otaki and Buna Paths, as I did in 2018, but descend via a new route, the Miyama Path; I’d pass another summit on the way, and end up on the Otaki Path again for the last leg back.

Hiking in the Chichibu-Tama-Kai National Park

秩父多摩甲斐国立公園

To get to the start of the hike, I’d ride the Ome line to Hajima and change to the Istukaichi line for the short ride to Musashi-Itsukaichi station. From there, I’d board an express bus for the one-hour trip to Tokyo Citizen’s Forest, the end of the line. I decided to catch the mid-morning bus and take the last one of the day back, meaning I’d need to finish well on time today. The weather was supposed to be clear in the morning turning cloudy in the afternoon. I hoped I’d be able to get some views before the sun vanished and that it wouldn’t be too cold on top of one of Tokyo’s highest peaks.

Start of the Hike (left) Above Otaki Waterfall (right)

Stone Steps (left) and Log Steps (right) on the Beech Path

It was a sunny day as I rode the Green Car through the suburbs of Tokyo. After arriving at Musashi-Itsukaichi station just before 11am, I made my way to the head of the line for the Tomin no mori (東民の森) express bus. Thanks to the bus being only half-full, most hikers having taken the early morning one, I had views on the left and right of the Autumn colours along the Akigawa river, as the bus crossed several bridges on the way up the narrow valley.

Ascending (left) and Level Sections (right) along the Beech Path

Takimi Bridge (left) Mito Otaki Waterfall (right)

I was lucky to spot some monkeys along the road, on the opposite side of the ridge from Hossawa falls where I had spotted them on my 2020 hike. There was little traffic in the middle of the day, allowing the bus to arrive ten minutes before schedule, at 1235. I set off almost immediately to get the most out of the sunny weather, passing many people wrapping up their hike. Within a few minutes I was walking along the “Big Waterfall” Path (大滝の路 ootaki-no-michi), also called the Forest Therapy Road (森林セラピーロード shinrin-serapi-rodo), a wide, level trail through mixed forest. Very soon, I reached a viewpoint on the left side.

Start of the Forest Therapy Road

Viewpoint of the Akigawa Valley from the Otaki Path

I was glad to get a view of the Autumn colours under the blue sky, high thin cirrus clouds announcing an imminent weather change. Directly ahead was the long ridge leading to Sengenrei opposite was the ridge for Mt Maruyama; in the far distance, I could make out the 3 mountains of Tokura (戸倉三山). A sign indicated that the elevation was 1078m, meaning I had about 500 meters to climb. I set off again and at 1pm, arrived at Takimi bridge (滝見橋), a wooden suspended bridge, opposite Mito-otaki (三頭大滝), a 30-meter high waterfall.

Beech Path below the Summit

View of Mt Odake (left) from the Observation Deck

The stream of falling water surrounded by vivid Autumn foliage was more impressive than I had remembered. I spent a few minutes enjoying the view before retracing my steps back to the trail, the other end of the bridge leading nowhere. I soon reached a junction where I took the right branch, the start of the Beech Path (プナの路 buna-no-michi); the left branch was the end of the Miyama Path where I hoped to arrive later on. The rocky path, possibly an ancient road, climbed steadily, crossing a stream several times over man-made stone bridges.

Going Down via the Miyama Path

Autumn Colours on the Miyama Path

I was glad to be walking alongside rushing water since it had been nearly 6 months since my last river hike. I kept up the fast pace, and after reaching a couple of benches at Mushikari Pass (ムシカリ峠), turned right up a series of log steps for the final part of the climb. The beeches here were stunning, with their white trunks and orange leaves. I soon passed a sign for 1500 meters, my fast climbing speed protecting me against the near freezing temperatures. Just after 2pm, I arrived at the Mt Mito West Peak (三頭山西峰 1524m). Mt Mito translates as “three tops” since it is formed of 3 separate peaks. Looking south through a gap in the trees, I could see the top crater of Mt Fuji poking above the clouds; looking north, I could see the prominent peak of Mt Takanosu directly ahead; further away and slightly to the left was Mt Kumotori.

Few People on this Adventurous Trail

Trail before Mito Otaki Waterfall

I suddenly felt very cold, the forecasted clouds having filled most of the sky; after bundling up, I headed down a trail on the west side but soon found myself climbing again. In quick succession, I passed the central and highest peak of Mt Mito (三頭山 みとうさん mitou-san) and the Mt Mito east peak (三頭山東峰 1527m), both completely in the trees; beyond was an Observation Point, a wooden deck on the north side of the mountain. Here I dropped my backpack for a late lunch with a view. I could see Mt Gozen and Mt Odake, the Autumn leaves in the foreground slightly muted by the overcast sky. At 2h30, feeling chilled, I shouldered my pack, retraced my steps to Mushikari Pass, and continued straight, following the ridgeline southwards, past the Mt Mito Emergency Hut (三頭山避難小屋). At 3pm, I reached the top of Mt Osawa (大沢山 おおさわやま oosawa-yama), Mt Fuji now hidden in the clouds but Mt Mishotai and Mt Kuki both clearly visible.

Takimi Bridge and Otaki Falls

Red Japanese Maple on the Forest Therapy Road

I headed downhill through a deep, quiet forest, now following the Mountain path (深山の路 miyama-no-ro), the only person to venture along it at this late hour. After some level ridge walking, I turned left at a junction, leaving the route of my 2010 hike. From this point it was mostly downhill, through mixed forest in resplendent Autumn colours, interspersed with solitary pines. Around 3h30, I passed a rocky clearing with a view of the triangular summit of Mt Mito on the north side. About 30 minutes later, the path crossed a stream, and after following it for a short while, merged with the Otaki Path. Since I was ahead of schedule, I had time to check out the waterfall again and also drop by the Shinrinkan (森林官 Forest Building) before hopping on the bus for Musashi-Istukaichi station. Light traffic allowed the bus to arrive early again, giving me ample time to buy some local sake before boarding the train for the train ride back to Tokyo.

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Yatsugatake Sanroku Super Trail (Highest Point 1410m), Minami-maki & Koumi Towns, Nagano Prefecture, Sunday, November 2, 2025

I had previously walked several sections of the Yatsugatake Sanroku Super Trail, from Kiyosato station to Kai-koizumi station (sections 5 & 6), from Nobeyama station to Kiyosato station (sections 7 & 8) and the Kirigamine Highland loop (#15); I was reminded of this long distance trail earlier this year when I passed by the head office of the Japan Long Trail Association at the Momofuku Ando Center. I felt it was time to explore another section of this multi-day trail around the foothills of the Yatsugatake mountain range. Looking at my map, it seemed that section 9, between Nobeyama station and Matsubara Lake, could be done as a day trip from Tokyo. It was on the long side, and although the elevation change was modest, I would need to walk fast with few breaks to complete it before dark.

Hiking on Yatsugatake 八ヶ岳

To get to the start of the hike, I would ride the Chuo line limited express to Kobuchizawa, and there, change to the Koumi lime for the half an hour 500 meter ascent to Nobeyama station. At the end of the hike, I could catch a bus from Matsubara Lake and get off at Yahho Onsen. After a hot bath, I could use the same bus in the opposite direction to get to Matsubarako Station; there, I could board the Koumi line for the one hour trip to Sakudaira station where I could hop on the shinkansen for Tokyo. The weather was supposed to be sunny, and although the temperatures would reach 20°C in the lowlands, they would remain under 10°C in the highlands. I was looking forward to a countryside ramble with views of the Nagano mountains.

Oku-Chichibu Mountains (left) Mt Ogura (right)

Japanese Maple (left) Matsubara Lake Path (right)

It was a sunny Autumn day as I rode the Azusa Limited Express to Kobuchizawa (887m), where I transferred to the packed two-car Koumi line train bound for Komoro. It was only from Kiyosato station that I could get a seat on the last section of the ride up the southeastern edge of Yatsugatake. A little before 11am, I stepped off the train at Nobeyama station (1345m), the highest train station in Japan, also the start of today’s section of the Yatsugatake Sanroku Super Trail (八ヶ岳山麓スーパートレイル) or Super Trail of the Mt Yatsu Foothills.

View of Yatsugatake from the Makiba Line

Nagano Autumn View

I was immediately chilled by the mountain breeze, as well as the freezing wind blowing from the Yatsugatake mountains directly opposite. After bundling up, I set off along a busy road past an equally busy dairy farm, but soon turned right onto a quiet countryside lane through mixed forest, the Yatsugatake Makiba Line (八ヶ岳まきばライン) which I’d follow for most of the hike. I soon reached an open section with pastures on each side of the road and wide views in both directions.

Mt Ogura (left), Mt Otoko (center) & Mt Tengu (right)

Autumn Leaves near Senga Falls

I was glad to get a view so soon on the hike. Looking west, I could see the Southern Yatsugatake mountains, its peaks tinged in white and its foothills tinted red; on the east side were the lower but more numerous peaks of the Oku-Chichibu mountains. Low clouds had appeared directly above Yatsugatake, casting shade on its steep rocky flanks; it made me wonder if the sunny weather would hold. The road dipped into a shallow valley and after crossing a bridge, I reached another viewpoint of the Oku-Chichibu mountains.

Autumn Colours above Senga Falls

Metal Staircase for Senga Falls

I was stunned by the contrast of light blue sky and pale yellow susuki grass. In the distance, I could make out, from left to right, Mt Ogura, Mt Otoko, Mt Tengu, Mt Yokoo and Mt Meshimori. The susuki was swaying in successive breezes, fluffy clouds moving south to north along the valley between the two mountain ranges. As the noon chime played, I remembered I was on a tight schedule and set off again, the occasional passing car interrupting the peaceful surroundings. I turned left at a junction with another road, staying on the Makiba line, and followed the road as it descended into a forested valley.

The Okuchichibu mountains with pastures in the foreground

Heading down into the Chikuma River Valley

I was pleased to discover the entrance to a hiking trail just past a bridge over a river. It was signposted for a waterfall and although time was short today, I decided to check it out. After a five-minute walk along a rough path, I reached the top of a metal staircase. From the base, it was a short distance to the roaring Senga Falls (千ヶ滝), its flow likely inflated due to the recent rains. After taking a while to admire the tumbling water, I retraced my steps to a spot next to the river where I sat on a boulder for a lunch break.

Clouds heading towards Mt Asama

Dark Clouds above Yatsugatake

I was treated to a magical scenery of falling leaves with every gust of wind. The background music of rushing water nearly nursed me to sleep but I had to move along as it was nearly 1pm. Back on the road, I was surprised to see workers in uniform sweeping and raking the fallen leaves in the middle of nowhere. I turned right at a junction, staying on the main road. After another straight section with pastures and a view of the Oku-chichibu mountains, I turned left at the next junction, leaving the main road for a lane, also part of the Makiba line, going up through mixed forest.

Autumn Colours along the Chikuma River Valley

Koumi Line before Umijiri Station

I now passed the highest point of today’s hike (1410m) completely surrounded by orange larches. I caught some movement in the forest and spotted a pair of deer before they bounded away. Soon the road veered right, exited the forest, and descended through farmland where people were busy working the fields. Far away to the north, beyond the green lettuce fields, was Mt Asama; turning around, dark menacing clouds threatened to engulf Yatsugatake. I continued downhill and soon the sound of rushing water could be heard; peering through the trees on the left side, I spotted a river flowing through a forested valley. Beyond a bridge the valley deepened, offering sweeping views of the opposite ridge.

Autumn Colours at Ioin Temple

Footbridge over Otsuki River

This was the most beautiful section of the hike, the mountainside across the valley resplendent with Autumn colours and enhanced by the afternoon sun. Around 2h30, I reached the base of the valley and crossed the Chikuma river, the longest river in Japan; a little later, I passed through the small town around Umijiri station (1035m), the lowest point of today’s hike. After quickly checking out Ioin Temple, I followed a road heading back up into the mountains. Upon reaching a plateau, I turned right through a small community, and crossed a wooden footbridge high above a river.

Mt Ogura from the Footbridge over Mt Otsuki

Fiery Maple Leaf at Matsubara Lake

At the midway point, I had an impressive view of the orange-hued river valley, with Mt Ogura in the far distance, two puffy clouds floating overhead. It was now past 3pm so I hurried along, anxious to catch my bus. Here and there rice was still being harvested in individual fields, sharing the land with solar farms. The sun had sunk below the clouds on the west side, muting the colours of Cho Lake along the way. Soon after, I finally arrived at Matsubara Lake (松原湖), the main attraction of Matsubara Highland (松原湖高原). I followed a path along the lakeshore admiring the red and yellow colours along the way, before hopping on the bus for Yahho Hot spring. After a short but refreshing bath, I boarded the bus on its return trip to Matsubarako station.

Autumn Colours at Matsubara Lake

Lake View at the End of the Hike

In total, the hike took nearly five hours, mostly along paved roads which enabled me to walk at a fast pace. I was glad to have caught the Autumn colours at their peak, the first time for me to see them this season. Unlike the Asama-Yatsugatake Panorama Trail, signposting was non-existent and I had to rely on my phone GPS to find my way. This could explain why I saw no other hikers along the way. In the future I hope to be able to do sections 1 and 11, as they also seem doable as one day trips via public transport, and perhaps in a different season.

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