Hiking Around Tokyo

Having climbed Mt Ogura in 2018, I had wanted to do another hike in the same area, between Yatsugatake and Western Gunma. After checking my Nagano guidebook, I found the perfect candidate just ten kilometers to the north. I attempted it last year, but had to abort at the last minute because of poor weather (I visited Picchio in Karuizawa instead). Since access was with the Komi line via Saku-Daira, I needed to use the Tokyo Wide Pass. The weather on my chosen day was dubious, so I decided to delay my departure by a couple of hours to take advantage of sunnier weather forecast to arrive in the afternoon. Since it was a short hike, and I had planned to use a taxi to get to the start of the trail, a late start wouldn’t be an issue. So once again, my number one concern was the weather – would I get clear skies on my second attempt on this faraway mountain?

Panoramic view from the summit

I arrived at Haguroshita station at the rather late hour of 11am. The sky was still overcast but I was feeling optimistic. The taxi driver told me that the current Emperor, an avid hiker, had once climbed this mountain. The last kilometer of the road, including the parking area, was closed due to road repair, and so I expected to see no one else on the mountain today. The first part of the hike followed a forest road parallel to a river. The surrounding forest was wild and undisturbed, and it felt wonderful to be hiking in Nagano prefecture. I was occasionally startled by sudden noises coming from the forest – falling chestnuts, not a bear stepping on a branch. A little after noon, I reached the official start of the hiking trail. Looking up, I could see wide patches of blue sky.

Forest road at the start of the hike

One of the 100 giant trees of Japan

The trail climbed slowly through the dark and peaceful forest. It took me about half an hour to reach a giant Japanese Horse Chestnut tree (トチノキ tochinoki). It’s one of the hundred giant trees in Japan (I had last encountered one in Ibaraki earlier this year). After checking out this impressive giant tree, I continued on my way. For the first time while hiking, I spotted several daddy long-legs spiders (see video at the end). There were many fern plants on the ground, a nice change from bamboo grass. The path was getting steeper and steeper, and soon it became a series of switchbacks. I was quickly gaining altitude, and thirty minutes later I popped onto a ridge. I was greeted with a blast of cold wind, and I had to take a short break to add a layer of clothing.

Steep climbing among the ferns and birch trees

Hard to believe that the top is only minutes away

After only a few minutes of fast walking along the wooded ridge, I reached the rocky top of Mt Morai (茂来山 もらいさん moraisan) a little before 2pm. Above my head was a nice surprise – beautiful blue sky, as I had hoped. I dropped my pack and enjoyed the views. Spreading beneath me eastwards, were the low mountains of Nishi-Joshu (western Gunma). Straight ahead was the flat top of Mt Arafune, and to the right, was the serrated top of Mt Myogi. Southwards, I could see Mt Ogura, and behind it, the pointy top of Mt Kinpu. South-West, I could just make out the outline of the South Alps. Northwards was the populated valley of Saku. However, the summits of both Yatsugatake and Asamayama were still in the clouds. After spending a full hour on the summit, I started to head down.

Blue skies!

Dark clouds lingered above Mt Yatsu

I retraced my steps to where I had joined the ridgeline earlier, and continued straight. The path soon dived down the other side of the mountain. At times, it was faint and hard to follow, and I had to slow to check the way carefully. After a steep descent, the path leveled, and became easier to walk as it followed a small river. It took me just thirty minutes to descend all the way to the parking lot on the other side of the mountain. However, it was another hour and a half walk, first along a forest road, then a paved road, back to the station. The first part was along a river through beautiful forest; the second part went next to yellow rice fields ready for harvest (and a few already harvested), with good views of Mt Morai. I got to the small unmanned Kaize station at 5pm, fifteen minutes before the train arrived to take me back to Tokyo.

Caution: video features spiders!

Mt Morai with a banana hairstyle

Every year, I try to make at least one hiking trip to northeastern Japan. In 2020, I was able to visit the area several times thanks to the now discontinued JR East Welcome Rail Pass. On this first trip of the season, after climbing Mt Iwate on the first day, the next day I headed south to tackle the prefecture’s second highest peak. As on the previous day, I went by car, the only option, since the bus to the trailhead had already stopped running for the year. It was just as well because of the 4 trails leading to the summit, the ones from Kadoma and Kawaranobo were currently closed, and the one from Take was too long for a daytrip, meaning that a traverse of the mountain was out of the question. I was happy to go up and down the same trail, although I would have to be extra careful on the rocky section fitted with a long ladder just above the 5th station. The clear autumn weather was supposed to continue for another day, although strong wind and some clouds were expected in the afternoon. I was looking forward to seeing the great views from the summit, as well as catching the last of the autumn colours around the mountain base.

Hiking in the Hayachine Quasi-National Park 早池峰国定公園

Download a map of the Mt Hayachine Hike

This map was developed for Japanwilds with the Hokkaido Cartographer

Find more Japan hiking maps on Avenza

Looking westwards from the halfway point

Heading down in the afternoon

I left Morioka city just after sunrise on a cloudless day and arrived at the Kawaranobo (河原の坊) parking area a couple of hours later. The last few kilometers were along a narrow road surrounded by beautiful autumn colours; since it was a weekday, I met no other cars coming in the other direction. After getting ready, I walked up the road to Odagoe (小田越) and the start of the trail. I arrived there just on time to witness the removal of the portable toilets (see video), a strong hint that the hiking season was nearly at its end.

Hiking above the treeline

The ropes help the hikers stay on the trail

At 9h30, I stepped onto a wooden walkway leading into the forest in the heart of the Hayachine Quasi-National Park (早池峰国定公園). The path soon started to ascend; half an hour later, I emerged from the trees into an alpine landscape of rocks and ground-hugging creeping pine; turning around, I had a good view of Mt Yakushi (薬師岳), the other main peak of the quasi-national park. The path was easy to follow with good signposts, the sides roped off to prevent hikers from straying in case of a whiteout.

The biggest challenge: the long ladder!

More relaxed hiking close to the summit

I had impressive views of the long valley running east to west, thanks to the perfect weather and absence of trees. I reached the rocky area just before 11am and made my way carefully up the long metal ladder. Shortly after, I reached the the flat summit ridge. I turned left, and ten minutes later, I was standing on the top of Mt Hayachine (早池峰山 はやちねさん hayachine-san), a 100 famous mountain of Japan. Since it’s the highest peak in the whole area, I had a bird’s eye view of the mountains of Iwate prefecture in all directions. To the northwest, 50km away, I could make out the triangular outline of Mt Iwate.

View from next to the summit hut

The views were quite different on the way down

The wind had started to blow and low clouds rolled in overhead. After exploring the summit area, I found a sheltered spot to sit down for an early lunch. At 12h30, I headed back along the top ridge, and continued past the trail junction to a viewpoint on the east side, just beyond a rocky outcrop. I had a fantastic view of autumn colours below, occasionally lit up the sun, now playing hide and seek in the clouds. At 1pm, I started to head down the same way, once again tackling the ladder section with great care.

Climbing down with care

Mt Yakushi, opposite, is also part of the Hayachine quasi-national park

The views of the valley in the afternoon were even more impressive, although it was now mostly overcast; below the top ridge, the wind had abated and the conditions were ideal for a more leisurely pace. One hour after starting the descent, I reached the tree line, and I was back at my car before 3pm. On the way back, I made a brief stop to see the views of Hayachine lake (早池峰湖). I was back at Morioka by 5pm, and after returning the car, I hopped on the shinkansen for the two-ride back to Tokyo.

See the views from the top of Mt Hayachine

Hiking this Echigo Hundred Famous mountain turned out to be a very unusual experience. Since I had used the Tokyo Wide Pass to hike on Yatsugatake, I wanted to use it once more within the 3-day limit. An approaching typhoon meant rain for the entire Kanto region, but fortunately the Echigo mountains worked to hold back the clouds, and gave the Yuzawa area one extra day of sunny weather. I hadn’t really thought about climbing this mountain before, but it seemed like a good hike for the early autumn. Since there were four trails to the top, I first needed to decide my route. A little research showed that one trail had recently been closed due to typhoon damage, and two others required caution. Since it was my first visit, I decided to go up and down the remaining trail. Although it was physically demanding with a 1000 meter ascent, it seemed fairly straightforward. I had planned everything in detail, but there was one element I couldn’t have foreseen, and which nearly forced me to abandon my hike!

Hiking in the Echigo Mountains 越後山脈

View of Mt Makihata from the summit

I left rainy Tokyo by shinkansen and arrived in sunny Niigata less than an hour later. I transferred to the local Hokuhoku line – “hokuhoku” is an expression meaning chuckling to oneself- and got off at Shiozawa station about ten minutes away (this section isn’t covered by the Tokyo Wide Pass). From there it was a short taxi ride to the start of the trail near Kikoji Temple. The driver was very chatty and had many questions about air travel. At 9am, I was ready to hike. It took me only ten minutes to reach the first viewpoint next to a shelter. There were a couple of bells that one can ring to scare away bears; I gave one of them a good “gong”. The Niigata countryside, a patchwork of fields, was spread out beneath my feet. Turning around, I could see the top of today’s mountain and the long ridge leading to it. My starting point was only 300 meters high, and it felt quite warm under the early autumn sunshine.

The Niigata countryside

The hiking trail follows the left ridgeline

No sooner had I set off again, that I walked into a spiderweb. After clearing my face of the sticky thin threads, I turned around to see that my head had just missed its occupant, a “jorogumo” or golden orb-weaving spider. It reminded me of my hike on Mt Ashitaka last year. A few minutes later, I spotted another web across the path with a big golden spider at face level. I used a branch to gently break the web just below the spider and slipped under. A few meters further, there was another web. I repeated the procedure, but I couldn’t do it so well this time, and ended up breaking most of it, the owner making a quick escape onto a nearby branch. I was impressed with the sturdiness of their weavings – true feats of engineering! I kept the branch in hand, constantly waving it in front of me, in case I failed to spot a web, which happened occasionally in the shady sections.

The entire trail was well-maintained

The tunnel through the shrubs

From that point on, there were webs every few meters. The easy-to-walk path formed a tunnel through the shrubs which the spiders exploited to spin their traps; I had never seen so many of them before. If they weren’t strung across the path, they were hanging from the branches on each side and in the trees above. Keeping an eye out for the webs, as well as partly breaking and slipping under them, was time-consuming and energy sapping. As I would need to return the same way, anything I dodged on the way up, would be waiting for me on the way down. I had fallen behind schedule and needed to pick up the pace if I wanted to catch the last bus back. I switched to a two-stick double-chopping movement; this technique was tiring on the arms, but at least I was moving at a good pace again. It was like hacking one’s way through the jungle with a machete. I felt sorry for the spiders and their hard work, but eventually other hikers would be passing through, and the webs would be cleared anyway. I found it hardest when the path suddenly climbed steeply; I had to raise my head and arms at a sharp angle in order to keep clearing the path. A couple of times I heard a rustling noise near my feet, and saw a snake slither away; not only did I have to watch out for spiders but for snakes as well!

A spectacular view of Niigata

The route up this ridge is no longer in use

It took me 2 hours to reach the stone marker for the 5th station (“gogoume” 五合目) around 700m high and halfway up. I took a short break and had some food; I was drenched in sweat and my arms were starting to feel sore. There seemed to be no end to the spiderwebs. I couldn’t imagine doing this all the way to the summit, and then repeating it on the way down, since in the space of a few hours new webs would surely be spun. As I munched on my onigiri, I considered giving up. The good weather was holding and the summit was visible in front of me, so I decided to continue just a little further. From this point, the path entered into a forest of beech trees, and the spiders webs magically disappeared. I soon reached the 7th station surrounded by tall birch trees, the rustle of their leaves in the wind sounded like soft rain (see video at the end). The path then rose sharply, with some sections lined with ropes or chains. Thirty minutes later I reached a flat section with great views; I could now see the craggy top of Mt Hakkai to the North. I was above 1000 meters high, and all that was left to climb was the pyramidal summit. It was a long, steep slog but seemed easy compared to what I had endured lower down. At 12h30, the path leveled again and I had my first views of Mt Makihata. After one last scramble up a rocky outcrop, I was finally standing at the top of Mt Kinjo (金城山 きんじょうさん kinjousan).

Summit of Mt Kinjo

Highest point of Mt Kinjo

The surrounding views were astounding, mainly because of the 1000 meter height difference between the flat valley and the top. There were no high mountains westwards, and I had a bird’s eye view of Niigata prefecture. Looking East, I could see the massive bulks of the “Echigosanzan“, the three Echigo mountains, with dark clouds sitting on each summit. Southwards, I could make out the Tanigawa mountain range, half-hidden by the clouds. High altitude cirrus clouds were streaking across the sky from the South, a sure sign of rainy weather. I sat down for lunch, keeping a safe distance from the top of the cliff on the South side of the flat top. The summit marker doesn’t really mark the highest point. It’s another thirty-minute scramble along the ridge to a slightly higher spot among the trees and without a view, a little beyond the emergency hut; I decided to skip it. A few meters away, I found a rocky slab where I could lie down, close my eyes, and enjoy the warm sun and soft silence created by the absence of wind. I was alone, except for a pigeon, sitting on a nearby boulder, apparently also enjoying the panoramic views.

A close-up of the Joro spider

Can you spot the spider?

At 1h30 I headed down and since I knew that the trail was spider free till the 5th station, I moved as quickly as I could. One hour later, I was walking with a stick in front of me again. As I had expected, some webs had been rebuild, although by smaller spiders. Going downhill, I was walking at a straighter angle and I was hitting the higher webs. Despite my best efforts, I occasionally got tangled in them; it was hard to determine whether the web I was caught up in was connected to the spiders dangling nearby; once I stopped just a couple of centimeters short of a big yellow and black spider hanging in mid-air. Since I was keeping an eye out for arachnids, I also spotted other small creatures such as a praying mantis and a big grasshopper. I reached the bottom of the mountain at 4pm under cloudy skies. It took me 7 hours to go up and down, including a hour break at the top; it would have taken six if it hadn’t been for the spider webs. In all my climbs in Japan and around the world, I had never experienced such an exhausting battle to the top. Since the “Joro spider” is mostly active in the autumn, I guess it’s easier to climb this mountain in other seasons. It was a 15-minute walk to the bus stop which I reached with twenty minutes to spare. Unfortunately, the hot spring inside Echigo-Yuzawa station was already closed so I wasn’t able to wash away the cobwebs till I got back to Tokyo !

Listen to the sound of leaves rustling in the wind

Traditional Niigata architecture with Mt Kinjo in the background