Wanting to hike in Kyoto, not fluent in reading Japanese maps, trail markers, or cell phone GPS, I found a group called Kansai Ramblers. I call a phone number. The next hike? Tomorrow.
Well organized, a group of about 30 uses a portable bearing sign. In English, a paper with a hand pointing directions is held by small rocks at forks in the trail.
“People were dropping like flies at the last hike along here.” I wonder about first aid. The July weather is not as bad as it could have been. A few people besides me are native English speakers. Every one talks a lot during hiking. I am not used to hiking with so many people who move so close to one another.
Distance pointer shows some 10 directions the viewpoint where we eat lunch.
Lunch rest. We brought lunches. Peanut butter and jelly for me, many box lunches among the others. A guy napped. This place name translates to "Tail of the Sword."
“Here is the summit,” a fellow American announces. The geological symbol is a concrete block about a cubic foot with a cross etched onto its top. Surprised, I thought the lunch spot was the top.
“It is good to hear the birds here,” the American tells me as we descend alongside a fence. “This is the Dioxin Dump site.” We are in a town called Nose, Japan, in northern Osaka.
“When was that?” I ask. “About 1997? I remember that Japanese friends went to a community meeting about dioxin near their home in Tokyo.”
“Right. There were compulsory citizen meetings.”
He asks three Japanese in Japanese, but nobody recalls the date.
There is a hot spring. About 4 pm, the ten of us who stayed for the onsen entered the building, paid the seven dollar fee, and went into the bath. The inside bath for women is crowded. I stand five minute wait. A cool bath and hot brown mineral bath inside, outside a clear hot pool. Nympaides.
Someone asks my name. “A man called from over there,” she says, indicating the other side of the bathing area hidden from sight.
Is someone signaling time to leave after less than 30 minutes?
I cannot identify any of the women with whom I hiked, and rather than staying for another round of baths, I exit the area and solicit help when I do not see any of my fellow hikers. A message is sent into the male and females bathers, who reply, yes, we are still here, see you in half an hour.
A train ride, a Chinese dinner, and one of the die-hard group buys a bag of ice cream
sticks for the train back into town.
The thorn on the Ninja Star Tree recalls--in shape and size-- a weapon thrown by a ferocious deadly band of warriors.
The gourd on a vine seems to snake along the ground.
Finally, the so-called gambling tree drops bark in large pieces, its exterior wealth peeling like throwing away money. If I understood correctly.
