Azuma Kofuji

Hola! Sorry it's been so long! I had a bit of writer's block there for a while...thanks for reading!

Azuma Kofuji

My coworker and I, decided to have some fun this weekend. I suggested we take a day trip to the mountains before everything is covered in 10 feet of snow. We decided on a destination known as Goshiki-numa, the 5 colored lakes. It is near the mountain called Azuma Kofuji, which is, by the way, an active volcano. Very exciting. We decided to meet at the bus station at 9:00am on Sunday in order to catch an early bus.

We met around 8:50, ate some breakfast at a café and bumbled over to the tourist information stand. After about 30 min of chatting through the thick language barrier, we realized that we had missed the early bus (9:10 am). The next bus would leave us with about an hour on the mountain, for $30. Definitely not worth it. We decided that poor planning at a late morning had gotten the best of us. We grimaced, at decided to meet the next day around 8:30. I went home to do laundry and read. Blah.

The next day, we met a bit earlier and didn’t waste any time finding our bus. It was quite easy, and we were soon aboard and making our way skyward. After the bus had departed, we were treated to the obligatory 10 minutes of information spoken over a loud speaker. The driver would trade off with a recording and tell us interesting and indecipherable tidbits about our journey. He was always sure to ask me and my traveling companion if we understood, which we certainly did not. He even went so far as to occasionally pull the bus over on the narrow strip of mountain road and force us to take a picture of some plant or shrine from the window. There were a few times when he would slow the bus considerably, point his finger out the window at a bare patch of dirt, or a shrub, and shout some information at the 6 passengers, always making sure to stare me down in the rearview mirror. He was quite a jolly fellow.

As we climbed higher and higher, my ears popped and the clouds became nearer. Soon it was clear to me that we would have to go through the cloud (officially making it fog). We had only driven about half of the allotted time, so I figured we must drive through and arrive above the cloud line. I was quite excited to picture a world inverted, with clouds below and blue above. I got my hopes up a bit too high.

We got above the first set of clouds and were treated to a brief period of blissfully foggy and surreal scenery. The green fuzz of the mountainside was just beginning to change into its autumn attire. Every here and there were patches of trees with the wildest shades of red orange and yellow I have ever seen. Clouds above and below swirled and changed from misty grey to puffy white, with the occasional break of white sunlight. We climbed a bit more and were soon inside another barrier of clouds….and the bus stopped.

The weather became nasty. It was downright diabolical. Not only did the weather look intimidating, but since we were on living mountain, there was the stench of sulfur vents. On the way up the mountain, we passed a few vents and could see the steam billowing out of the side of the mountain.

I could see that we had stopped near some type of tourist center, but even though the bus was in parking lot, I could barely make out the lights of the door through the fog. I stepped off the bus and was smacked in the face by sideways rain. I didn’t button my poncho and wind instantly blew it up around my face and ears. I was covered in water within seconds; tiny drops of mist and sideways rain. We ran inside and were greeted warmly. We bought a couple hot bottles of tea, sat down, and decided to make a game plan.

There were many factors against us having a good time. We were at the mercy of public transport. There were two busses back down the mountain, one departed in 1 hour, the other in 5 hours. If we missed the last bus, we both wouldn’t make it to work until late the next day. The weather was horrendous. We were both unprepared for such dire conditions.

We decided to have a go at braving the elements and were soon outside. We found ourselves walking on a raised, wooden trail over a marshy swamp dotted with red yellow and green and the occasional deep pool of crystal clear water. With the wind howling and the rain pounding us, I could barely take out my camera for a picture. The visibility was about 30 feet. The surreal colors of the swamp, the alien and terrain, and the awful conditions made me feel like Frodo Baggins. We walked around for about 40 minutes and ran back to the shelter.

We decided to give up. The next bus left in 10 minutes. We ran out to the parking lot and boarded…we exchanged looks of wasted money and wasted effort. Our hopes had been crushed. My camera bag was soaked. We had been on the mountain for an hour and ten minutes.

We sat on the bus as it idled and the heater began to warm my feet. I felt like failure. I could tell my traveling partner felt the same way…we traded a few glances. Suddenly, he was up and talking to the bus driver. He was asking about where the second bus would pick up from. I knew what he was thinking; I was thinking the same thing. We weren’t going to let a little weather ruin our day.

We got off the bus, into the rain with our heads held high. I dropped off my camera bag in the tourist office, which they were happy to watch, cinched up my poncho, and we were off into the mist.

We hiked back through the marsh, over the clear ponds and fuzzy calico grasses. We found a trail head and headed into the storm. I was quite warm, but my comfort was totally dependent on the paper thing poncho I decided to bring along instead of a proper waterproof jacket. Every now and then, it would snag on a tree branch and I would let a little more water in. We made it to a beautiful lake that was almost perfectly round. From our vantage point, we could see across the black water and up into and hill surrounding its other side. The green wall was dotted with bright orange and yellow trees. The clouds swept over the water and gave even the brightest trees a pale shade of grey. It was breathtaking. We hiked on.

We headed off toward a campground. (Sidenote: this being Japan, there was a map on a pedestal at every point that the trail diverged or changed directions. Super safe.) Just before the campground we came to a substantially large log cabin. We knocked, and entered. An old lady greeted us and we asked if they had tea or coffee. She pointed to the stairs that were outside. We stomped up the stair case, removed our shoes and rain gear and entered a nice little bed and breakfast style cabin. It was traditional Japanese, with tatami mats and futons, but also had the flavor of a log cabin in Alaska.

We were greeted by a few other hikers and sat down for some coffee. A furnace glowed away in the center of the room and I attempted to dry my socks and jeans by standing near it. It was fantastically rustic and cozy. An older lady, one of the hikers, spoke surprisingly good English and we ended up chatting with her for about an hour while drying ourselves. Me and my traveling partner decided that we would have to come stay a few nights at this most beautiful of cabins when the weather was a bit better. The going rate was about $80/night which included food. Not bad considering the surroundings and authenticity of the lodging. We said our good-byes and were back in the mist.

The rain had subsided and I was really wishing I had my camera. We made it back to the tourist place/bus stop and ate a hot bowl of soup. My camera bag was safe and sound, with a little note in Japanese taped to it that I’m guessing said “this bag belongs to the tall crazy soaking-wet gaijin”. We bought some gifts for the office coworkers (as is the custom here) and boarded the bus for Fukushima, home sweet (dry) home.

Azuma was indeed threatening us today, but we shall return, hopefully on a beautiful sunny autumn day. I hope to stay overnight in the cabin and I will take a million more pictures to share. As for the 5 colored lakes, they will have to wait for my return. I’m sure they were near, we probably just couldn’t see them through the fog.