Leaving Yamadera around lunch hour, I had ambitious plans to take three trains north toward the Mogami River to recreate Basho's own trip immortalized in the poem
五月雨をあつめて早し最上川
Gathering seawards
The summer rains, how swift it is!
Mogami River
(Keene)
Hourlong waits at each connecting station put a kibosh on those plans, so I counted myself lucky to arrive in Tsuruoka in time to catch a bus to the top of Mt. Haguro where I was staying at the Saikan shukubo (pilgrim's inn). This led to an unorthodox pilgrimage in which I had to walk down every one of Haguro's famed 2446 steps before I could turn around and begin a proper climb to the top. During my descent, I surprised a few elderly climbers who apparently assumed that I had beat them up the mountain that morning. Their friendly "konnichiwas" reminded me of the universal code among hikers to greet everyone you meet on the trail, and made me feel welcome a day after a boy had let out a shocked cry of "gaijin!" upon seeing a foreigner making a similar climb at Yamadera.
Although my main goal was to descend the mountain as quickly as possible so that I could savour a proper climb, two events stuck out. One was the rustle in the grass as a snake startled at the sight of me. Its short, slender body froze vertically on the embankment while I studied it. Realizing I wasn't a threat, it quickly disappeared into the forest. The second memorable event was the sight of a mother walking with her young daughter up the mountain, reminding her to stop and pray at every little shrine along the way. Her ponytail flopped every time she made an exaggerated bow. It was enough to put a smile on the face of even the sleepiest hiker.
The village at the base of the mountain is known for its traditional shukubo, so I took a quick look around before starting the climb. The stone in the foreground on the right is inscribed with poems Basho wrote while in the area.
At the base of the mountain lies one of the most incredible pagodas I saw in all my time in Japan. Rebuilt over six hundred years ago, it stands amongst the cedars as though it were a tree itself. The moisture of the forest seems to have also protected the pagoda from the ravages of fire that have laid waste to a number of important temples and shrines through the centuries.
Near the pagoda stands a living tree nearly as old, but just as grand. The rope tied around its base indicates that it is venerated in the Shinto tradition.
About half way up the mountain, there is a trail leading to the clearing where the abbot's residence was located in former times. This is the very site Basho wrote about participating in a haikai gathering. Only one poem composed at the event was included in the travelogue:
有難や雪をかほらす南谷
So holy a place--
The snow itself is scented
At Southern Valley.
(Keene)
One of the charms of Haguro-san is the rest station where green tea and Japanese sweets are served for a modest price. The view of the Shonai plain is peaceful, and the repast is as good as any you would find at a Kyoto temple. To my surprise, one of the attendants serving customers was the mother I had seen earlier in the day. Between our mixture of Japanese and English, I learned that she lived not far from me in Chiba, and was only in Haguro to visit her parents with her daughter. We laughed in disbelief at the slim odds of meeting so far away from our residences. The conversation had the added benefit of revealing that there was a certificate available to hikers who completed the climb to the top. She kindly arranged for me to receive one in advance, knowing that I had no choice but to reach the summit if I wanted to see my backpack again.
At the top, I was able to see the shrines of the Dewa Sanzan, including Gosaiden, with an impressive thatched roof over one metre thick. They were also able to inscribe my pilgrim's journal, and I learned about the yamabushi (mountain priests) who practice austerities in the region such as sleeping outdoors in small straw huts and bathing in cold waterfalls. Even though I am no lady's man (or maybe because I'm not), I couldn't help notice some of the young women selling charms at the shrine sneaking glances at me while I walked by. Obviously I was flattered, but didn't have the nerve to buy a charm as a pretence to start a conversation. In former times, women were forbidden from summiting the mountain, so they had to designate a male family member to throw a mirror in the pond to carry their prayers to the gods.
Comely shrine maidens,
I can't even look at you
When you watch me pass.
Next: Yudono-san
五月雨をあつめて早し最上川
Gathering seawards
The summer rains, how swift it is!
Mogami River
(Keene)
Although my main goal was to descend the mountain as quickly as possible so that I could savour a proper climb, two events stuck out. One was the rustle in the grass as a snake startled at the sight of me. Its short, slender body froze vertically on the embankment while I studied it. Realizing I wasn't a threat, it quickly disappeared into the forest. The second memorable event was the sight of a mother walking with her young daughter up the mountain, reminding her to stop and pray at every little shrine along the way. Her ponytail flopped every time she made an exaggerated bow. It was enough to put a smile on the face of even the sleepiest hiker.
At the base of the mountain lies one of the most incredible pagodas I saw in all my time in Japan. Rebuilt over six hundred years ago, it stands amongst the cedars as though it were a tree itself. The moisture of the forest seems to have also protected the pagoda from the ravages of fire that have laid waste to a number of important temples and shrines through the centuries.
Near the pagoda stands a living tree nearly as old, but just as grand. The rope tied around its base indicates that it is venerated in the Shinto tradition.
About half way up the mountain, there is a trail leading to the clearing where the abbot's residence was located in former times. This is the very site Basho wrote about participating in a haikai gathering. Only one poem composed at the event was included in the travelogue:有難や雪をかほらす南谷
So holy a place--
The snow itself is scented
At Southern Valley.
(Keene)
One of the charms of Haguro-san is the rest station where green tea and Japanese sweets are served for a modest price. The view of the Shonai plain is peaceful, and the repast is as good as any you would find at a Kyoto temple. To my surprise, one of the attendants serving customers was the mother I had seen earlier in the day. Between our mixture of Japanese and English, I learned that she lived not far from me in Chiba, and was only in Haguro to visit her parents with her daughter. We laughed in disbelief at the slim odds of meeting so far away from our residences. The conversation had the added benefit of revealing that there was a certificate available to hikers who completed the climb to the top. She kindly arranged for me to receive one in advance, knowing that I had no choice but to reach the summit if I wanted to see my backpack again.
At the top, I was able to see the shrines of the Dewa Sanzan, including Gosaiden, with an impressive thatched roof over one metre thick. They were also able to inscribe my pilgrim's journal, and I learned about the yamabushi (mountain priests) who practice austerities in the region such as sleeping outdoors in small straw huts and bathing in cold waterfalls. Even though I am no lady's man (or maybe because I'm not), I couldn't help notice some of the young women selling charms at the shrine sneaking glances at me while I walked by. Obviously I was flattered, but didn't have the nerve to buy a charm as a pretence to start a conversation. In former times, women were forbidden from summiting the mountain, so they had to designate a male family member to throw a mirror in the pond to carry their prayers to the gods.
Comely shrine maidens,I can't even look at you
When you watch me pass.
Next: Yudono-san
No comments:
Post a Comment
Comments are welcome in English and Japanese. I would love to hear from you.