When you visit a town like Kyoto, a city renowned for its incredible variety of Buddhist temples, you can tell where they are going to be just by looking for the mountains around the town. Whenever possible, Japanese holy places are nestled in the base of mountains, which makes sense because, as everyone knows, mountains are where the spirits hang out.
The lush grounds of the premiere temples are usually expansive and covered in spacey temples and shrines. But they were also way too crowded for my taste. So, I followed the lesson I learned at my first big temple in Shizuoka. I would spend about an hour walking through the mesmerizing complex of grand pagodas and stellar shrines and then head for higher ground. And sure enough, I always found a network of trails leading straight up into a dense forest filled with laughing crows. I was home! Just like I am sure the priests and wannabes felt too when they entered the magic green kingdom of nature.
I read several books written by British expats before my visit to Japan and they all agreed that the only way to really appreciate the full grandeur of a Buddhist temple was to look at it from above. And they were definitely right.
The climb into the mountains would initially begin with some moss-covered steps and sheer stone paths ascending into the mist. It was eerily quiet — almost primeval — and I never saw another soul during any of my hikes. But the thing I always liked the best were the weird rock pile shrines with flowers and strange offerings that almost made me shiver. It was like walking through First Earth.
When I got to the top there were rarely any shrines, but there were goofy signs warning hikers to be on the lookout for wild pigs. I never spotted one.
I usually tried to hang out on the mountain top, checking our the spectacular views until dark, which made the hike back down a bit tricky because the path was near-vertical and slippery. Given the absence of any other hikers, a fall would have spelled disaster.
When I got back down to the bottom and walked into the now-lighted shrine park, it always felt like I was walking into Disneyland. I felt vaguely like an intruder.
One particular hike stands out that I did above the Heian Shrine in Kyoto.
I took an insanely steep trail framed by a captivating cemetery and small spooky shrines up to the the Saint Dojo hermit cave by a ceremonial bathing waterfall in the rocks. Then I ascended a near-vertical path up into the clouds, through a fern forest and an area where many of the large trees had recently blown down during Typhoon Jebi . It looked like a giant had come through and just bashed the trees aside; they were scattered across the landscape like dead soldiers. The air still smelled of fresh sap and it was like walking through a graveyard. Eventually the path crested the mountain and the path intersected with the Kyoto Trail which I walked for about a mile before turning back.
And herein lies another lesson I learned, hiking in the Southwest. The Kyoto Trail was wide and flat, and well-maintained. But where did it go? Amazingly, I still had a strong Internet signal, so I Googled the trail and discovered that it was a world famous 82-mile route that encircled Kyoto and Lake Biwa, running along the ridge lines. But I couldn’t find any trail maps and I didn’t know how I would get back down into town from it. If I stayed on the trail it might lead me into oblivion. So, even though it was tempting as hell to stay on the super highway trail, I did the smart thing and turned around and found the little trail I had previously taken to the top. At least I knew that slippery path would lead me home.
When I got back to the waterfall I was soaking wet with sweat. There was a goofy sign warning people not to bath in the nude, but I am a heathen and there was no one around, so I stripped down and let the chilly, bone-pounding waters of the stream cleanse my body and mind.
After returning to the temple it felt, as always, like I was entering Limboland. It was time to drink some beer. So, I headed through the back streets to my ryokan.
And when I got back to the Kyoto Inn Gion it was starting to rain, I popped a cold, big boy Asahi draft beer and before compiling my daily notes I checked my phone and discovered that I had walked 8 miles and 56 floors! Just another sweet day in paradise.
