Amazing the power a good story can have. This entire mountain region was developed around a story of a Japanese clan on the loosing side of a battle, who decided to seek refuge from their pursuers in these difficult mountains in aspirations of regaining enough future strength to change the decision of the feud. That day never came. Yet still hotels and a few small businesses, not many homes, have sprung into action along these ways, to keep the spirit of resistance and honor in survival alive. And here we awoke, to the legend before us, with the survival instinct in our side.
Our tents facing the river bank. To the left (out of shot) falls the water that I fell asleep to. The sound of the water falling to the rocks below was enough to fool me a few times in my sleep to imagine that the night sky had brought clouds and rains.
Not the healthiest of breakfasts, nothing of champions. Peanut butter and chocolate sauce with animal crackers, a few bananas, and some water. The sugar is well welcomed, and although we will work off the cookie carbs, we would be better suited to eat healthier. At a time like this, you really just have to do the best with what it is you have.
One of the other famous sites to see in these parts is an old style Japanese house. Kyle and I shrugged at the option, we had both seen old houses before in Japan. But, somewhere going 60km/h downhill we changed our minds.
Some barking dogs welcomed us unkindly but we continued on anyways. A sign read at the entrance of the stairs leading to the house "550¥ for adult." We weren't going to go in, until we a second sign that translated loosely as, "we're not open yet, go on up." So we did. And atop the stairs leading to the old house, I found some happy flowers that occupied my attention more than the building we had come to see.
These flowers too, reveling in the mountain mist, were a little droopy but none the less beautiful.
Inside the house, we found a small museum of sorts. Again, there was no one around, so we let ourselves in. A major no-no in another country, but in Japan if your heart is in the right place, then so is your presence (most of the time).
The sign above this exhibit reads つば or "tsuba." Can you guess what they are? Indeed they are hand guards placed between the handle and the blade of a sword, much like a katana would equip. Each is hand made, iron cast, and designed specific to the blacksmith's aesthetic.
Next up are some old accounting devices. You'll quickly identify the abacus, glasses, record book, and appointing brush. Our tools might be slightly different today, but the idea is still as essential.
And of course, what would any big point of seeing an old house in Japan be for if not to show off any authentic samurai armor. This set might not be as sexy and polished as a one paraded around first rate museums, but the marvel of this piece is in its authenticity. More often than not we find sets of armor more akin to this style. Used, battered, dusty, and carried down through the generations long past the time or age one might need the armor, kept in an old rickety house.
Although the river banks tend to be lined with sakura trees, there sometimes appears a patch of these trees. This particular patch seemed untouched and unkept. Perhaps it was unplanned, and the trees naturally took over the area; how amazing would that be.
Continuing further down the side mountain that we found to be extremely easy yet enjoyable, we made our way into the Ehime prefecture, the biggest of Shikoku. The literal translation summing up to something along "beautiful woman/princess."
Among the pink and white Sakura, there are also very neon pink plum trees (?) and some other red flowered tree (seen in the back). There really is nothing else like them.
When we climbed out from the northern end of the Shikoku valley, which was no small feat, we landed safely in northern flats just south of the Japanese sea and the predominant Japanese isle, Honsu. One last climb for the day, I took a quick rest and crossed lanes to sneak a risky photo as cars zoomed down past me. The danger was well worth the moment used to appreciate the mountains Kyle and I had the craziness to want to cycle across, and the scenic view given as a reward.
We rolled our bikes down this path into a final sunset, the road and timing of the sun just peaking over the trees as if to guid us home, could not be more perfectly timed.
A sunset for the night. The sky seemed somehow larger than it normally does at dusk, I'm sure the breadth of clouds and colors aided the scope of just how tiny everything else is in comparison.
How cool was this sunset; a big red star disappears behind some clouds but not before tinting the sky in its electromagnetic dye. Reminds me so much of the poster art for Apocalypse Now.
We still had a little energy after pitching our tents, and had another issue too. You see, Kyle is on a schedule of sorts, and we needed to reevaluate the trip route to figure a rough sketch now that we had a little time.
Composition wise, I love the color and imagery of this photo.
We spotted this local "stand and drink" pub, a locals intimate tavern where you had better not be too tired to enjoy a cold beer while standing and talking with the working folk. We did just that, and although we were hoping for a table to plan out the rest of the trip, we eventually got around to that too. After a few beers.
With a new plan and a forecast for rain tomorrow, we headed back to camp, exhausted. The mountains were tough, and we haven't had a real rest day as of yet. Tomorrow looks to be easy, but only to avoid the rain if we can. Buenas noches.
Love,
-A
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