Shimanami Kaido 2: 10% Grade, 99% Sucky

I yawned, the morning sun falling softly through the tent’s little plastic window.  It was warm this morning, and calm.  What a beautiful day today would be, I thought, unzipping the door, a day that GAH AGAIN!

I blinked, rubbed the sleep from my eyes with one hand while trying not to fall and crush my tent (and, uh, wife).

Oh.  It’s just a goat.  I’m still scared, actually.

We made off quickly in the morning, hoping not to disturb our host (whose name neither of us caught, but to be fair, he did talk extremely fast).  We had no idea of knowing if he was still inside the school -- indeed, if the party had even ended yet -- but we went with the age-old children’s wisdom that yes, teachers live at the school.  We left him a thank-you note and packed up our things quietly.

We took off across Oshima, pausing only for breakfast and second breakfast at the conbini just down the road.  Oshima sadly proved to be big vertically as well as by area; the entire island is split by one of several mountains, such that by the time we made it a scant six kilometers from the mysterious cram school, we were already ready for a break.  Fortunately, Mt. Karei Observatory Park was only 2.5 kilometers from the main road, and according to our map, this park had a campsite.  At last, a return to camping at campsites, we thought, setting up on a patch of dirt where we wouldn’t be afraid of offending the owner or being bothered by an axe murderer!

Why, just look at all the fun we're having!

We stocked up on provisions at a supermarket on the main road, the proprietress advising us where we could buy beer nearby, and also that camping was no fun without beer.  Truly, a land of ancient wisdom, Japan.  Ready for a couple of nights of camping, armed with beer, gyoza, and fresh pasta, we started up the road to the park.

Unfortunately, we found that 2.5 kilometers was an inaccurate gauge of the distance to the park, though perhaps it was more a vertical estimate than a horizontal one.  We quickly took to pushing, then to cursing, then to sitting.  After a time I went ahead, leaving Jenn to have a rest so I could come back for her once I’d left my bike at the top.  It didn’t take me too long to get to the park (in geological time, anyway), though it was unfortunate that all of my muscles went on strike before I could get back down to Jenn.  All said, it was a full day of pushing, perhaps 3 hours, before we got to the top.  Really, “Observatory Park” should have tipped us off.

The view was incredible, and the giant mural that played a warbly enka at random intervals fascinating.  Sakura were peppered all over the steep green slopes that look out over the nearby islands and the sweeping white bridges of the Kaido.  There were few visitors to the park that day, even though it was a Sunday, so we had the whole summit to ourselves, virtually.  Giddy with the view (and perhaps altitude sickness), we made ourselves a late lunch, then went to set up our tent on one of the narrow precipices that passed for a campground.  As there was no one manning the park office, we helped ourselves to the flattest green stairstep on the mountainside.  This is one of the greatest parts of camping in Japan: if it’s not in camping season, then the campsite is free!  Inasmuch as there is no one there to make you pay, anyway.  Typical for Japan, really; why would anyone go camping when it wasn’t the proper season for it?

While we set up, we left most of our things by a fire pit at the bottom of the stairs (I know, stairs at a campsite, why?).  By the time the tent was erected, an enormous crow had helped itself to some of our groceries.  “Hey!” I shouted, lurching down the steps, as the crow responded to my threat by doing absolutely nothing.  I got to the fire pit just in time to see the crow grab hold of a bagful of white bread and flap away, thus solving a week-old mystery and depriving us of valuable nutrients.  I couldn’t do much in retaliation but shake my fist and check the rest of our goods.

“Fuck!  That crow took our gyoza!” I shouted to Jenn.  Indeed, a package of premade dumplings the size of an abridged dictionary was utterly gone.  Strange portents, indeed.

The next day we decided to rest, and we passed our time happily on the mountaintop taking photos, writing, singing, and making elaborate meals, some of which were passed on to lower creatures with no hard feelings.  We had eaten nearly all of the groceries we brought up the mountain with us, and drank all the beer as well, but no matter, the grocery store was only an extremely short trip down the mountain, we thought as we went to sleep blissfully.

The following day we awoke to rain.  Like, rain-rain.  Some of the rainiest rain we had encountered, in fact, breaking occasionally only for fog.  We huddled in the tent for the day, trying to make our leftovers last as long as possible -- there was no way we’d be hurtling down a mountainside in this kind of weather.  We knit, tried not to think about food for the day, and played Tale of Tales’ brilliant game “The Path” on our laptop.  In retrospect, spending much of the day playing a spooky, atmospheric game about being lost in the woods wasn’t that bright of an idea whilst alone and trapped in actual spooky, atmospheric woods.  We fell asleep to troubling dreams of being stalked by wolf-sized crows and crow-sized wolves, awakening only to the PA system playing the Go To Sleep music and, much later, the Wake Up music.