Mt. Mitake

Continued from last post.

The next morning I awoke at 6 a.m. with a dry mouth and pounding headache. I had to get out of here. Anywhere but here. Fresh air would clear my mind, and hopefully erase last night’s episode.

An aging orange Chuo line train would lead me out of town. Actually, I technically wasn’t leaving metropolitan Tokyo, but was heading for a corner remote enough to wipe the bars off my cell phone.

I rode the train for two hours to the edge of my Japan Rail map. At Mitake Station I set out on a two-mile walk, some of it up a 15% grade. Nobody clued me into the bus service until it passed me. A six-minute cable car ride hoisted me up to 930 meters. After a 15-minute walk through a mountaintop village, I climbed 300 stairs to reach my destination: Musashi Mitake Shrine. A red X had replaced blue bars on my phone. I felt better already.

Here at this Edo-era shrine to the God of farming, I sat down and scribbled two pages of notes that evolved into the Dating Disaster blog. I capped the pen, and chugged a water. The cool mountain air buoyed my heavy heart. I had the day to myself, and was unreachable to the outside world.

Mount Mitake offered peace, quiet, and solitude. Although thanks to elementary school day-trippers, it was hard to feel alone. Packs of them in color-coded caps clambered up and down the stairs, pausing to raise thermoses of green tea to their lips.

I initiated konnichiwa greetings, and got high-pitched group responses. I’ll always remember the pudgy boy lagging behind. Sweat rolled off his face as he puttered down the stairs.

"Konnichiwa!” I said, breaking his concentration.

He looked up from the handrail and stared. “Who are you?” he sneered in Japanese. Kids are priceless.

The only good thing about the humidity was an excuse to spoon up kakigori, my favorite summertime treat. At a shop on the mountain I asked for green tea flavored shaved ice, which wasn’t on the menu. The only flavor I could make out was strawberry, so I settled for that. I relaxed at table with a panoramic view of the green valley below. I had just been hiking in the woods, where I sang to a captive audience of trees and rocks.

The friendly proprieter urged me to return again, and on my way out handed me seasonal brochures with the moutain ablaze in autum orange and spring’s pink cherry blossoms. So long as I don’t have any more dating disasters, I’ll relish this as my only visit.

For more scenes from Mitake-san, click here.