Could it Be?

All the time I've been in Tokyo the one thing I've been lamenting about, pining over, alas yearning for, besides Triscuits and See's candies, is a place nearby, where I can go hiking.  Well, I finally found it.  It's called Mt. Takao.  A couple of people mentioned it to me and after some research I decided to make it a project for Russell and I to do last weekend.

Those of you who know Russell, or read about him, know he's not a big hiker.  Generally I can get him to brave the outdoors for about an hour, any more usually requires bribery.  There's only been one time I witnessed Russell hiking in earnest.  It's my favorite Russell hiking story (there are so many).  We were in Great Sequoia National park for a friends 50th birthday RV extravaganza.  The entire group, all six of us, hiked to a waterfall a couple miles away. As usual Russell brought up the rear, lollygagging the entire way.  That is, until we saw the bears.  Yeah, as in plural.  There were four bears gathered indiscriminately around the waterfall.   Two blond bears (until then I didn't know bears could be blond) were foraging in the bushes below, a black bear was on a rock that jutted above the trail and the fourth was on a precipice over looking the fall.  We discovered them all within a few minutes of arriving at the fall.  I've never seen Russell hike so fast in my life.  He was practically running out of there, leading the charge, leaving the rest of us in the dust.

And that's not even the funny part.  The funny part was back at camp we realized the reason there were so many bears around was because the whole area was covered with berry bushes.  The bears were eating the berries.  Suddenly it got very quiet as we all realized that during a portion of the hike we were actually surrounded by those berry bushes and most likely a lot of bears.  

The great thing about Mt. Takao is that it's less than an hour from Tokyo and the train delivers you right to the trailhead.  The bad thing is, two of the trails are actually made of concrete.  The point was to escape the concrete.  There's a quaint shopping street just in front of the station that sells snacks and has several soba restaurants.  We ate at one and frankly, it was some of the best soba we've had.

Trail map right as you get out of the train station.

They have brochures in English as well.

Pretty garden along the path up to the chair lift

Pretty spider hanging overhead.

This spider was the size of a baby mouse.

This picture does not do it justice.

No joke - scary.

Shopping street leading up to the main entrance to the mountain.

The place where we had lunch, resplendent with plastic food displays.

My delicious lunch, tempura and cold soba noodles.

Yum!

Chair lift station at base of mountain.

Because we left the house late and therefore didn't get to Mt. Takao and done with lunch till after 2p, we decided to take the chair lift half way up the mountain instead of hiking up as we intended to do.  The first thing that struck me about the chair lift was - there are no seat belts.  No seat belts!  Yikes.  Clearly, unlike America where citizens can sue because the hot coffee they bought was too hot, Japan has no issues with liability.  I have to admit, even though there was a safety net for the more precipitous drops, I was still nervous.  But the happy school kids coming down from the top seemed completely unfazed as they passed by, two by two, swinging their legs and chirping "hallow" to us.

View from the chair lift going up the mountain.

Note the "danger" sign.  Sheeyeah!

View into the forrest from the chair.

I really wanted to see some monkeys - darn it.

The view was great from the top of the chair lift.  I think Russell was ready to turn around then but of course I insisted we climb the rest of the way up.  No not the roadway, there was a roadway that curved up the mountain in a gentle arc, we had to take the stairway.  Even I was groaning when we got to the top of it and I suggested it.  The shrine was another thousand steps up so Russell decided to "check his email for an important message he was expecting."  Uh huh. 

View from the top of the chair lift looking out over Tokyo

Zoomed in.

Can we go now?

The path to the shrine was lined with ancient cedar trees.

It looked like the Redwood forest.

Oh no, why take the gently sloped road when we can climb these?

My bad.

The climb was worth it.  The temple was like three in one, each beautiful in their own way.  One was grand and ornate, one had sandals all over it, and one had a hundred little kitties adorning it.  Someday I'll learn what that all means.  I took pictures.  I clamored down the steps, hoping to infect Russell with my enthusiasm.  I was able to convince him to take one of the trails up to the summit.  This one actually had dirt on it.  It was more like a fire road than a trail.  We looped around the priests house, for a second sure we were lost, until we encountered a woman who confirmed we were on the right path.  When she told us it would take 40 to 50 minutes to reach the summit I winced, thinking Russell would say no.  But instead he quietly began marching up the hill, without complaint or negotiation.

Gate to the temple.

To ward off evil spirits.  

Do they have one of these to ward off evil calories?

I love how all the temple fountains have their own unique designs.

Somebody needs to do a coffee table book on this.

Ornate temple.

The other temples.

What up with all the cats?

This looks brand new.

It only took us 30 minutes to get to the top and what do you think was there when we arrived? Why an ice cream stand of course.  Isn't every mountain top paved and adorned with an ice cream shop?  I was a little disappointed at first until I saw the view of the rest of the mountain range sprawling from the observation deck.  It was like a masterpiece.  Swallows exalted in the hot air rising above the valley below, their cheerful silhouettes dancing in front of the looming blue ridges of the mountains, the colors graduating from a light blue mist to sapphire.  It was breathtaking.

Naturally occurring ice cream stand. 

Very rare.

We made it to 599 meters - 1,965 feet.

Kind of like climbing Signal Hill.

View towards Mt. Fuji.

Swallows dancing in the wind.

Not a concrete slab in sight.

Not all was buried under concrete.  I learned from the handy map prominently posted, there were more mountain tops to conquer.   The paths that lead to them were dirt.  They will be mine, oh yes, they will be mine.

Dirt trail leading to the next mountain top.

I might actually need hiking boots for this.

We took another way down. This one was partially paved, partially dirt, but mostly stairs.  The good news was it lead us back by the temples Russell had missed.  I was glad he got to see them and the snake I almost stepped on during the dirt portion.  Snake!!!! Yeah, I actually encountered nature.  It was the highlight of my day.  I know, I'm weird.

But happy...

Can you believe I almost stepped on this?

You can't tell from the picture but this was a baby snake,

merely a foot long.  But it looks monstrous here, right?

Clearly designed for gaijin.

For information on Mt. Takao, including trains go to:  http://www.japan-guide.com/e/e3029.html

So Sumo Me

Oh My God! I gasped at witnessing my first sumo match.  Ouch! I wasn't prepared for how surprisingly violent the bouts are - short, they last less than a minute, - but violent.  The sound of flesh slapping against more flesh, actually a lot of flesh, is enough to make you cringe.  But it's strangely mesmerizing, like watching a car crash but without the messy insurance aftermath.

Russell and I went to the next to the last day of the Grand Sumo Tournament. They have six a year but only three in Tokyo.  It was fun.  Russell thought it was kind of like the Hollywood Bowl.  You sit around, you drink, you eat, and oh, by the way, there's entertainment too.  You can even get a box where they'll bring you food and drinks - just like the bowl.  There may not be any fireworks but there's a lot of rituals, like throwing salt into the dirt ring to cleanse it and guys dressed in ornate kimonos with fans.  Oh wait - those are the referees.

The tournament started at 8am in the morning but we were told the best matches are held in the afternoon.  So we showed up just in time for the ring entering ceremony or dohyo-iri for the highest ranked wrestlers - the Makuuchi and the Yokozuna (i.e. Grand Champions).  Like everything in Japan, Sumo is very hierarchical.   Earlier in the day the lower ranking bouts of Jonokuci, Majushita and Juryo wrestling took place.  The hierarchy is complicated but distinguished.

Wrestlers began filtering into the stadium wearing brightly colored aprons which covered their fronts and left the wedgie side exposed. "Hey, they're wearing skirts, actually they're called kesho-mawashi.  We gotta get you one of those Russell, or at the very least (get it?) the thong thing, called a mawashi.  Maybe later you wear that," I said with a mischievous smile.  His look indicated he wasn't amused as he took another drag of sake.

We both had a chicken bowl, which we attacked with our chopsticks.  It consisted of rice, pickled radish, seaweed strips and chunks of yakitori chicken and chicken meatballs including the bone cartilage.  The food was great.  I wonder if they have any of those squid snacks?  The indoor stadium was draped with pictures of the past grand champions, kind of like the retired jerseys seen in American stadiums.  Our seats were decent. We had a great view of the dohyo or ring.

Before each bout the wrestlers perform a ritual including clapping, leg stomping (to drive evil spirits away), staring and squatting, aka posturing.  After which they exit the ring and get a drink of water from a wooden cup and a cold towel - then they re-enter the ring and after a couple more squats and stare downs...it's on!

It was interesting to watch the different styles.  Some would attack quickly, trying to surprise their opponent, while others would literally pick their opponent up and toss them out of the ring.  Occasionally there would be a stalemate, two wrestlers grasping each other with all their might, the tension building with each second passing  You could feel the strain. Sometimes when you thought the bout was won, a sudden shift would produce a surprise slip or fall and the bout would be over.   The rules are easy.  You have to get the other guy to fall down or out of the ring.

Unlike boxing there aren't any weight divisions.  So you'd see guys twice as big as their opponent and not all of them are Japanese.  In fact there was one guy who must be pretty good because he was in the second highest division who was clearly caucasian and not fat.  He looked like a body builder, not a sumo wrestler.  Oddly the diaper looked more indecent on him than it did on the larger, more rotund fighter.  I thought this fight ought to be interesting.  It was over quickly.  The big man took him out.

In America, little boys dream of growing up to be baseball players.  In Japan, do they dream of being Sumo wrestlers? After reading up on the subject, I doubt it.  For one, these guys get paid less than $30,000 USD a year.  Sure their food and board are paid for but it's a strict household.  Actually they call them stables.  All except the highest ranking wrestlers have to wear a yukata (cotton kimono), even in Winter, and uncomfortable wooden sandals which make a racket when they walk so you can spot them anywhere.

It's a life filled with discipline and ritual and hazing - kind of like a fraternity.  The younger, less experienced guys have to wait on the older ones.  But I guess it must have great perks when you become a champion.  The sake - the women - the sponsors - the usual.

The bouts got more exciting and the crowd louder and more rowdy as the evening went on.  The wrestlers fight in ranked order, lowest to highest.   Soon it was the final bout between the champion and the challenger.  It was actually the best bout of the day and it lasted for about two minutes.  In the end the champion won, again.

Exiting was easy.  Unlike American sporting events which generally take hours to get to and away from.
Twenty minutes after the last bout we were on a train speeding towards home.  But only after we walked by all of the souvenir stands.  Yes, you too can have your very own cookie or chocolate bar with the likeness of your favorite sumo champion.  I asked Russell if he needed anything.  He said no.

But I still think I need to get Russell one of those thongs.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sumo

Sumo stadium or Ryogoku Kokugikan.  They've been wresting here since 1909.

In the background, on the left, is the sky tree, the recently completed highest structure in Japan.

Nobori banners, like war banners.  

I thought they were advertising.

Lower ranked Sumo wrestlers exiting the tournament.

Yeah, you probably don't want to tease these guys about their outfits.

There were hoards of people with cameras waiting for them to pass by.

Entrance to the Sumo Hall.

Other side.

Shrine within the Sumo courtyard.

Hospitality Hall of Sponsors waiting to give their paid patrons gift bags.

I want a gift bag.

Grand champion trophy

View from our seats.

The guy in the ornate kimono is the ref.

I gotta see Russell in this outfit.

The fight.

Makuuchi Ceremonial entrance.  Nice aprons.

Yokozuna Grand Champion entrance.

This guy gets to come in by himself, attended only by

his lower ranking stable mates.

Final bout.

These banners actually are advertising.

The Japanese Grand Champion took out the white guy.

At the end of the night they do a little stick dance.

I stand corrected - it's a bow dance (yumitori-shiki).

Tower with guys heralding the end of the tourney for the day.

Basically guys drumming.

No, I'm not going to put on a diaper.  

I don't care what you promise.