I wasn’t the only one up for the early bus and on the trail head at 6AM. Early on I met two girls, in their mid twenties, and we exchanged a few words. But I had a mission, so I hiked on up ahead. I had to try to complete a 12 hour hike in 11 hours in order to catch the last bus into town.
According to Yakushima locals, it rains 35 days a month. Although not the best hiking weather, it is the constant rain that makes the island so special. Everything is covered in moss and the enormous twisting trees send you away to a place I thought only existed in fairy tales. I was in a real rain forest. So fantastic that it seems enchanted.
Even with the nonstop rain, somehow there is more forest than rain. Life sprouted from everything, from old stumps, around rocks and even from other living trees!
I hiked through ravines, over winding roots, rock paths and under thick canopies. These were the forests that inspired artists in the Japanese anime, Princess Mononoke.
The first half of the trail had many people, but the farther into the forest I went the less people were seen until it was only me and the deer. Anywhere else in the world, I may have feared an ambush by some wild animal. However, Yakushima is special in that the wild population mainly consists of deer, monkeys and an unaggressive poisonous snake.
After about 4 hours walking through Shiratani Unsuikyo it merged with the main trail that starts from Arakawa, the more popular trail to the Jomon-sugi. From here, the biggest obstacle was people. The trail itself followed an old rail road, which made the surface flat. It was about as difficult as walking on a sidewalk, except when trying to pass large groups of Japanese tourists flooding to see the ancient trees for Golden Week.
Upon reaching the end of the railroad, I headed up back into the mountains. First passing Wilson Stump, a giant stump that rivals the size of my living room, and also having a special feature resembling a heart.
Onward, up wooden stairs and rocky trails for another hour or two, I don’t know the actual time since my phone was destroyed by the rain shortly after Wilson Stump, I reached Jomon-sugi—the 7000 year old cedar tree. Or so people think it may be that old. Scientist speculate it can be anywhere between 2000 and 7000 years old. However, it is old. The tree isn’t dead, but the first thing I noticed was that the leaves didn’t look like cedar. They were normal green leaves. Then I realized, those leaves were not cedar leaves from the tree. They were trees growing out of the main tree and in order to see the cedar you had to look up through the strange symbiotic relationship to the highest tree top.
It was an amazing sight; however I wouldn’t consider it more amazing than what I had seen on my hike thus far. But if it is truly is 7000 years old, it is more or less to satisfy the imagination than to admire its beauty. Asking a fellow hiker, I learned it was 11:00. I was making good time. I decided to take a 30 minute break and eat some chocolate and a rice ball.
By the time I began my return trek, I was soaked. My Gortex pants meant nothing and my shoes were so wet I soon forgot the dampness. I would have been dryer if I was naked in a swimming pool.
After hiking for about 2 hours, I ran across the two girls I met at the beginning of the hike. I asked the time and they took a picture with me. Again we parted ways, since I was now on the return route. I was hoping that I would see them on the bus home so we could swap stories.
At about 1:30PM I re-entered the Shiratani trail. My muscles were fatigued and my feet were aching. To my guess, at around 3:00 my muscles were almost stopping. Honestly, I never felt my legs so tired in my life. It was as if they would soon just collapse. Every 15 minutes or so, I had to take a break for a couple minutes, otherwise it would have just been impossible. To my surprise I reached the end of the trail head at 4:00, 10 hours. An hour before planned. I grabbed the 4:10 bus and sat in what felt like the most comfortable seat in the world. The 30 minute ride restored strength to my legs, although they were still fatigued, nothing a hot Japanese bath couldn’t help.
I never met the two girls from the trail. However that evening I met another of my roommates, his name slips my mind but we ended up drinking Yakushima shochu (potato alcohol) late into the evening with a few other Japanese hikers which would become a ritual for the next couple nights.
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