A place I am from

Yasuoka, Nagano

Just enough daylight leaks onto me through the pines.  My still-sleeping mind knows the day is beginning, but this alone does not  wake me.  Like a dream, I hold onto the image of the blurred stars silhouetting faint peaks.

Something else stirs me. It is an undefinable feeling of presence.  No foreign sound cuts through the humming of insects and briskly flowing water, so the reason for my awareness is a mystery.  My feeling is confirmed, however, when I open my crusty eyes, flooding in daylight.  I see two more sets of eyes – young and curious – peering back.

“nan de koko de nete-iru no?”  The small girl asks, her face a little too close to mine.

“…Because it’s comfortable.” I reply back in Japanese, gathering my surroundings and getting over my surprise of the forwardness of these two little beings who have invaded my sleeping space.

Their innocent giggles make them slightly forgivable.  “Aren’t you worried about the caterpillars crawling on you?” The boy asks, continuing the unannounced interrogation. He must be about five years old.

“iiiii yo,” I half-yawn, half-groan my indifference for the caterpillars.

“She looks like a caterpillar, ” the boy’s older sister says as they give me a push.  “Imo-mushi, imo-mushi,” they chant between chuckles, as their small but determined hands swing me higher.  I realize that I probably do resemble a sort of giant larva, amidst my sleeping bag all bunched up.  The rope creaks as I sway from side to side.  Or a giant pupa, rather.

“sanagi da yo,” I grumble as a I pull the hammock flap over my face. This reference to a cocoon gets them giggling again though, and the swinging persists.   The rope securing my bed slips slightly against bark, and I think to scold, “be careful!”  It doesn’t come out, however.  It’s partly because I’m too tired to bother, and partly because I know my bottom hitting the sand and pebbles below will leave a more serious impression, and a lesson to be taught.  These mischievous little camper neighbors could certainly learn to be less nosy, but I leave it up to the rope and my hammock.

Wachinogawa Futase Campground, Anan

All of this – the children, and the hum and rush of the mountains – it was home I had not far from here. A place I am from.  Not my first hometown, but the first one I made in a different world.  A small village in the countryside of southern Nagano, it feels good to know.  It feels familiar, waking up.

Soon, I’ll be back among the several-story, rectangular mountains of the capital.  On the Tozai line, waiting, while the wail of a passing train drowns out any hints of cicadas in the distance.
I’ll stare at the blank faces across from me and wonder, what am I doing here?

Now and then, I’ll see another face which asks the same question.

Rock, paper, Ogawayama climbing

About three months after moving to rural Nagano in 2009, I made it out to my first Japanese crag.  On the Nagano-Yamaniashi border just south of Komoro in Kawakami Village, Ogawayama boasts over 20 different bouldering areas, sport and multi-pitch routes, and is one of the most famous crags in Honshu.

Finding Ogawayama the first time was tricky, but thanks to some helpful information here: http://www.ogawayama.com/ and here: http://www.ukclimbing.com/articles/page.php?id=264, and many patient locals, my husband and I found it at last.

From the small shop in the rustic Ryokan, 金峰山荘 (Kinopo-san or Mitakeyama? lodge), we purchased a book with a map of the boulders and routes on the rocks.  The shop also had crashpad rentals, which is always good to know.  After wandering aimlessly in the forest for a while and trying to get on some rocks that may or may not have had routes, we soon learned it was much more effective to ditch the map and follow the voices of other climbers.

In taking pictures of some boulderers on an impressive 1-kyuu (１級）level route (about V6), we made some friends and got some good advice on working the (easier levels of) Japanese slab.

There are plenty of grades starting from 9-kyuu (V0) and upwards, so there’s bound to be a route for everyone.  The Japanese scale, like in martial arts, counts down as levels increase, so anything between 10 and 6-kyuu is roughly V0.  V1 probably starts around 5-kyuu, V2 at 4-kyuu, and so on until 1-kyuu. Then, the first “dan” (pronounced sho-dan) is at about V7.  From there, the dans count up, with 2-dan, 3-dan, etc.  Learning kyuu = 級 and dan = 段 is helpful for reading the levels in the guidebooks.

Later, our new friends invited us to an event at the lower campground area.  It was just our luck that we found Ogawayama on the day of the “clean climbing” event.  Several area outdoor gear companies sponsored this event to encourage climbers to pick up trash in the forest.  At the end of the day, climbers and hikers gathered for some canned coffee, beer, and big pot of miso ton-jiru soup while awaiting a jenkan competition.  Jenkan is the Japanese game of rock, paper, scissors.

In an orderly fashion, some of the participants won t-shirts, backpacks, shoes, etc.  We had terrific luck that day, taking home a pair of North Face approach shoes and a fur-lined Inga hoodie.  Our new friend won a slackline, one of the bigger ticket items.

Ogawayama has been a spot we’ve returned to many times since.  Whether for some sport climbing, a grand mission with a multi-pitch team, bouldering with beginners, or even just friends who enjoy camping and hiking, the campground has provided for many great weekends with good company.

Even just a day trip there, with nothing but a crashpad and the guidebook on a lucky day-off mid-autumn is worth the trek.