I don’t know what I was thinking when I packed for this hike. Honestly, I had been rather distracted by things during the week, and as my friend Mr. S was planning this trek I just skimmed over the emails he sent and figured I would just let him lead. I didn’t really think of the season. I didn’t take a look at the recent weather report the night before. I didn’t even know exactly what Mr. S had found out and had told me. I just packed for a normal hike but left out the items I always bring just in case I need them and always end up bringing home unused.

The plan was that Mr. S would pick me up at a kindergarten after I was able to leave my post attending their sports day. Together with Mr. L we would drive off to Fukushima Prefecture and park the car at the trail head, and then hike a little way in to a shelter where we would spend Sunday night. The weather was warm and sunny in Saitama. We passed under clouds on the way to Mt. Iide, our destination mountain, but reached sun again once we drove up through the small villages tucked away in the mountain valleys leading up the steeper slopes of the Iide Asahi Range.

The first problem we realized was that I had understood we would be staying in lodges and huts. Mr. S had said that I would need my tent, just my sleeping bag and ground mat. I had expected those shelters to be like the ones I was used to in the Alps, where bedding and meals are provided. But I was told we had to bring our own meals and so a stop at the last 7/11 on the way was necessary. Once we reached the shelter I discovered that there were no provisions at all except for a room to stay in and some blankets to use in winter. There was no one there, no staff, no kitchen serving food. I had no sleeping bag and had to curl up in the blankets left on the premises.

Having heard the weather would be fine for our trip I didn’t prepare much for rainy weather except for a rain coat that is good for making short jaunts into poor weather. The next morning, however, it was raining and I had to do my best to protect myself. Apparently the weather forecast had changed a couple of days before our trip and I had failed to check. I had a cover for my pack, my rain jacket and spats to cover my ankles and hiking shoes. Starting out I was fine but the rain got worse and after four hours or so I was soaked through to my underwear and my shoes were squishing with water. Having accepted my fate I was not exactly miserable. I knew we would reach a shelter where I could take off my wet clothes and put on something dry. Maybe even the sun might come out.

Up on the ridge leading to Mt. Iide, the autumn colours were beautiful and we looked forward to a break in the weather. After almost seven hours we reached the second last shelter before the summit. Our plan was to continue on to the last shelter but the rain was so bad and the wind so strong we felt it was better just to stay in that shelter for the night and if the weather improved we could go on to the summit. I had only a fleece jacket and a drywear sport jacket to put on for dry clothes. The rain had eventually soaked through my pack and even my extra socks were soaked. Also, I discovered there was only one blanket in the whole shelter. How was I going to sleep that night? Mr. S lent me an extra cover for his sleeping bag – a very thin material indeed – and together with the blanket I had my bed for the night.

All night the wind battered the shelter and shook the walls and the rain continued to spray against the walls. Sleeping on the wooden floor was hard and it was only about 7 degrees in the shelter. I was either cold or my shoulders ached from the hard floor. Still, I accepted that was what I had to endure and I looked forward to a possibly fine morning and some great photo opportunities.

Morning saw an end to the rain but the wind raged even stronger. Clouds blew over the ridge and we often couldn’t see much. Occasionally the sun would peek out from a crack in the clouds and the brilliant autumn colours would light up for a brief moment. However, it was never long enough for us to get our cameras set up. The light always faded too soon.

The hike down was pleasant enough. The wind abated somewhat and the sun made guest appearances here and there, lighting up parts of the lower slopes. We never did get a view of the peak of Mt. Iide but we were able to grab some snaps with our digital cameras as we went down. Mr. S wanted to take a different route back down that would save us a little time. The route was steep and muddy and we all three took turns sliding on our butts. We all felt relieved once we reached the car again. Despite the weather conditions and the lack of decent photo opportunities I still enjoyed the hike. I’ll try to go back again someday and this time make sure I pack properly.

A word about Mr. L who is from Shanghai originally. He was 14 when the Cultural Revolution in China took place. When it was decided that children should not attend school but go out and learn about work and life on their own, Mr. L’s entire school (save for students of parents who begged to keep their children with them) was sent far north to a place near the Siberian border. There he had to build his own house from the trees that grew there and along with all the other students, he had to make his life. Winter days were short and deathly cold. Day light was from 10:30 to 1:30 during the shortest days and the temperature sometimes fell to minus forty. For all the city kids from Shanghai it was originally very exciting to go out and live in a small village in the wilderness. But it was a hard life.