Dashing Heights

I opened my eyes to another cloudy morning. I squinted hard out of the window and was horrified by the absence of Mt Shari. The clouds had once again asserted aerial superiority. Should I insist on ascending MT Shari, or find something else to do? Uncertain, I headed out to take a walk outside. Maybe after my walk the sky would turn into a pristine hiking weather!

I really wanted to make the climb up Mt Shari. But I did not want to go up in the curdling fog. Climbing a mountain is an arduous task, and logically speaking, a useless endeavour. You make a ton of preparations from settling the logistics, planning a trip to the said mountain, and actually crawl all the way up to the top – just to go back down again.

However people still do it. Why? I believe people have their reasons to. It could be accomplishment, pride, or even love. For me, it is the view at the peak. It is the sensation of being above the clouds. To be at the top of the world, grasping the enormity of it from above. It gives me a constant reminder of the greatness of creation. As long as I don’t puke down the peak again!

Alas, when I got down to the stairwell into the living room, the TV flashed the weather forecast for the day: Cloudy with a slight shower. It also predicted that this would be so for the next 2 days. I guess the view has to wait!

In the past week of sore weather, I have come upon an epiphany. I had been looking forward to this trip. So much so that I actually made a daily hourly schedule before I left for Tokyo. Of course as some of you have read, I haven’t been following the said schedule due to the weather and I haven’t been too happy about that.

However, in time I learned to be at peace with the weather. It isn’t really something I can control. What I can control though, is how I can make the best out of the day! After all, a cloudy day is a half-sunny day.

So in this half sunny morning, I took my stroll around the guest house and found a patch of strawberries ripe for the picking. I remember seeing a sign mentioning their existence, and saying that it’s free.

Now back in the house, with a fistful of juicy crimson berries, it was time for breakfast. I made some choco oats, tossed the strawberries in, and toasted some bread. It wasn’t just breakfast that I made with the berries; the surplus proved to be effective icebreakers. I got to chat with some fellow guests having their breakfast.

Whenever I share to the Japanese that I spent the last 3 days in Shiretoko in fog and rain, they would apologize to me; I knew it was their fault all along! Jokes aside, I think this just supports my Japanese stereotype – polite folks laden with mannerism.

After ruminating my oats and plans for the day, I settled on cycling. There’s a little shed in front housing a few bikes, with a sign on top “Bikes for loan”. I also found the map of the local area that suggested few places of interest.

It was my childhood dream come true. I’ve always dreamt of cycling in the midst of farm fields and there I was. Golden wheat bunches bouncing with the wind, dainty white buckwheat florettes, and the taste of fresh air.

It took quite a while to traverse the sinusoidal road on my bike. The roads were were so rigidly planned that they were in perfect grids despite the gradient. On the way I found one stretch of road – a good 20 metres drop along a perfectly straight lane.

In the face of the challenge ahead, I set my bike, readied my mind, and then I pushed. Down I went with great speed and acceleration. As I lost height I gained much speed. So much that I felt my legs turn into jellies. It felt like a rail-free roller coaster. Past the lowest point of the road, I began to lose speed and felt my legs returning to its original state. Now I had to fight the slope to get up the other side. It was a roller coaster which you have to lug the cart up the hill yourself.

Finally I reached my first stop – Baa-Lamb bakery. I was wondering how they got that name. Do they sell mutton bread? Maybe their breads are in the shape of a sheep? I found out the answer when I saw what was in their backyard. They have pet lambs casually grazing there! I found that they have a cat too, who was quite a poser. Why did they not name the bakery Meow-Cat bakery then?

It was a unique experience having a cup of coffee while listening to a flock of lambs bleating in the background. The coffee I had was served with sheep’s milk, making it fattier and creamier, fantastic stuff. The bread was meeh. Just kidding! It was pretty decent.
Next I was going to head towards Ryuin Soba noodle shop. However the road I was going to turn into was under repair. Just before I made detour I took another look at the tourism brochure I found in the morning. From the brochure, I found that the shop only opens 11 am to 2 pm, and closes on Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Since it was already 2,30pm, I did not even need to take a detour. Oh and it was actually a Friday. How do you sustain a shop that only operates 3 hours a day and closes half the week? Life is pretty slow in the countryside eh?

So instead of soba, I cycled onward toward Koshimizu where there lies a famed Lily park.