"Enjoy tackling difficult tasks" (2)

Continued: how Nakamura Teru paved the way to winter climbing and economic independence for women.

In the hardscrabble years after the war’s end, Nakamura translated school textbooks for the occupying forces, and also worked as an interpreter for a US Army court. In 1949, she became a legal and political advisor for the Kantо̄ Civil Affairs Division, but soon resigned. As Japan’s economy revived, the business world was again beckoning.

Nakamura Teru (l.) leads a women's expedition to New Zealand in 1961.
Image from the interview by Ogura Nobuko (in the driver's seat).

 
In the early 1950s, she joined LaBelle, Japan’s first lingerie manufacturer. Soon afterwards, her eye was caught by a magazine article about a fashion institute that was part of the City University of New York. Writing directly to the course directors, she was accepted for a six-month management course but “became so engrossed” that she ended up studying sales promotion and design as well, spending two years abroad. “I think my husband's understanding made that possible,” she later said 

After returning to Japan, she became a fashion advisor and designer for three companies, and also started her own company, Duchess, to sell lingerie of her own design. 

On the summit of Mt Sealy in 1961.
Image from the interview by Ogura Nobuko.

And she kept climbing. Sometimes, she was the first woman to climb certain Japanese peaks. In 1961 (aged 57), she led an all-women's expedition to New Zealand, comprising mainly “old girls” of the Waseda University Mountaineering Club. Over about five months, the five women climbed Mounts Sealy and Walter in the South Island, as well as Egmont and Ruapehu in the North Island. They were warmly welcomed, and played a role in promoting goodwill between the Japanese and Kiwi mountaineering communities.

On the summit of Mt Damfool in 1961.
Image from the interview by Ogura Nobuko.

In 1970, Nakamura’s husband Nobuhiko passed away from cancer. Deeply affected by her loss, she was also involved in a traffic accident. “However, after recovering, I began to live life positively again,” she later recalled. In 1979 (at 75 years old), she went trekking in Nepal for three months, and after returning to Japan, published a book explaining how anybody could follow her example. In 1988, now aged 84, she was an advisor to an expedition to the Indian Himalaya but, starting to feel her limitations, decided it was time to give up mountaineering. 

Visiting Ed Hillary in New Zealand, 1961.

The following year, in 1989, she accepted an offer to take care of Japanese exchange students in Adelaide, sold her house in Hayama and moved to Australia alone. After living there for 10 years, she returned to Japan in 1999 and died in 2009 at the age of 104.

One March, a few years before Nakamura passed away, two of her climbing companions from the New Zealand trip came to visit her at her care home in Yokosuka. One of them, Ogura Nobuko, later wrote up Nakamura’s reminiscences in an online interview on which this post has heavily relied. This is how Ogura-san concludes: 

In late March, when we heard that the cherry blossoms were blooming earlier than usual, I met with Tо̄ya Keiko, a member of our group, at Zushi Station … We talked with Nakamura-san in the lounge on the third floor. For a 101-year-old, her eyesight, hearing, and mental acuity were all excellent, and I could sense the dignified spirit of someone who had lived life so positively. Even now, she enjoys flower arranging and calligraphy, and she reads English and Japanese newspapers every day. She is interested in social issues and cares about young people these days. In the early Showa era, amidst societal discrimination against women, she learned English, became a successful professional woman, and climbed mountains despite various hardships, paving the way as a pioneer in many fields. She was a remarkably calm and quiet person, yet possessed an incredible vitality that seemed to be hidden within her. During the visit, [those of us] who had been with her on the New Zealand expedition, shared our memories. We mentioned how she had been a strict but supportive mentor, pushing us to become truly international figures … It was a day that truly reinforced her constant messages: "Enjoy tackling difficult tasks, because anyone can do easy ones," and "If you truly want to do something, you can usually accomplish it." 

References

Kawasaki Yoshimitsu, Yama to Keikoku illustrated history of Japanese mountaineering (目で見る日本登山史), Yama to Keikoku-sha, 2005. 

Miyashita Keizо̄, Nihon Arupusu: Mitate no Bunkashi, Misuzu Shobо̄, 1997.

Ogura Nobuko,* “元気に100歳 本気でやれば、何でもできる 101歳の人生記録”, downloaded April 2016. 

*Ogura Nobuko (b. 1932) was a member of the New Zealand expedition led by Nakamura Teru in 1961. In her student days, she was a member of the Waseda University Mountaineering Club – the first woman ever to join the much-storied association. In 1975, inspired perhaps by Nakamura’s example, she founded a mountaineering club, the Shiran-kai (“purple orchid society”), primarily for women in their 60s and 70s. The club’s premise is that hiking keeps you young. To that end – and to provide mental stimulation – Shirankai members take it in turns to organize and lead hikes. “Once you have this experience, you naturally develop empathy and consideration for others, as well as independence and judgment skills,” Ogura-san says. 

More about the Shiran-kai (Japanese language)

"Enjoy tackling difficult tasks” (1)

How Nakamura Teru paved the way to winter climbing and economic independence for women.

But how could we have forgotten Nakamura Teru? In Yamakei’s illustrated history of Japanese mountaineering, there she stands, flanked by two companions, every bit as tall and confident as the president of Japan’s first climbing club for women should be. The photo was probably taken a few years after she made her name as the first woman to scale Mt Fuji in mid-winter.

Nakamura Teru (centre) at the Iwabara ski resort, early Showa era.
Image by courtesy of the Yamakei illustrated history of Japanese mountaineering. 

She topped out on Japan’s highest mountain on New Year’s Day in the second year of Shо̄wa (1927), after starting from Gotemba on the previous day. As was her usual practice in the mountains, she climbed not with men friends – which she thought improper – but escorted by a professional guide and “gо̄riki” (porters). On the party’s return, journalists were waiting for her at the mountain’s foot.

Nakamura Teru and her guides at a shrine before climbing Mt Fuji.
Image by courtesy of the Yamakei illustrated history of Japanese mountaineering. 

The year of her Fuji climb helps to explain why Nakamura’s achievements might be missed, at least in a too casual sweep of Japan’s mountaineering history. Her climbing days came a decade or so after those of the Taishо̄-era “otenba” (tomboys) yet too soon to profit from the social freedoms gained by the post-war generations. So she was born too late to be a mountain pioneer, like Murai Yoneko, but too early to be a Himalayan mama-san, on the lines of Tabei Junko.

But she did pave the way towards economic independence for women. Indeed, she had little choice in the matter. After Teru was born in 1904 in Yūbari, Hokkaido, her father’s mining business failed and her mother moved the family first to Kitakata in Fukushima, where Teru started primary school, and then Tokyo. Since they got no financial support from Nakamura’s father, her mother started a small boarding house while making kimonos, helped by her daughter after school hours.

Nevertheless, Teru managed to start learning English at an early age – unusual in those days – and later attended a typing school to learn English typing. These skills led to a job with a trading company, where her salary soon exceeded that of a university graduate. After work, she went to the Young Women’s Christian Association (YWCA) to learn English shorthand. She also became a Christian around this time. Later she moved to the Ford Motor Company subsidiary in Japan, where she worked for almost a decade and a half.

Nakamura Teru at Matsumoto station after a ski trip.
Image by courtesy of the Yamakei illustrated history of Japanese mountaineering. 

Nakamura started mountaineering in the early 1920s, and climbed Mt Fuji when she was 22. The following year, she went back and made her famous winter ascent. As she said in an interview much later:

Anyone can climb Mt Fuji in the summer, but I really wanted to challenge myself by climbing it in winter. If I want to do something, I can't hold back; I immediately think, "Let's try it, whether I can do it or not!" Winter mountaineering is a battle against the snow. More important than reaching the summit is dedicating yourself wholeheartedly to the mountain itself. Because I was the first woman to do it, I gained a lot of attention, and even received an offer from a film company.

Climbing with guides and porters would take Nakamura only so far. In 1931, she helped to found what was probably Japan’s first mountaineering club for women, the Tokyo YMCA Sangaku-kai. After a decade in which the club typically carried out two or three long traverses in the northern or southern Japan Alps every year, the club formally ceased to exist during the second world war. But its former members continued to meet up for many years afterwards.

Members of the YMCA mountaineering club on Kaikoma in 1932.
Image by courtesy of the Yamakei illustrated history of Japanese mountaineering. 

As for Nakamura herself, she kept on climbing in winter – and writing about it too. The cultural historian Miyashita Keizо̄ quotes from an article she wrote for the mountaineering magazine Tozan to Ski in 1933 about a trip to the Ushiro-Tateyama range:

I sometimes gain a sense of peace even from the bitter north wind that whirls up the powder snow and buffets my body, just as if it were a zephyr from Botticelli. For what better raiment can the mountains have than snow. Like Eloise’s wedding robe, snow evokes a sense of solitude, while in the moonlight it recalls the chilly beauty of Ophelia's winter weeds.

At the age of 33 Nakamura donned a wedding robe herself, changing her name to Satо̄, and leaving her job at Ford Japan. “I married relatively late, but that was because I loved my job and due to family circumstances,” she said in a post-war interview. Her husband’s work took them to Pusan in Korea yet Teru’s English skills were not left to languish – at one point during the war, she was asked to work as a spy....

(Continued)

Mountaineering in Greater Japan (5): "offers fine sport"

Concluded: Walter Weston's guide to alpine activities across the Empire during the 1930s.

Like its adopted parent, Japan, Korea – now known as Chosen – is a land of mountains. Few of its ranges present, from the technical point of view, serious climbing problems to the mountaineer, and from the point of view of altitude they are not imposing. The highest is the peak known to the Koreans as Faik-tu-san, and to the Japanese as Haku-to-san, i.e. "The White-topped Mountain." and its altitude is some 9,000 feet. The ascent of it was made by Sir Francis Younghusband in 1886 without difficulty. It stands on the Manchurian border of Korea, but presents little interest from the climbing point of view.

Insupong (Korea): a granite formation.
Original image and title from The Lonsdale Library Mountaineering.

In spite of the low altitudes, some fine rock-peaks, mostly granite, from 2,000 to 6,000 feet, are to be found in various parts of the country and these mostly afford quite difficult climbing. The best-known group is Kongo San, the "Diamond Mountains," rising about the middle of the north-east coast, comprising an area of about 10 miles square with granite summits ranging up to 5,500 feet. They are famed, among both Japanese and Koreans, for their scenic beauty. The best periods for climbing are spring and autumn and the group is readily accessible by rail and motor-car from Keijo (Seoul), the capital, in less than a day. Keijo itself is on the main railway line from Peking to Japan, and about thirty-six hours by rail and sea from the Japan ports, or about half that time by air. The peaks of Umi Kongo, those nearest the coast, afford the best scrambling. Shusenho (4,450 feet) has several summits, each providing an excellent day’s work.

Climbing of equal excellence can be obtained within a few miles of Seoul, though the heights here are lower. Insupong, a fine, almost egg-shaped peak (2,800 feet), and Bankeidai, the same height with three main summits, offer fine sport. Five miles farther north of Seoul lies Manjoho (2,000 feet), a gigantic tooth offering several routes, all difficult. This is reached by half an hour's motor drive followed by one and a half hour's walk; the ascent is a difficult face climb needing great care. Rather lower but of even greater interest is Goho, the Five Brothers, two of whose five rocky summits are crowned with cube-shaped monoliths probably not yet ascended.

These granite battlemented ridges and towers of Korea in many cases resemble the finest parts of the granite cliffs of Cornwall south of the Land’s End, though much higher. There are no guides available, though stout coolies can usually be obtained as companions to the feet of the rocks themselves. The chief, perhaps sole, European authority is Mr. C. H. Archer, of the British Consulate-General in Seoul, from whom, or from his successor, information and advice would be always willingly afforded. From the headquarters of the Japanese Alpine Club in Tokyo, introductions will generally be furnished to members living in Seoul.

Formosa

The island of Formosa, now known to the Japanese as Taiwan, lies about 500 miles south of Japan proper and some 100 miles east from the coast of China. It is 240 miles long and its greatest breadth is about 80 miles. While its western half and a narrow strip on the south-east are flat and fertile, nearly the whole of the remainder of the island is mountainous and covered with dense forests. It contains at least five of the highest peaks of the Japanese Empire. Of these the loftiest, formerly known to Europeans as Mount Morrison, is Niitaka (12,960 feet), “the new high mountain,” in contradistinction to Fuji-san, hitherto, as its name implies, the highest in Japan. Next comes Tsugitaka, or “next high” (12,897 feet). It was previously entitled Mount Sylvia. 

Most of the others are still unknown to the Western world, and some are virgin peaks. As a result of the activities of the Formosan Mountaineering Club, however, new routes are being continually opened up, and it is to the officials of that Club, whose present headquarters are to be found in the Imperial Government Building in Taihoku, the capital, in the extreme north of the island, that intending mountaineers should apply for information. They can be relied upon for every assistance.

It is the dense forests of Formosa that render these peaks difficult of access, while the deep and precipitous valleys by which on the east coast they are approached constitute a further obstacle. Police paths are being constructed, where needed, in every direction, and some of these are wonderful feats of engineering; they are notably in connection with the remarkable East Coast Road.

The “‘timber-line” is approximately 12,000 feet. There is very little snow usually to be found on them, though a certain amount lies on Tsugitaka in ordinary seasons. The best months for climbing are (1) November and (2) May. Owing to the heavy rainfall frequently experienced, some of the police paths, and police posts, and even portions of the great East Coast Road, are liable to damage. Modifications of the following routes may therefore occasionally have to be made, but the Formosa Mountaineering Club, already referred to, will usually be able to help with the latest information, while the police authorities themselves are always courteous and obliging to properly accredited visitors.

It is essential, however, that at least one member of any party of mountaineers should be able to speak English.

Niitaka (12,960 feet) was first ascended in 1896 by Dr. S. Honda and a party of Forestry officials. There are no “technical” climbing difficulties and only the final 2,000 feet require any effort. The two most usual routes are from the north-west, the first (a) lying mainly up a tributary of the Dokusui River, and the latter (b) by the well-known Ari-San light railway, which brings down the timber from the forests of that name.

(a) From the station of Nisui, on the west coast railway, about 100 miles south of Taihoku, a branch line eastwards takes one to the small town of Suiriko in two hours. Then a timber trolley-line mounts in some ten hours to the police post of Tompo, 22 miles distant, at the foot of Niitaka (7,000 feet) and 4,000 feet above sea-level. Hence the road ascends by easy gradients for 14 miles, up a fine valley, to the police post of Hatsūkan, on a shoulder of the mountain. From here it is 2 miles farther on to the police post of Niitaka, from which the summit rises westwards and is gained without difficulty.

The top consists of a rocky platform some 30 feet long on which stands a triangulation post, a small concrete shrine in honour of the Spirit of the Mountains, and a brass indication dial. Four rocky buttresses fall to N., S., E., and W. respectively, on some of which excellent rock-climbing can be found.

The descent by the Ari-San route leads via the police post of Niitaka and that of Taataka 7 miles lower down, together with a journey of some two hours on the Ari-San light railway to the station of Kagi on the west coast main line, about two hours north of Tainan, the southern capital of Formosa.

With the ascent of Niitaka can be combined those of Shūkōran (12,577 feet) and Maborasu (12,487 feet), starting from the police post of Shūkōran, at a height of 9,700 feet. The former will occupy about four hours to the top, and is tedious rather than difficult, but when Maborasu is also included, it may be necessary to bivouac on the saddle between the two peaks before the descent to the police post.

A more interesting region, and one less familiar to Western mountaineers, is that lying to the north-east of the Niitaka group. It has the additional advantage of affording in its approaches the opportunity of seeing something of the wonderful East Coast Cliffs, amongst the most remarkable of their kind in existence. The chief summit of this group is Mount Tsugitaka, “the second highest peak” in the Empire.

Leaving Taihoku early in the morning by the East Coast Railway one goes southward to Ratō and then changes into the light railway serving the extensive forestry works on Mount Taiheizan. This ends at the hot spring of Doba, an excellent stopping-place for the first night.

The next day, with porters obtained here, one mounts to the police post of Pyanansha, and then on the third day to the post of Shikayau at the base of Tsugitaka, over a pass of 6,000 feet. Beyond the summit of the pass stands the police post of Pyanan Ambu with a small shop under police supervision. From Shikayau the route traverses a deep ravine, and finally mounts a tributary of this to the Tsugitaka hut for the night. From here the remaining 2,000 feet to the summit of the mountain, first up the steep rocky bed of a torrent and then over the creeping pine that clothes the slopes. The summit consists of two peaks about a mile apart at either end of a long ridge. To the south it falls away in a series of huge precipices. To the north it stretches in a long serrated ridge of some 5 miles before turning to the east, where it culminates in the peak of Momoyama (11,123 feet). Here another ridge branches to the north-west and ends in the striking peak of Daihenzan (11,722 feet), which affords an interesting climb. More snow is usually found on Tsugitaka than on others of the Formosan mountains yet climbed. With the ascent of Daihasenzan can be combined that of Hapanarau (12,250 feet), now better known by a native name, Shimita, recently adopted by the Formosan Mountaineering Club. A night would have to be spent on the main Tsugitaka ridge on the way.

Descending to the police post of Pyanan Ambu, after two more bivouacs in the open, it is three hours to the police post of Pyanan, which lies 25 miles inland from the East Coast Road.

Between Pyanan and the coast rises a fine range of which Nankotai and Chuosen are the loftiest summits, both well over 12,000 feet.

Nankotaisan (12,460 feet): From Pyanan a climb of 4,000 feet leads to the “savage” hunters’ hut on the lower slopes of Nankotai, a convenient night’s resting-place. Another day is usually needed for the remainder of the ascent to the top, traversing: en route the subsidiary peak of Koshi (12,052 feet). From here one looks across the narrow entrance of a fine amphitheatre to the final arête of Nankotai. There is now a choice of routes to the highest point (12,460 feet), either round the rim of the amphitheatre itself or by descending a long slope of rough scree to its “floor” and then up by the rocks of the opposite side. The upper part of Nankotai is remarkable for the extraordinary quantities of Alpine rhododendrons.

Chuosenzan (12,190 feet): From the camp above-mentioned a long descent leads to the police post of Pyahau (not to be confused with Pyanan already mentioned). Hence a walk of 30 miles along mountain paths takes one down to Sendan, a route remarkable for its evidences of the thoroughness of the manner in which Japan is developing the primitive ‘‘savage’’ population of “‘head-hunters” and their neighbours. Travellers are handed on from one police post to the next. Some of the coastal scenery in the lower part of the descent from Sendan to Kenkai, actually on the East Coast Road, is very striking.

The Road itself is a remarkable feat of engineering, much of it running along the face of cliffs that rise sheer from the sea to a height of 7,000-8,000 feet. At present it links the railway terminus of Suwo in the north with that of Karenko in the south, and is traversed by very efficient services of motor-buses along a distance of some 54 miles.

From Kenkai, at the mouth of the River Takkiri, a motor ride of two miles leads to the police post at the entrance to the Takkiri gorge, up which the first part of the ascent is made, and which is here spanned by a suspension bridge some 450 feet in length. The gorge itself is wild and impressive in the extreme, particularly beyond the police post of Batakan, where a narrow track is hewn out of the face of a precipice 2,000 feet above the stream, with an almost sheer wall of rock stretching 1,500 feet above. The first halting-place for the night is at the important and extensive police post of Tabito (where a kindly welcome is to be counted upon) 16 miles from the entrance to the gorge. The next stage is an easy one of 10 miles up to Tausai, the police post at the base of Chuo-senzan, whence an ascent of some eight hours, through forest, pasture land, and rock of varying degrees of soundness, lands one on the summit by way of a ridge about 2,500 feet in height. Rhododendrons are again seen in profusion near the top of Chuosenzan, as on Nankotai-san.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Japan

Rev. Walter Weston, A.C., 1st Honorary Member of the Japanese Alpine Club, Mountaineering and Exploration in the Japanese Alps (Murray, 1896).

Rev. Walter Weston, The Playground of the Far East (Murray, 1918).

Rev. W. H. Murray Walton, M.A., Scrambles in Japan and Formosa.

Formosa

Papers and notes in the Journal of the Japanese Alpine Club (Nihon Sangaku); and in the Journal of the Formosa Mountaineering Club (Imperial Government Buildings, Taihoku, Formosa).

Paper by Rev. W. H. Murray Walton, M.A., in the Journal of the Royal Geographical Society, June 1933.

Korea

The Alpine Journal, 43, No. 242, May 1931: “Some Climbs in Korea,” by C. H. Archer (illustrated).

References

From Walter Weston's chapter on “Korea”, in Sydney Spencer (editor), Mountaineering: The Lonsdale Library Volume XVIII, London: Seeley Service & Co, 1934.

Mountaineering in Japan (4): "beyond the power of human legs to climb"

Continued: Walter Weston's guide to alpine activities in Japan during the 1930s.

THE SOUTHERN JAPANESE ALPS: Of the Southern Japanese Alps an early local geographer once wrote that "It is the mountainous regions in Japan, for these mountains are beyond the power of human legs to climb."

The most interesting expeditions are more conveniently made from the important town of Kōfu, capital of the province of Kōshu or Kai, lying in the mountain-encircled plain north of Fuji-san.

The granite pinnacles of Ho-wo-zan.
Illustration from Walter Weston, The Playground of the Far East.

Komagatake: Of these, Komagatake (9,600 feet) is sometimes styled the Eastern to distinguish it from the one rising between the valleys of the Tenryū-gawa and the Kiso-gawa farther west.

It is best ascended from the village of Daigahara, near the station of Hinobaru on the line running north from Kōfu. The summit can be reached in about nine to ten hours via the shrine of Maemiya and the huts at the foot of the granite crags of Byōbu-iwa (7,800 feet). On the ascent fine granite cliffs rise above deep gorges on the north and east.

An interesting alternative descent can be made to the west by a gap in the serrated ridge of Nokogiri-yama, into the ravine of the Kuro-kawa-gawa, the hamlet of Todai, and the little town of Takato; thence to Tatsuno on the railway near the head of the Tenryū-gawa valley.

Two of the most noteworthy are Hō-wō-zan ("Phoenix-mountain") (9,550 feet), and Kita-dake, formerly known as Kaigane (10,474 feet), the most northerly of the three peaks of the Shirane-san of Kōshu and second highest summit, next to Fuji-san, in Japan proper. Some ten miles west of Kōfu, across the river-intersected plain, at Kajikazawa, "guides" or porters are usually obtainable.

Hō-wō-zan: A short day's journey by way of the hamlet of Ashiyasu, or the Iwashita onsen, westwards, mainly very steep going and partly along the high ridge of the Kariyasu-tōge, leads to the Tsui-tate-tōge. Higher up northeastwards comes the Ōmuro, a good camping place, with clear spring water at hand. About three hours from here by way of the serrated ridge of Jizō-dake, c 9,600 feet), the foot of the pyramidal pile of granite rocks is reached from which the twin monoliths of Hō-wō-zan rise. The summit of this miniature Aiguille du Géant, some 70 or 80 feet, involves a very hard piece of climbing, and has seldom been achieved. Chamois are sometimes seen here.

Kita-dake: This fine peak involves a descent of some 3,000 feet from the Tsui-tate-tōge to the bed of the Norokawa torrent and a very rough scramble up its course for four hours to the huts of Hiro-kawara, at 5,500 feet on the left bank. Hence to the top of Kita-dake one crosses over to the right bank and a steep scramble follow of six to seven hours, through undergrowth, forest trees, and creeping pine to the summit ridge, 10,000 feet. Here we turn south, the highest point rising to the left. An alternative descent can be made: along the ridge south over the peaks of Ai-no-take (10,464 feet) (hut near here) and Nōdori (9,928 feet); thence down to Daimonzawa (hut), on through the Hiro-kōchi ravine, descending to the hamlet of Narada and the onsen of Nishiyama. From here the station of Kajikazawa on the edge of the Kofu plain is accessible by a walk of 20 miles. Here begins the descent to the sea, by boat, of the rapids of the famous river Fujikawa, the voyage of seven or eight hours ending at the town of Iwabuchi, on the Tokaidō railway near the south-west foot of Fuji-San.

Senjō-dake (9,950 feet): From the huts of the Hirogawara camping place, at the east foot of Kita-dake, in the romantic Norokawa glen, the ascent of Senjō-dake can be made, following the course of the torrent north and then west for some five hours to the hut (6,500 feet) at the south base of the mountains. The climb is an easy one of three to four hours, and many varieties of Alpine flower abound. From the hut a torrent valley scramble east and then north leads ultimately to the top of the Kitazawa-tōge pass (7,200 feet), between the provinces of Kōshu and Shinshu. A descent of two hours hence gains the valley of the Kurokawa (or Tōdai) gawa, and so joins the route down the west side of Komagatake already mentioned.

Akaishi-san (10,237 feet) is the western outpost of the Southern Japanese Alps towards the valley of the Tenryū-gawa. Its natural starting-point is the large village of Ōkawara, standing near the junction of its two tributaries, the Mibukawa and the Koshibu-gawa. It can be reached either from lida on the Ina line, or from Tatsuno on the central railway, and Takatō.

A few miles south of Ōkawara lies the Koshibu onsen, and beyond this the route passes through the gorge of the headwaters of the Koshibu-gawa before turning east to climb the steep and rocky tree-clad shoulder of the mountain. The main arête is gained about eight to nine hours from the onsen, and another hour along it brings one to the highest point, with an astonishing prospect. There is a hut, besides some fair sites for a bivouac below the top, and from these can be made other ascents, or mountain mass may be crossed in two or three days into the valley of the Hayakawa and the Kōfu plain near Kajikazawa. Several huts stand at intervals along the route.

References

From Walter Weston's chapter on “Japan”, in Sydney Spencer (editor), Mountaineering: The Lonsdale Library Volume XVIII, London: Seeley Service & Co, 1934.

Mountaineering in Japan (3): "the Zermatt of Japan"

Continued: Walter Weston's guide to alpine activities in Japan during the 1930s.

THE NORTHERN JAPANESE ALPS: This group may best be treated along a line, east of the main range, running south from the neighbourhood of Itoigawa on the Sea of Japan down to Matsumoto, a distance of about 50 miles. The two places are in process of being linked up by Government and private railways. Matsumoto, at the south end, is easily reached from Tokyo, either by way of Hachioji, Kōfu, Shiwojiri, or by the line through Karuisawa, Shinonoi, and Akashina.

Snow crevasse on Hakuba.
Illustration from Walter Weston, The Playground of the Far East.

Ō Renge ("the Great Lotus Peak"), virtually synonymous with Hakuba, or more correctly, Shirouma (9,622 feet), is most conveniently climbed from Yotsuya, a village which is the head- quarters of a guides' association, as are also Ōmachi, Nakabusa, and Shimajima further south. Motor-buses run between Akashina and Yotsuya and some miles beyond. There is a good inn, the Yamakiya, at Yotsuya and several huts at various points on the ascent, including two on the summit. The climb offers no difficulties, but in most seasons good glissades are feasible on the descent, as there is usually a considerable amount of snow. The mountain slopes are famous for the abundance and variety of Alpine flowers. The ascent will occupy about four hours from the hut at the base, and with it can be combined that of Shakushidake and Kashima Yari on the true right bank of the main snow-field.

A very remarkable prospect, in every direction, is gained from the summit. The descent will gain in variety if the mountain is traversed by way of the Ōike, with its club-hut (7,500 feet), and the quaint hot springs of Renge-onsen, about 4,900 feet. The valley of the Himekawa is reached in three or four hours from the onsen at a point some 15 miles north of Yotsuya. From Yotsuya the light railway can be taken 15 miles southwards to Ōmachi, the starting point for the famous pass of the Harinoki-tōge (8,120 feet) which links this valley of the Himekawa with the west coast of Japan after passing over the important mountain mass of the Tateyama range. Next to the ascent of Shirouma, already described, and some climbs from Kamikōchi a little to the south, it is one of the most popular expeditions in the Japanese Alps. Ōmachi itself can also be reached by motor-bus from Akashina, on the main line from Karuisawa. The large and comfortable inn, the Taizan-kwan, has a landlord who is a mountaineer and skier of skill and wide experience. From Ōmachi to the summit of the Harinoki-tōge is a distance of about 17 miles, and though the route presents no mountaineering difficulties, it is of much interest on account of the scenery through which it passes.

A very short day takes one to the Osawa hut (about 5,500 feet) at the foot of the great snow-slope leading to the top of the pass, gained from here in about two hours, the angle of the upper part being about 40°.

Harinokidake: From the spacious hut on the pass the fine peak of Harinokidake (9,254 feet) is reached in one and a half hours, with a striking view of the Tateyama range and the wild gorge of the Kurobe-gawa. A direct descent to the river in four or five hours from the pass leads to a light suspension bridge beyond which are the huts of the Kurobe-daira (c. 4,600 feet). Good trout are to be taken here, the Japanese iwana (Salmo pluvialis).

In a short day's march from here, by way of the Kariyasu-tōge (6,211 feet) and the Zaragoe (7,720 feet) one can reach the famous and interesting spa of Tateyama Onsen (4,150 feet). A track leads from the west side of the Kariyasu-tōge to the hut on the Goshiki-ga-hara plateau,"the rainbow-hued moorland," one of the two or three most noted homes of the Alpine flowers of Japan.

Reaching Zaragoe in three hours from Kurobe-daira huts, a route to the north traverses, in about two hours more, the undulating ridge that culminates in the famous sacred peak of Tateyama (9,944 feet). From the Gohonsha, the summit shrine, a wonderful view in every direction is gained. A descent of 1,200 feet on the west leads to the pilgrims’ huts known as Murodō, close to which stand a Meteorological Observatory and a station of the Imperial Forestry Bureau.

From here a descent may be made over the plateau of Mida-ga-hara south-west to Tateyama Onsen in three to four hours; or via Ashikura to the city of Toyama by road and rail in a day and a half. There are several huts available on either route.

Tsurugi: From the top of Tateyama northwards a route leads to the climbers' hut at the base of the fine snow and rock peak of Tsurugi (9,836 feet), over Masago and Bessan. The whole climb from Kurobe-daira to the Tsurugi hut takes about ten to twelve hours. Tsurugi itself is one of the most Alpine of all the higher mountains in the Japanese Alps and involves a climb over interesting rocks and snow-slopes of some five to six hours from the hut to the col between Tsurugagozen and the final rather steep arête that leads to the summit. It is possible then to descend by a very rough and sometimes arduous route, at first by very long snow-fields, into the valley of the Kurobe-gawa and to the sea on the west coast railway. Several interesting onsen are met with in the lower reaches of the river.

An interesting starting-point for some expeditions south of Ōmachi and the Harinoki-tōge is Nakabusa Onsen, easily reached from the station of Azumi-Oiwake about midway between Ōmachi and Matsumoto. The onsen is very popular as a health resort and as a climbing centre, and there are many huts in the region. The valley of Nakabusa itself is very attractive, and is some eight miles in length from its actual entrance at the hamlet of Miyashiro with its splendid and ancient shrine.

Among the (granite) peaks easily accessible, all affording splendid views are Ariake-san (7,500 feet), two to three hours the onsen, and Tsubakuro (9,500 feet). From the hut near the base of the latter a track goes south along the ridge culminating in the summit of Ōtenjō (9,600 feet), near which is a hut. To the east of this ridge lies the fine peak of Jōnendake (9,600 feet), with a hut on its shoulder at 8,000 feet, also accessible from Kamikōchi.

A traverse of the south arête of Ōtenjō leads down ultimately to the Ninomata glen and the Yarisawa ravine. Various huts stand here and along the route up to Yari-ga-take (10,432 feet), the best-known of all the peaks of Alpine Japan. From the Yarisawa hut here it is a climb of about three hours or less to the summit. The Ninomata glen is the ultimate source of the beautiful river Adzusa-gawa, on the banks of which stands the "Zermatt" of Japan, Kamikōchi, at the foot of Hodaka-Yama.

A scramble of three to four hours from the onsen leads to the top of Kasumi-dake (8,600 feet, a granite mountain with couloirs and pinnacles of considerable interest to rock-climbers.

A route up Yari-ga-take, alternative to the one already mentioned, lies on the right bank of the Adzusa-gawa as far as the wild gorge Yoko-ō-dani. Up this a very rough scramble leads over the O-bami ridge and descends to the lower slopes of Yari, in about ten hours. In addition to the huts referred to, at the base of the mountain, there are several at about 9,000 feet, with one on the shoulder, about 10,000 feet. From here it is a 300-feet climb by broken rocks up the "spear" (yari) of the peak to the top (10,432 feet). On the west flank of the peak a striking "aiguille" juts out and affords an excellent scramble of 100 feet, for which some skill and a rope are needed.

Another interesting route up the upper portion of the main peak leads from the couloir at the head of the Takase-gawa on the north-east, which is reached from the hut Sessho-goya, 9,500 feet, over a sharp ridge to the (north) right of the hut.

The hot springs at Kamikochi.
Illustration from Walter Weston, The Playground of the Far East.

Kamikōchi (5,000 feet) lies in an open vale, on the right bank of the Adzusa-gawa. It can be reached from Matsumoto: (1) by a light electric railway running west in 30 minutes to the Alpine village of Shimajima, the centre of a Guides Association, at the entrance to a picturesque glen leading to the well-known pass of the Tokugo-tōge (7,100 feet) —a walk of seven to eight hours to the onsen of Kamikōchi. A hut stands on the top of the pass. (2) By a motor road from Shimajima to the onsen of Nakanoyu, by the banks of the Adzusa-gawa, and thence six miles walk, or a motor drive.

The village of Shimajima.
Illustration from Walter Weston, The Playground of the Far East.

Several large Japanese inns are here, of various sizes, while many students bivouac by the river-side during the summer months.

From here Yakedake (8,500 feet), a good example of a volcano, active quite recently, can be ascended in two to three hours. At its foot lies the Taisho lake, formed in 1915 by an eruption from several craters of rocks and mud that dammed up the waters of the Adzusa-gawa. Near this is also the small lake of Tashiro-ko, while at the foot of Hodaka-yama is the secluded mere of Myōjin-ike, well stocked with trout.

Oku Hodaka: Kamikōchi is the starting-point for the ascent of Oku Hodaka (10,466 feet), the highest granite peak in Japan. It may be climbed by the route which ascends the broad scree leading up the Shirasawa ravine, the upper part of which is a snow slope often ending in a bergschrund. Here at 8,000 feet we leave it for a steep rock buttress for two hours. The broken rocks beyond now ease off and the top is reached in about six hours from the onsen.

Another route, easier but rather longer, leaves the Shirasawa ravine near its upper end, and climbs the shapely peak of Mae Hodaka (10,138 feet) before descending to the saddle between it and Oku Hodaka.

From the summit of Oku Hodaka the splendid arête northwards can be followed to Yari-ga-take and offers the finest "ridge walking" in the whole of the Japanese Alps. There are huts in the earlier part of the climb, Karasawa-koya below the arête, about 8,200 feet on the east side of the ridge, and Hodaka-goya, 9,600 feet. The whole traverse usually takes about ten to twelve hours and involves considerable ups and downs over the various subsidiary peaks rising from the arête in the former half of the climb.

The Shirahone hot springs.
Illustration from Walter Weston, The Playground of the Far East.

Norikura-dake (9,929 feet) is an interesting, perhaps extinct, volcano, in this region, and can be reached without difficulty from Onogawa or Nakanoyu on the motor road from Shimajima to Kamikōchi. From Nakanoyu or from the onsen of Hirayu, some three or four hours farther on over the pass of the Abo-tōge, the ascent offers no difficulty though rough, and is in each case facilitated by huts both on the way up and on the summit. A good deal of snow is often found on the mountain. A descent to the quaint onsen of Shirahone (or Shirafune), in a ravine below the right bank of the Adzusa-gawa, is possible.

Ontake-san (10,051 feet) is one of the most famous of the sacred peaks of Japan, and also of great interest in view of the "occult” practices of the pilgrim bands known as the Ontake kyokwai, who make it their rendezvous for the principal rites: the ceremony of "bringing down the gods."

It is best ascended from Kiso-Fukushima (some 35 miles south of Matsumoto) on the Central Line in the Nakasendō valley. Fukushima offers accommodation of every type, and the mountain can be climbed by several routes. A good way is to ascend by that known as the Kurosawa, and to descend by the more attractive one of Ōtaki. The many pilgrims' huts, especially on the Kurosawa route, render the expedition one of great ease, some eight to ten hours up and less down.

Kiso-Komagatake (c. 9,500 feet) is a fine granite peak rising between the valley of the Kiso-gawa, west, and that of the Tenryū-gawa on the east. It forms the highest point of the long serrated ridge sometimes styled the Central Japanese Alps. It is best climbed from Agematsu, some six miles south of Fukushima on the same line. There are some good huts near the summit, but a traverse over the peak with descent into the valley of the Tenryū can be done in a long day. By rail and road from Miyata to Tokimata at the beginning of the famous rapids of the Tenryū and the nine to ten hours down them is a notable experience.

References

From Walter Weston's chapter on “Japan”, in Sydney Spencer (editor), Mountaineering: The Lonsdale Library Volume XVIII, London: Seeley Service & Co, 1934.

Mountaineering in Japan (2): "rocking to and fro"

Continued: Walter Weston's guide to alpine activities in Japan during the 1930s.

Flora: The flora of the Japanese Alpine regions is rich and varied, especially in the Northern mountains, with magnificent cryptomeria, various cypresses, giant birch, beeches, maples, oaks, &c.

The profusion and variety of Alpine flowers are of great beauty and interest. The most noticeable districts are: in the North Shirouma (Ō Renge) and Goshiki-ga-hara, near Tateyama Onsen and in the South, Kita-dake and Senjo-dake. At 9,000 feet may be seen Cyprepedium yatabeanum and the great purple C. Macranthon. Potentilla gelida is found on most of the highest summits, up to 10,500 feet; the splendid Shortia uniflora, a dark lily, Fritillarius kamschatensis, and the most magnificent Aquilegia akitensis at 10,000 feet. The Japanese soldanella has a far great range than the ordinary Alpine one, from 3,000 to 10,000 feet, both north and south.

Fauna: Of the fauna one sometimes comes across a large black bear, and chamois, this of less attractive build than the European variety. The golden eagle, the gorgeous copper pheasant in the lower forests, and nightingale are found, with absurdly tame ptarmigan on the higher ridges. In the clear streams of the granite ranges several varieties of trout are plentiful.

Fuji-San from Lake Yamanaka
Illustration from Walter Weston, The Playground of the Far East.

Fuji, Fuji-San, Fuji-yama, or (in poetry) Fuji-no-yama, although not geographically belonging to the mountain groups known as the Japanese Alps, occupies, as a mountain peak, such a unique position orographically, that in every sense it stands by itself in a land of mountains.

It rises, about 50 miles west of Yokohama, in one unbroken sweep from the shores of the Pacific Ocean to a height of some 12,395 feet, nearly 3,000 feet higher than any other peak in Japan proper, and overtopping all hills in its neighbourhood by upwards of 10,000 feet.

The ascent, in summer, presents no difficulty, as on each of the four recognized routes there are a number of huts used by pilgrim and others, at which simple accommodation may be had; the slope never exceeds 35 degrees and in some cases motor or other vehicles ply up to a height of 6,000 feet or over, through the forests or beyond.

The routes mentioned are Yoshida, N.E., Subashiri and Gotemba, nearly parallel, E.; Omiya, S.W. The first three are most convenient for travellers from Yokohama and Tokyo, while Omiya is mostly used by pilgrims starting from the famous shrine after which it is named, and is better situated for those coming from the direction of Kobe and Kyoto. It offers more shade than other routes, and it is a good plan to ascend by this and to cross the mountain so as to descend to Yoshida or Gotemba. In the cases of all these points there is communication with the railway (Tokaido line) by means of motors or buses.

An average time for the ascent will vary from eight to ten hours. An interesting walk midway to the summit is the Chūdō-meguri, the "circuit half-way up," the track passing round the mountain at a height varying between 6,500 and 9,500 feet. It is best taken by going to the left westwards, from about the 6th hut on the Gotemba route.

Guides or porters, belonging to guilds which have headquarters at the starting points named, can be engaged in advance, at a specified fee of $4 or so for the whole trip. There is also a small regular charge for a night's lodging when needed at the huts, but food should be taken by the traveller, though Japanese tea is always procurable.

Fuji can also be climbed outside the summer months, but for this special arrangements must be made. In good spring weather, when the mountain is but half-covered with snow, the ascent is full of interest and charm, and offers no particular difficulty to an experienced mountaineer.

In winter it is a more serious undertaking, and is best taken from Yoshida, although it can be done from other points. Proper Alpine outfit is indispensable, and ample food is needed. The weather is apt to be variable, few huts are open, and no skilled guides, as such, are available.

The ascent of Fuji in winter is essentially one regarding which the advice of the Japanese Alpine Club should be sought. A certain amount of winter skiing is to be had, usually, on the lower slopes.

Since the "Alpine" regions of Japan were introduced to the notice of the mountaineering world, chiefly by "foreign" mountaineers some forty years ago, radical and far-reaching changes have taken place. Mountaineering as a recreation has become perhaps the most popular of outdoor sports, and the youth of Japan has welcomed it with characteristic energy and thoroughness. Among its most active adherents are members of the Imperial Family, of whom Prince Chichibu has done excellent work in the European Alps, both in summer and in winter. The native enterprise has shown itself in the opening up of new routes, the provision of climbers' huts, the training and organization of guides, and in the improvement of the maps of special districts. In the whole "Alpine" region there are over 150 huts where previously none existed beyond a few scattered shelters mainly used by the staff of the Imperial Forestry Bureau, or by hunters and fishermen.

The Japanese Alpine Club: the Japanese Alpine Club, largely managed by climbers of experience in Europe and the Canadian Rocky Mountains, has a membership of some 800, while nearly all the principal universities and many of the larger high schools, have, like Oxford and Cambridge, mountaineering clubs of their own.

Perhaps the most remarkable achievement of the J.A.C. is the publication of a handbook for climbers, on the lines of a well-known Swiss model, entitled Yama Nikki ("a Mountain Diary"), probably the most thoroughly complete volume of its kind in existence. The information it contains as to routes, huts, the addresses of the various guides associations, equipment, &c., are full and invaluable, as are its important counsels on the varying conditions and differences of summer and winter climbing respectively. All the principal skiing localities, of which there are many, are indicated, and the necessary precautions to be adopted in procuring the use of the huts in them. While many of the summer routes lie mainly in the valleys, these are usually to be avoided in the winter owing to the danger of avalanches. It is unfortunate that this invaluable volume is printed only in Japanese, but the information it contains should by all means be consulted with the aid of one competent to read and to translate its contents. The officials of the Club are always most ready to assist fellow-mountaineers in every way. The Department of Imperial Railways itself organizes lectures and other means of popularizing mountaineering travels, and at the Central Railway Station in Tokyo may be found the headquarters of the Japanese Tourist Bureau (J.T.B.) which offers exceedingly useful information regarding travel transport, &c., all over the country.

The headquarters of the Japanese Alpine Club (in Japanese, Nihon Sangaku Kai) are 307 Fujiya Building, Kotohiracho, Shiba ku, Tokyo.

Apart from Fuji-San, there are fifteen peaks in Japan proper of 10,000 feet or over, while six others vary from 9,879 feet up to 9,950 feet. The altitudes here to be mentioned are based on the Survey of the General Staff of the Japanese Army, as revised in 1932 and found in the Yama Nikki ("Mountain Diary") of the J.A.C.

With regard to the height of Fuji-San, and perhaps also some other quiescent volcanoes, Professor John Milne, in his illustrated monograph on the mountain, has suggested that owing to the contraction of the eviscerated crater on the summit and other causes the actual height may vary slightly from time to time. His observations during a stay of ten days on the top of Fuji-san showed that during prolonged and excessive wind the upper part showed quite definite signs of rocking to and fro. This phenomenon is familiar to lighthouse keepers under such conditions in very exposed situations.

In now giving the details of mountain routes in the principal ranges of the Japanese Alps it should be pointed out that as three-fourths or four-fifths of the area of the country is composed of mountains and hills, it is only possible to deal with a selection of some of the most representative and interesting expeditions.

References

From Walter Weston's chapter on “Japan”, in Sydney Spencer (editor), Mountaineering: The Lonsdale Library Volume XVIII, London: Seeley Service & Co, 1934.

Mountaineering in Japan (1) : "to a height of 40,000 feet"

Walter Weston's guide to alpine activities in Japan during the 1930s.

The islands of Japan represent the crest of a vast mountain chain that rears itself from the profoundest depths of the Pacific Ocean to a height, in Fuji-san, of 40,000 feet. Its general characteristics show its close kinship to the contiguous mainland of Asia. The long sinuous island chain really represents the advanced frontier of the Asiatic continent, and the ocean bed between Japan and Korea is so shallow that a slight uplifting of it would admit of dry-land communication from the one to the other. 

The Fuji-Kawa
Illustration from Walter Weston, The Playground of the Far East.

The chief mountain ranges of Japan constitute no less than three-quarters of the total area, and in general formation consist of two main systems, the northern and the southern. The Northern runs south from Saghalin until it meets the Southern, which has entered from southern China and passed upwards through Formosa, and the two systems meet in the middle of the mainland of Japan. It is here, in the broadest part of the main island, that the wildest and deepest valleys are cleft and that the mountains rise to their loftiest heights in the ranges now known as Japanese Alps.

The meeting of these two systems has resulted in great geological upheavals, and a vast transverse fissure crosses the island through which a number of great volcanoes have burst their way. This fissure is known to geologists as the Fossa Magna, and forms a geological boundary between northern and southern Japan. The main features present marked contrasts, for while Northern Japan is comparatively low and open, the Southern division, especially in its central regions, exhibits the wildest and most romantic scenes in the county.

The chain of erupted peaks in the Fossa Magna forms the Fuji Volcanic Belt and is of great interest. It stretches southwards across Hondo (the "main island") from near Naoetsu on the Sea Japan, culminating in Fuji-San (or Fujiyama, san being the Chinese and yama the Japanese word for mountain). It then passes through the Hakone hills and the promontory of Izu into a curious island chain known as Shichito, "the Seven Islands of Izu." The most important of these peaks is Mitake, on the island of Oshima, familiar to travellers approaching Yokohama by sea from the west.

The main mass of the Japanese Alps lies between 35° and 37° N. latitude and the situation of its northern portion is almost identical with that of the Sierra Nevada of Spain. The south end of the range lies due west of Tokyo and Yokohama, from which it is readily approached. Both of these cities stand on the same latitude as Gibraltar and Malta. Its general outline and elevation are comparable to those of the Alpes Maritimes or of the Bergamasque Alps as viewed from the plains of Lombardy. An intimate acquaintance with its characteristic features justifies the observation of the late Lord Bryce that "there is probably not any other country that exhibits such an endless variety of natural beauty." The Japanese Alps include two main divisions which I have ventured to distinguish as the Northern and Southern Alps respectively; each has its own characteristic features.

The Northern range runs nearly southwards, from near Naoetsu, on the Sea of Japan, for upwards of 100 miles. It exhibits the greatest variety of form and outline. Great volcanoes, some as perfect cones, and others but shattered remnants of their original forms, alternate with granite peaks and towers, or the pointed porphyritic summits of an older age.

On the north-western limits, the cold winds from Siberia deposit the moisture over the warm currents in the Sea of Japan in the form of heavy snowfalls that frequently bury whole villages. Here, as in Hokkaido (Yezo) excellent skiing grounds may be found. No actual glaciers are seen at the present day, though on many of the highest ridges and in the more secluded ravines snow lies all the year round. In many of these districts snow-shoes and crampons known as Kana-kanjiki to the Japanese hunters and others using them are to be found.

Scattered all over the mountain ranges throughout Japan are numerous spas (onsen, or yuba) most frequently in the Northern Alps, at an altitude of about 5,000 feet. Some of these serve to determine the most popular climbing centres, since it is there that suitable accommodation is usually met with, and the waters have often considerable medicinal value. The best-known of these are Kamikōchi, Nakabusa, and Tateyama Onsen, all in the Northern Alps.

The Southern Alps mainly comprise an immense triangular mass about 50 miles in length enclosed by the famous rivers Tenryugawa on the west and Fuji-Kawa on the east, both of which empty themselves into the Pacific between Nagoya and Yokohama.

In this division there are none of the volcanoes that give variety to the northern range. But the mountain forms are more massive and Kita-dake (sometimes locally known as Kaigane, 10,534 feet) is the second highest peak in Japan proper.

This region is less familiar to mountaineers than the former, with its great forests and romantic glens. There are fewer onsen, and over hundreds of square miles hardly any human habitations are to be seen. This is the more noticeable, since the eastern foothills are not a day's journey west of Kōfu, one of the most progressive towns in Central Japan.

References

From Walter Weston's chapter on “Japan”, in Sydney Spencer (editor), Mountaineering: The Lonsdale Library Volume XVIII, London: Seeley Service & Co, 1934.