Climbing with Kukai

May 5 cont...

Just before I left New Zealand, I had been telling someone, while chewing my nails pensively, about the mountains I was going to be climbing. They suggested that the Japanese idea of climbing mountains was possibly not quite the same as ours. It felt like they had given me a safety harness and crampons but I tried not to get my hopes up and kept visualising Mount Everest just to be realistic.

Fortunately whoever told me that rumour was right. Although the mountain was strenuous and steep, it was more what we in New Zealand would class as a good days hike up into ranges. The paths were not only breathtakingly beautiful but manageable, with a trillion steps edged with fake synthetic logs and it was only occasionally that we had to climb rock faces. The vegetation was not a lot unlike ours with enough ferns to make me feel represented and every few hours or so we would come upon a small mountain shrine that was always a sign to my weary bones we were going to have a break.

Small shrine between temples 11 and 12

But, just like New Zealand, I’m not sure it would have been so convivial if it had been raining.

We quickly settled into a climbing order - Iwamoto San led the way, I was in the middle and Myoko San was behind me. There were unexpected benefits climbing with two fit 60 year olds because their maturity meant they stopped often to enjoy the scenery – obviously their busting guts days were long gone. Also – it made me look like the fit whipper snapper!!

And I was surprisingly fit. I kept up miraculously well which I marveled at with each step. Iwamoto and Myoko Sans kept commenting on how fit I was but relatively, they were the athletes.

Iwamoto and Myoko San’s on the arduous trail up to temple 12

I admit to having one major ace up my sleeve that kept me going through the exhaustion and weariness we all were feeling at times. The bell on Iwamoto San’s backpack.  It seemed that everyone had a bell attached to themselves in some form. Some, like Iwamoto San, were attached to their backpack or clothing or belts, some hung from sticks, some from mobile phones or cameras. I wasn't sure what they represented but I’d always loved bells and chimes and had them at strategic places around my house so felt an attraction to them.

Iwamoto San's had a particularly eerie yet hypnotising ring to it. While following him, I always felt Kobo Daishi in front of me, beckoning me forward, saying You can do it E, just follow me. Uncannily, it didn’t ring all the time - only the times when I needed encouragement…

Not even half way up to temple 12