March 3, 2008 - Lost with Orange and Yellow
I awoke at 6:30 and of course my shoulder felt better after a night's rest. I had breakfast and then the SakaeYa owner gave me a banana for a bento. I put it into my traveling snack bag and headed out.
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| Sakaeya and owner waving goodbye. I wonder what the surrounding area looked like 120 years ago. Pretty sure there wasn't a Camry parked out front. |
The day was cool and cloudy with little wind. The mountains were shrouded in mist, very beautiful. I traveled the Northern route (map 50) to DaiHouJi (T44). Around noon it began to rain. I reached for my poncho (Kappa). It had been two years since I had worn it, but the action of pulling it out and slipping it on while walking was automatic. It felt good to walk in the rain in Shikoku again.
As I entered the mountains the road narrowed and I began to see kinoko (mushroom) farms. This was very interesting to me because I am thinking about raising kinoko myself. 
These farmers were very serious though. There was barbed wire around one patch of kinoko. (I half expected to see some Obaachan dressed in quilted camo stringing claymores between the rows.) I can’t imagine someone stealing them, but many hungry Henro pass by every year. I don’t care for raw mushrooms therefore I would have to be VERY hungry to steal them. I would probably eat another Henro first.
As I left the paved road and entered the mountain trail (Map 51) the snow began to fall. I passed a beautiful little log house. It seemed out of place but it was homely and had a nice stack of firewood alongside.
As the climb became steeper I encountered snow. At the peak altitude of 790m (Map 51) there was a little rest area with a bench. I decided to stop there for lunch. I had a few small snacks but mostly I was excited about trying the “healthy” onigiri. After a few bites I realized no amount of mental coercion on my part was going to make me think it was tasty.
In fact, it tasted horrible. Perhaps if it was heated and moistened it may have been passable. Out of respect to the gentleman who gave them to me I decided not to throw them away. Plus I was still in the mountains and if I got lost I may need them (after I ran out of tree bark and dead leaves to eat).
Lastly, I ate the banana given to me by the kind owners of the SakaeYa Ryokan. About halfway through the banana I noticed that it had a hole about a cm in diameter through its midsection. As if someone stabbed it with an ice pick. I then imagined the owner’s husband taking revenge on the banana after being scolded by his wife. "I'll show you 'make the bento', stab, stab"... I have a somewhat sick imagination.
As I began my descent to Temple 44 it stopped snowing but by the time I put my poncho away and reached the gate of the temple it was snowing again.
I wish I was a better master of my camera at times like these. The photos I took in no way do justice to the beauty of snow falling on the temple grounds. Perhaps there is no way to adequately capture it in images without the other four senses involved.
I had several powerfully spiritual moments when saying my prayers and watching others pray. This spontaneously happens when you're walking the pilgrimage. You just walk, try to keep your spiritual house in order and then suddenly you're hit with profound moments. It can't be forced, only prepared for.
A funny thing happened when I had my NokyoCho (stamp book) signed. When I was preparing to leave there was an envelope full of name slips collected by another henro on the counter. Name slips are exchanged between henro and can be used to contact each other after they return home. It's a dear collection to the henro.
The woman who signed my NokyoCho picked it up and handed it to me. I told her it wasn't mine but she insisted that it slipped from my book. I didn't want to argue so I took it with me, but outside I was in a kind of dilemna. Should I take it with me knowing that I'll never know who's it is or should I leave it at the temple in the hopes that the owner will come to retrieve it? Then I remembered the two ladies who had been there before me (they had stayed at Sakaeya Ryokan as well). I guessed it was theirs and I decided to take it with me. Because the trip to Temple 45 was a west to east loop that returned to Temple 44 I was pretty sure I would see them again along the way.
DaiHouJi is at about 560m altitude. The trail that leads to IwaYaJi (T45) goes up to 715m then drops down to 560m again where it merges with Highway 12. Right at the end of a tunnel.
As I came out of the trail above the highway I saw the two ladies I had shared the Sakaeya Ryokan with the night before. They were both decked out in bright rain gear. One bright yellow and the other bright orange.
They were heading down a snow covered logging road instead of onto the highway. They had told me that morning at breakfast that this was their fourth trip around Shikoku, so I followed them assuming they knew where they were going. After about an hour I came around a corner and there were Orange and Yellow taking a break or so it seemed.
As I approached they both had sheepish grins on their faces. "Mayotta, mayotta" they were saying. Which means "Lost". I'm like that sucks, but all we have to do is walk back the way we came. Then I realized that it was almost dark and even getting back to the freeway meant at least another hour or so of walking after that. Not only would we miss dinner but I may not even get a room that late.
Immediately Orange whipped out her cell phone and dialed the place where they were staying. After much nervous laughter she hung up and said someone from the FuruIwa Ryokan (M51.8) would come to pick us up shortly and we had better start walking. She also told me that they booked a room for me also. Bingo!
Talk about rags to riches. One minute I was thinking about how we might have to draw straws to see who gets eaten first and the next I'm wondering if there's cable in my room.
Orange forged ahead of Yellow and I, having taken charge of us. This was my chance to ask about the envelope of name slips I had found at DaiHouJi. Yellow took one look and said it didn't belong to either one of them. Both she and Orange were just as sure it wasn't there's as I was sure it wasn't mine. Now what?
We may have been walking for 15 minutes when round the corner came a tiny mini-van. It stopped right in front of us and out hopped a huge dude who immediately took our packs and loaded them in the cargo space. After much howdy-do-ing we climbed in and headed towards the Ryokan. All told it was about a 10 kilometer trip from pickup point to the lobby of the Ryokan. We were very grateful not to have to walk it in the dark.
The FuruIwa was really a large hotel with a restaurant, a gift shop and a humongous bath. I've forgotten the fee but it was reasonably priced (not more than 7000 yen) and when you throw in the rescue, it was a bargain.
I ate dinner, took a bath and did my laundry. As I lay down on the futon I remembered the envelope of name slips. I pulled it out and started going through them. The last sheet of paper was a receipt for a night's stay at a Ryokan dated two years ago. The name of the patron was written in Kanji but I couldn't read it, damn!
I couldn't go to sleep now, so I put on my robe and headed to the front desk (it was freezing). The desk clerk read the name and said "Ueyama Satomi". Why did that name sound so familiar? Wait a minute, that's Satomi from Rob and Satomi. It was so out of context because they were back in the States that my tired mind couldn't figure it out.
I was glad to find out the owner of the envelope but was still shocked that it was Satomi. All I can guess is that somehow her envelope of name slips got mixed up with my NokyoCho cho when we did our slide show at the the Kobo Gallery last summer. Regardless, I'm going to charge her handling fees for carting her envelope all over Ehime Prefecture.
Thought for the day
"It's never too late in the day for something exciting to happen."