I Lied… I Did Go Hiking (...trekking) This Summer 🌞🐍
A few weeks ago I confidently declared, "I'm not hiking this summer. It's far too hot."
Despite knowing full well that Japanese summers are basically nature's version of an oven with 100% humidity, I somehow found myself trekking part of the Nakasendō Trail in Shiga Prefecture.
Ask me once I've forgotten how much I sweated.
The plan for the day was to visit the historic Samegai-juku (Samegai Post Town) and see the famous Baikamo (water buttercups) that bloom in the crystal-clear streams running through the village.
Since I was staying at my boyfriend's place in Hirakata the night before, I headed to Kashiwabara Station first thing in the morning. It was surprisingly straightforward—JR trains all the way—and after around an hour and a half, I arrived ready to meet everyone.
I joined a Japanese hiking group that usually organises walks around Nagoya, but this hike was perfectly placed about halfway between Kyoto and Nagoya, making it easy enough for people travelling from both directions.
Well... "easy" is a strong word.
The weather certainly wasn't.
Within about ten minutes I had accepted that every item of clothing I owned was now permanently attached to my body.
Japan does "walk into a sauna while carrying a backpack."
The scenery, however, was worth every sweaty step. The old post town felt frozen in time, with traditional buildings, quiet streets and incredibly clear streams flowing alongside the road. The Baikamo flowers gently floated beneath the surface of the icy water, looking almost too delicate to be real.
...walked past a dead one lying on the path.
For a split second I genuinely thought someone had dropped an ebi fry.
Thankfully it wasn't alive, because I'm fairly certain my soul would have left my body on the spot.
To be fair, I think my soul had already started packing its bags thanks to the heat anyway.
Japanese summers are absolutely not for the weak.
There were moments where I was convinced I had transcended to another dimension, floating somewhere above the trail watching my physical body continue walking purely out of stubbornness.
Every tiny patch of shade became a luxury resort.
Every vending machine was a holy shrine.
Every cold drink tasted like it had been blessed by the gods.
Despite the heat, it was one of those days that reminded me why I love hiking in Japan. Historic trails, beautiful countryside, tiny villages, crystal-clear rivers and a group of people equally mad enough to be hiking in 35°C weather.
Next time someone asks if I'm hiking in summer...
I'll probably still say no.
And I'll probably be lying again.
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