Monthly Archive for June, 2007

Alright I admit it – I have an addiction. I’m a waterfall junky, I confess. What, with the surf being so dismal in winter and so far this year, I’ve had to find other ways to refresh myself and get some exercise while surrounded by nature.

Thank goodness for the Net and in particular for this amazing site provided by Takeno-san. (http://www.ne.jp/asahi/photo/takeno/) This guy is without a doubt the guru of cascades in Tokushima. He documents every fall, complete with description, directions and superb photography.

With the swell forecast looking miserable again for the weekend, I browsed the site for a new fall to go to. I was looking for somewhere not too far from home so Yoko wouldn’t be left to look after Reni and Syd for too long on her own. I decided Kamiyama (Spirit Mountain) would be a good destination. It’s a great location, particularly at this time of year when the foliage is so vibrantly green from the rainy season.

I rose bright and early on Saturday keen to get away as quickly as possible. After my quick morning fix of water with apple vinegar, I packed my bag. Along with the essential directions and camera, I brought along an apple and some figs to snack on. I also grabbed a big empty bottle, hoping to fill it with delicious, fresh, natural H2O.

After filling up at the nearby service station I set off for the mountains. There was little traffic on the road so I made good time. I’d figured my Japanese would be reasonable enough to follow the directions but I soon came unstuck. My first basic error was to head back up the mountains rather than follow the river. Once any sign of water had disappeared I realized my mistake and returned to where I had made the wrong turn.

As I made my way alongside the river I felt confident  this time I had the right road. The hard part from here would be finding the forest road turn off. Just as I thought I’d reached the turn, a middle-aged couple who had been fishing in the river below appeared. Feeling less than confident of my reading ability, I thought I might have more luck if I spoke to them and showed them the directions.

They were very friendly but seemed a little unsure. Eventually the man said it was definitely the turn off. From here however it became a little confusing. He recommended I ask the man in charge of the nearby amego fish farm for further directions. As we parted ways the man remarked that he’d like to go to the waterfall too as he’d heard there were many fish there. “Sounds about right,” I thought to myself since the fall’s name translates to ‘Fish-stop Fall’.

A threatening looking dog deterred me from stopping at the fish farm. I drove deeper and higher into the forest until I came to a mountain pass. I parked and took a quick stroll down the other side. A bird was whistling brightly but there was no sound of water falling. Inexplicably some Japanese would rather give you wrong directions than admit they don’t know where somewhere is. This was one such case .

On my way back down the slope I checked all of the turn-offs I had passed. Still no luck. This time I stopped at the fish farm to try and get more directions. The dog was actually quite placid (and chained) but nobody was around.

I eventually found the forest road I’d been looking for shortly after. Making my way up the valley I was disppointed to see some large concrete blocks (tetrapods) dumped in the river. Near the end of the road there were some more blocks leftover and a cluster of upside down tree roots. Soon after setting off on foot I came to the base of a small landslide. Looking up the slope there was not a tree in sight just a number of concrete levees to block a non-existent river.

The desolate scene disappeared from view as I hiked uphill. Before long I entered a dark, eerie forest. A short while later a picturesque little fall came into view. After taking a few snaps of it I continued further upstream, the irresistable sound of a cascade enticing me.

Through the vibrant foliage I could discern a high wall with water flowing down it. At first I thought it might be another concrete atrocity. As I got nearer I was relieved to see that this was a natural rock wall. There was not a soul within coo-ee of this enchanting natural attraction. Judging by the absence of garbage, nobody had been here in a long time. The construction wankers, I mean workers, had probably never even made it here to the wall that beat them all.

     

I’ve had my tent for about 10 years now. It’s still functional though it does have a few tears on it. Considering it cost about $30 at the time I bought it, I figure I’ve got pretty good value out of it.
I’ve had my tent for about 10 years now. It’s still functional though it does have a few tears on it. Considering it cost about $30 at the time I bought it, I figure I’ve got pretty good value out of it.

Now that we have four in our family, we’ll need a bigger tent. Along with a new computer and printer, it’s at the top of my shopping list.

The good ol’ tent served Reni and I very well the other weekend however. We went south to a small deserted beach about an hour and a half south of Tokushima, leaving Yoko at home to relax and do her own thing (while Syd was sleeping).

When we arrived at the beach our friends were already there. Yusuke, En and Chiharu were diving for abalone while Wakabon played in an inflatable raft and Kana set up camp.

The crew were amazingly well prepared actually. Besides their own tents they had a big canopy to serve as our dining area. They had already built a very solid fireplace and arranged deckchairs around it. They’d also built a big campfire from the abundant driftwood scattered over the beach. En had also brought a generator along so we had electricity and music to enjoy after dark.

That night we feasted on the fresh catch of abalone along with some fried noodles and spaghetti, washed down with some ice cold ales. Reni was the only child present however he was reasonably comfortable with the company besides Wakabon’s dog, Mellow. (Reni’s still not comfortable with dogs, particularly dogs as big or bigger than him.)

Reni was a terrific camping companion in fact. He enjoyed his dinner and went to bed without any complaint. The next morning when he woke up, he stuck his head out of the tent, smiled at me and called “Good morning, Daddy!” That made my trip.