A Perilous Temple

Day four and no tears. By the end however our dogs were definitely barkin’.

In the morning our feet were well rested feet. Anticipating the long day ahead. An early start to Temple 11 took us through rows of farm fields. Groups of kids in their plaid school uniforms walked in front of us line up with the vegatation making the entire scene symmetrical.

At temple 11, a senior group of pilgrims took an interest in us. They were supportive of our pilgrimage and offered much advice. One lady in the group smiled eagerly. As we continued to communicate she reached for my hand and held it. Being physical with strangers is not the norm for many Japanese and so her actions were special and appreciated. My active imagination told me she was a firecracker in her youth. Or maybe she was someone who did what was expected of her. Then again, maybe with the wisdom and courage of age she started to do what she wanted for herself.

The positive interaction at temple 11 gave us energy to tackle our first nansho, or perilous temple. The route through the forest to temple 12 was magical. Overcast skies created soft lighting for the entire seven hour hike. At the passes the wind blew cold. The stoic barks of the pines swayed and creaked, sometimes fighting but mostly giving into the wind. We ran into a monk dressed in traditional pilgrims clothing. He was a small man ladened with gear. I offered him a package of nuts as o-settai. He gave a prayer of thanks in return, bowing and reciting a sutra. We learned later that he just started walking the 88 temples for a year, non-stop, carrying all the supplies needed for his nomadic lifestyle. Would we see him again?

As we continued, the perilous temple walk lived up to its name. The climb was just as difficult as I remembered from 2009, but with cooler weather running out of water was not a worry this time. We passed the spot where my friend Mieko met me 11 years ago and drove the two of us the remainder of the way to temple 12. With no vehicle support on this day, the only option was to continue on foot. To my naive surprise there was still a lot more kilometers remaining, each one more arduous then the last. I realized that Mieko saved my life back then by picking me up and providing the water so desperately needed. I need to thank her for that.

Reaching twelve (Shōsan-ji) late afternoon we quickly went through our temple practices. There was still another 2 hours of walking in order to get to our lodging before dark. On the equally steep decent, knees started giving out. The pace had to be slowed down. We literally walked backwards at times to stop the pain. Arriving at our tradition Minshuku lodging, the remaining 2.5 hours were comical, frustrating, and delightful. Outside a toothless lady greeted us and kept asking about tobacco. When we couldn’t provide satisfactory answers to her questions, she escorted us into a shabby looking storefront. There a hunched over lady was preparing dinner. While we signed in another gentleman told us is to sit at a table crowded into a corner. He gave us tea and snacks. He kept smiling at us asking if we wanted onsen, a traditional Japanese bath. Our guidebook had told us that onsen was part of this lodging offerings so we answered yes. An energetic one sided conversation followed, all in Japanese. We just nodded and smiled, grasping onto the few words we did understand. Something about towels and 100 yen. Before we knew it, we were being ushered into the backseat of a tiny hatchback driven by Obaasan, or grandfather. Thinking the bath would be be nearby we were surprised to still be driving 15 minutes later, holding tightly onto the 100 yen given to each of us. Obaasan dropped us off at the entrance to the onsen and drove away. Armed with our money and nothing else, we entered the double sliding glass doors. Once inside and instantly familiar with onsen protocol, we dropped our yen into the locker and retrieved our towel. The bath was just what an 11 hour walk day pilgrim needed. Hot, soothing and clean. When we finished, Obaasan sat waiting for us in the lobby. He drove us back to our lodging where we ate a homemade dinner with other henro. We were escorted to our room on the second floor and shown the huge storage area where we would sleep. No heat but a working kotatsu (a small heat source) and in the words of our host, a bathroom that was “eh or ok”. We settled in and let our dogs get some well deserved rest.