We were glad of the 7.30 breakfast time as we were impatient to be out and reveling in the clear air up there. There was no natto for breakfast, but instead a small bowl of fish roe. I'm afraid Nick had to eat mine as well. The custom up here, rather than crumble your seaweed over the rice, is to use it to make little makizushi rolls, with the fish eggs dabbed inside.
We wasted no time in getting out and walking up the road to the ropeway station for the 6 minute ride up to the ridge below the main peak. From the car we had superb vistas all round of the surrounding mountains and below us, the multi-coloured leaves. The mountainside was studded with trees in vivid shades of red (maple), orange (rowan) and yellow (birch). It seemed ideal landscape for bears and we scanned the ground in vain for sight of one lumbering along.
At the top, we realised just how unprepared we were for the bitter conditions,with a perishing wind and a good covering of snow that had iced over. Emily's upper body and head were well wrapped but she only had a pair of thin cotton leggings and ankle socks on.
The going was slippery on the ice-covered rocky path, making it difficult for Mum. The bushes on each side wore a dressing of pristine white, and we soon came to a small crest from which we saw the full might of the cone, with a huge gouge out of its north-west side and plumes of steam rising from several fumeroles at the base.
It was hard to appreciate it fully when Emily's poor little face was pinched with cold, and I began to worry about hypothermia. Thoughts of Kate as a baby, turning blue on Ben Nevis, inevitably came to mind. I felt it would be too much to do the full circular walk to the fumeroles, and Nick and I were bickering as I was going on about it so much, so the enjoyment of the setting was somewhat spoiled.
We compromised by agreeing to go as far as a shelter nearer to the vents and a small lake. Once safely inside, Emily promptly dropped off on the breast so we knew we had to stay put for a while. While Nick went to investigate the fumeroles I looked out at the snow, relishing the conditions after a streamy Tokyo summer, spotting a little creature that could be either a chipmunk or a pikka, endemic to Hokkaido. The habitat seemed so inhospitable for a small mammal.
As we descended in the cablecar, enjoying the fine scenery below, Asahidake was starting to cloud over, so we had been wise to go there as early as we did.
Crisis over, I felt revived by experiencing such a fantastic mountain, though inevitably regretful, as we would have loved to climb it if Emily was not with us. It would have required full trekking equipment though, including crampons. It sounded as though people who did attempt it had turned back due to strong winds further up. We had a hearty bowl of ramen each at the bottom, before going back to the lodge. Mum bought Emily a bear-warning bell - a very popular gift!
Straight away, we got into the car and drove half an hour to Tenninkyo Onsen, up a gorge valley with a wide pebbly river issuing from it. A short woodland walk along the river
brought us to a viewing place for the astounding and accurately-named Hagoromo (Feather Cloak) Falls, a series of waterfalls dropping down 250m.
The turning leaves on the cliff face enhanced its beauty. We carried on up the valley for some time, drinking in the lovely colours on the narrowing gorge walls while keeping a wary eye out for bears (last sighting April).
Driving back to base, the setting sun picked out the autumn hues though there was sadly no alpenglow as Asahidake was now totally covered in cloud. Dinner was filling, even without eating the meat dishes provided. A scallop encrusted with minced garlic was tasty, though somewhat meaty in texture. We finished with a slice of really delicious local melon. Afterwards Nick and I had a soak in the rotemburo together. It was incredibly relaxing floating in there, with the stars visible now and then through the clouds above.
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