japan diaries - vol. 7

My last run.

M and I woke up at six and got ready. She was tired and I could tell she wanted to sleep by the way she kept squinting. It was sweet of her to come along. Her on the bike. For the last time.

We set a course for Asuka based on the directions her father gave us the day before. Asuka is a part of Nara that boasts old temples, lush farmland and a series of nature trails. It remains quite a popular attraction and most of the tourists travel the area on bicycle. As such, the streets and sidewalks were very accommodating.

I enjoyed the looks M and I received. Given my appearance, I must have looked like either a professional runner being timed and photographed, or simply a foreigner chasing a Japanese woman on a bike. I never shied away from saying good morning or hello. Given that we were not in or around Tokyo, my acknowledgements were almost always well received.

We arrived in Asuka after 3 or so miles and came upon a series of paved hiking trails. I stopped the watch and implored M to go on a hike with me. She was already beginning to show signs of fatigue. Asuka draws its beauty from its hilly terrain. And it was draining her. Still, she agreed and we set out into the park.

Only several steps into the walk and we were heading up a major incline. We stopped occasionally for a picture or two. A Buddha statue with an accompanying offering table. An excavation site of an ancient kofun. M swatting at mosquitoes with hormone problems. The kind that make Chinese people over 8ft. tall. Huge.

At the top of this hill was a lookout. The steps were made out of earth and framed by wood. I walked them one by one. No need to rush. I had an idea what was in store at the top. I could hear M taking pictures of me perhaps two or three steps behind. I pretended not to notice. She prided herself on taking shots when I wasn’t aware.

A man, covered in sweat, was sitting on one of the seats fashioned from cut tree trunks. There were many of them. Maybe 9 altogether. No particular order. He was breathing heavily and wearing a bright orange shirt. He had a radio strapped around his neck and seemed to be listening to the news. I heard voices. Not singing. The radio was old and covered in a worn black leather case. Holes were cut out where the single speaker was. My grandparents used to have a radio like this. Always set on the A/M stations. It was played during ironing sessions, or in the workshop. I never really listened to what was being played. I nodded and said good morning to the man on the seat. He responded as clearly as his scratchy radio. He needed water.

At the center of the circle was a larger tree trunk with a series of carvings. Names of the surrounding cities and their corresponding directions. Looking out, houses and buildings, temples and towers rose in the few places a mountain did not reside. The sun was burning the last remnants of the morning haze. But it lingered. Like incense around a gravestone. Cigarette smoke in a pachinko parlor. I snapped a couple of pictures and we made our way down the hill.

After a couple of more shots, M had had enough. She was being assaulted by mosquitoes and, in between all the swatting and slapping, couldn’t appreciate the beauty of the place. It was time to go.

We made our way back to the parking lot where we locked the bike and headed toward Asuka temple. It was closed. Nonetheless, I leaped across the small moat and took a picture of the courtyard over the wall. It would have been nice to visit there during the fall I thought, but I wasn’t to put off about not being able to enter. A corresponding gate picture and shot of M looking tired and bitten and we left.

I stopped to take more pictures of random things and eventually came upon a temple. I ran up the stone steps as M waited. She didn’t know how many steps there would be and didn’t like the idea of heading back into another densely wooded area with, most likely, standing water. After not too many stairs, I came upon a temple with a priest praying inside. I decided to quietly snap a few pictures and head back. He looked serious. And I didn’t want to disturb.

After those last few pictures, M and I settled into the run/bike back and finished strong up the last hill before her house. The one I ran the first full day in Japan. It is even more oppressive when the base comes at the start of the 10th mile. But we made it. And not too much longer we made it home. Hitomi and M’s dad were still sleeping. I cooled off outside while M brought me some water. She asked if it was OK if she left me to take a shower. “Yes,” I responded, “it’s OK. Thanks for coming with me.” “Un,” she responded. And slid the door closed.