nude highway driving

Determined to not waste my Sunday after sleeping later than I wanted to, I hopped a subway to Tokyo Station and from there caught a ride to Kamakura, a beautiful town on the coast that was capital of Japan from the late-1100s to the early 1300s and contains a shit-ton of Buddhist temples and Shinto shrines. I wouldn’t get there until 2-something, but I was feeling a little sick of spending every weekend in the city and it felt like a good day for adventure.

I wasn’t sure exactly how to find my train line once I got to Tokyo Station, but I have perfected the “Clueless Gaijin” stare. I just go near some signs in Japanese and stare blankly at them with a perplexed look on my face. It never fails — someone always comes up and asks if they can help me. Often they’ll apologize for their “bad” English and then start speaking it better than 50% of America’s teenagers. Since my Japanese is worse than 98% of Japan’s 1-year-olds, I happily keep the conversation in my language.

I began the day at Engajuki, a beautiful temple right outside the Kita-Kamakura train station. It was created after some fierce fighting with the Mongolians to honor all soldiers who died in the battle. The ruler at the time was really into Zen Buddhism and the brochure said his practice helped him get through the trying situation. I haven’t had to defeat any Mongolian invaders, but I do feel the need for a little Zen action sometimes. Probably works better than Roppongi Beer meditation.

There also allegedly is a tooth of the Buddha located in one of the shrines at the temple. Icky.

It was getting late and I decided I could not leave without seeing the giant Buddha — the Daibutsu. This was something I had wanted to see for five years, and even though Kamakura’s only an hour away from Tokyo by train I was not about to leave without my fix. I saw a Japanese couple standing in front of a city map, so I walked up behind them and turned on the Clueless Gaijin (it’s like blue steel, but pathetic).

“Where are you going?” was the response to my powerful stare.
Me: “Umm, I want to see Daibutsu. I think there is a trail.”
Couple: “Yes, the Daibutsu Nature Trail. It goes up the mountain, through the woods.”
Me: “Perfect!”
Couple, looking at their watches (it was about 3:30) and the sky (it threatened rain): “Umm, it is 2.3 kilometers. Uphill.”
Me: “Groovy!”
Couple’s thought balloon: “Freak.”

I really haven’t had a good hike in too long, so I figured this was perfect. I would get back in touch with Nature, then emerge from the woods to embrace the dharma. Or at least a giant-ass bronze Buddha. I started walking up the paved road, which became a gravel road, which soon became straight-up singletrack dirt. I was enjoying the sights, feeling like I was back in Colorado during my hiking prime (except for the painfully thick air attacking me). There were little trails that branched off the main one, which made me nervous, but I stuck to my instincts.

At some point I stopped, looked around at nothing but trees, listened to nothing but crows, and thought: “Wow, I really shouldn’t be hiking alone when it’s about to storm out on a trail I’ve never seen before in a country where I can’t read the trail signs, if there ever are any.”

After hiking for 45 minutes, getting a little lost, running into the Japanese couple again, trying to help out an Australian dude who was way more lost than I and walking past a few lonesome mountain homes (”Honey, hide the kids — there’s a sweaty white guy wandering around”) I finally found a sign that had English on it. This was way below me, as I already had memorized (OK, written down) the kanji for Daibutsu, and has found it on a few posts.

Hope returned to my weary body as I trudged onward and reverted to just enjoying my surroundings rather than partly enjoying my surroundings while partly trying to figure out where I’d sleep if I got lost. I rounded a bend and despite not being able to see anything beyond the trees I felt at peace, knowing I was close. An amazing incense smell was everywhere. Surely an oversized enlightened dude wasn’t far behind.

I came down from the woods and ended up on some small highway. No more signs for the Daibutsu, but I knew I wouldn’t have to rely on my nonexistent wilderness survival skills to make it through the night should I be lost. I walked a few blocks and noticed a gaggle of schoolkids on my left. They were under a gate. A gate to Kotokuin temple. Home of my friend.

Made it. I felt the wheels taking me through the circle. I embraced the calm and let go of my “self.” I became a small bird and a giant star at the same time. I … saw a hippie running at me from the side. Ahhhhh!

Luckily it was a friend of mine. The Hippie Ex-pat I know from previous trips to Tokyo. While it’s not inconceivable that I run into a hippie friend at a popular Buddhist spot, it freaks me out that after being here less than three weeks I’m bumping into people outside of Tokyo. Bizarre, but neat-O. She was with some little guy friend, and the three of us hit another temple called Hase-dera. It’s got a way-cool cave full of little kannons (Buddhist sculptures) that bring you good luck in various areas. I loved the cave. You had to bow to walk through it. I was good and resisted the urge to say: “This cave got bats? Them bats is smart — they use ray-dar!” I think the joke would have been lost on, well, everyone in there anyway.

The temple offered a mondo view of the ocean and Zushi, the next town over. We headed down to the ugly-ass beach and walked for a bit, dodging dead things and the scary crows who were eating them (and not bothering to get out of our way). The ocean was super rough, but dozens of windsurfers were out there finding their light. As I gazed out at the noisy seas churning around us, I half expected Godzilla to pop up out of the water all pissed off. The water was moving exactly like it does before he surfaces in the movies — well, without the underwater lightning bolts. I was kinda disappointed he didn’t say hi.

I’m definitely heading back soon and often. I need more Buddhist exposure and am dying to try out some more trails (maybe this time with a map). My backup plan if things get too stressful at work is to call bullshit on journalism, shave my head and beg one of the Kamakura temples to take me in as a dirt sweeper.

Plus, I really want to see the little birds who live in an overhang in front of one of the clothing shops down the road from the Daibutsu. We heard them chirping, then saw them on their little perch, checking out all us flightless beings below. The owners of the shop had rigged an umbrella to hang upside-down under the rafter to protect customers from the poo and give the birds a little barrier. It was very Zen.

The day began as a last-minute attempt to do anything and ended up being a wonderful adventure. This always happens when I don’t really feel like making the effort to go out but force myself to start the ball rolling. Great fun always seems to evolve out of just a simple willingness to take a little bigger step than normal. I know I’ll forget this the next time I’m disgruntled, lazy and wondering if I should go do anything, but maybe I’ll think about my Daibutsu nature hike and the birds who poo on umbrellas and take a few steps out the door.