Running up peaks, carving out new routes not on the map. Both pursuits are highly creative and a lot of fun.
I love mountains, I love running, I love poring over maps. I also love to travel. The challenge is then to somehow fuse these elements into one.
Starting at Mt. Rausu in Shiretoko, Hokkaido, this route goes all the way to Okinawa via Mount Kaimondake in Kagoshima. The total length is around 5,000 km, about the equivalent of 120 full marathons, and the total climbing exceeds 100 ascents of Mt.Fuji; this illustrates how long and mountainous the Japanese archipelago is.
I would run from July 15 to the end of September, with no need for snowy gear meaning a lot less weight to carry.
It was sparked off by an idea from a casual chat.
“Are there any trails that run the whole length of Japan?”
I paused before replying to this simple question from a friend overseas. Come to think of it, we don’t have them in Japan.
Why is that exactly? My ears pricked up. Rather than searching for the reason, why not beat a new trail if there are none? The impetus is always simple. It’s in my nature to get moving before I start pondering something.
Two years ago, I solo traversed a route through Honshu based on a record of a 60-year-old expedition from a book titled “Traverse of the Japanese Mountains”. For two months, the daily routine was to climb about 60 km per day, the equivalent of one ascent of Mt.Fuji. Despite being grueling at times, it was a fun and happy time.
After a steep climb, I took in the view from the summit. A beautiful ridgeline stretched out in front. How far would this trail take me? Just thinking about it made my heart skip a beat.
Then, I started moving forward in search of the answer. Further than where I was.
The goal of running the whole distance was less important than it had been initially as I continued to run. Running itself became a joy, making me happy. It was a contentment that transcended physical suffering. I was blessed with a series of irreplaceable days surrounded by the ever-changing aspects of nature, unique culture and history, and encounters with people.
The idea is to join the dots between the myriad mountains in each region to create a single trail. But it doesn’t end when the last step has been run and the route created. It is only complete when somebody else then retraces those steps. The same as the process for mountain trails. As more hikers come and go, the path becomes well-trodden. In that regard, this challenge is not for me alone, but one that I can share with many others. If people continue to walk this path for the next 100 years, it could be quite fantastic. While one cannot of course see into such a future, it is fun just to think of the countless trails to be trodden and tales to be told.
Full disclosure, as well as being a mountain runner I am also a writer. I’m keen to share what I have seen and heard while roving the mountains in each region, throughout this epic project to traverse the Japanese archipelago.
It is a long journey. Brown bears, midsummer heat, mountain accidents, typhoons, heavy rain. Various pitfalls await the unwary explorer. While it is difficult to cover all of them, it is a great honor to be able to share the journey through articles such as this.
Takuya Wakaoka
Born in Kanazawa, 1984. Worked as a print journalist. Upon exiting the newspaper world in 2014, he participated in the Jungle Marathon, a week-long 250km stage race through the Brazilian jungle. With 10kg of food, clothing, and other luggage on his back, he ran through the jungle to complete the race. While moonlighting as a writer, he has won the Hakusan GeoTrail 2017, placed 3rd in Mauna to Mauna 2017, and completed the 4 Deserts Grand Slam 2018. Author of “The Time I Ran the Jungle”
wakaoka-takuya.com
