It’s been almost 6 years since I arrived in Japan. I think even if I had more than 20 years, I would never be able to enjoy everything Japan has to offer.
Before travelling, I would jump online and look on the regular websites for things to eat, see and do. Your regular trifecta travel itinerary. When it comes to Japan, I think there are very few people around the world who haven’t heard of the famous Japanese samurai, seen pictures of the pink landscapes of sakura cherry blossoms or the thousand red gates of Fushimi Inari Shrine in Kyoto. Living in Japan does afford me the opportunity to take time to explore deeper, further beyond the main tourism spots plagued by over-tourism.
On just another ordinary day, I was introduced to Tohoku, Japan’s northernmost region on the main island of Honshu. I was shocked by an odd statistic that less than 3% of all visitors to Japan will ever go as far as Tohoku. Considering the staggering number of people visiting Tokyo and Kyoto, I later booted up my laptop and went down the rabbit hole to look at what Tohoku has to offer.
Here, amongst picturesque views of mountains and trails was a story about the Matagi. One of Japan’s oldest cultures, a relic of their past that still exists today. I read tales of how they would traverse the mountains in waist-deep snow, using survival techniques passed down from generation to generation, to navigate the deepest winters and make a life for themselves in this harsh landscape. The more I read about the Matagi through blogs and adventure journals, it struck me that there are still practicing Matagi in Akita prefecture.
It was settled. This next adventure would take me out of the comfort of my warm kotatsu (table with a heater) and head to the northern regions of mainland Japan, meet with the Matagi and walk the same trails they did. It would be an adventure with many firsts.
It’s 6 AM. I have packed a bag that looks like I am carrying half the camp site on my back. Your average Tokyo salary man gives me a strange look on the train as I head towards Tokyo station. I can understand, it’s not every day you see someone dressed to hike a mountain in the middle of one of the world’s largest cities.
It takes around 3 hours from Tokyo to my stop in Akita. Stepping out I am immediately hit with the crisp and cold air of the northern region. Honestly, it’s refreshing and invigorating. My excitement is so obvious that my friends can’t help but chuckle at me. But this is not our final stop, we boarded the Nariku train line which took us even further into the mountains to where these mysterious Matagi live.
The slow crawl through the valleys in the shadows of these snow-capped mountains, with fresh snow on the ground is something I can’t forget. This was the first time I saw snow that was more than just slush and some frozen rain.
I genuinely love Japan’s rural stations. They feel so alone and bare, as though there might only be a single train for the day. It’s time. Waiting for us at the station dressed in typical winter clothing of gum boots, khaki pants and a neon coloured hat, was Hideo-san our Matagi guide.
As a South African, when I meet people I often hear comments or questions based on media stereotyping or misinformation – No, I don’t have to worry about lions on my commute to school – and the same was for Hideo-san. He was quick to make a joke that the modern Matagi man doesn’t need to wear bear hide, and Patagonia or Mont Bell serves just as well.
Before heading off on our first trek into the woods nearby, Hideo-san wanted to explain what it means to be Matagi. How they aren’t just mindless hunters looking to add trophies to their wall. They strongly believe in conservation of their territories. Alongside the government and local conservation authorities there is strict monitoring of the population of the animals in the region.
In pure transparency I hate hunting, especially as a sport. But it was somewhat reassuring to hear how they manage the overpopulation to maintain homeostasis.
It’s a satisfying sound to hear the crunch of snow beneath your hiking boots. I am an absolute child at this moment, so excited to explore the mountains, hear stories and learn more about his world straight from the source. A brief hike – more like a trail into the woods we went. It was beautiful. I loved the small flowing river surrounded by blankets of white snow. I felt compelled to see how cold and clean the water was. Hideo-san and the others once again chuckled at my excitement, but I wasn’t deterred, it also set the tone.
Although I was there to learn, experience and enjoy everything, my friends and our guides took it upon themselves to see how many ‘first time experiences’ I could get in this one trip.
*THWACK*. And that was the feeling of getting pelted in the back by a snowball. Another first to check off the list I guess.
The trail took us to a small wooden structure perched on top of a small ridge. We gathered around as Hideo-san began to explain some fundamental misconceptions of Matagi. As some may simply wrap them up in the term of hunters they continue their long tradition of reverence for nature, the mountains and the goddess who protects it. An incredibly jealous goddess, whom all those who venture into the mountains are at her mercy.
Hideo-san then proceeded to pull out an incredibly ugly, dried out stone fish called ‘Okoze’. This is an offering to the mountain goddess to placate her jealousy and hopefully receive her favor for both a safe and successful hunt. But if only it was so easy to satiate her.
Her jealousy is so strong that even the smell of a woman from the village could incur her wrath. In the past, it was common for the men to separate themselves and bathe in the icy waters, before going into the mountains. Perhaps through the ages the mountain goddess may have calmed down a bit on her rules.
We performed a simple ritual of “bathing” in incense and burning “morobi,”Japanese fir leaves to further mask our smells, followed by a prayer to ask for her favor.
We returned from our short forest adventure to Hideo-san’s home. A unique and personal opportunity to see photos, relics and tools passed down in his family from their Matagi life. He had a stew prepared. Filled with fresh ingredients, filled with flavor and spices, it was a delicious bonus alongside more stories of the Matagi and their culture.
We parted ways with Hideo-san there, and went to the nearby hotel to rest. The next day we would meet our next host. Oriyama-san, a Matagi member who operates his own guest house in the area.
We arrived at Oriyama-san’s guest house in the morning. Oriyama-san is a small but stoic Japanese man. He introduced himself, and his home with a sense of love and passion for his culture and roots. Oriyama-san brought out a large leather belt containing large, very sharp knives, which were reminiscent of Crocodile Dundee’s knife. These all-purpose knives are a Matagi’s lifeline when it comes to surviving the woods.
Oriyama-san’s house is nestled at the base of a large forested mountain that casts its shadow in the afternoon. We grabbed the gear and headed out to a camp site in the forest not too far from there.
The forest floor was dense with leaves and shrubbery, but all damp and slippery from the weather and climate. Not yet cold enough for snow but the frosting of the rain on the rocks could lead to a sudden swift descent if you weren’t careful.
Roughly thirty minutes deeper into the hike Oriyama-san pulled out his knife and gestures at a toppled tree branch. He began cutting away at one of the more slender branches and explained that walking sticks are a lifesaver when hiking these mountains. Especially in times of deeper snow, they provided a strong anchor to keep your footing along the path. Cue the cutting and chopping montage. I know I am innately competitive, and so I subconsciously found myself trying to find the perfect branch to make my walking stick.
It reminded me of my inner child and I thought to myself that I felt a bit like Gandalf on his journey through the Shire. The forest ignites your imagination, and what boy wouldn’t imagine being a wizard with their staff walking through forests.
Now reaching the ninety minute mark, in front of us, nestled between the trees are what seems to be about 20 tree stumps in a vague circle. We followed Oriyama-san closer to examine and were met with a pleasant surprise. This is his own mushroom cultivating ‘area’. Using mushroom spores, he had a small collection of fresh mushrooms slowly sprouting from the stumps and surrounding ground. The fun didn’t end there, it was time to pull out our Dundee blades and gently carve off a few mushrooms for our dinner. The evening meal was Kiritanpo, a traditional food from Akita Prefecture. Made by mashing cooked rice, forming it around a wooden stick, and grilling it. In our case it was served alongside a hot pot.
With comforting yet hunger-inducing thoughts we continued on our trek, through the winding trees and across small streams. The forest was peaceful, on the precipice of falling into the deep sleep that the snowy winters of Tohoku bring.
I thought that my hunger was really starting to get to me, as I could smell smoke, but to my pleasant surprise we had reached the small camp site. Fanning the flames of the small camp fire was Masuda-san, a friend of Oriyama-san. Finally! I thought to myself, I could feel my stomach rolling into a blackholed void of hunger.
It was time to have another “first”. Although incredibly hesitant and honestly reluctant, I would try some Matagi specialties, including bear.
I am sure most people when they try something “exotic,” expectations are set high. I was guilty of this, but the meat itself tasted like a slightly chewier game meat. It was ironically completely overshadowed by the powerhouse of the Matagi “travel food”. Oriyama-san had brought along a special type of butter mochi. Packed with calories, it was incredibly rich. But his little hiking feast also included his own homemade sake called doburoku. It was an unfiltered sake that’s thick, milky-white, and slightly sweet.
For someone like me, trying new foods and especially Japanese sake are lasting memories that I often come to associate with the places I visit. So I was truly grateful for the opportunity to tick off three more firsts.
We returned back to his home, but before eating dinner and resting for the night, it was time to indulge in one of the best delights Japan has to offer – onsen, Japanese hot spring baths. After soaking our bones in the warm waters, it was time for a night of good rest, because the next day we would head out on one of the famous Matagi trails, through Akamizu Gorge. A longer trail lasting several hours and due to the recent snowfall would be more challenging.
The start of the day began in the dark hours of the early morning. After we had breakfast and the absolutely necessary amount of coffee, we assembled outside Oriyama-san’s house. Like the day before, we gathered at the shrine near his house and performed the ritual. We presented the ugly little dried stone fish, burnt incense and morobi, and finally we prayed to the mountain goddess for her favor.
The trail head was a short drive from his house up winding roads, deeper into the mountains. It was time to test my new hiking boots and gear. Would they hold up against the wet and cold of the snow that had fallen overnight? I had my answer almost immediately. A friend who was a little less prepared was hiking in more casual shoes. While crossing a small stream across rocks, he slipped in and instinctively I tried to catch his arm. The result? One leg straight into the water. I’m sure the mountain goddess took pity and gave me some mercy, because my foot landed straight onto another rock submerged only slightly below the water. I didn’t even go ankle deep. My friend however, was knee deep in freezing water not more than 20 minutes into our several hour hike. Fortunately, we were still close enough to the parking lot and our car. He made a quick change of dry socks and pants, however his shoes were still soaked.
Dotted across the trail were sign posts and several trees, which were scarred with claw marks and embedded with fur. This was bear country after all. Every 10-15 minutes Oriyama-san and the rest of the group would let out a howl which could only be described as a bunch of aggressive monkeys howling to hear their own echoes.
After the initial embarrassment of attempting this ludicrous call, everyone grew more fond of it and it became something akin to a rally cry that kept morale high.
The rest of the journey was ups and downs along the icy rivers. One mistaken step on the icy rocks could mean a very cold plummet into the snow and water. Being so deep into the mountains meant having to be aware of bears and our step. The trip was exhausting both mentally and physically in the best way possible.
After several hours navigating the wilderness we would arrive at the prized destination. Tucked away deep into the northern mountains of Japan was Shin-Tamagawa Onsen hotel. This area is famous for its sulfurous hot spring onsen. The hotel was a welcome sight.
After shedding my damp and heavy clothes, I donned a yukata and headed immediately to the onsen.
I was absolutely floored. It had a tall, elevated roof with wooden beams. The steam and humidity from the waters created a hazy misting effect, as though I had stepped directly into a scene from a Ghibli film. What makes this onsen especially unique, is that there are multiple different baths with varying amounts of sulfur.
Immediately, I was determined to test every single one. Starting with the 10%, I didn’t notice anything so different from any other onsen. When I moved onto the 50%, I could sense the ever slight tingling on my body. However it was in the 100% bath that I really noticed it. The light stinging came from the small scratches and cuts on my body being cleansed by the waters.
It was not only the fact they had baths with different percentages, but also baths for different purposes. Your regular baths, a “walking” bath, where guests would wade through the stomach high waters, and the extreme heat baths with water temperatures above 50 degrees Celsius.
Another unique contraption caught my attention. A box that resembled a medieval torture device. It was a bench inside a box with two doors on the front. There was a circular cut-out in the doors where one’s head would be expected to pop out. I could only imagine how ridiculous I must have looked, in absolute bliss in my own private sauna box.
The last of my firsts was yet to happen. Although I saw thick white snow for the first time earlier, I had yet to experience proper snow fall. After soaking in all the baths in the main hall, I made my way to my final bath. It was a rotenburo, a hot spring outdoors exposed to the elements and icy-cold air. I quietly climbed into the steaming waters, submerged up to my shoulders and then it happened. I looked out and I could see the consistent graceful fall of snowflakes shimmering in the light. I was on cloud nine. What a wonderful journey I had embarked on.
My time with the Matagi was unique and incredible and coming to a close, but my travels in Tohoku were not even half way through. My next step would be heading further east to challenge segments of the Michi-no-Ku trail.
If this ignited your excitement to experience the wonders of the Matagi and their way of life, be sure to check the link below for a full in-depth tour itinerary for Matagi and so much more!
https://wawojapantours.com/tour/trekking-tour-across-tohoku-a-call-for-adventure-in-the-great-north/
<Content & Images>
All images not owned by WaWo Japan Travel were obtained from the following sources:
★ https://oriyamake.com/
★ https://www.shinjo-archive.jp/2017150066-2/
★ https://www.shintamagawa.jp/
Article Written By:
Ben Bramhill
Travel Consultant at WaWo Japan Travel
