Waiting for the train in Hospet, my former Japan resident current travel companion told me to try to hike “Mount Ahhso” if I had time. I felt younger than my 27 years when I laughed at what sounded like Mount Asshole and made him repeat the name a few times before he finally spelled it out for me. A-S-O. Mount Aso. Got it.
Fast forward to Fukuoka and me planning my final jaunt around Kyushu. I knew I wanted to get in one more mountain stop – a small village and a good hike, like all the places I’d loved so much in the past year – so I looked up his recommendation and happily discovered that Aso was located on the north part of the island in a place that would logically complete my Kyushu loop. Perfect.
I took a local train between Kumamoto and Aso. I remembered the train ride from Inle Lake to Kalaw and how I’d fallen for that town, and even though this train ran much smoother than that one did the romantic feeling and pretty scenery assured me that I had made the right decision in going to Aso. This was confirmed when we pulled into a small station and upon exiting I could see what looked like the whole town in front of me with the volcano billowing smoke in the not-so-far distance. I forgot to mention – Mount Aso, or Asosan, is the largest active volcano in Japan. Unfortunately this billowing smoke was not a good omen for my hike; it meant that I couldn’t go to the crater, the main attraction. There were still other hiking routes though up and around the mountain so I was not deterred.
I walked the block and a half to Aso Base Backpackers, which quickly became one of my favorite hostels of the trip. It felt like a modern lodge, with a wood-burning fireplace, a fully stocked and beautiful kitchen with an assortment of teas and coffees (my favorite was the apple tea), and a variety of seating options from a large tree-trunk table to the distinctly Japanese raised section with a leg-oven table (you sit with your legs underneath a table that is covered by a blanket and has a heater hanging from the top – it keeps you really warm). I went over the trail map with the receptionist and mapped out a plan for the next day. Even though the crater was closed I could hike from the hostel up the mountain, around a loop trail to see other inactive craters, and back down in about seven hours he estimated.
It only took me 4.5. That is, once I got going. I woke up the next morning to slanting, cold rain. I waited an hour with my Japanese breakfast sandwich (a soft-boiled egg inside an onigiri, delicious) and coffee until I gave up and went for it anyway, as bundled up as possible.
The hike up was eerie and mystical in a way, since I was walking entirely in cloud cover. Once in a while it would part and I would see a cow standing nearby in a field or a green grass-covered cone of a former volcano or a glimpse of the valley down below. Because I could barely see 10 feet in front of me I missed the turn for the path I meant to be hiking and ended up walking on road all the way up, but I chose to look at this mistake as a good mistake – I got to see a larger variety of scenery and hike up a different side of the mountain than I would hike down.
When I reached the top the weather was at its worst. I was actually in a cloud and it was seriously windy. I stopped by the visitors center and the woman said it would be that way all day. I asked about the loop hike and she said, “No, dangerous!” I went anyway. I didn’t climb up a mountain for nothing, I wanted to see some craters.
I couldn’t see anything. The path was a series of steep staircases that led to nothing but mist. The wind was so strong at one point that I had to sit down so I didn’t get blown off the side. I had no idea how far I would have fallen since I couldn’t see more than a couple of feet around me, if that. I had to admit defeat and climb back down. This actually was dangerous.
Once I got back to level ground the clouds parted, which at first was a frustrating tease now that I could have completed the loop, but then I got to see what I really came for: a huge puff of dark gray smoke rose out of the active crater. At least Asosan gave me this incredible sight as a reward for my trek. I had never been so close to an active volcano before; there’s something really mesmerizing about watching smoke pour out of a mountain, like watching fire burn.
I cheerily walked back down the path I had meant to take up, singing songs to myself and sometimes running to change it up a bit. The sun came out and I could see Aso town down below. The landscape was gorgeous.
The rest of my time in Aso was exactly the relaxing experience I wanted it to be. I went to the onsen (and luckily did not get kicked out for my tattoos), wrote at the cozy leg-oven table in my alpaca gear, and had my two final vending-machine-ordered meals at a local restaurant slash market (udon and katsu don).
I knew that the next day I would go back to Fukuoka and the day after that I would fly back to the United States. I looked back at my last week in Kyushu and was proud of myself for arranging the perfect assortment of locations. I was going out the right way.