Hichiso Trip #1 (Gifu Prefecture)

20-21 September 2024: Wherein I explore an alternative north-bound route to that used in the July excursion to Gero, and face a trade-off between convenience and solitude.

After the first trip to Gero and the awful experience with the washed-out hiking trail leading into Gifu Prefecture (the so-called “Aichi Nature Trail” [愛知自然道]), as well as accidentally reserving a campsite 40 kilometers further north than I had intended (oops), I decided to explore alternative arrangements for this first leg of future journeys to the hot spring resort.

For this one-nighter, I chose a route a little to the east, passing through Seto (a pottery town familiar from several visits) and Tajimi. This promised a more gradual ascent over established roads. As a campground, I reserved a spot at my originally intended target, Futoppara Campground near the small mountain town of Hichisō on the Hida River.

Campground access

As a preliminary note, the campground is near the top of a ridge overlooking the town below, and off the beaten path. The reviews in Google provide a clear explanation of the route, but for those who (like me) have a talent for misinterpreting directions, here is a map of the road in from Route 41, and a GPX data file to roll your own guidance in the navigation app of your choice. Don’t be deceived by the seemingly flatish curve in the elevation profile: significant portions of the climb are at a 10% to 13% grade. If arriving by bicycle, budget an hour or more for this last 3-kilometer segment, and plan on walking much of the distance.

Map of a route from Route 41 in Hichisō to the Futoppara Campground
Map of a route from Route 41 in Hichisō to the Futoppara Campground
A chart of elevations over the route from Route 41 in Hichisō to the Futoppara Campground
A chart of elevations over the route from Route 41 in Hichisō to the Futoppara Campground

Outbound: Nisshin to Hichisō via Seto and Tajimi

As noted above, I travelled north on a route running through Seto rather than Kasugai. I didn’t realize it until I arrived in Seto itself, but the course ran straight past a favorite vendor of daifuku. On impulse, I picked up a few as gifts for the couple operating the campground.

Map of a route from Nisshin to Futoppara Campground in Hichisō
Map of a route from Nisshin to Futoppara Campground in Hichisō
A chart of elevations over the route from Nisshin to Futoppara Campground in Hichisō
A chart of elevations over the route from Nisshin to Futoppara Campground in Hichisō

On a wide thoroughfare heading north out of (I think) Nagakute, I passed a bouquet of flowers tied to a guard rail beside the fast-moving traffic. A melancholy scene, these are almost certainly memorial flowers placed by a relative of someone who lost their life at this intersection.

Faded flowers in a plastic wrapper tied to a guardrail, with traffic in motion in the roadway beyond.
Faded flowers in a plastic wrapper tied to a guardrail, with traffic in motion in the roadway beyond.

The chosen route did avoid the horrendous washed-out trail north of Kasugai; and technically it is an easier ride, with separated bikeway over most of the distance to the inland plain around Kani and a very gradual rise over the distance. Unfortunately, this also makes the route attractive to cars and trucks, particularly those that are in a hurry. Midway to Tajimi I became so rattled by the constant roar of vehicles blasting past that I stopped to put in earplugs. In a bitter spot of irony, the junction where I paused sported a sign for an industrial park run by SRAM, the bicycle component manufacturer. The second, third, and fourth photos below were taken in rapid sequence, and may give an idea of just how much vroom-vroom was happening here. Apart from me, there wasn’t a bicycle in sight.

A black and red roadside sign of clean design standing behind rusted guardrails, and reading “SRAM Park Seto” and (in English translation) “Turn left, 2.4 kilometers”.
A black and red roadside sign of clean design standing behind rusted guardrails, and reading “SRAM Park Seto” and (in English translation) “Turn left, 2.4 kilometers”.
A white sedan and a truck driving past the sign at the roadside.
A white sedan and a truck driving past the sign at the roadside.
A small blue van following the sedan and truck from the previous photograph.
A small blue van following the sedan and truck from the previous photograph.
A large truck with a steel box for hauling construction rubbish, following the van, sedan, and truck from the previous photographs.
A large truck with a steel box for hauling construction rubbish, following the van, sedan, and truck from the previous photographs.

Entering Tajimi at the city’s south edge, the mapped route had me easing away from the heavily trafficked artery onto a minor road. I missed the turn, but that was fortunate in its way: the side road would have taken me over the hill in a steep climb, while the main road that I accidentally remained on runs through a tunnel (平和トンネ ル) and avoids the climb. That was very welcome, as the day was beginning to heat up. Judging that the risk of accident through heat-induced delerium would be larger with the helmet than without, I stashed it in favor of a headscarf and donned the windscreen sunglasses. The sign marks the entrance to a short underground passage at the north end of the tunnel, leading to the next segment of separated bikeway. The sign behind me reads, “In the event of emergency, please report with the following underpass name: ‘Takikawa Daira No. 1 Underpass’” with contact details for police, fire department, and the Tajimi City civil engineering department.

A man in a yellow cycling jersey, wearing a grey headscarf and reflective wrap-around sunglasses. There is a yellow sign on the wall behind, and a glassed roof overhead, presumably to keep the passageway clear in the event of snow.
A man in a yellow cycling jersey, wearing a grey headscarf and reflective wrap-around sunglasses. There is a yellow sign on the wall behind, and a glassed roof overhead, presumably to keep the passageway clear in the event of snow.

Reaching the campsite after arrival in Hichisō was a bit of an adventure, for which I have no photos to show. I do have GPS data of my meanderings, but the crayon scratchings representing the aimless path trodden through the forest isn’t particularly informative so I’ll leave that to the imagination. In the end I was able to make contact with the owners by phone, and after a little over an hour spent pushing bike and cargo up the hill, I arrived at Futoppara Campground, was greeted by the wife of the couple and paid the camp fee. When presented with a bottle of tea, I was happy to remember the daifuku that I’d picked up in Seto. The day’s journey had been a long one and the heat just barely within tolerance, but everything worked out nicely in the end.

I changed clothing and pitched the tent before dark, and as soon as the temperature dropped enough to make lying down in the still air inside the tent tolerable, I hit the sack without eating. I woke up at about 11:00 in the evening, and cooked up about half of the camping rations I’d brought along: a block of mochi boiled, seasoned with soy, and wrapped in nori; and miso dissolved in the hot water to wash it down.

Three blue pannier bags hanging from the branches of a Japanese maple tree, in an area flattened and finished in gravel. At the left edge of the photo there is a stone bench with a camp stove and moka pot.
Three blue pannier bags hanging from the branches of a Japanese maple tree, in an area flattened and finished in gravel. At the left edge of the photo there is a stone bench with a camp stove and moka pot.
A gravelled area with a row of trees some 10 meters away, and a stone bench in the foreground on which water bottles and other cooking gear rest, with a pannier bag and makings of a tent lying on the ground in front.
A gravelled area with a row of trees some 10 meters away, and a stone bench in the foreground on which water bottles and other cooking gear rest, with a pannier bag and makings of a tent lying on the ground in front.
A chest-up photo of a bald man in a chequered shirt, with a tree shading a utility shed in the background, and a patch of blue sky beyond.
A chest-up photo of a bald man in a chequered shirt, with a tree shading a utility shed in the background, and a patch of blue sky beyond.

I woke up early enough to enjoy the sunrise.

Blue sky over mountain tops, rimmed with clouds tinged with pink overhead. A village spreads out in the valley below.
Blue sky over mountain tops, rimmed with clouds tinged with pink overhead. A village spreads out in the valley below.
Brilliant patches of hot yellow burn through cumulus clouds over a mountain above, with pink and purple hues touching the clouds against a blue sky.
Brilliant patches of hot yellow burn through cumulus clouds over a mountain above, with pink and purple hues touching the clouds against a blue sky.

Autumn leaves weren’t part of the plan for this trip: the scheduling of it was driven mostly by weather and the state of the garden back home. I nearly go lucky though. The leaves of two maple trees planted in the camp grounds were just beginning to show signs of turning. Another week to go perhaps? I should pay more attention.

I packed up and took off around 9:00, narrowly missing the husband of the couple, who I hope to meet next time!

A branch of a Japanese maple with leaves just beginning to show signs of autumn color. A stone bench on which water bottles are resting is visible in the background below.
A branch of a Japanese maple with leaves just beginning to show signs of autumn color. A stone bench on which water bottles are resting is visible in the background below.
A branch of a Japanese maple with leaves just beginning to show signs of autumn color. A one-man tent is visible in the background.
A branch of a Japanese maple with leaves just beginning to show signs of autumn color. A one-man tent is visible in the background.

Return: Hichisō to Nisshin via Kasugai and Owari-Asahi

For the trip home, I decided that I’d had enough of the buzz-buzz of traffic on the Tajimi/Seto route of the previous day, and reverted to the Kasugai route of the earlier tour to Gero. I knew that this would involve some long, slow, walk-and-rest climbs, and a descent down a steep, washed-out, rocky footpath past the Kasugai Country Club, but that seemed the better bargain of the two.

Map of a route from Futoppara Campground in Hichisō to Nisshin
Map of a route from Futoppara Campground in Hichisō to Nisshin
A chart of elevations over the route from Futoppara Campground in Hichisō to Nisshin
A chart of elevations over the route from Futoppara Campground in Hichisō to Nisshin

For breakfast, I repeated my midnight meal of boiled mochi with nori and soy followed by miso soup, supplemented this time with coffee brewed with the little moka pot. All the comforts of home.

The segment down to Kani on the inland plain was identical to the trip up, with two bridge crossings over the Hida River, which has cut a minor canyon into the bedrock for startling up- and down-stream views.

A river of crystal clear water flowing down a shallow rock-lined canyon, with dense forest encroaching on the banks at the top of the cut.
A river of crystal clear water flowing down a shallow rock-lined canyon, with dense forest encroaching on the banks at the top of the cut.
A river of crystal clear water flowing down a shallow rock-lined canyon, with dense forest encroaching on the banks at the top of the cut.
A river of crystal clear water flowing down a shallow rock-lined canyon, with dense forest encroaching on the banks at the top of the cut.
A river of crystal clear water flowing down a shallow rock-lined canyon, with dense forest encroaching on the banks at the top of the cut.
A river of crystal clear water flowing down a shallow rock-lined canyon, with dense forest encroaching on the banks at the top of the cut.
A river of crystal clear water flowing down a shallow rock-lined canyon, with dense forest encroaching on the banks at the top of the cut.
A river of crystal clear water flowing down a shallow rock-lined canyon, with dense forest encroaching on the banks at the top of the cut.

Rolling through Kawabe (the town just north of Kani), I stopped at the first vending machine I spotted, to stock up on drinking water. Many rural vending machines have seen some wear and tear, but this one was a pristine brilliant yellow, and with the mock-denim blue of the bike panniers the scene somehow reminded me of Wes Anderson imagery. A bit of physical trivia boldly declaring its presence, straining for an unspoken significance.

And indeed, a man appeared as I pushed coins into the slot and tucked bottles of water into their places. He asked where I was from in a friendly way and we chatted. The owner of the electrical engineering firm behind the vending machine (physically), his company does work for Toyota and other automotive firms, in Japan and also in the US and Mexico. He struck me as someone who would be good to work for. We wished one another well and I was on my way.

A bright yellow vending machine for drinks, with a bicycle loaded with blue panniers in front, and a row of water bottles set out beside the bike and in front of the machine.
A bright yellow vending machine for drinks, with a bicycle loaded with blue panniers in front, and a row of water bottles set out beside the bike and in front of the machine.

In these trips north to Gero and points between, all roads seem to lead past the Ruck Cafe in Kani. In my return from Gero back in May I had stopped there mid-afternoon, tired, hot, disheveled and badly in need of a cool place in the shade and something to eat. Hichisō is much closer, and on this occasion I arrived in good time for lunch, although again hot and disheveled from the ride. The main lunch combo was my first proper meal since heading out, and the variety was a treat! The full staff were on hand for the Saturday luncheon rush, including the waitress that I had met on the last trip, so we had a laugh. Staff and customers were all women, which I imagine explains the style and quality of the lunch: it’s hard to cut corners when serving a clientele with years of experience preparing lunch boxes.

There is a Kaikatsu Club shared workspace in Kani, and they recently added shower facilities. On my next pass through town, I’ll try to swing by there and clean up before hitting the cafe. I fear they may grow weary of a sweaty bedraggled cyclist dropping in at intervals, disarming though his inane smile may be.

A lunch plate with: a salad of grilled tofu, sprouts and shimeji mushrooms; braised pumpkin squash rolled in sesame; fried vegetables; apple slices; pickled myōga; pickled lotus root, carrot, and cucumber salad; and chicken tatsuta-age with miso soup and hot coffee
A lunch plate with: a salad of grilled tofu, sprouts and shimeji mushrooms; braised pumpkin squash rolled in sesame; fried vegetables; apple slices; pickled myōga; pickled lotus root, carrot, and cucumber salad; and chicken tatsuta-age with miso soup and hot coffee

When setting out, I remembered the misery of a particular climb back in May up the hills at the boundary of Gifu and Aichi prefectures, and I had the forethought to pack my gardening hat with the mosquito net rolled into the crown. With the “reversion” to the the Kasugai course on this day, the hat made a huge difference. I pushed the bike most of the way up that hill—it’s a very steep climb—and while doing so had the pleasure of hearing the flies buzz in futility around my ears and watching them crawl about on the netting in front of my face.

Blurry, overlit image of a man in a yellow riding jersey wearing a floppy-brim hat with drop-down mosquito net. A portion of a bicycle and some forest trees are in the background.
Blurry, overlit image of a man in a yellow riding jersey wearing a floppy-brim hat with drop-down mosquito net. A portion of a bicycle and some forest trees are in the background.

The bug-infested segment led on to the huge solar installation and the “survival game” park at the top of the ridge above Kasugai. As I approached this segment, I realized that, thanks to leaving cellular data on all day, my spare battery was fully spent, and the phone had only a 20% charge remaining. Happily I knew the route from this point pretty well from the previous trip, and was able to turn the phone off and wing it. From the top of the ridge the route enters the unpaved Aichi Nature Trail, which leads to a freeway crossing, and thence to a sharp descent to the Kasugai Country Club.

When I reached the unsurfaced trail, it struck me just how much worse it was than I had remembered. Some of that may have been due to further thunderstorm activity and runoff over the summer; but I also think that on the first excursion I was so preoccupied with confirming I was on track according to the GPS marker in the app, and so trusting that a promise in the map of trail ahead was good news, that I wasn’t fully aware of the poor condition of the trail. The footing is currently so bad that I think descent without a bicycle to lean on would be pretty tough. At the very least you’d want boots with solid support to avoid twisting an ankle.

From Kasugai Country Club it was pretty much smooth sailing downhill from there to Owari-Asahi, then Nagakute, and thence to Nisshin. I arrived home before dark (a first for an overnight excursion!), and treated myself to a meal at the local Hiroshima-style okonomiyaki house.