Hiroshima trail running: Ushitayama and Futabayama

Looking south to Hiroshima Bay from Ushitayama

It has taken me some time and distance to be able to write about this run as we were only in Hiroshima because we were fleeing the Fukushima nuclear disaster of March 2011. How paradoxical it was to wind up in Hiroshima, synonymous with the atom bomb and the effects of radiation; but luckily for us friends had offered us shelter for a couple of weeks. I spent most of the time trying and failing to get the authorities and institutions in the city to respond to the crisis, in particular to support the evacuation of children in areas of eastern Fukushima with high levels of radiation. Most are still there in areas that should have been evacuated. Running was a surreal but necessary antidote to the stress and fear of this time, a bubble of normality and beauty....and the gift of temporary forgetfulness.

Ushitayama behind the Ota river and its running path

Hiroshima, like most Japanese cities and towns, is surrounded by hills and mountains and some even poke their heads above the rising tide of buildings within the city itself, protected by their steepness and instability. The horseshoe ridge between Ushitayama and Futabayama is one such survivor, just two kilometers from ground zero and ranged above the Ota river, once full of the bodies of the burned, now the placid companion of joggers and dog walkers. To be in Hiroshima is to inhabit this double identity, the glib present and an inescapable history. It's in the fabric of the place, and literally still, the soil. Sometimes it is necessary to forget for a while, but it is a shame that in 2011 the administration were unable to make the link between Hiroshima's history and the immediate need of Fukushima's children.

A wild boar-proofed flower bed at the top of Ushitayama

I left our accommodation by the river, crossing the busy dual carriageway and ran up through a park with it's incongruous "English Rose Garden" and up a dusty track between signs warning of Inoshishi, wild boar. Signs of their rummaging mastery of this island in the concrete were everywhere at the path side. How quickly the air beneath the trees, their tangled roots and the need to push against gravity worked their everyday magic, the weight of what was happening falling away as my mind was forced to concentrate on balance, co-ordination and finding my way along unknown paths.

Looking east from the ridge

Looking south across downtown Hiroshima

Someone had adopted the top of the hill and made a shelter and flowerbeds. What a nice haven this must be for people living below with little space and no garden. It looks as if people people walk up here and take in the space, free for an hour or two. Over a couple of runs I realized that a ridge formed a semi-circle, with some kind of temple structure on a hill at the far end. I went back and made a circuit of it.

Futabayama crowned by the Peace Pagoda

Futayaba's cemetary and Peace Pagoda with ground zero beyond

As I reached the small area of flat ground near the top of Futayaba I was alarmed to see a big German Shepherd dog jumping up at a man. He was wearing a padded arm and was training the dog to attack. Why? Who was he? An off-duty policeman and his dog, or someone injecting some power into his life through control? A potent symbol in any case, especially next to the ethereal structure only meters away.

Futabayama Peace Pagoda which is in the form of a large Stupa

Dropping into the streets again the schools were emptying, ordinary life unaccountably continuing as if Fukushima was a different country far away with no common history. It can't be understood, but at least there is the consolation of the hills and the simplicity of good food. In Hiroshima that can mean Okonomiyaki like this small local specialist cafe that we found.

Hiroshima City were not yet providing accommodation for evacuees, so we had to move on. I returned to exhibit my collaborative portraits of Fukushima's children at the invitation of the organisers of the annual Peace exhibition and met and drew some Hibakusha  (atom bomb survivors). There I also met activists whose dedication and compassion showed another side of the city.


More on the stupa:
http://gethiroshima.com/museums-attractions/peace-pagoda/
My blog on living in Fukushima:
http://livinginaizu.blogspot.co.uk/

 

Mt Kongo Climbing Challenge Trail Race, near Osaka, Kansai - April

Mt Kongo, south of Osaka - seen from Katsuragi-san

35km, 2,000m of climb and descent on fast runnable paths (22 miles / 6,000ft) 2012 winning times: men 3.14.45 (439 finishers), women: 4.44.18 (83 finishers), veteran men over 45: 3.59.12 (307 finishers). Total finishers: 829 (1016 starters).

I seem to be making a habit of ending up in the last group to start in 'wave start' races - an especially bad idea when there is a walking event tagged on to the race. 35km of trail filled with walkers and runners adds up to an awful lot of overtaking and apologising (around 2,000 times!), so if you know the route, get there really early and go in the first group off - I tell myself....again! Most of the front runners were in the early starts, though I'm impressed to see that some fast times were done from the back, so it can be done.

One of the last groups of 50 to start

Kongo-san is the name used for a well known and often walked group of mountains on the south east edge of Osaka. The ridge is not particularly interesting or dramatic, and the paths are fast and runnable, with most slopes covered in pesky steps. No doubt some of paths on the flanks are more testing and attractive. The race, the 38th Kongo Climbing Challenge, started at the small park 1km NW of Nijojinja station, went over the saddle just south of Nijo-san, then joined the main ridge over to Mt Katsuragi, Kongo-san, and the ridge heading south then south-west from there, before descending into the valley to the north and following the road to finish at Anami station.

Full of people on race day - keep to the sides

I jogged the course slowly the week before (and took the following photos) - and was passed by a whip of a runner steaming along at race pace - I guessed he would be in the first few come the day. He wasn't for chatting and flew past which emphasised the bad day I was on - cheers mate. It was good to know where I was going and how quickly to start, though I still had to ask at one confusing junction. Before answering the two young women I asked cried out 'Sugoi! Samui desu ka?' (Fanatastic - aren't you cold?), which is compulsory when faced with a foreigner in shorts and a vest when most are still wrapped up.

Mt Katsuragi 968.9m - good views from the top but not much to look at

Having checked the course makes it seem to pass more quickly in the race. It also taught me that on the uphill stepped sections it was often quicker and easier to find trods through the trees to one side. One way or another I was passing people all the way, and feeling good in the fresh sunny conditions.

A concrete and dirt road leads up this valley towards Mt Kongo, 1,125m

Although the course has 2,000m of climbing a lot of it is in undulations, the main climbs being up onto the ridge, up Kasuragi-san, and up Kongo-san. After Kongo-san there is very little climbing and the path gets more attractive as this section is less walked.

Steep stone steps around half-way - tricky when full of nervous joggers and walkers

There isn't any technical terrain, and the only steep rough section with stone steps was so full of people it was hard to let rip, and a marshal was there warning us to be careful (aw, sweet). I gave it a go, though, as is my wont, and put the wind up a few nervous souls. If they ever organise a championship series in Japan they would have to select race only events - walkers really cramp your descending style.

Gentle joggle checking the second half of the course, with bear bamboo

After Kongo -san I had worked through the field and thankfully it got a bit quieter, with mainly just runners to pass on the increasingly pleasant and less engineered paths, sometimes on springy leaf litter with dappled sunlight. OK, time to get going.

Run me, run me...

I was feeling good now, having paced myself correctly, and enjoyed pressing on, using each group I came up behind as a target. I caught up with a guy I had chatted to on the train on the way there whose start time was half an hour earlier. "Let's run together - two people are faster than one!" he said. That's sometimes true, but I was on a roll and sadly he was soon out of the back. Sorry mate. I concentrated on working hard uphill on the small undulations along the last ridge, knowing that the descent and road run-in would be OK whatever state I was in.

The final ridge SW from Mt Kongo

I was looking out for the turn sharp right off the ridge, and found that fortunately it was the one I had reccied the week before. Jumping down huge steps fit for giants made for painful thighs, but once on the valley road it was just a few kilometres blast to the finish. Everyone was lounging around in the sunshine, and I bumped into the guy I had run part of the Mt Rokko race with 3 weeks before. He turned out to be a hard-working fireman. A couple changed from their immaculate running gear into their immaculate going home gear, carefully brushing their already clean shoes before walking to the station.

Most of the course seen from the East

I waited for my friend Richard to finish his first ever race, which he duly did in good form. He was excellent entertainment value on the way home, as he experience his first ever leg cramps. Unfortunately for him this happened on a train carriage full of unsmiling and formal looking people. He suddenly arched his back with a shocked look on his face and lurched to his feet, proceeding for the next 10 minutes to execute what looked like an experimental modern dance exploring the tragedy of the human condition, whilst asking "What is it? What's happening to me?" through gritted teeth. He was bustin' some serious moves. I know how excruciating cramp can be, but his simultaneous attempts to look normal in the rigidly conformist context of the Japanese train, not cry out and explain to the stony faced passengers in polite Japanese that he wasn't ill, he had just done a mountain race (which I think they took as proof that he was indeed mentally ill), made keeping a straight face difficult. My normal way of helping someone with cramp, which would be to throw them on their backs, grab their heels and shake, followed by massage, would probably not have helped the situation. The cloistered sanctity of the railway carriage must not be disturbed. Apparently.

Later the results and an unusually tasteful race shirt arrived (no sponsor's logos, hooray!). I finished in 4.31.18 for 13th in the V45 race from 371 starters (7th V50 if they had that category), which overall was 60th from 912 men starters.

The Mt Kongo Climbing Challenge Race takes place in early April - enter in advance through Sportsentry. For race organiser's website click here (Japanese)