I took an impromptu hike to the top of Kyoto's Mt. Hiei (比叡山) yesterday, about exhausting myself to death in the process. I'm much less in shape than I thought. I tagged along with Stéphane Barbery, who has done it several times of late.

I made the half-hour walk from my place to his, then we walked for another half hour or so to get to the trailhead next to the Baptist Hospital in eastern Kyoto....

The kind of Kyoto hikes I've done before have all had steep slopes, such as Daimonji, the local Higashiyama trails or other short hikes, but this Mt. Hiei hike was set apart by the mostly unrelenting slope.

Stéphane was clearly in better shape than I, as I was quickly huffing and puffing. And to make it worse, every time I paused for a few seconds to take a photo, I was that much further lagging behind, distance my ego required that I at least try to make up.

I actually recognized this ridgeline trail, having been on it once for a bit when popping up from the lower, simpler trail mentioned here.

I was pretty beat by this point, to put it mildly, and I was regretting that I had opted for some hiking boots that I'd not really used much. I had a few Band-Aids, but thankfully Stéphane had a few special blister Band-Aids that he let me have, and for a while my feet felt much better.

To this point the path had been decidedly up, but from here it dove steeply down...

As beat as I was, I would have preferred going up, because going down is extremely painful on my knees. Even when I visit a mountainside shrine like the Fushimi Inari Shrine I dread the downhill return trip because my knees soon start to hurt, on the outside edge just under the kneecap. Oddly, it hurts when I bend the knee while lifting the foot for the next step, and doesn't hurt at all when I then put my weight onto it. In the end, it often gets so bad that I actually turn around and go down backwards, which feels as odd as I suppose it looks, but it doesn't hurt that way.

So, this downhill stretch was really bad, and I took it slow. At the bottom was a small stream, then up again, then down again, and so on, for twenty minutes of pain until I got to about the halfway point of the whole climb, where Stéphane stops for a light energy snack. We ate and rested a bit, next to this monument....

Stéphane said that he makes a non-stop run to the top from this point, so explained where to find him if I couldn't keep up. I had no illusion that I would be able to keep up, so noted his instructions with care.

Not long after starting again from our rest, I got my first nice view of the city, behind the foreground of a bunch of power lines that someone so thoughtfully marred the view with.

I just couldn't keep up with him, and had to admit defeat (a defeat my body had been telling me about for some time). For the next 20 minutes or so I made slow, painful progress, sometimes pausing for 10 or 20 seconds to contemplate what I had gotten myself in to.

Despite his promise not to wait for me, he did wait at one fork in the path, and in something reminiscent of the “red pill / blue pill” scene in The Matrix, pointed out that if I wanted to return home quickly, I could take one path, but if I wanted to continue to the top with him, it was another way. How long, at your pace?, I asked. “10 minutes”. I was utterly beat, but I could go for another 10 minutes, so went his direction.

At one point we came across an old man dutifully setting a footstone into the path. I thanked him for his efforts as I went slowly by, then turned around to snap a shot.

Stéphane is laughing because of how positively exhausted I was, in light of the email conversation in the morning that had precipitated the hike:

Me:	I am planning to go for chicken this evening. Join me?
Stéphane:	I'm thinking of climbing Hieisan this afternoon, so I'm not sure I will be able to join.
Me:	Would you like company? I've never climbed it!
Stéphane:	Are you in good shape ? I'm walking fast with no or very few stops. It's a 4/5 hour walk (with usually blisters and heavy legs at the end). Just bring water (2 liters at least), if possible 2 walking sticks (I can provide a pair), and some snacks. Still interested ?
Me:	Sure, why not. What time leaving from your place? If I get tired, I'll just turn around. Is it mostly on paths, or should I have rugged shoes?
Stéphane:	12 ? I'll buy bento/snacks on the way. Yes rugged shoes. Paths can be slippy (specially on the way down). I do not recommend heavy camera the first time (the lighter the better, and the 2 liters of water are useful).
Me:	Okay, sounds good. See you then.

Perhaps he was laughing also at the situation: despite being almost too tired to walk, I was still snapping pictures with my big camera with the heavy Nikkor 24-70 f/2.8 zoom.

I had clearly bit off more than I could chew, and had not taken his warnings seriously. I guess I had images of previous hikes in my head, and images of me being in better shape than reality called for.

When I was in grad school in New Hampshire, I would think nothing of taking off for the day to pop up to the top of Mt. Washington by foot, a climb more than twice the distance I had done here, and a tougher climb as well. Something, I guess, tells me that I'm not quite as young as I was 25 years ago.

But now that I think of it, I should get credit for having walked uphill for half an hour to reach his place, but didn't think of it at the time. But really, I was completely devoid of energy, just exhausted. Wiped. Stéphane, for his part, looked as if he had taken an escalator the whole way.

We weren't at the very top of the mountain yet, and would not make it there. To reach our destination on this trip, we skirted around the edge of the mountain for half a kilometer, to a rest area with a nice view.

On the way, we passed under a cable car that goes from near the top to nearer the top....

After chugging my water, I lay down for 10 minutes while Stéphane ate lunch (and apparently used my camera). We sat for a while, then turned around to go home.

My knees would never handle the downhill return trip, so I availed myself of mechanical transport home, a story for another post.

Amazing (to me) was that after returning home and taking a rest, I was able to make the 30-minute walk to my favorite chicken-dinner place downtown, Uroko (mentioned here), for a delicious dinner and drinks with Nicolas Joannin and his lovely wife. Then walked back.

I slept well.

Continued here...