Accidental Climbing

On Sunday I went to Kinka mountain (although, being a west coaster, I often think the use of the word mountain is very liberally applied here, but it defintitely wasn't a hill). I had intended to enjoy a short hike to the top, visiting the shrine, enjoying the view, and following the recommendation of Corinne by "singing the mountains." I had worn my favourite sandals which are incredibly comfortable and often mistaken for slippers by those that see them. I had also packed my sketchbook, water, chocolate and music, should the need for any of the aforementioned arise.

I started through the concrete torii gates and ascended the first stage of mossy, leaf strewn stone steps in disarray. In some places, they no longer appeared to be steps, just errant stones that had tumbled down and happened to come to rest in a level place. The lanterns were still standing part-way up, but appeared to have suffered a little in the last earthquake, perhaps even being re-erected by local devotees. The base of one was all akimbo, while the other had lost a wedge off its hat.

Carrying on, I passed through a wooden torii gate and started to ascend a steep path that soon lost all resemblance to a trail. I chose not to follow the path to the right, as my intention was to make it to the shrine, and how could a trail that does not go through the torii possibly lead to solitude and reverence? It turns out I had chosen the path less travelled as the route rapidly devolved into bushwhacking and rock climbing. I was not appropriately dressed.

After climbing some rock faces and coming to a small secondary shrine-- not the intended -- I was encouraged, and thus ascended the rock in behind, as surely the main shrine couldn't be that much farther? However I was sadly misled as I was confronted with shrubbery that had reclaimed it's ground, and a more foreboding rock and some steep drops. It is possible they weren't all that steep, but as someone who is not an afficionado of heights, they were steep enough to deter me from continuing. I phoned a friend and conveyed my verbal will, told her where to find me if I didn't show up in a few days. I sat at the top of a drop for a few minutes enjoying the birdsongs, and began my slide down (I felt far more comfortable sliding down on my behind than I did trusting my sandals). I came across a wheel. A car wheel. I pondered it's presence, wondering who would be insane enough to cart the whole wheel up to that point, or whether it dropped out of the sky...

And once again, I accidentally climbed a mountain.