Michinoku Coastal Trail
BTIF walks around
Watching Helene wreak havoc on our favorite place on earth from afar was tough. We scrolled through news feeds attempting to make sense of the situation, hoping to hear from friends despite texts not going through. Soon after, our donations to relief efforts felt insignificant in the wake of what we were seeing, and so we decided to integrate some places into our itinerary that might offer some insight to a place like Asheville after a thing like Helene.
Our seven-day trek on the Michinoku Coastal Trail (MCT) gave us a glimpse into a(n admittedly Japanese-looking) possible future. On it, we discovered quiet hollows still all-but-evacuated from the 2011 earthquake and tsunami, large scale co-created art projects, tiny tributes to the tragedy dotting the coastline, expansive free community spaces, and grand art installations remembering those lost. We tried to document as much as we could and to learn from locals about the recovery efforts leading up to what we were walking through a decade+ later. But first, we had to get there:
Day -3: Our first shinkansen ride was tricky. We arrived at the Tokyo version of Grand Central with what we thought was plenty of time to store our bags and grab some food before departure. After 2 hours of traversing every inch of the place, as Chester screamed to be let out of his stroller, we finally found a storage kiosk with oversized luggage capabilities and free space, conveniently located right beneath our terminal. With minutes to spare, we obnoxiously ravaged through our open luggage, making last minute decisions on what to stow, and what to bring on the trek.
When we finally did board, Chester despised the quiet ambiance of the bullet train, rejected his bento box, and screamed the whole ride North as we carried him from silent car to car in his backpack, hoping he would drift off to sleep. We arrived in Hachinohe and sprinted to our connecting local train and arrived shortly thereafter to our soon to be favorite hotel chain, the Dormy Inn1.
Day -2: Charting the Course: After a solid night’s rest and our first onsen of the trip, we ubered to Tanesashi Kaigan Information Center, situated next to the greatest coastal lawn the world has ever known (see video.) While we’d relied on guides for all (read: two) former treks with Chester, Liz figured she could figure this one out by leveraging the Japanese brochures and visitor desk at the center. Five laborious hours later, and thanks to the endlessly kind and patient center associate, we emerged with an itinerary and all accommodations booked.2 While at best a rough itinerary, we optimized for doable mileage with a convenient safety net of the local train running up and down our route in case we had to cheat here or there. The center associate (whose name we regrettably forget, but she was so nice) took us through the information center’s archives on the storm, detailing the extent of the massive damages and subsequent relief efforts, which were continuing to this day3. At the tail end of our research trip to the center, Liz met a kind Canadian couple that took pity on her and gifted their official ‘Walk Japan’ guidebook replete with step-by-step directions and photographs of each turn in the journey.
We taxied back to our Dormy home-away-from-home, ate some delectable pizza for the second time, and rested before the grand beginning of our trek.
10/27 - Day 1: Kabushima —> Taneichi
Alex cut out early morning to the Tatehana Wharf Morning Market where he snagged a tie dye chore jacket best described as “tree-inspired” and some Chuck Taylor knock-offs covered in (drawings of) sushi. We then shipped our luggage to another Dormy Inn we’d arrive to at the trek’s end and set off with our impressively light packs to the MCT trailhead. We ascended the first of many steep staircases to visit a shrine bestowing safety on fishermen, got our trail stamp4, and embarked on an epic coastline walk. We marveled at the massive concrete tetrapod embankments5 sprinkled against seawalls and were overcome with the sense that these ramparts were erected to wage a war they’d inevitably lose with the sea. Even more ominous than the alien-looking structures was the trail’s eerily beautiful desolation; despite this being a monument to a multi-billion dollar relief effort, townspeople and other hikers were nowhere to be found. We discovered occasional proofs of life that endeared us to the region. There was the random schoolyard we ended up in after bushwhacking through a wrong turn, and a mile long mural of crudely painted sea life and amateur sketches of people fishing seaside apparently assembled by Aomori Prefecture. The sun set just in time for us to catch a train to the Marine Side Spa Taneichi, a lovable YMCA-equivalent bathhouse, guesthouse, restaurant and massage chair parlor rolled into one.
10/28 - Day 2: Taneichi —> Rikuchi Naka
After breakfast the next morning, we realized Alex had left his hiking polls at the train station five miles back. Despite his manly strength, he needed those when lugging Chester “for Chester’s safety”. We rushed back to the station via taxi realizing our mistake, but of course the polls were sitting exactly where he’d left them. The second day’s walk was much like the day before with the added bonus of a tiny Chester-sized playground we happened upon post-lunch. We also found some lush fields of squash growing under giant solar panels, which wouldn’t be the last time we saw renewable energy-meets-smallholder-farming littering the landscape.
10/29 - Day 3: Rikuchi Naka —> Kuji
After missing the morning train to our intended starting point (yes, we overpromised and underdelivered on actual mileage pretty much every day) we requested a taxi from the hotel. A few kilometers into the ride, the driver got a call and abruptly pulled over, proceeding to inform us that we’d have to drive back. After much confusion, we learned that the hotel had found the Walk Japan book we’d intentionally discarded, and they were petrified that we’d be unable to proceed without it. We thanked them for their concern, assured them that it would be fine to continue without, and proceeded to walk ~6 kilometers downhill in the wrong direction to an impassible stream, emerging hours hours later with only a photo of this rock that looks like a gorilla’s face.
We found a nearby train station, and resolved to walk what we believed was just a few more kilometers to our next trail stamp, but were disappointed to learn that the half mile patch of Google Map green we’d hoped to cross was an impassible cliffside. Losing daylight once again, we stomped down another desolate winding road to finally arrive at a bond-villain-esque aquatic center within an industrial hydro plant where blistered Liz refused to walk a step further. We taxi’d to the Kuji Grand Hotel where Liz shuffled to dinner at a gratuitously hip ramen spot in paper hotel slippers and proposed a rest day.
10/30 - Day 4: Kuji—> Rikuchi Noda
And on the 4th day, we rested! We found an exquisite coffee shop with A-grade pastries and games, collected some additional stamps in the Kuji Visitor center and learned more about the famous Kuji pearl divers6. We also learned, and agreed, that Kuji is the self-proclaimed friendliest small town in Japan (see Day 5).
10/31 - Day 5: Rikuchi Noda —> Eboshi so
When we arrived to the train station7 the following morning, the gate agent took one look at Chester and promptly advised us that we’d left our diapers at the coffee shop the morning before. As we hurried back to the coffee shop to retrieve our lost diapers, a stranger we passed also alerted us that they’d been looking for us and we’d better go back for the diapers. The friendliness of Kuji was not to be trifled with.
After retrieving the missing diapers, we caught a train about a mile from Tofugaura Park, which included multiple jungle gyms, a driving range, and walking trails protected by a massive concrete wall all constructed post-tsunami. After exploring the park for a bit and grabbing another hot green tea from a vending machine8 we passed through a symbolic concrete doorway facing out to the sea constructed in memory of the lives lost in the 2011 tsunami.
We then crossed a persimmon tree grove, and met an elder lady farmer who would not let us take her photo despite a very pleasant google translate-assisted exchange. We then popped into a winery(?) built atop a casual miners museum enabling an animatronic tour experience deep into a mineshaft that Liz refused to complete. As she waited for Alex to finish being creeped out by the EPCOT-esque figures in the mine, she wandered into the wine tasting room where she completed a quick flight paired with some chocolate-marinated tin fish. She still gags thinking about it, but we paid to ship some back home because why not. The day continued on its bizarre trajectory, following a trail that led inexplicably straight into the ocean, then scaling a sand dune to a barely visible distant trailhead. A lot of the trail markers were faded blue plastic ribbons threaded onto tree limbs or taped haphazardly to a bit of fencing; not always easy to spot. Our pace quickened as we entered a gloomy forest near sundown and remembered that it was Halloween.
11/1 - Day 6: Eboshi so —> Kurosaki so
One of our favorite legs of the walk, we weaved along the shoreline through a massive commercial fishery and into the woods gaining way more elevation than we did on prior days. We then walked through a series of tunnels and roadways built straight into the side of the ocean cliffs, and took a shortcut that sadly skipped one of the most epic chapters of the hike that would’ve been through cavernous - tunnels requiring a headlamp9 opting instead for a curvy uphill road packed with blind turns after dark. At last we found the beloved Kurasaki so just in time to hit the onsen before dinner.
11/2 - Day 7: Kurosaki so —>Hiraiga Kaiso
Our last day of trekking had a huge payoff, arriving in Tanohata where we climbed down and up ~25 flights of stairs to explore the massive cliffside boulders and caves down at the shoreline. After Liz ate some tasty seawater ramen and Alex and Chester split an ice cream, we taxi’d it to Hotel Ragaso - a true splurge! The dinner was world class, packed with tuna sashimi that Liz would come to regret after learning she was in fact pregnant the next day! We slept soundly in another beloved Japanese-style tatami room, sad that the trek was almost over, but ready to stay still for a few days.
11/3 - Day 8: Hiraiga Kaiso →Morioka
The next morning we took a long walk to a train that would never come, and then another long walk to the smallest train of the trip - just one car! - to a bus to another bus to our resting haven, the Dormy Inn Morioka! The end.
So, what were some takeaways from this week-ish long excursion? These are pretty intuitive, but bear with us:
Flip the script - The narrative of the 1000km trail relies on aspects of the region that aren’t the most uplifting, but framed artfully they make Tohoku compelling to visit. Instead of rebuilding Asheville to be a carbon copy of what was there before and just telling that old story, orient around the dynamic revitalization effort afoot and how it has enriched this already beautiful place.
Make walking and biking easy. This should be a given, but in Asheville it’s not. Greenways and bike lanes are spectacular ways to welcome visitors (and residents) back to an area and can be notable landmarks for marketing a place too. This is specifically something we want to volunteer some energy towards, and there are some local orgs already on the case.
Pay tribute. Natural disasters change a place irrevocably - don’t just sweep this under the rug. Tributes to what has been lost are essential and can be beautiful works of art.
Look outdoors. (Re)-build with extraordinary public outdoor spaces in mind, and reimagine what could benefit the community. Does a pizza oven make more sense than what used to be a charcoal grill? Probably! But in all seriousness, wouldn’t it be nice if the NYTimes write-ups on Asheville didn’t consistently rest on the Biltmore and breweries?
Bring on the solar panels. Enable neighborhoods to thrive by incentivizing renewable energy and homesteading; solar panels shrouded in squash vines are the latest exotically-shaped topiary and look sorta beautiful at sunset.
Community resilience and co-creation as an engine. Continue to activate the remarkable collaborative spirit catalyzed by the storm through community-sponsored projects and initiatives. What cool stuff can we build with all of the fallen trees and gnarly stumps resting about town? What neighborhood needs can we continue to recognize and fill despite being back on the grid?
As we’ve now returned to Asheville, we’re very interested in translating some of these notions into reality - reach out if that’s of interest.
And stay tuned for further BTIF correspondence concerning the high altitudes and (sometimes) low air quality of the Himalayas!
Onsen on site, giant egg massage chairs that conform to the contours of your body, freezers full of all you can eat popsicles and ice cream, late night complimentary ramen made to order, and you haven’t even seen the lounge wear (that we ‘accidentally’ lifted by discreetly packing into our suitcase - sorry Dormy!).
And an illustrious feature of BTIF on the visitor center’s blog, which we only just discovered four months later).
The trail itself is a ever-improving work-in-progress relief effort, attempting to stimulate more tourism to this beautiful but relatively under-visited pocket of Japan’s main island. The good/bad news is that efforts haven’t been very successful and the only other traveler we recall was a curmudgeonly woman who happened to live near Alex growing up.
The presence of stamp-collecting on the trail made it 10x as fun/addictive.
Great read on these here - even though they look pretty cool, they wouldn’t be the right match for the banks fo the French Broad
Sadly they don’t dive in late October. Add this to the collection of once-a-year events we narrowly missed (psycho-active honey hunting in Nepal, the grape harvest in Georgia).
As you’re probably picking up on, if you like taking the train you’ll love the MCT walking trail.
One of our absolute favorite things about hiking in Japan is the ubiquitous fully stocked vending machines offering hot and cold beverages
We didn’t lose sleep over it since climbing on all fours would have been borderline impossible while wearing Chester.
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