Surviving Mt. Bunagatake: Shiga’s Most Challenging Hike
A two-day trip on the western coast of Lake Biwa
Almost there…
After failing to climb Mt. Ibuki at the end of July, I sought to redeem myself on Bunagatake, the highest peak in the Hira Mountain Range of western Shiga. My original itinerary was ambitious, bordering on masochistic: hiking 12 kilometers on Bunagatake on day one, and completing an 11-kilometer traverse of Mt. Horai and Mt. Uchimi on day two.
This was a dramatic step up from our comparably simple little day hikes in Nara. The intent of this multi-day hiking trip (minus the camping because I’m not that rugged) was to train for a possible venture of the Kumano Kodo this fall.
So how did it go? What ended up happening? Well, let’s just say the fact that we didn’t have to call for a helicopter rescue was nothing short of a miracle, but I’m getting ahead of myself.
Our endpoint.
Bound for Bomura
Planning for this trip was intimidating, simply because there are so many mountains and trails to choose from in the Hira Mountains. After consulting dozens of reviews on AllTrails and Google Maps, I decided on Bunagatake because of the ridgeline views it promised, and Mt. Horai because of its proximity to other attractions in Shiga.
On day one, we woke up at five a.m., giving us time to strategically fit our belongings into hydration vests and fanny packs before starting the three-hour journey north to the Bomura bus stop, where our hike began. Here is where Taka, my husband, got to see how smoothly public transportation can go when you actually follow Google Maps: we arrived at the Gotenyama course at 9:28 on the dot, ready to begin what we predicted would be a five-hour hike.
Perhaps our luck wouldn’t have run out if we had stopped to pray at the trailhead’s shrine first. Perhaps the fact that we eventually made it to our hotel with nothing but scraped-up hands, muddied asses, one alleged bee sting, and severe dehydration is the luck we managed to eke out—who’s to say?
Remember that pleasant ridgeline hike I described earlier? There’s a reason why that’s the only section I saw photos of online. The steep ascent involved climbing over massive felled trees and roots connected with single-footstep-wide ledges on an incline. Our feet were bent back at an obtuse angle with no breaks.
By choosing to bypass the Sawanobori waterfall route, in which helmets are a requirement, we’d ended up on a path where poles should be a requirement. I typically try to choose places where I can get away with not having them, but in cases like these, where the terrain is not accurately depicted in my sources (in part because you kinda need all four limbs the entire time), I regret being so stingy.
Besides the difficult terrain, there’s minimal signage, so Taka and I made good use of YAMAP and followed other people until we made it to the long-awaited ridgeline portion of the hike. Here is where Bunagatake once again tries to best its climbers with two false summits before you hit the real one, but at this point, I felt unstoppable—even if a Shiba Inu had beaten me to the summit.
Sadly, the clouds blocked the views of Lake Biwa entirely, giving a rather moody disposition to the achievement. Dragonflies and butterflies swarmed around us, with one even perching on my hydration vest. Seven hours had passed since breakfast, so we shoveled our onigiri into our mouths with dirt-covered hands and not a care in the world.
Then it was time to make our way back down to the hotel in Omi-Maiko by way of Hira Station. There was no signal at the top to confirm our route, so the two of us verified things with an ojisan at the summit, heeding his understated warning that it was “a little bit tricky.”
Where’s the pink tape when you need it?
Here’s the thing I’ve learned about mountains: what goes up must come back down, and the descent can be a special level of hell when you no longer have gravity on your side. Such was the case for us for the next five kilometers, which took us four hours to complete. As if shoving our way through bush in dire need of whacking in the first section—the portion of the hike during which Taka thinks he got stung by a bee—wasn’t hard enough, we were constantly backtracking to navigate around impassable caverns.
The wooded section that came next resembled a desperate game of capture the flag, with Taka and me calling out each faded pink ribbon we saw marking the path. If this had been the rest of the hike, things would have been okay, but what becomes easy becomes hard again.
Then came the Kanakuso Course (written in the kanji for ‘gold’ and ‘shit’), which had collapsed due to a landslide, and some time ago, from the weather-worn look of the sign. “Scree” is not a wholly accurate descriptor of the terrain, because it was a mix of smaller rocks and head-sized rocks forming deep ravines in the earth. No step was completely stable, and at any time, there was the risk that a rock further up the hill could fall and kill us upon impact. But there was simply no other way, so we carefully reverse crab-walked down step by step, all while having to regularly backtrack when we spotted a pink flag on the opposite side of the trail.
Despite the landslide, it appears that this trail is still frequented by hikers, albeit ones with proper poles and hiking equipment. Such terrain is still dangerous with the right equipment, to be clear, but navigating it without the added stability of poles was back-breaking work.
Adding to the difficulty were the countless river crossings. While primitive log bridges helped in some spots, the majority of the crossings left us no choice but to submerge our shoes or risk falling on the slippery rocks, both of which ended up happening because our legs were getting more unstable with each passing hour. Not to mention that we’d run out of water and hadn’t peed since 9:30 in the morning, and it was now mid-afternoon. The two of us were also fighting migraines that made our heads throb, so it was, altogether, not a good time.
The woods were miserable, dark, and deep, and if I had had any liquid left in my body, I would’ve started bawling right there in that trailhead parking lot. It was nearing four p.m., and my feet were touching flat, stable ground for the first time in nearly seven hours.
Three more kilometers lay between us and our hotel up in Omi-Maiko. Like a scene straight out of Stephen King’s The Long Walk, Taka and I hobbled to 7-11 to attend to our needs. First, using the bathroom, then stocking up for dinner and breakfast, piling tamago sando, edamame, shrimp doria gratin, French toast, bananas, chips, and Coke in front of the dismayed clerk.
I refuse to pay for bottled water on principle, though in this particular moment that would’ve been a smarter move. Instead, I chugged the Coke, too exhausted to feel any shame as my stench wafted over a group of college boys upon exit.
We zombies were guided by the music pumping from Omi-Maiko Nakahama Beach right in front of our accommodation, Hotel Biwa Lake Otsuka. More college-age kids were zooming by on jet-skis or snapping bikini pics. The cool water was calling my name, but it would have to wait.
Thus began the second phase of our recovery. After showering, I did what I could with the hand soap and muddy, drenched clothes in the bathroom sink. The Faculty-level amounts of water, two EVE quick DX pills, and a sunset smorgasbord later, and I was feeling as good as I could after the day I had. Ambling through my stretching routine, Taka and I took turns in the in-room massage chair before watching Modern Family and settling in for the night.
A change of plans
Sporting matching banged-up left knees, Mt. Horai was unilaterally axed from the second day’s agenda. After eating breakfast, we popped down to the beach in front of our hotel before all the kids were up. The buoy perimeter didn’t extend very far, so it was really just a wading situation.
Nevertheless, Taka and I sat for a while, picking out rocks, spotting birds, and listening to the waves gently crashing into the shore. Soon enough, we returned to our room to watch more Modern Family before getting ready for checkout.
Hotel Biwa Lake Otsuka offers bike rentals (600 yen for two hours), so we borrowed two to head down to R Cafe, the Hawaiian restaurant I’d originally planned to visit for dinner the previous night. It was my first time riding a bike since studying abroad in Hikone six years ago, and it felt great to breeze down the dirt path rather than sweating through a twenty-minute walk.
R Cafe has an extensive cocktail (and dog!) menu, plus a few poke bowl options for seafood lovers like me. Since the tuna poke bowl was unavailable, I opted for the garlic shrimp and pinky flamingo drink with guava juice, while Taka went for the Original burger. The cold broccoli soup and potato salad were refreshing, while the drink that I was so excited for was gone in two sips. Still, I loved the tropical decor, with surfboards hanging on the walls and a mermaid-themed bathroom. Adding to the good vibes were the dogs of all sizes patronizing the restaurant alongside their owners—a rare sight in Japan.
After dropping our bikes off at the hotel, we headed down to Katata, the small town we’d passed through the day prior when taking the bus to Bomura. Before we left Shiga behind once more, I wanted to see at least one of the famous shrines, and the choice was between Shirahige and Mangetsu-ji Ukimido. Shirahige was too far north and harder to access via public transportation, while Mangetsu-ji Ukimido was our way back home, making the choice easy.
Takashima, where Shirahige is located, is also home to a lane of Meta Sequoia trees and other cool-looking attractions, so I definitely want to visit there at some point.
Katata, meanwhile, doesn’t have much going on besides Ukimido and the lesser-known Izu Shrine just two blocks away.
Apparently the subject of many poems and one of the “Eight Sights of Omi,” Mangetsu-ji Ukimido is beautiful, but quaint. A bridal party was taking photos in front, too, which limited my photo-taking angles. So my honest thoughts? I’m glad we went, though I can’t imagine dealing with any more than a few people since it’s essentially a small building built right on the water with no other grounds to explore.
Izu Shrine, in comparison, was empty and fun to photograph, even if my husband was getting anxious to get back home. I had a job interview in Kyoto the next day, so I was intent on collecting all the goodwill that I could. Eventually, we did make our way back to Katata Station, where a little girl called us “stinky” as she sat down right in front of us with her mother. There’s only so much Old Spice and Biore cooling wipes can do, sorry!
Is Shiga worth it?
Shiga reminds me a lot of Michigan in that a lot of the tourism is centered on Lake Biwa, and on the weather being clear enough to see across said lake. I suppose that makes sense, given that it takes up a sixth of the prefecture, according to my extensive Wikipedia research.
I hope through my past and future travels there (and the blog posts I write about them), I can show that there is more to Shiga than just Lake Biwa. That it’s an exciting place to hike, to enjoy nature, and to eat. Given that I did get the job, I will have less time but a bigger budget, so you can expect to see me back in Shiga and other exciting places in the coming months.
Overall, I feel accomplished that I managed this brutal course. I resent the Japanese tendency to downplay things, which is how we ended up in this predicament, but you can’t know everything about a trail until you hike it yourself. At least now I have an interesting story to tell, and a funny memory for when my body is too old and broken down to do hikes like this anymore.
And if you are thinking of climbing Bunagatake, Horaisan, or some other peak, I hope this blog will help you be more prepared for your subsequent adventures than I was.
Until next time, ooki ni.
A cleanse on your way out, kind reader?
Access:
From Nara Station, take the Nara Line Rapid to Kyoto Station. Transfer to the Tokaido-Sanyo Special Rapid towards Tsuruga, getting off at Katata Station. Walk straight out of the ticket gate before turning right. There are bathrooms outside the train station, and the bus towards Bomura will be parked right in front of them. This is not the quickest route, but it has the fewest transfers and will take just over two and a half hours.
From Osaka Station, take the Tokaido-Sanyo Special Rapid towards Tsuruga, getting off at Katata Station before boarding the bus to Bomura. This will take you about an hour and 45 minutes in total.
After arriving in Bomura, cross the street, heading toward the tori gate before making a left to the red bridge. This is the starting point for the Gotenyama course, though you can take the Sawanobori (奥ノ深谷) route up the waterfall if you have the proper equipment and experience.
For the descent, you can take the landslide-collapsed Kanaguso Pass (金糞峠) to Inn Taniguchi (イン谷口) down towards Hira/Omi-Maiko Station or go straight past the summit to the Yatsubuchi/Yobai Falls course—just like Sawanobori, this will require a helmet and proper climbing gear. For the safest route, head back to Bomura via the Gotenyama course.
Buses to and from Bomura appear to be extremely infrequent, so I recommend going on the weekend if you do not have a car. There are a number of campgrounds in the area that you can stay at, too.
As for Ukimido, I recommend walking or catching a taxi from Katata Station. There is a bus, but it only takes you one stop closer, so it won’t save you much time. Remember to stop by Izu Shrine on the way.
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