THE STORY

Breakfast in Lapland guest house was a pleasure after three days struggling with the Sounkyo breakfast.  Poached egg and bacon, with some lettuce and tomato, plus toast and jam, and a pot of fresh coffee.  It set us off on a splendid day.  Beforehand, we had gone outside into bright sunshine to look across Shikotsu-ko towards Monbetsudake, which we had climbed in mist the previous afternoon.  A more formidable peak, Eniwadake, rose up on the far side of the lake (see separate story).

We were heading for the twin peaks on this side of the lake, and at 8.45 our host drove us there after we said goodbye to the Taiwanese couple who were taking a bike ride then moving on.  The road climbed gently up the typical concave lower slopes of a volcano.  It finished at a car park, still among trees, just below the steep upper slopes.  This was at 650m, just over 2000 ft.  A noticeboard provided information in Japanese and English, warning us away from the central part of the first peak, Tarumaesan, because of poisonous fumes.  A wooden kiosk nearby had a book to enter our names and starting time.  It was at the start of the well-trodden path, running between two rope lines, up steps held by timbers.

We soon emerged from the scrubby woodland into hot sunshine, climbing the steep slope of a volcanic cone.  I felt a touch of excitement – volcanoes had been a favourite topic at school, but I’d never seen a real live one before!  The mountainside was made up of loose lumps of lightweight brown volcanic rock.  Scattered among the stones were leafy green plants with yellow flowers – Catriona and I challenged each other to the “best plant photo of the holiday” competition.

The path headed diagonally up the slope, in a southerly direction, with the lower slopes to the left cloaked with deep green forest, and a low blanket of mist drifting up towards us.  Gradually the sea appeared, and the coastal town of Tomakomai.

We reached the top of the path at about 10.00, arriving at the edge of the crater wth the black inner plug emerging into view.  Fumes arose from it.  I took a panorama of photos to capture the full view, before we headed up to the right towards the highest point on the rim.  A wooden sign at the top indicated it was 1023 m.  Because of the restrictions, we wouldn’t make it to the highest point on the volcanic plug itself.  The view over Shikotsu-ko was breathtaking, with Fuppushidake strikingly green in contrast to the barren summit of Tarumaesan.

A small box of equipment with a solar panel attached was set up close to the peak, and we reckoned this was probably to measure earth tremors.  I picked up a couple of the remarkably light stones from the top as souvenirs, before we set off back the way we had come to walk around the main length of the rim on our way to Enniwadake.

This would take us past the smoking vent, although at some distance behind a protective line of rope.  We reached a tiny shrine beside the track, out of which a couple of women walkers emerged.  We looked inside ourselves, and tossed a couple of coins in to appease the god of the mountain, with a wish for a safe journey.  There was another solar powered seismograph (if that was what they were), and then Catriona spotted some more attractive flowering plants to snatch a photo for our competition, with the smoking vent in the background.

The track dipped down to cross a drainage channel, closer to the vent than before, where the pungent fumes were quite noticeable.  Then we climbed up to an outlying peak, with views just to the right of petrified banks of lava.  This was a steep dusty stretch, but at the top we were rewarded with another superb panoramic view of Enniwadake, the lake, the volvanic plug, and the surrounding countryside.  Away beyond the lake the suburbs of Sapporo were just visible.  The profile of the hills in the distance to the left of Enniwadake seemed to have a strange rhythm to them, as if thrown up by seismic activity.  Catriona decided to extend our photographic competition to the best set of panoramic photos – I was running out of photos and film in the camcorder.

This made a great spot for an early lunch, in the company of quite a few other walkers out enjoying the sunshine and the views.  Our hosts had made up a packed lunch of stuffed rice balls (there’s a Japanese name which I forget).  Two each, one filled with salmon, the other with blueberry jam.  An oriental variation on sandwiches.  As we were finishing eating these, we were plagued by black flies of some sort that were extremely persistent, and were only brushed away with difficulty.

We packed up and moved back down the steep dusty slope, with care.  I’d brought a telescopic walking pole for the first time, and Catriona used it to steady herself on the descent.  We were walking towards the volcanic plug which, from this side, was multicoloured – cream, green and orange against the black - with more smaller vents higher up.  Reaching the bottom of the slope, the track crossed the bed of the crater quite close to the plug.  We were walking across a hard brown crust of solidified lava, with loose stones and bigger rocks on top.  They were probably blasted out from the gaping hole we could see in the side of the plug.  At first sight it was a barren landscape, but even here between the stones, some tiny flowering plants were taking hold.

The track dipped again then forked, with the left branch rising towards a subsidiary peak.  Catriona took a break whilst I stormed up the short climb for a great view back towards the crater.  Coming down the ridge again, I felt a real sense of euphoria to be out here in this exotic place shaped by the raw forces of nature, in glorious weather.  We continued along the right fork, heading down into woodland, marking the dividing line between the active (almost) barren volcano and the older dormant one.  A steeper downward stretch had a rope line to hang onto.  Then we were crossing flatter ground, with young birch colonising the rocky ground.  A clear track to the right would have taken us back to the car park if we had wanted to cut the walk short, but we thought we still had plenty of time. 

However, the forest became dense with more undergrowth and steeper slopes to negotiate.  There were plenty of rocks and roots as steps, but sometimes a slippery earthen slope to edge up.  Three particularly steep bits up rocky slopes had ropes tied to trees for assistance.  The woods were a delight, but with only a couple of viewpoints from rocky outcrops.  There was lots of birdsong, lots of low bamboo scrub, and some steep slopes to one side or the other, but little sense of exposure because of the vegetation.   Progress was slower than we expected, but we were encouraged to meet a couple of other groups of walkers – one advised us we’d need another hour to get to the top. 

Up a final steep earthen slope we emerged as if from the tops of the trees onto the summit ridge, with a slightly exposed track around rocks, down again into trees and back up to the top.  At this height (1102m) in Scotland we would be on a bare mountain top, but here there was luxuriant vegetation at our feet and birch forest stretching away below us.  A young couple were already there enjoying the view, and they were happy to take a photo of the two of us.  This was the main photo used for a full-page feature article in the Dundee Courier newspaper a few weeks later, and on the home page of the prototype “Walking Stories” website.

We could see straight down the other side of the mountain to Shikotsu-ko lake, and across it to the higher peak of Eniwadake.  This was the target for the next day, but from here it looked quite formidable with steep upper slopes torn open by an active volcanic crater.

Surprising, it was only 2.30.  We’d been going for 5 and 1/2 hours, and were getting tired in the heat.  We had quite a way to go back, and set off carefully down again from the open mountain top into the trees.  I stopped several times for photos of the birch trees in the sunlight, which was quite mesmerising, then had to hurry to catch up with Catriona.

Eventually we reached the track we had passed earlier, off to the left towards the car park.  We were back out in the warm sunshine again, crossing the lava field with patches of trees and what looked like rock gardens.  Then across the lower slopes of Mount Tarumaesan, eventually, footweary, back to the car park.  We were just in time to see the young couple driving off, waving to us.  It was 4.20, and we were hot, tired and dehydrated.  7km of roadway lay ahead through the forest to get back to Morappu.  We set off, hoping to hitch a lift, but no cars came down.  After 25 minutes one did, and didn’t stop.  Then another did, and thankfully stopped in response to my frantic hitch-hiking signal.  It was a comfy, clean car, and the main drove us down the long road and round to Morappu beach.  We were very grateful.  We bought some water and a couple of beers and some snacks and enjoyed them on the beach, looking across the tranquil lake towards Eniwadake.

Back at Lapland around 5.30, we discovered our host had gone off to the car park to look for us.  When he got back, we were told off for not signing ourselves back in to the walkers’ book to say we’d come down!  He was still good enough to take us (and a new guest) in to Shikotsu Koya for the onsen.  We returned for another wonderful table-top fry-up, this time of lamb – lots of it – and cabbage, peppers, aubergine, onion and rice.  We enjoyed the meal and discussed plans for the next day’s walk.

Contributed by: Andrew Llanwarne

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