Is there anything more natural than sleeping under the stars? It’s like a homecoming to our primitive roots; no walls, no roof, no central heating… nothing but a thin layer of cloth (or not if you’re in to that sort of thing) shielding you from the elements. My favorite part is waking up in the morning, sometimes to a warm sun, or a cool breeze… or as in my case a few weeks ago, to a light mist falling gently from a dark sky.

I squinted up at the tumultuous clouds rolling overhead, and looked over at my friend. Still asleep. I slouched over to the edge of the roof to answer nature’s call, and as I aimed at a patch of bushes three stories below me, I looked out at the incredible view of Japan this little plateau offered. The street noise of a quiet Saturday morning drifted up as I searched the horizon for the mountains surrounding our little valley. Through the mist I could just make out the silhouette of Gankai-zan, my moutnain. Gankai-zan (i.e. Mount Gankai) is the mountain nearest my house, and every morning I look out my window over the freshly planted rice fields to see it crowned by the morning sun. Every time I ride to school it looms in front of me, a green giant shrouded in lore and wonder. During classes at my junior high school, I stare out the window at it and daydream about it’s cool streams, thick bamboo forests, and sacred shrines.

Today, I thought, would be a great day for a hike.

An hour or so later I was on my bike riding along the base of the mountain towards the Shinto shrine that marks the beginning of my favorite hiking trails. There was one in particular I had in mind, that my parents and I had found during their visit last December. We found the beginning of it, following a small stream which struck a single lane dirt road near Rokuden-gu (the Shinto shrine), but we had found it at the end of a long hike and so weren’t prepared to follow just any old mystery trail that crossed our path. This, it turned out, was not just any old trail.

I parked my bike at the trail head and after about five minutes of walking I came upon an incredibly old man, who looked incredibly out of place standing in the middle of a shallow stream in the middle of this mountain. At first it occurred to me that he might be Buddha reincarnate, so I stopped for a moment to consider my karma. With a wave of dread I remembered the text message I sent to my friend at 3AM the night before explaining that “I can’t go watch your son play tennis in the morning because I drank too much, and now I think I’ll sleep on this roof.” But then I remembered carrying two sleeping bags up the ladder and making sure my partner in crime was comfortable under the sheet before going to sleep myself.

In the end I decided that I was moral enough to approach this wizened old man, and as I did so we exchanged good mornings. I asked him if he needed any help. In reply he deftly pulled himself back on the the foot bridge, jumped to his feet, grinned at me, and briskly walked ahead on the trail in front of me. Bewilderment would be a good word to describe the expression on my face. But at the sight of this nimble old man blazing the trail ahead of me, I was filled with inspiration, and I trekked on with a smile. Always following the stream, the trail led me steadily upwards. Before long I climbed out of the bamboo into a more spacious grove of pines. I looked up at the forest canopy and was startled to see a thick layer of smoke clinging to the topmost branches. As far as I knew there were no farms or buildings on this part of the mountain, so I hurried along the trail to try and find the source of the smoke. I hurried up a set of stairs, and as I crested the hill a burning pile of leaves came in to view, along with the unmistakable signs of Fudoson Buddhism. The air became quickly became saturated with the smell of burning incense. I had stumbled upon something very special, and even though I didn’t understand what it was I don’t think I will ever forget walking up those stairs, flanked on the right by a long line of Buddhist statues, ending at a waterfall. The spirituality of it was overwhelming.

As I hiked back down to my bike I decided that though it was short, this easily ranked as one of the best hikes of my life.