Ash’s Highlights: Hiking the Worshiper’s Path of Kurama
I know what you’re thinking… it’s about time that I gave Scott a break and had a go at penning a blog post of my own! So here I go taking the opportunity to highlight a particular day amongst the pine forests of Kyoto that has stuck with me since leaving Japan.
The fog wrapped itself around the towering cedar trees, moving through the forest like something out of a dream. Stone steps stretched endlessly ahead, slick with morning dew, leading us deeper into the misty mountains. This was the Worshiper’s Path, an ancient pilgrimage route between Kibune and Kurama, and for one misty March morning, it felt like we had stepped into another world.
A JOURNEY INTO THE MIST
Our day began with a rickety yet charming train ride into the hills north of Kyoto. Even in late winter, the landscape was awash with green, with forests of cedar and pine standing tall against the shifting mist. As we climbed higher, the last of the city faded away, replaced by dense forests and the kind of quiet that only exists in places where time seems to slow down.
Situated in the steep valley between Mount Kurama and Kibuneyama, the small village of Kibune acts as the western entrance to the worshipers trail. We joined the steady hum of fellow hikers as we left the station and headed out into the cool, damp air eager to venture onto the trail.
Passing a small hut before setting off, we were handed traditional wooden walking sticks (worshipers’ canes) which only added to the experience. With the promise of hidden shrines, ancient trees, and maybe even a bear sighting (according to the warning signs), we began our climb.
A Chorus of Konnichiwas
Not long into the hike, we found ourselves caught in the friendliest kind of traffic jam. Hikers coming down from Kurama, at least 50 of them, all elderly and all beaming. What followed was a never-ending exchange of “Konnichiwa!” and “Hello!” as we passed each other on the narrow steps. Their enthusiasm was infectious, and by the time the last one had passed, Scott and I couldn’t stop smiling. It was one of those unexpected travel moments that sticks with you - the warmth of human connection in the middle of a misty, ancient forest.
Steps, Shrines, and Towering Cedars
The trail was steep, with countless stone steps that quickly had us working up a sweat. March may still be part of Kyoto’s winter, but the humidity in the forest was no joke! Every turn revealed something new; a moss-covered statue, tangled cedar roots gripping the mountainside, or a hazy view of the valley below. The fog softened the world around us, turning the forest into something out of a myth. The constant presence of seemingly half-forgotten stone lamps and shrines reclaimed by the forest only heightened the sense we were exploring some lost corner of the world.
Throughout it all, our attention never drifted far from the towering cedar trees. Some of the largest I had ever seen, Scott and I both marvelled at how they seemed to just disappear into the clouds above. Having hiked amongst the red woods of California and through the misty pines of British Columbia, I couldn’t help but draw comparisons. Even though Kyoto was just a short ride away, it felt incredible to feel so far removed from the hustle and bustle.
A Well-Deserved Soak
By the time we arrived in Kurama, our legs were aching, and the cold sweat we had developed required a good rinse. The sprawling temple complex at the end of the trail was impressive, but our minds were on one thing: Kurama Onsen.
Slipping into the steaming outdoor bath, muscles instantly relaxed, I let my mind wander as my eyes gazed out across wooded valley beneath. Mist curled around the water, blending seamlessly with the fog still clinging to the forest. There was no rush, no itinerary, just the simple joy of soaking in the moment.
Reflections on a Perfect Day
Later, as we boarded the train back to Kyoto, the mountains slowly disappearing behind us, I thought about how this day summed up so much of what we love about travel. It wasn’t just about the landscapes or the history - it was about the unexpected connections, the quiet beauty of a forest in the mist, and the feeling of being completely present in a place.
From the endless chorus of “Konnichiwas” to the final soak in the onsen, the Worshiper’s Path was more than just a hike - it was a reminder of why we set off on this journey in the first place.
