Hikosan Tengu Line (National Route 500) The story of Hikosan beyond the autumn curves

That afternoon on the Hikosan Tengu Line, I put on a slightly warmer jacket and looked ahead to the next bend. Sunlight filtering through the trees played across the car’s interior, while autumn air drifted in through the open roof. I brought the wheel back in line with the road, and the next curve came into view. No need to hurry—one bend at a time.

They say the stretch of National Route 500 known as the Hikosan Tengu Line takes its name from Hikosan’s tengu legends. I’d heard there were 99 bends along the route, but I focused on the road ahead instead of counting. When we stopped for a break, I got out of the car and said to my friend, “We’ve been in the mountains the whole way, haven’t we?” Only then did I feel my shoulders start to relax.

As I started walking, the trees I’d seen from the car seemed much closer. Light shone through the leaves at the tips of the branches, and fallen leaves lay thick underfoot. I paused to listen to them crunch beneath my steps. I want to leave myself plenty of time to enjoy the foliage on foot once I’m out of the car.

Hikosan has long been one of Japan’s three major training grounds for Shugendo, where yamabushi, or mountain ascetics, have practiced. You can still see that history at Hoheiden Hall, part of Hikosan Shrine. When I come to the mountains, I want to explore the spiritual history here as well as enjoy the road. As my friend and I talked about the mountain’s past on our walk, even the deep forest we’d just driven through seemed different.

For a break at the foot of the mountain, Hikosan Cider at Roadside Station Kanyusha Hikosan caught my eye. It’s a local soda made with “Mountain Spirit Water,” drawn from underground. Holding the bottle, I took a sip while talking with my friend about the autumn leaves we’d seen in the mountains. The tiny bubbles popped in my mouth, and I wanted to keep talking about our day in the mountains just a little longer.

I also considered taking home some yuzu kosho. It’s said that the yamabushi of Hikosan first made it as food they could keep for later, and I love how the mountain’s history reaches all the way to the dinner table. Maybe I’ll try adding a little to some hot soup when I get home. I want to bring home the story of those winding roads and the autumn leaves I admired on my walk, too.