Hyugami Gorge Across a red bridge to a lakeside in bloom

I eased my red car along the narrow lane of Kehogi Bridge. With both hands on the wheel, I kept my eyes on the far end of the bridge. Afternoon air drifted into the open car, and I felt the sun warming my shoulders through the light fabric of my dress. Once I crossed, I couldn't wait to see spring by the lake.

According to the route guide, National Route 442 runs through the mountains for about 13km from Kurogi to Hyugami Dam. As the road followed the valley and brought me closer to the lake, I was struck by the scale of the cliffs. Hyugami Gorge stretches for about 6km, and there's a legend that the gods, drawn by its beauty, came here. Looking at a view like this, I wanted to hear the story behind its name, too.

After my drive, I stopped to look at the lake, where cherry blossoms on the opposite shore were mirrored softly in the water. A thousand cherry trees are said to bloom around Hyugami Dam in spring. My friend and I compared the trees and their reflections as we talked. “I love how the blossoms are right by the rocks,” I said. I wanted to linger over this view of blossoms—the kind of scene you find only by coming this far into the mountains.

At Hyugami Gorge, some rocks are named after the Seven Lucky Gods, and Kehogi Rock is said to have been struck by a horse's hoof. I love how people have woven stories around the shapes of the rocks. The heart-shaped rock is another highlight by the lake. Talking with my friend about what shapes we could see made me want to spend a little longer looking at rocks I'd first thought were just big.

For lunch, Hyugami Dam Curry at Soma no Sato by the lake caught my eye. The rice represents the dam, while the curry sauce is the lake; the plate includes Heart Rock and cherry blossoms, too. The thought of the scenery I'd just seen appearing in a dish made me curious. I heard they also serve Yame matcha smoothies, so my friend and I started talking about what to try after taking in the view.

Before heading back, I looked up at the cherry blossoms by the lake one more time. I'd kept my eyes on the road as I crossed the bridge, so stopping to admire the flowers was a different kind of pleasure. The red bridge, the cliffs, the lake with its cherry blossoms—I wouldn't want to choose just one. I want to follow the mountain road and come upon each of them in turn.