Minou Skyline A Kyoho grape and a sweeping view of the Chikugo Plain

After picking out Kyoho grapes in Tanushimaru in September, I headed for Minou Skyline. The ridge road winds through the forest. My friend and I had agreed to stop at a viewpoint later. Just thinking about the little cup I’d packed for our break before we set off uphill made me look forward to stopping all the more.

From the grassy clearing on the Mt. Takatori side, the Chikugo Plain opened up before me. I could make out fields, clusters of houses, and the river winding through them. The breeze caught the sleeves of my white blouse, and I turned just a little to take it all in. I’d been looking up at these mountains from near town; now I was looking down on the town. That shift in perspective is fascinating.

I picked a Kyoho grape out of the cup and could even see its faint, powdery bloom. Before I even tasted it, I could imagine how dense and substantial the flesh would be. I peeled it and tasted it; the juice spread across my tongue. I told my friend, “I’m glad we bought these before coming up the mountain,” then took my time choosing the next one.

Tanushimaru is known as the birthplace of Kyoho grape cultivation. I’m told the tradition of growing grapes here eventually led to today’s tourist orchards. Eating fruit grown at the foot of the mountains while looking out over the plain from above—it makes me happy to think that this one grape is helping me remember Tanushimaru, too.

This viewpoint is beside the hang-gliding launch site on Mt. Takatori. Today my friend and I stood side by side a little way off on the grass, looking out over the plain. At 802m, Mt. Takatori is the highest peak in the Minou Range. We’re not at the summit, but with the view opening up around us, I could feel how far we’d climbed along the ridge.

On the way back, I started thinking I’d like to make time at Tanushimaru’s orchards part of my next trip, too. I hear you can enjoy Nakano Kajitsuen’s Kyoho grapes from around July to September, so maybe next time I’ll start with grape picking. As I cleared away the cup and looked out across the plain once more, it felt as if the fruit I’d chosen at the foot of the mountain and this view had become part of the same day’s memory.