On the Nichien Momiji Line Looking Back and Forth Between Tote-yaki and Autumn Leaves at Fujimidai

In late October, I turned onto the Nichien Momiji Line from Shiobara. As I followed the bends uphill, the trees on either side caught the autumn light. I kept my eyes on the road and followed it around the curves before parking at Fujimidai. Once I’d switched off the engine and stepped outside, the breeze stirred the end of my checked scarf. The mountain was quiet in a way I hadn’t noticed from behind the wheel.

I stepped into the space inside the wooden fence and unwrapped the tote-yaki I’d picked out in Shiobara. Inside the fluffy wrap, I could see cream and brown-sugar syrup jelly. I’d been curious about the Kuromitsu Kinako Tote-yaki ever since I first heard its name. I was staring at the filling before taking a bite when my friend laughed, “Already studying it?” I wanted to make sure I started with the best bit.

I took a bite. The wrap was soft, and the kinako flavor lingered. Still holding it in its paper wrapper, I looked past the fence. Autumn leaves stretched from the nearby branches all the way down the mountainside. With the distant mountains in view, I felt like chewing more slowly than before. I savored another bite, glad I’d brought a snack.

The Nichien Momiji Line is a 28 km scenic road linking Kinugawa Onsen and Shiobara Onsen. Some stretches rise above 1,000 m, I hear, and once I got out of the car, I could really feel the chill. The view from Fujimidai is one of the pleasures of the drive, too. “Guess we don’t have to hurry to the next hot spring now,” my friend said. I pulled my coat closer and took in the view again.

Listening to the leaves crunch underfoot, I slowly made my way back to the car. I hear the fillings in Shiobara’s tote-yaki vary from shop to shop. Next time, I want to pick different kinds with my friend and compare them around the hot-spring town. I want to remember it all: the sweetness of kuromitsu and kinako, and that afternoon break looking out at the autumn leaves.