One Piece of Chikara Mochi, One More Look at the Autumn Mountains An Afternoon at the Old Usui Pass in Karuizawa, with Layered Mountains and Chikara Mochi

After spending an afternoon in Karuizawa, I headed up to the Old Usui Pass. Past the trees, I stepped out onto the lookout. The ground was dirt and small stones. My steps sounded softer than they had on the town streets, and I no longer felt in a rush to move on. Maybe this is where I should open the box of mochi I brought.

There’s a bench beneath the trees on my left, and beyond it runs a low line of posts linked by chain. Past the nearest ridge, I can see another, then another. I’d read that the Myōgi Range is visible to the east, but before trying to match names to peaks, I just wanted to take in those layers.

I opened the small box and picked out a piece of mochi with a wooden toothpick. I’d meant to eat while looking at the mountains, but first I got caught up choosing a piece. After one bite, I looked up. It was the same view, yet it seemed a little closer now. Maybe that’s what taking a break at a mountain pass feels like.

The afternoon light slanted across the clearing, and the shadows of the stones stretched longer. My eyes kept darting between the far-off mountains and the box in my hands. I was glad I hadn’t packed the afternoon full of plans. By the bench, I took my time finishing the mochi, soaking in the view as the afternoon wore on.

This is the prefectural border between Nagano and Gunma. When I checked the map to see which way I’d be heading home, it struck me again that towns lie on opposite sides of a single pass. Once I put away the box, the trees along the road I’d taken looked clearer to me. I may not remember every mountain’s name, but those overlapping ridgelines will stay with me.