Akiyoshidai Driving through autumn grasslands at sunset

As I turned onto the Akiyoshidai Karst Road, grassland hills spread out on both sides. It was late afternoon in early November, and I drove slowly in my red open-top car. With my eyes on the road and my hands on the wheel, I could see the hills continuing beyond each curve. Even the sky felt more open here than on the mountain roads I usually take.

Limestone poked up here and there across the grassland. With every stretch of road, more rocky hills came into view, and I caught my breath at their sheer scale. I wanted to remember every bit of it. But for now, I needed to keep my eyes on the next bend. I wanted to savor the road as it unfolded ahead.

The evening sun lit up the grass, right down to the pampas grass plumes. In autumn, I’m usually looking up at leaves in the trees, but here the grassland itself was changing color. Following the road and taking in the grassland’s vast sweep, I felt the tension ease from my shoulders as I held the wheel. Today, I wanted to take it slow instead of rushing straight through.

Before I knew it, I’d said out loud, “I really do like roads like this.” I hadn’t meant anyone else to hear it, so I laughed a little at my own voice. My friend would probably tease me: “Another road you love, huh?” She’d be right. I wasn’t even done driving it, and I already wanted to come back.

As I steered through a gentle curve, the view ahead shifted little by little. A big hill came into view, with the road crossing in front of it. Maybe what I loved was not just looking out over the grassland, but driving through it in my own car. I kept my eyes on the road and savored the drive to the next bend.

Even after I’d finished driving across the plateau, I couldn’t get that hill out of my mind. Next time, I’d like to park the car and take a walk through the grassland. I’ll tell my friend that Akiyoshidai was a place I came to love as I drove through it. I want to tell her the words that slipped out in the evening sun, too.