Unazuki Onsen Walk among autumn leaves, then sample a sweet from the hot-spring town

I wanted a 1-night trip: a walk along the gorge beneath the autumn foliage, followed by a soak at an inn in the hot-spring town that evening. So I drove from Ariake in my red convertible. I followed the road along the Kurobe River into town and parked in the car park in front of Unazuki Station, which has space for around 350 cars. When I looked up, there was a mountain right beyond the station building. Yellowing trees covered the slope right down to the buildings. It was a completely different view from the one I was used to seeing from a city car park.

Before checking in, I headed for the Yamabiko Walking Trail. I walked the route of the old trolley line from the station towards the dam. The river felt much closer than it had when I first arrived in the hot-spring town.

When I stopped on Old Yamabiko Bridge, I could see another red bridge ahead. The two bridges spanned the same river, but I was on the pedestrian bridge with the railway bridge alongside it. After taking a photo, I waited by the railing for a little while, hoping to see a train cross the other bridge. I’d read that Old Yamabiko Bridge got its name from the way the sound of trains echoes through the hot-spring town. I held my breath for a moment, listening to see whether I could hear it too.

Beyond Old Yamabiko Bridge, the trail passed through a tunnel. I walked through its cool darkness to an observation deck with a view of Unazuki Dam. I stepped out of the dark into the light, and suddenly the dam and autumn-coloured mountains opened up in front of me. A “Wow!” escaped me.

I’d read that beyond the trail, the path joins a regular road and continues towards Unazuki Lake and Tochi no Yu. Today, I turned back after seeing the dam. On the way back, I kept checking the photo on my phone to see just how bright the tunnel exit had looked.

Back in the hot-spring town, I picked up Omokage, Fukutaya Confectionery’s signature sweet. I went back to the car, straightened the sleeve of my beige coat and opened the packet. A thin red-and-white wafer shell enclosed soft mochi and smooth red bean paste. It seemed a shame to eat it in one bite, so I nibbled at it from one end. Omokage is said to be inspired by the rhododendrons of the Kurobe Gorge. I’d also heard it had received the Prime Minister’s Award at the National Confectionery Exposition. Once I knew that, even the shape of the red-and-white shell started to look like flower petals.

Between bites, I kept looking up towards the mountains. I’d read in a local tourism guide that the area around Unazuki was once a plateau covered in peach trees, known as Momohara. It’s a hot-spring town among autumn-coloured mountains now, but the area was once a whole grove of peach trees. Curious about a landscape I’d never have guessed from the town’s name, I found myself looking all around the slope by the station.

I was choosing photos to send my friend when I decided I wanted a picture of myself enjoying the sweet, too. I wanted to remember this little break as part of the trip, not just the scenery. I held Omokage in my hand and took a quick photo, then got ready to head to the inn. Tonight, I’d give my tired legs a long, warming soak.