Generally speaking, I'm not a fan of the "heta-uma" (intentionally "bad" yet good) art style, but the great master Hisashi Eguchi is the exception.
I was just recently reading his masterpiece, "Yajikita in DEEP." It’s a story about a couple traveling toward Ise—a place where you can find happiness if you reach it—and the tale is told with a laid-back touch, depicting a journey that drifts between light and shadow, life and death, as they are always getting caught up in events that leave you wondering if they're reality or illusion.
This ride isn't on the Tokaido, but rather the Kamakura Kaido (Upper Path) connecting Shinshu and Kamakura. The plot of going to see a rain-making ritual to summon a dragon god, held every four years (whenever there's a drought) at a suburban pond, felt extremely magical and very much like something out of "Yajikita."
That ritual, the "Suneori Amagoi" (Suneori Rain Prayer) held in the Suneori district of Tsurugashima City, Saitama, seems to have been practiced since the Edo period, so for the people traveling the road back then, it must have been a mysterious sight. And honestly, seeing a giant dragon over 30 meters long suddenly appear in a modern suburban residential area of Saitama was quite fabulous as well.
Could you please lower the temperature a bit?
Adding fuel to these scenes and events that felt like old Japanese folktales was the clear sky and the temperature, which climbed to 38.1°C (in Hatoyama Town), along with the scorching sun. No matter how much I hydrated, the heat left me feeling dizzy, and the scenery in front of me started to look hazy.
Around Arashiyama Valley, the river water levels were low, and the water was so stagnant that I hesitated to even splash around in it. Even at the festival venue, where unsettling conversations like "I'm going to die, is this okay?" and "You can't get through this without pushing yourself!" were flying about, someone actually carrying a portable shrine collapsed and had to be taken away by ambulance. Perhaps rain prayers, once necessary for agriculture, are also a necessary prayer in the modern era of global warming to cope with the heat. After the dragon ascended, some clouds appeared and shielded us from the sun, making things a bit more comfortable—I truly felt the protection of the Dragon God.
The person who planned the ride route was our familiar #ArakawaOutback, Kako-kun (@aosmi). This ride was also a fantastic route that plunged into Arakawa-style gravel right after we departed, and highlight shortcut after shortcut just kept connecting—I kept wondering, "How do you know such good roads??"
When asked how he plans a route, Kako-kun replied, "I don't think in lines, but in areas." It's like he's not looking for a path to a destination, but rather networking the good roads that exist in that area. Thinking about it that way, it wasn't a mistake that I described the experience of the last ride with the jumbo koi streamers (which was also quite Yajikita-esque...) as "Kegon-like"; his route-making and the topography of the Arakawa basin repeat, reflect, and reverse, networking together like Indra's Net.
The finish line is Ogawa Town
After checking out the festival, we kept riding, with our final goal being Mugi Zakkoku Kobo (@zakkokubeer) in Ogawa Town. It was ten years ago that I first visited them, having heard rumors that there was a shop making delicious beer in the middle of nowhere in Saitama (no offense), to ask them to exhibit at Bikelore.
Before they moved to their current brewery and taproom, the shop was full, and I was quite struck by the fact that two couples had even moved there just for this beer, and by how delicious the Zakkoku (mixed grain) Weizen I drank there was. This time too, I forced Mr. Suzuki to let us stay a little longer.
Ogawa Town, where organic farming is thriving, has seen an increase in delicious restaurants and is now said to be at the top of the list of towns people want to move to. With great shops lined up right in front of the station, it's also a perfect base town for rides and hikes toward the Chichibu region.
Exhausted by the heat, tossed about by the route, and left even more dazed by strange sights and delicious beer, it was a ride like a summer mirage. I really loved that feeling of having been bewitched, leaving me wondering if it was reality or a fantasy.
There are still plenty of crazy festivals in Saitama. We'll be holding another one sometime, so please join us.
The participants this time also had their own styles.
The bicycles were also diverse, ranging from full carbon to Surly, Bike Friday, and handmade bikes. The details are quite good too, so please expand them and take a close look.
