Standing beneath the towering, vibrantly red Zuishin Gate, we took cover from the downpour. My soaked white robe was now transparent, and we’d only walked .3-mile. After a few moments, we chanted a single phrase to unify ourselves with nature—and its tumultuous mood: Uketamo.
“Submit to the forces of nature to reach a broader state of mind and open your heart, for full insight on Mount Haguro,” shared Master Kazuhiro Hayasaka (as translated by Sara Millot), a local Yamabushi mountain monk and our guide for today’s pilgrimage. “Whether it is a sunny or rainy day, Yamabushi accept what nature gives us,” he added.
At least we weren’t hiking through a lightning storm.
After touching down in Tokyo two days prior, we’d traveled by train several hundred miles north to the Yamagata Prefecture for today’s guided ascent. A designated National Heritage site, Mount Haguro is one of three sacred mountains known as the Dewa Sanzan, the oldest locations of mountain worship in Japan. This beginner-friendly day trek follows one of the country's oldest pilgrimage routes, a densely forested path with 2,446 stone steps. The land’s stewards, Yamabushi, practice Shugendō, a tradition that blends Shintoism, Buddhism, and Taoism with mountain worship. As a lifelong Coloradan and high-altitude dweller, one of my favorite pastimes is hiking through mountains. While I’m not a devotee of Shugendō, Hayasaka’s call to practice mental adaptability in nature resonated with me.
A horn-like bellow broke the rain’s pitter-patter on the emerald canopy of maples, alders, and oaks. One of the Yamabushi guides, who wear haragai shells around their necks, blew the conch, signaling our ceremonious start. We began a single-file descent through the corridor of gigantic old-growth cedars. Dozens of narrow, 6-foot wooden staffs tapped the stone steps, as we walked down into the basin of judgement, otherwise known as Jigokudani: Hell’s Valley. Given the unpredictability and risks of wilderness, I could understand the name.
At the bottom of the steps, we began to see massha shrines on plinths lining the fern-decorated path: Between here and the 1,350-foot summit, we’d pass nearly 110. Moments later, Shinkyo Bridge came into view above the fast-flowing Haraigawa River. As I approached the overpass, Suga Falls appeared, filling my ears with thunder. I wondered how much the cascade had swelled with the heavy rain. So far, the route felt solitary in mid-September. Historically, several million Japanese sought these hillsides annually, before the Meiji Restoration that exiled Buddhism in the 1860s. Today, Japan’s two widespread religions, Shintoism and Buddhism, are often practiced simultaneously—and this pilgrimage is still pursued by thousands year over year.
But for our Yamabushi guides, this place is home, spiritually and historically. As Japanese mountain monks, they seek spiritual rebirth here through asceticism and immersion in nature. While the community is adaptive and resilient, its not exempt from modern societal pressures. At the movement’s peak less than two centuries ago, 300 pilgrim lodges thrived. That number has dwindled to 30, following a decline in visiting pilgrims. Over the past five years, Yamabushi leaders have created experiential programs for travelers, giving people like me a window into their rituals, which simultaneously helps preserve and support their way of life.
The trio of Dewa Sanzan mountains each represent a stage of life, and Haguro symbolizes the present. My spiritual task for the day, shared by Hayasaka, was to reflect on my personal wishes for this current life. With very little meditation practice, my mind went everywhere except that. I hopped between deep puddles at the base of Suga Falls—and one misjudgment led to a fully submerged foot. Now everything I wore was truly sopping wet. It wasn’t cold out, and I wasn’t concerned about hypothermia, but I wondered how the rest of the trek would go in such stormy conditions.
My thoughts bounced around the morning we’d had—like eating our Shojin Ryori breakfast, while rain poured off the gabled copper roof of the 300-year-old Daishinbo Pilgrim Lodge, where we’d slept. Those foraged mountain vegetables were tasty. I reflected on the morning ritual: Sanskrit is so challenging to read and chant. I remembered getting robed up: I hope I didn’t hold up the group as the last person to arrive in the women’s changing room.
Our female guide had wrapped us in the traditional head-to-toe garb of the Yamabushi mountain priests: a white robe, woven cord necklace, and headdress. The cap’s two twisted flaps hung at my temples, resembling mouse ears—which were currently soggy and flopping over. The strands represent umbilical cords that connect us to this landscape: an allegorical womb. Fortunate for my soft feet, I was allowed to wear hiking shoes rather than the split-toe woven sandals. An ornate shime necklace—which is short for Japanese Shimenawa ropes that mark sacred spaces—made of paper is worn backwards to ward off evil spirits. The cords were now dissolving from moisture. As a hiker, I typically wear synthetic layers while recreating, so this intricate cotton outfit was truly one-of-a-kind.
Suddenly, our group of pilgrims fell silent. The shuffling of feet and tapping of wood canes became quiet. I looked over the bright umbrellas, held by a few better planners than I, and stood in awe. Above us towered one of the highest, widest-reaching trees I’d ever laid eyes on: the oldest one on Mount Haguro, a 1,000-year-old growth known as Grandpa Cedar. I stared at its multi-colored bark and tried to comprehend its size and age. After a moment, my gaze fell to the right of the tree, through a window in the forest. Another masterpiece was in view: a millennium-old five-storied Pagoda. The aesthetic was unliked any I’d seen. Each story was topped with a sweeping roof, with an upward curve at the corners. Albeit beautiful architecture, and spiritually meant to shield negative energies, the pagoda is also structurally sound, creating stability against earthquakes and rainfall. Dwarfed by the eternal Cedar, the Pagoda was yet another representation of Japanese resilience. Perhaps all I needed, after all, was to stop thinking about my present wishes and simply be with my surroundings.
By the time we reached Mount Haguro's summit, a 2-hour and 2-mile hike with 900 feet of climbing, I was ready for another delicious Shojin Ryori meal at the Saikan Pilgrim Lodge. (Call me a green thumb, but it was among my favorite meals of the trip.) Afterward, we walked past Sanjingosaiden Shrine, the primary temple of the Dewa Sanzan, which is a dedication to Mount Haguro, Mount Gassan, and Mount Yudono. The Shinto-Buddhist shrine was reconstructed in 1818—with no less than the help of 90,554 carpenters and craftsmen, a mind-boggling feat. As I gazed inside the extravagant main hall, I thought about the deep lineage of the Yamabushi and Japan’s broader northeast region. In contrast, my home state is a vast cultural mosaic of immigrants, indigenous tribes, and Hispanic cultures, and it’s fairly uncommon to connect with the land’s oldest-known stewards. To witness the Tōhoku Region’s living heritage and cohesive pride, while experiencing nature, was a unique, enriching experience.
As visitors for AdventureWEEK 2025 Tōhoku, we were welcomed into centuries-old traditions that persist, despite conventional challenges, in the landscape and daily rhythms of the people. While exploring the natural world by foot, our adventures were often interwoven with ancient practices from canyoning with a waterfall ritual on Mount Yudono with Yamabushi monks to foraging through Mongolian oaks of the Moriyoshi Mountains with Matagi tribal guides. Following our immersive week, what surfaces most for me is the universal, deep reverence that our Japanese hosts carried for their land and heritage. In Tōhoku, history isn’t something that’s recited: It’s deep rooted and remains alive today.
Each of Tōhoku’s six prefectures is full of ancient and geologic history woven into outdoor adventure:
- Fukushima: Volcano Trail out-and-back hike to Mt. Issaikyo summit in Bandai-Asahi National Park, tohoku-local-secret-tours.jp/tourinfo
- Yamagata: Mount Haguro day hike and Mount Yudono canyoning and waterfall ritual with Yamabushi guides; tsuruokacity.com, www.yamabushido.jp/, https://en.shoko-travel.jp/tsumugitabi
- Akita: Foraging and bear hot pot lunch with Matagi tribal guides; northernjapanhorizons.com, www.michinori.co.jp/mtj/en/index.html, www.ntainbound.com/
- Aomori and Miyagi: Michinoku Coastal Trail; northernjapanhorizons.com, www.tohoku-local-secret-tours.jp/tourinfo
- Iwate: Jodogahama Sea Kayaking in Sanriku Fukkō National Park; northernjapanhorizons.com, https://www.ntainbound.com/
Morgan Tilton is a travel writer and GearJunkie Senior Editor. Read more of her travel and gear reviews from Tōhoku including “Built for Transpacific Flights and Japan’s Bullet Trains: Patagonia Black Hole Wheeled Duffel 40L Review” and “Lumbar Support for Day Hikes, Dialed for Transpacific Flights: Osprey Fairview 40 Travel Pack Review.”