It was supposed to be so easy.

We would wake up early, get everyone in the car, drive to Ishizuchi-san, eat some udon, climb the mountain, climb back down, get everyone in the car and be back in Sakawa in time for supper. But Sally forgot to put gas in her car, and so she had to drive back eighteen kilometers to fill up. The rest of us ate our udon – handmade and garnished with freshly picked mountain mushrooms – and waited the hour it took.

As we were leaving, however, the udon restaurant owner warned us we better hurry if we wanted to be off the mountain by six, because, we assumed, that was when the sun would set. It was only one, though, and the guidebook said four hours to do the hike. We assumed we would have lots of time.

The drive up the mountain was harrowing and beautiful. We parked, zipped past the Shinto shrine and started the hike through pristine mixed forest. The views were spectacular. Clouds formed in the valley and blew up the side of the mountain to join their rain cloud cousins in the sky, mountain valleys filled the horizon and in the far distance the Inland Sea shimmered blue and infinite.

The top of the mountain was freezing cold, extremely windy and totally enveloped in cloud. Visibility was about twenty meters, which gave the impression that we were all alone on a platform on top of the world. A Shinto priest showed us his pictures of sunrise and sunset, the kind you see in National Geographic and dreams. We shared some chocolate and nuts and headed back down.

None of us had anticipated how challenging the hike would be. We were exhausted and the return walk took much longer than expected, especially since the final twenty minutes were in near total darkness. It was quarter to seven when we finished, and so we quickly hopped in our cars to drive back home. Except the gate was locked (when you assume, you make an ass out of you and me – isn’t that how it goes?).

After deliberations, we decided ask for help. A wonderful woman offered to cook us supper, but we convinced her that was unnecessary, so she gave us a bag of chocolate instead. She also sent her daughter to lead us the hour-long drive through the cloud wrapped back road, toward the main highway. The road was littered with debris from the typhoon and visibility was near zero. I’d been on similar roads before, and didn’t mind too much, but the other driver has only been in Japan and that was her first real driving experience. She cried when it was over.

We made it home safe and sound. Tired as a bag of bones and hungry as bears, but otherwise fine. Thanks to the kindness of strangers and some good luck, no one got hurt. Next time, we need to listen to the local warnings. That, and remember gas. Then it really will be easy.