Misty Mountains Testing Our Patience

Shinhotaka Ropeway had been on my travel list for quite some time, and today my wife and I finally made the trip — all the way up with Japan’s only double-deck gondola.

It struck me as a small marvel of Japanese engineering. In hindsight, it’s something I’ve never even seen back in Switzerland, which says a lot considering how many mountain gondolas I grew up around.

Before arriving at the ropeway station, we parked the car about a 15-minute hike away. Why? Because the closer you get, the higher the parking fee climbs. We’re frugal, and we didn’t mind a little walk. The spot we found was free parking along the Gamada River, where several onsens lined the way — and we promised ourselves to visit at least one later.

We went up with high hopes of seeing the surrounding Hotaka mountain range in its full glory. Autumn in Japan is magical, and we were excited to see the mountain forests painted in gold, yellow, and deep red. But when we reached the top, we found ourselves wrapped in thick mist and fog, unable to see any of the peaks at all.

Still, we refused to give up. We waited, hoping the clouds might part just for a moment. And they did — briefly. We caught only partial glimpses of the Hotaka range and a few seconds of brilliant fall foliage before it disappeared again into the fog.

Even so, the visit was beautiful in its own quiet way. There’s something deeply calming about being surrounded by mountain air, forest, and river energy in the Okuhida Valley.

Back down at the Shinhotaka Ropeway Onsen station, we decided to visit one of the nearby hot springs. The first onsen we walked into was accepting day visitors — and even people with tattoos, like me. That was a big relief.

The air smelled faintly of sulfur, that classic rotten-egg scent hinting at volcanic activity below. But once I sank into the steaming water, that smell was forgotten. The heat, the mist, and the stillness of the moment made everything fade away.

I might have caught a few curious stares because of my tattoos, but when the onsen owner says it’s okay, then it’s okay. And for that hour, life was perfect — nothing but the sound of running water and the soft steam rising into the mountain air.