Strangely enough, it wasn't long afterwards that Mr. Nakazawa (see "Everyone Should Have a Mr. Nakazawa" entry)asked me when I was visiting him in Japan if I had ever heard of the Henro pilgrimage to Shikoku Island's 88 temples. Ever since my walk down the length of Japan in the fall of 1987, Mr. Nakazawa had wanted very much that I return to explore on foot the only major island of the Japanese archipelago that I'd missed in that journey 18 years ago. The Shikoku pilgrimage seemed, to him, to be the perfect manner in which to learn about that sparsely-populated region. Of course I thought so, too. And off we went at once from his headquarters in Osaka on Honshu Island to Shikoku Island. That initial trip was to be a teaser, however, and not a part of any actual pilgrimage. On that first, short sightseeing visit we traveled as we so often do when I'm in Japan to help with the Worldwalker shoes: in the back seat of his chauffered black Buick (his "mafia car").

Through dozens of flawless mountain tunnels and across two of the world's longest, highest, and most beautiful bridges we rode, with an island-dotted sea often to one side. And in a few hours time we reached the even more mountainous Shikoku, where it was obvious from the very first glance that it may well be the best part of Japan yet. A quick lunch and we were back on our way to Osaka--a ride that was made all the more heart-pounding by the fact that the young driver kept threatening to nod off to sleep. I still believe I am alive today only because I feigned several times the need for us to stop, so I could pee--upon which time I would get a hot coffee for the driver from one of the many vending machines that populate every rest stop in Japan.

But that was then, over two years ago. By now I have been back to Shikoku four other times, and so far I have reached--on foot and solo--64 of the temples. And what have I experienced? Well, you might say it's been a lot like what the Buddhist bishop Taisen Miyata wrote in his popular guidebook A Henro Pilgrimage to The 88 Temples of Shikoku Island: "To visit these old esoteric temples and historical vilages surrounded by evergreen trees and verdant mountains is to go back in time to the quiet, ancient ambience of Japan."

I am not a Buddhist by faith (though I believe there is a lot of the Buddhist nature inside me), and so some may ask: Why explore Shikoku in such an arduous and time-consuming manner as circling the entire island, when you you could just simply walk in a straight fashion across it's width? Well, I might just as easily ask: What better way can there be to explore a holy land than in the manner of the monks whose sandled feet created the original trail? Again, as bishop Miyata so wisely observes: "Human beings have always had a fascination with the nature of unknown country and a mystical encounter with the great savior, and there is no other place in Japan where one can hike and walk along the island in such splendid isolation..."

Alas, the very isolation and physically exhaustive terrain of Shikoku have reduced those who would actually hike the Henro pilgrimmage to a tiny number. As I have acutely discovered, I am almost always on my own--alone with but the darkness of deep bamboo forests, the gaze of wild boars, and the eternal roar of wild streams as my companions. Oh there are usually many other pilgrims upon my weary arrival at each temple, but they are the proteges of modern society: they zipped along paved roads in autos or tour buses. I, however, followed as much as possible the original narrow dirt path, with all its interminable ups and downs.

Supposedly a charter bus takes 13 days to cover the full length of the pilgrimmage, while a taxi or car can do it in 7 days. Those on foot need at least 50 to 60 days. Thus I can understand why the modern-day pilgrim in work-crazy Japan needs the faster mode of travel to seek his or her salvation. But, still, such a shame to realize how much of the island's character they shall never know!

Shikoku is blessed with the kinds of temperatures found in southern California, but with a lot more rain. It's mountains are innumerable and every bit as steep as one would expect of former volcanoes. Their tops are oftentimes misted by clouds, while the forests that cover so thickly the slopes are as dimly-lit and eerily quiet as those in a Grimm's fairy tale. Wild pigs and grouse and even elk have bid me a safe journey through those wild lands, but the human is a rare creature indeed in much of the forest that lies between most temples. Thus have I found myself able to do a lot of thinking and contemplating, much to spirits' delight no doubt.

However, when forced to follow the main streets and to enter into the towns to seek the occasional temple that is contained within, the Japan of heavy traffic can rear its noisy face. Thankfully, Shikoku is the smallest and most rural of the four main Japanese islands, and so it is thus reflected in its towns. Mr. Nakazawa has warned me that the island's residents are the most down-to-earth and the most trusting to be found in Japan,and so far in the 40 days I've spent weaving my way through the island's quilt of paddies and peaks and canyons and patches of civilization he has proven to be very astute. Many is the day I've wanted to quit--especially after hours of plodding straight up a mountain against a fierce gravity, only to meet someone at the--finally!--elusive temple whose kindness made me forget that day's struggles. Surely there is a message for the soul in those moments.

There is much else I would love to include in this entry about my journey thus far on Shikoku Island, but for now I will save some stories for individual entries yet to be written. Most likely what I will do is compose an entry for each of the four stages done thus far, and in each entry I will include a colorful anecdote or two. So be watching for those in the days to come. The stories will definitely confirm my oft-stated belief that Japan is one of the world's most fascinating and beautiful nations.

For now, let me simply end with a quote from Jeffrey Hackler, a former Shikoku pilgrim, who wrote in his website guide to the pilgrimage: "Any method of getting from the start to the end of the pilgrimage is fine. Just as we all are born and die, it is the in-between which makes each of our lives different." (www.madala.co.jp/echoes/jhguide)

Steven Newman