Entering The Mountains Alone, Heading Out To Sea Alone

I , Rikurtsu-Kone-Taro, expressed it grandiosely as “Entering The Mountains Alone, Heading Out To Sea Alone,” but really it’s just an old man with no friends spending an entire day passionately engaging in unproductive hobbies…

Entering the mountains alone.

In the early dawn, I head west on the highway aiming for the usual winding roads.

On the winding roads, I just keep navigating the approaching corners.

I dance with the GR Yaris to the groove of the winding roads.

Occasionally, I spot deer or monkeys.

The only other people I encounter are the drivers in the oncoming lane.

I feel the change of seasons, and sometimes lose grip for a moment on gravel or fallen leaves on the road, causing a brief scare.

I usually keep the windows closed, but I can tell the air around is clear.

Ah, breathing in the clear air while watching the beautiful seasons in the mountains. How blissful this is.

On the winding roads, there is a chance of falling into a ravine or crashing into a rock wall.

But I always go out to the winding roads with the intention of returning home safely.

And by the time the sun has descended a bit from its zenith, I head out to sea alone.

I’ve now become quite skilled at the way of playing on boats, which is different from cars. I’ve also gotten used to the various small tasks and arrangements involved in handling small boats, unlike cars. (For details, see here, here, and here)

I let the autopilot maintain the course while watching ahead from the cabin to avoid collisions with other boats or floating objects. (Click here for details)

At sea, everything I can sense with my five senses feels different from on land. Even the passage of time feels different. The taste of coffee on the boat is different.

When I head out to sea, there is no one else within a few hundred meters.

As I ride the boat that automatically continues straight ahead, I gradually feel my mind getting settled, like a pleasant certainty welling up inside.

Is it what they call regaining oneself?

Or perhaps it’s a kind of Zen effect?

After entering the mountains alone and then heading out to sea alone, I feel better both physically and mentally.

Not having friends to invite might not be so bad for maintaining my mental and physical health.

That’s all for now.