Two forests, ogres, a poetess, and me in the middle, tiny but curious.
A border mountain that doesn’t pick a side
Mount Futatsumori peaks at 1,086 metres, somewhere between Aomori and Akita prefectures. Not a very high summit, but a wild one. It sits at the heart of Shirakami-Sanchi, a UNESCO World Heritage massif of wild beech, entered only with respect, and perhaps a little luck. No tourist roads, no vending machines at the top: nature reigns here! 👑
And yet, Futatsumori is an exception. It’s one of the rare authorised entries into the protected area. An easy climb, barely an hour from the forest track, but one that feels like crossing an invisible threshold: into a forest that has remained intact for years.
Two ogres, two horses, a dawn escape
The name Futatsumori, “the two forests,” also evokes an old legend. Two ogres are said to have wanted to build their own mountain in the middle of the night, hauling earth on horseback. But the song of a rooster surprised them at dawn. In panic, they abandoned their load: the earth formed the mountain, the horses turned to stone, and the pass where they fled is still called Onikoe, “the demons’ pass”.
Primary forest and ancient gods
As you climb, the forest changes tone. Siebold beeches grow denser, light filters in oblique rays between the trunks. The matagi, ancient animist hunters of Tōhoku, considered this place the domain of Yama-no-Kami, god of the mountain. They prayed before each hunt, spoke in low voices, and asked the bear’s forgiveness before killing it.
Today, hunting is forbidden. But the mountain itself has not changed.
Love buried beneath the leaves
Another story, another mood. In neighbouring Akita Prefecture, they say the poetess Ono no Komachi, legendary beauty of the 9th century, came to end her days not far from here. She is said to have buried her lover here, who died of exhaustion trying to prove his faithfulness to her. Two twin hills, called Futatsu Mori, are said to be their tombs. The “male hill” for him, the “female hill” for her. A mother is said to have built a shrine, a father a temple, and the trees covered everything.
Futatsumori is not just a sacred mountain. It is a discreet mausoleum, a stage set for tragic love.
A summit with many faces
Once at the top, the landscape opens like a relief map. To the west, on a clear day, you can glimpse the Sea of Japan. To the north, Mount Iwaki stands out, solitary. To the south and east, the snowy ridges of Shirakami stretch out as far as the eye can see. Despite its modest altitude, Futatsumori offers one of the most beautiful panoramas of the massif.
But it’s not just the view that grabs you. It’s the contrast: you stand, alone or almost, on a tiny point between two provinces, two stories, two names: Futatsumori on the Akita side, Tomari-dake on the Aomori side, “the mountain where one spent the night.” Today, you climb it in under an hour. But you leave taking your time 🙂
Altitude bonus
Climbing Futatsumori isn’t ticking off a summit on a map. It’s a green slap, a shot of chlorophyll served with panoramic views and legends included!
