I have a satnav in my car (or, car navi, if you’re in Japan).  I call her Navi, because she is annoying in a HAY, LISTEN HAY, LISTEN sort of way.

Anyway, to get to my part of town from Route 4, there’s the front way, by coming in at Lower Houshakuji and then going to my house from the south, or there are weird back ways, coming in from the north, on narrow bendy one lane roads with blind corners. I’d only ever gone down one of these back ways, and that was to get OUT of Houshakuji, not get in.

On the way back from Ujiie a little while back, I thought, welp, let’s try one of the back ways.  One of them comes in just south of the junior high school, and along the west side of the tracks until south of the station where it meets the front way in.  The other comes in just north of the junior high school. I took this one. Once Navi had recalculated, she directed me to turn left off this road, cross the train tracks (a car-passable, but not car-designed crossing over the Tohoku Line), go a bit south and cross over the Karasuyama Line, then direct to home. Excellent, I thought. Good times.

Crossed the Tohoku line, took a quick right, and headed towards the Karasuyama Line crossing.  There was, however, a small issue. (1) At this point, the Karasuyama line exists in a deep ditch carved out of the rise on which Houshakuji sits and (2) the crossing is actually a bridge, not a level crossing.  What’s the problem with that, you’re wondering? What’s wrong with a bridge?  I’ll show you what’s wrong with a bridge.

Bridge over the Karasuyama Line

That’s right. Navi wanted me to drive over a footbridge to get home.  Home was quite close, at this point too! 500m at most. I could just make out the roof in the distance off to the right. Would have taken me like, 2 minutes to get home… had it been a real bridge, and not a foot bridge.  Instead, I had to double back, cross back to the west side of the Tohoku line, drive south until that road met the other backway, and then pass the station and come in the normal way.  Disappointing, to be sure.

It would have been a great way home, if there’d been a real bridge there. Navi, bless her, she means well but she’s thick as a brick.

View Giant Trees of Tochigi in a larger map

There are trees! Giant ones! All over Japan!  There were plenty in Toyama, and I wanted to take pictures of them all and learn about their lives, but I ran out of time.

Now that I live in Tochigi, though, I fully intend to document them all.  ALL OF THEM.

You can read more at the The Giant Trees of Tochigi Project page.

Number: 4
Name: The Giant Ginkgo of Jougan Temple (成願寺のイチョウ)
Type: Ginkgo
Height: 30m
Trunk Circumference: 5.9m
Age: 500 years
Location: 栃木県宇都宮市西刑部町（成願寺） (36° 29′ 56″N 139° 55′ 53″E)
Date of Visit: 2010-1-31

If you head eastward out of Utsunomiya on the new-ish National Route 121, just past the Industrial Park at Shimokuwajima-machi, on the right (south) side of the road, you will see a large Ginkgo.

Much like the Gingko, Jougan Temple is a splendid temple. These days, the temple and the grounds are undergoing improvements and work. Thought I tried to avoid it, the pylons of this work could not but find their way into some of the images.

The temple was founded in Tempyou-jingo 1 (765 CE) by Shoudou, who also founded temples in Nikko. The road the passes the gate, Municipal Road 406, has been called Jougan Temple Highway since time immemorial. This Ginkgo was surely a landmark for people walking the road.

Number: 2
Name: Grand Ginkgo of Asahimachi (旭町の大いちょう)
Type: Gingko
Height: 32m
Trunk Circumference: 6.2m
Age: 300+ years
Location: 栃木県宇都宮市中央１丁目 (36° 33′ 27″N 139° 52′ 57″E)
Date of Visit: 2010-1-31

In Utsunomiya, at the intersection of the north-south road connecting City Hall with the Prefectural Government building and Ichou-dori, on the northwest corner stands this Ginkgo tree. The elevated location where it stands is the remnant of an earthen wall that formed a boundary at Utsunomiya Castle, but as it is now quite close to the downtown core, it was mostly lost. The Ginkgo was a symbol of Utsunomiya Castle, and later, an important symbol to the people of Utsunomiya City.

On July 12, 1945, from midnight until dawn, Utsunomiya suffered an American air raid. There were many victims, and approximately half the city center was lost. In the conflagration, this Ginkgo tree, too, was a victim, burned until it was completely pitch black. Yet, in the spring after the end of the war, green buds were to be seen sprouting from the tree that was thought to be dead. This gallantly strong life force lit the fire of courage in the hearts of the people of Utsunomiya.

Since then, this Ginkgo has become a symbol of the post-war revival. In 1986, on the 90th anniversary of the incorporation of Utsunomiya City, the citizens chose the Ginkgo as the city’s official tree. Surely, they were thinking of the Grand Ginkgo of Asahimachi when they made their choice.

Number: 1
Name: Giant Zelkova of Shinmachi (新町のケヤキ)
Type: Japanese Zelkova (Zelkowa Serrata)
Height: 38m
Trunk Circumference: 7.4m
Age: 800 years
Location: 栃木県宇都宮市新町２丁目 (36° 32′ 53″N 139° 52′ 31″E)
Date of Visit: 2010-1-31

Just 800m southwest of Utsunomiya City Hall, turn a corner and find yourself in a quiet residential area. Here is the Giant Zelkova of Shinmachi. Despite the homes and shops that have grown up in the area, the tree is so tall it can be seen nearly two kilometers away in Fudoumae.

According to the information board, in the Edo period, the tree stood near the entrance to the grounds of Utsunomiya Castle, and as such served as a landmark for travellers.

The roots seem to have grown under the street and other pavements. Though the environment has become difficult for this Zelkova, it still stands proud and lives vigorously. Some of the branches completely overhang the road. For this to have been preserved in a city area is precious, indeed.

In the pre-war days, there were three Zelkova like this, but now, only the largest tree remains, its companions having been felled long ago. That a single tree survives, though, is a happy thing. Surely, the people who worked to preserve this tree, and still work to preserve it, deserve our gratitude.

I love nashi, and I love chu-hi, but this was cloyingly sweet.  It was like sugar sugar sugar, and not really nashi-tasting at all.  It was… um… however much chu-hi costs at convenience stores? (shrug)

Everywhere in Japan, it seems, has something it’s famous for. When I told people that I was moving to Tochigi, the first thing they all said was, “Ooh! Gyoza!”. Apparently gyoza in Tochigi are fantastic. I haven’t had any gyoza here yet (unless the ¥105 frozen 7-11 gyoza I had last night count [they don't]) so I can’t comment on how they taste.

Today though, I found the next best thing (?): Tochigi Fried Gyoza Potato Chips. Never one to pass up limited edition regional convenience store foods, I of course picked up a bag.

They don’t have much of a taste, really. Maybe like a mild consommé chip with just a touch of spice. They taste good enough, but as with most potato-chips-meant-to-taste-like-a-food-that-isn’t-potato-chips, they just end up tasting like… potato chips.

Tochigi Yaki Gyoza potato chips made by Calbee were ¥138 at Lawson.