At a clearing in the forest, the path brings me to an old timber lodge built from the cedar and cypress that grow abundantly around here. A wisp of smoke curls up from the chimney, and the eaves are hung with strings of drying persimmons that glow as golden as the morning sun that warms them.
Two hundred years ago, this building served as a checkpoint where travelers were searched for contraband or charged levies. These days it’s a teahouse () called Ichikokutochi, offering refreshments to passersby. A couple of volunteers keep the log-fire burning, sweep the packed-earth floor, and pour complimentary beakers of tea. The
