The time had arrived to enter the next phase of our travels in Japan - a serious hunt for autumn colours. For that we were heading north to Aomori, in the far north of Honshu Island. Aomori has many of the so-called colour hot-spots in Japan, but as they say - timing is everything and an autumn hot-spot one week may be a bare tree and leaf-litter the next. We would soon find out.

We left Tendo early to drive past the apple orchards of the alluvial plains, then through the mountains to the east and finally back to Sendai to return the car. Then it was on board the Shinkansen for a 318 kph train ride north to Hachinohe, a small city in the east of Aomori. The sun was shining, but we noticed a distinct drop in temperature compared to further south, as we picked up our second rental car and headed out into the countryside. After all that travel, it was only midday.

It was a very different landscape to the south, hilly, but much more rural, with rice paddies, vegetable gardens, hops and grassy fields amongst the forests of conifers and broad-leafed trees. Eventually we arrived at Oirase Onsen, where we planned to stay in a hot-spring ryokan. For the moment, we drove on by to Tsutanuma Pond, a few kilometres up a steep, winding road and one of the ten best autumn locations in Aomori, according to the Japanese tourist information.

Still, it was a very pleasant forest and as virtually all the other colour-seekers turned and walked back to their cars, we continued on a soft leafy path that climbed up a slope covered in beech, with its thin canopy of yellow. The path led us past a mossy-rocked stream that flowed into tiny Kagaminuma Pond. It was small but offered nice reflections of orange in its still surface.

The track continued on to reach Tsukinuma Pond, a bit larger and lit up with a display of even brighter orange colours. We began to think that the crowds had missed out - these ponds were more impressive than Tsutanuma and it was nice being there on our own.

The climb continued up to a ridge above Naganuma Pond, which lay in deep shade in a depression within the hills. A short detour led down to a grassy flat at its end - not a lake for colour, but impressive because of its setting. We'd now reached the top of the climb and began a winding descent through the now shady forest - only 3pm and the sun had just disappeared behind the hill to the west.

Naganuma Pond in the autumn shadows

We soon found ourselves looking down through patches of red and orange to the marshlands of Suganuma Pond and then the large body of water beyond. Here we made a detour to descend down to the outflow of the pond into a babbling stream - a spot where the last rays of sun re-appeared through a saddle in the hills and the leaves glowed golden.

Finally, we retraced our steps to rejoin the main track and head back to the trailhead and carpark, passing Hyotan-numa, a small swampy depression and last of the Tsuta ponds. So the moral of the story is, if you visit Tsutanuma, don't just go to the big lake with all the other tourists, wander around the path to visit the smaller ones - for us it was a very rewarding stroll and we could see why it is World Heritage listed.

This was a walk that we had been looking forward to. The Oirase River flows out of Lake Towada, formed when water filled the caldera of a volcano some 200,000 years ago. It tumbles down a long gorge for 14 km in a series of rapids, waterfalls and fast-flowing straights beneath a broad-leaf forest that supposedly lights the sky in golden shades during autumn.

Was it going to disappoint us like Tsutanuma Pond? I won't keep you in suspense - the answer is no! Oirase Gorge was simply magnificent.

silvery waters
cascade through golden forest
symphony of light

We drove the short distance from our ryokan to the Oirase Open Air Museum, where the track began, and set off, stoppng briefly to detour to a road bridge and get our first view of the shallow and fast-flowing stream.

Then it was back to the track, which headed imperceptibly upwards following the course of the stream - clear, silvery water rushing down beneath a canopy of yellow leaves. For the rest of our trip, we would be surrounded by the yellows, oranges and occasionally reds of autumn leaves.

Even better, we were alone on the track in these tranquil surrounds, as we pushed on, occasionally in the forest, with its groundcover of small bamboo, ferns, horsetails and mossy rocks, often by the rushing stream and occasionally next to the road that also heads along the Oirase Gorge.

Sobe River Weir

This rhapsody persisted until we reached the Ishigedo Rest area, where the first set of rapids, Samidare and Ishigedo, appeared, foaming their way through the narrows formed by a series of tree- and moss-covered islets within the stream. It was spectacular, which means no surprise that it was a stopping point for bus tourists. Suddenly, the tranquility disappeared and we found ourselves jostling with lots of people - some serious photographers with their big cameras and tripods, others just trying to get the perfect selfie.

Ishigedo Rapids

Leaving the rapids behind, the crowd dispersed somewhat, but we would no longer be alone on the track. Up to here, it had been more a deep valley than a gorge, but the rock walls began to close in as we passed a series of lovely rapids - silvery streams of rushing water between mossy islets framed by the golden trees.

Mossy rocks beneath the gold and orange beech leaves

The long Kumoi-no-take Waterfall tumbled down from the rocks and flowed into the river. It was the start of the series of waterfalls flowing in from the side, which competed with the rapids for our admiration, as we crossed the river a couple of times.

The walls of Oirase Gorge begin to close in

This continued for a while as the gorge straightened out, culminating in our arrival at Choshi Otaki Falls, a 20m wide 7m high curtain of tumbling foam backed by the golden leaves of the forest. It was pretty much the high point of the river scenery - a couple more waterfalls and rapids appeared as we passed by, but we were becoming a bit blasé.

Finally, a large flood barrier announced the end of the rushing river - beyond it all was calm and we soon arrived at Nenokuchi, where the river flows out from Lake Towada. Lake Towada, itself, was quietly impressive - a large calm body of water, reflecting the greyness of the sky and surrounded by the hills of the ancient caldera in which it sits. From there, we could catch a bus back down the gorge to our ryokan at Oirase Onsen.

The calm greyness of Lake Towada

The autumn scenery on this walk was simply superb and for that, we would rate it high in our top 10 list of day-walks. The only conflicting part to that assessment was the proximity of the road (which may soon be by-passed) and the the fact that many other people are on the track. We like the solitude of walking, but that said, who can wish away the chance for others to see this magnificent bit of Japan's natural wonders.

We had moved our base to Yachi Onsen, one of the three secret onsens of Japan, according to the brochure. I'm not sure what makes an onsen secret, but it was situated up a narrow side road, completely in the forest beneath the cone of 1550m Takadaodake. Yachi has been operating for 400 years, so the building was old, but full of character, and the onsen boasted pools from two hot springs, one at 37°C and the other at 42°C, both with a silky milky-green water and light sulphurous smell. This has to be good for you. On top of that, the meals, centred around rock trout from this area and other local produce, were superb. I think we will keep this place a secret.

The one downside to Yachi was that most of the trees around it were bare. A couple of weeks ago this would have been a sea of red. We realised that there is no one peak time for autumn colour - reds seem to come and go before the yellows and oranges and altitude plays a more important role than latitude. It is the beginning of November and we had seen the golden hues at a very good time, but that meant missing the best of the reds. Still, we were determined - so, under a high pale grey cloud cover, we set off in our car in search of the colour red.

Leaving Yachi Onsen, we climbed steeply across the flank of Mt Hakkoda beneath a canopy largely composed of bare grey trunks, which we expected. We made two brief stops, unrelated to leaf colour. The first was at Suiren-numa Pond, a clear pool surrounded by reed beds and reflecting the peaks of Hakkoda in its still waters.

The second was very different, apart from the reflections, as Jigokunuma Pond is fed by sulphurous boiling water, steaming at its inflow and making the lake an opaque lime green in colour - pretty but dangerous.

We then drove on to the Jogakura Ohashi, a 360m long deck arch bridge that spans a 120m deep gorge. Here the tourist brochure photos show a deep red carpet of colour in the valley and slopes. For us, two weeks too late, it was much more subtle, with a base of grey and splashes of red and orange. In the distance, the larch groves were just getting a yellow fringe to their canopy. That peak of yellow was yet to come.

We pushed on, now descending quickly through series of snow tunnels and, yes, as we reached lower altitudes, the red colours were stronger on the ridge tops.

Our mission though was to get close to the red and, for that, we descended further down the winding mountain road to reach Nakano Momijiyama, another declared autumn colour hot spot in Aomori. This was more a garden setting, but the maples planted on this hillside above a running stream and small waterfall had been planted in the early 1800s - near enough to natural now. It was a Sunday, so we joined the Japanese on their day off and wandered around the paths of Momijiyama.

It was a very pleasant walk with a real mix of colours, red, orange and yellow with some trees still green. Hidden amongst this was the Nakano Shrine beneath some very large 200-year old fir trees. All in all a worthwhile stop - our hunt for red in November was succeeding.

There was one last stop, across the urbanised plain to visit Hirasaki Castle and its surrounding parklands, another designated autumn hotspot. The setting of the castle itself was superb, high above a surrounding moat with a backdrop of the distant Iwate Volcano.

The moat extended around the castle and some of the maples on its edge glowed crimson and red - perhaps not the most natural setting, but a superb one nonetheless. We felt vindicated in our hunt for red November and headed back up and over the Hakkoda Mountains to our base at Yachi Onsen. It was time to celebrate with a bottle of local Aomori sake after our rock trout dinner (and after a soak in the hot spring, of course).

Thus we set out from Sukaya Onsen, straight into the climb up a steep and rocky track that led us through the tall bamboo and grey bare trunks of post-autumn trees. The bamboo was tall enough to offer some protection from the cold westerly wind. That climb brought us up to a tier, where we had a relatively flat walk through the bamboo, dipping and climbing on occasion to cross the small creeks flowing down from above.

Another steep and rocky climb, with a few sets of steps brought us to the next tier, a grassy marshland that we crossed on a long ricketty boardwalk. It offered our first real glimpse of the mountain - still covered in swirling cloud.

The boardwalked track had climbed gently, but on reaching its end a set of over 300 wooden steps took us up to a third tier, a continuation of the grassy marshes of Kenishitai with their small reflective ponds. Behind us, we could see all the way to the distant mountain ranges in the west - it looked like the sun was shining there.

Into the cloud

We stopped for a bit to boost our energy levels as the climb was getting steeper. The wind was also getting colder, so it was time for full windproof gear, beanies and gloves. As we approached a band of fir trees, the path up through them became steeper and rockier. The first whisps of cloud blew through and it wasn't long before we had entered the cloud layer and the more distant firs took on a ghostly appearance.

The trees had protected us well from the wind - we only realised how much when we left their cover to reach more open terrain just beneath the saddle between Mt Idodake and Mt Hakkoda-san (at 1585m, the highest point of the Hakkoda Massif). We were hit by the icy blast of the strong westerly airstream driving the mists of cloud up the mountain slope. I glanced at the low scrubby bushes and stunted firs - they were covered in ice! The moisture of the cloud was freezing on their branches and leaves. The temperature must have been below zero and it certainly felt like it.

in the freezing mist
icicles glisten on branches
winter’s early blast

A few hundred metres further on, the welcome shape of Ohdake Refuge emerged from the mist. A group of Japanese students were there and they invited us in for some shelter from the wind. Having already climbed 630m, we were only 150m below the top of the volcano. Some of the students had been to the top earlier and showed us photos of total whiteness, as well as counselling against going up further. As even our jackets, goretex, beanies and gloves seemed unable to stop the glacial wind from cutting through, it seemed good advice not to take any risk for no view at all.

The score would be Hakkoda 1, intrepid walkers 0. We retreated down the path we had ascended and stopped for lunch back down on the Kenashitai Marshes, where the weather was more amenable, even a patch of sunshine, which meant only one thing - the cloud was lifting. Looking back up at the mountain, there was still a cap of cloud on its peak, but the flanks were exposed much higher up. It was an incredible sight, as the slopes were dotted with the icy white specks of trees and shrubs iced up from the polar blast. It was definitely wise not to have continued. A little while later, the cloud descended again - we weren't going to see the peak itself.

We continued down the tiers and through the bamboo thickets to reach Sukayu Onsen and the end of the walk, wondering what we had done to offend the volcanoes of Japan - this was our second attempt to climb one on this trip that had been either aborted or whited out and in an earlier visit to Japan we had been whited out on the slopes of Fujiyama.

Our time chasing autumn reds was almost over. We had one more night at the very nice ryokan in Oirase Onsen, feasting on Shabu Shabu and soaking in the thermal spring. Then it was on to Hachinohe for the start of our sampler adventure on the Michinoku Coastal Trail. However, there was one autumn colour hotspot just to the south of the city.

Nango Kakko-No-Mori has plantings of several hundred maple trees and, being on the coast rather than in the mountains, the season is a bit later. So we set our GPS for Nango and, after Google Maps had given us a grand tour of rural Aomori, taking us down narrow roads and through small villages, we arrived.

No it wasn't natural, but yes it was beautiful, with the maples in full colours from crimson to orange and a specimen of that king of autumn yellow, a gingko, giving a luminous display. It seemed a fitting end to our quest for autumn colours in Japan.

We headed on to Hachinohe Train Station, dropped off the car and left our luggage at a nearby hotel (the Japanese are very strict about check-in times - come back at 3pm). With a couple of hours to kill, we got ourselves some lunch at Lawson (one of the three big convenience store chains here) and wandered down to Itchykoo Park (OK Ichibancho Park) to eat it before taking a stroll around the wetlands and along the flood control dike of the Mabechi River. It was such a different day to our icy escapade on Hakkoda - T-shirts in a pleasant breeze and full sunshine.

So now it is time to get ourselves ready for a walk down Japan's Pacific Coast.