The best way to discover little-known sights and make even familiar places feel brand new,

is to go exploring by bicycle.

This time, our road takes us through Tochigi.

This landlocked prefecture is known for its beautiful forests and mountains.

We're here at the height of spring, the fields wet with water flowing from the mountains,

as nature revives after the passing of winter.

This is a fish called ugui.

Careful of the hole in the net.

It's the spawning season now,
and they change color.

People in Tochigi are especially in tune with nature and the changing seasons.

Jagamaita! Jagamaita!

Rich soil is vital for farming, and here they make it the old way.

This will turn it into soil.

It's a completely natural process.

Come with us now on a 360-kilometer ride through Tochigi in spring.

The Kanto Plain covers a wide area of eastern Japan that includes Tokyo.

Tochigi sits at the northernmost edge of this plain.

Our cyclist this time is Zac Reynolds, from Australia.

When Zac's not hill climbing, his favorite sport, he works for a cycle manufacturer.

So, apart from a couple of work trips I haven't really been here for about twenty years.

I brought a bike that's got some big tires on it

so that I can go a little bit off road and do a little bit of exploring.

OK, let's go!

This will be a four-day trip.

Day one takes us from the Nasu Highlands to the banks of the Naka River.

On day two, we ride south to the famous pottery town of Mashiko.

And days three and four take us through lush farming country to our goal in the mountains of the west.

I love this season, after the cherry blossoms have disappeared.

Lots of different greens on all these new leaves.

We're surrounded by these fields of livestock feed.

Just over there you can see the azaleas in bloom at the bottom.

Some yellowy greens, darker light greens.

The darker cedar, evergreens there.

This is the color of spring to me.

Wow, look at this view.

Wow, looking down over this valley.

Look at all of those greens there.

This spring landscape is a mosaic, a symphony in green.

All of these late-blooming pink sakura here, beautiful.

Wow, check this out.

Look at these carp streamers here. There must be hundreds of them.

"Koinobori."

"Koinobori" streamers are traditionally hung as a prayer for children to grow strong and healthy.

Ah, when the wind blows it looks like the carp are swimming upstream.

A couple of big apples here.

Oh, there's someone there, let's go in and have a look.

Hello!

Sorry to interrupt you.
Are these apple trees?

Yes, it's my orchard.

- I see some of the trees are in bloom.
- The flowers just opened recently.

My grandfather's generation first developed
this area for farming.

- So quite recently then?
- Yes, about 70 or 80 years ago.

Hatakeyama grows apples and vegetables here on her parents' farm.

Over here we have Chinese chives.
They'll be ready to ship by tomorrow or so.

- The small ones have a stronger taste?
- Right.

And growing outdoors,
they absorb more nutrients from the soil.

When this area was first developed,
the soil was very poor.

To improve soil quality, they introduced herds of dairy cattle.

Fertilized by the cows, the soil grew rich.

All the hard work by those early farmers
gave us today's fertile land.

This is now a productive farming area, filled with rice paddies.

We've come out along quite a big river here.

See, lots of this nice green foliage.

Some of these yellow flowers, I think they're canola flowers growing wild.

The Naka River flows from the Nasu mountains, fed by melting snow.

Ah, this is gorgeous.

It's a perfect day for cycling.

There's a couple of guys on a boat down the river here.

Oh, he's just casting a net.

I wonder what they can catch in here.

Let's go down and have a closer look.

Hello!

- What are you doing?
- Fishing for dace.

We call it ugui.

Spring is the season to fish for it.

You've caught a lot.

In the spring spawning season,
these fish change color.

They turn orange.

The river also changes color in spring, taking on a cloudy whitish shade.

The river water turns this color in spring.

For me, it signals the arrival of the season.

It's caused by runoff from nearby rice paddies.

Preparing the fields for rice planting produces
a lot of muddy water.

This rises to the surface where it's warmed by the sun.

When the warm, muddy water runs into the river,
this tells the fish it's time to spawn.

For three generations, Kuniyasu's family have fished this river.

Spring is also spawning season for Japanese striped loach.

- I set traps by the river edge.
- For loach?

Yes, a kind called shimadojo.

I don't expect we'll catch many, though.

Oh, I got two.
I wonder if they have eggs?

Yes, look how fat their bellies are.
And there's a glass shrimp too.

Better luck with the next trap, perhaps.

- Ah!
- I see lots.

- Yes, plenty in this one.
- A good catch.

These are all shimadojo.

This one's full of eggs.
It's almost ready to spawn.

A sign spring is in full swing.

This is the busy time for people too.

We all farm as well as fish.
I'm a rice farmer myself.

As a youth Kuniyasu left for the city, where he worked as a chef.

But in his mid 30s he couldn't forget this river, and decided to return to his roots.

I spent my whole childhood here.

I remember the feeling of wind in the spring,
and the smell of the river.

My grandfather would bring me down here
and carry me across the river on his back.

He showed me how to fish for ugui,
and to look under stones for sculpin eggs.

The river was part of our daily lives.

Kuniyasu is cooking some of his catch for Zac to try.

Ah, that smell brings back memories.

You can only catch them in spring,
so you can't eat them any other time.

See what you think.

- These are the ones we just caught?
- The shimadojo, right. Cooked with egg.

I didn't think they'd have so much taste.

It has a simple, but quite strong flavor.

The sweetfish season comes next, in June.

Then we get salmon and crabs.
And in the winter, carp.

It's a great river for fish.

A fine spring day on a beautiful river.

Today, Zac will first head toward Utsunomiya.

Looks like the center of the property here.

A little bit of feed bales up here.

Oh. Yeah, it's a nice view.

There's a bunch of cattle here.

Hello ladies, looks like feeding time.

This is nice, it looks like we're coming into a little hamlet here.

A stone warehouse there.

It's quite unusual for Japan.

You don't see a lot of stone architecture, but look at this, both sides.

Wow, check these out.

Look at this old stone church up here.

It looks like it's been made of the same stone as what we've seen on the way up into the city.

Looks like it's fairly soft. It's full of holes.

There's a lot of different colors in it.

Oya stone is an excellent insulator, widely used in Tochigi for storehouses, especially for rice.

This stone was first excavated by hand, from mines going as deep as 200 meters.

Created from volcanic ash deposits, Oya stone became a major Utsunomiya product.

After Utsunomiya, Zac's next stop will be the town of Mashiko.

Looks like we're heading into an old town here.

A bunch of tents out.

Tents, tents and more tents.

Hello! Why so many tents?
Is it some kind of event?

It's the spring ceramics market.

We're getting ready to open tomorrow.

For over 200 years, Mashiko has been famous for its pottery, which is a major draw for tourists.

It's a cute little bowl.

This one in dark blue. For pouring some sauce.

It's nice.

- Is all this pottery made locally?
- That's right.

This area started out making kitchenware.

Why did a ceramics industry develop here?

I suppose because we have the right clay
and plenty of firewood.

Zac is now going to visit a Mashiko potter.

Should be just up here.

Ah, here it is.

- Hello! Are you Wakasugi san?
- That's right.

The manager at the pottery shop said
you'd be happy to talk with me.

Wakasugi Shu has been working in ceramics ever since he came to live in Mashiko, 50 years ago.

- Such cute shapes.
- These are Yakishime teapots.

They're unglazed - this is the color of the natural clay.

I use 100% local clay from Mashiko.

The clay around Mashiko comes in various colors, and Wakasugi makes full use of this diversity in his work.

This is a greenish clay.

I feels like rock.

Natural clay is hard.

It contains quite a lot of sand.

It feels like the sand would rub off easily.

- I dig it up by hand.
- This one is very sandy too.

This is the whitest kind of Mashiko clay.

Wakasugi uses 15 varieties of clay, many of which he mines himself.

When I first came to Mashiko,
clay was still being made here by hand.

I spent a year learning the technique.

The superlative clay produced by its artisans helped make Mashiko famous.

But as the old experts aged, their craft slowly died out.

Wakasugi had to begin making his own clay.

Look here. These are different types
of natural clay.

This is pink and this is white.

He adds pulverized natural clay to a bucket of water, and waits for the sand to settle on the bottom.

Next I stir like this,
so only the clay floats to the surface.

You have to stir carefully to avoid
disturbing the sand.

He'll scoop the fine clay off the top and set it out to dry.

Left here with the wind blowing over it,
it dries out in about a week.

This isn't ready yet.

It looks like chocolate mousse.

If you knead hard natural clay,
it becomes sort of soft and slippery.

I don't know why this happens.

You don't get that with store-bought clay.

I guess you have to dig it up yourself to see
what it was originally like in nature.

Nature around Mashiko is incredibly rich.

When I saw just how rich it is, it inspired me
to use of all that variety in my pottery.

It takes good clay and a fertile mind to create fine pottery.

Today we start from Tochigi City.

Zac's first stop will be the neighboring town of Oyama.

It's a nice spot with these willows along the river too.

The old merchant houses lining these banks are a reminder of busier times.

This river was once packed with boats carrying rice and silk to the capital, then called "Edo."

A little boat tour here.

Hello!

Let's get off this main road here.

Coming into a bit of a township here.

Oh, looks like there's something going on here.

Hello!

Looks like they're making some sort of decoration.

- Good morning.
- Hello!

- What are you doing here?
- Today is May fifth, the day of the Jagamaita Festival.

- What is it?
- A dragon.

The Ja of Jagamaita means snake,
but it's actually a dragon festival.

It goes back about 400 years.

The Jagamaita Festival is unique to the Mamada district of Oyama.

Each of the town's seven neighborhoods makes its own dragon using locally-grown bamboo and ferns.

Why a dragon festival?

To bring the great dragon kings
down from heaven.

They bless us with rain and good harvests.

A spring rain festival.

The festival brings together the whole community, young and old, to pray for the coming year.

This is the first time it's been held in three years, due to the Covid pandemic.

Zac has spotted a fellow American in the crowd.

Justin Dobbin, from Colorado, is a local English teacher.

We don't have this where I'm from, where the neighborhood gets together and does something like this.

I just thought it was really cool.

Everybody goes off to work and you don't see each other that often.

But when they say let's do this together, I think that's really nice, you know.

Give the dragon plenty to drink.

A purifying swig of sake to start the procession.

You drink too!

Lift it up!

Jagamaita! Jagamaita!

The original meaning of "Jagamaita" is thought to be "The dragon has come!"

So, the dragon's on the move.

We're heading up to the local shrine here for more of the ceremony.

Keep the head down!

Careful of the steps here!

Watch the head!

The dragons from the town's seven neighborhoods are now all lined up in the grounds of the shrine.

The next step is to take the dragons to drink in a sacred pond.

Jagamaita!

One more time!

Jagamaita!

The third district's dragon has drunk enough.
It's now leaving the pond tail first!

Why do they dunk it in the pond?

We make it drink water, although the original
legend is a bit different.

It's said the pond used to be filled with sake.

So drunken dragons rampaged through the town.

That's what we're imitating as
we carry it along the streets.

Energized by the pond water, the dragons parade through the town, driving away any misfortunes.

Go up by the head, Zac!

Over the course of the day, the dragons will visit each house in the district.

Thank you very much!

People believe a visit by the dragon keeps their home safe from disease and disaster for the coming year.

Back out slowly now.

Thank you very much!

It's is pretty heavy.

You can see why there's like 50-60 people carrying it.

A little bit of shift of the weight, it really comes down on you.

How was that, Zac?

Great fun, although I didn't always get the timing right.

You have to synchronize your breathing
and move in synch to carry a load like this.

You're right. We have to move as one.
We're united by our purpose, too.

Everyone takes part in this annual ritual
to purify our neighborhood.

It only works when we all pull together.

The spirit of spring is still strong in this local festival.

Starting our last day on this beautiful wetland here.

You can see Mt. Fuji in the distance over there.

Ah, beautiful day.

Zac is now riding through Watarase-Yusuichi, one of Japan's largest wetlands,

where beds of reeds stretch to the horizon.

Some smaller farming villages.

It looks like some greenhouse cultivation here.

"Yasai-Nae."

So yeah, we found this shop that grows seedlings for vegetables.

Hello!

Those are fine looking seedlings.
What kind did you buy?

Tomatoes. Medium size.

And mizunasu, a sort of eggplant.

- Are you a farmer?
- No, no, it's just a hobby.

What's in these green houses here? Let's have a quick look in here.

Looks like they've got a lot of tomatoes, different varieties of tomatoes here.

This nursery sells a very popular range of summer vegetable seedlings.

These are getting nice and tall.

The soil looks nice and moist and the leaves are really healthy.

They've got a bed of leaves underneeth.

I wonder why that is?

- Hello!
- Good morning!

What's the purpose of this bed of leaves
under the seedlings?

- To make soil to put in the pots.
- The leaves turn into soil?

- Look closely and you'll see bits of leaves.
- Right, there are small leaf fragments.

It's a bit hard to see, but yeah, these are leaf fragments that are still left.

Soil made from leaves is called humus.

It has many desirable qualities.

Water drains from it easily,
and it stores fertilizer and nutrients well.

The nursery is run by Otsuka Yoshinobu and his wife Fumie.

Yoshinobu took over the business from his father 22 years ago.

Let's see how they make their soil.

- These are the same leaves you saw before.
- This is where you store them?

Yes. We gather them from the surrounding hills.

This is rice bran.
We start by spreading it on the leaves.

My wife and I do this together.
She sprays water while I mix in the bran.

One person can't do this.

It's really hard work.

But surely leaves don't weigh much?

True, but when there's so many it gets very heavy.

We spend a month doing this each winter.

It's very hard on the body.

After they've been stirred up, it's my job
to tramp them down like this.

This hardens the leaves into a solid mass.
It's an old traditional method.

- That looks like the hardest part.
- It is, because I mustn't stop.

- You need a strong back and legs.
- Oh yes, I'm pretty strong.

Trampling on the leaves triggers fermentation,
which turns them into soil.

- Soil is created by fermentation?
- Right. That's basically what happens.

Making soil this way has another advantage.

As the leaves ferment, they produce heat.

That's another reason we spread them under
the seedlings. Instead of using artificial heat.

- It's like a hot carpet.
- So they keep giving off heat?

Yes, we're using nature's warmth
instead of things like oil heaters.

Otsuka is taking Zac to show him where they collect the leaves.

Otsuka has been a keen cyclist all his life, and he sets a brisk pace.

That's it, up ahead.

Where they're going is an area known as a satoyama:

a semi-wild hillside carefully managed for the benefit of the whole community.

It's hard going here.

- Are you OK? Got enough gears?
- If I run out of gears, I'll get off.

- Still plenty of fallen leaves.
- I see lots, yes.

This is where we always collect them.

You get all your leaves to make soil here?

Yes. In summer we cut the undergrowth
and in winter we gather the leaves.

In spring, deciduous trees like konara oak make this satoyama a lush green paradise.

We burn dead branches in our stoves.
It's all part of the natural cycle.

- All part of managing the satoyama?
- Right.

Is your bike OK on this bit?

Not sure if I can make it myself.

You did well, Zac.
This is the end here.

Check the view from here.
Amazing isn't it?

Looking down over his village reinforces Otsuka's determination to preserve its satoyama for future generations.

You were surprised to see
how fallen leaves turn into soil.

But of course that's what happens
naturally in the forest.

I'm so used to this work, it was great to see
it fresh through Zac's eyes.

It gave me a whole new perspective.

I realized again how central the cycle of
nature should be to our lives.

I'm not very good at explaining such things.

But by selling seedlings I can spread the word
about the importance of our mountains.

Zac is now approaching the final goal of his journey, a plateau 1,300 meters above sea level.

As we're getting higher, you can see the leaves getting lighter again.

It's like we're going backwards into spring.

These mountain azaleas too, sort of reds and the pinks.

It's like we're going back in time into early spring again.

Looks like we're coming out into some grazing land.

Looks like a good spot.

Oh, what a view.

Oh... beautiful.

I guess we came up from over that direction.

The mountains of Tochigi fill the landscape, verdant with the fresh green of spring.

It was really easy to see that it's all part of a cycle.

I think with urban living it's easy to lose sight of the fact that we are living in this cycle,

and that you can't just sort of grow our food anywhere anytime.

Yet you need to sort of understand the environment that you're taking sustenance from,

and maintain that environment and its cycles so we can keep doing that year after year.

I can see spring of course wherever I ride,

but just riding somewhere different for a change, and looking closely, rather than the roads I always ride,

and then meeting the people who are like living together with their land, and sort of looking at that every day and seeing the changes,

it sort of makes me appreciate where I live a little bit more deeply.

Spring in the mountains and villages of Tochigi, the season of revival when the cycle of life begins once again.