In early spring, Australian cyclist Zac Reynolds rides through Gunma Prefecture. Among an endless landscape of cabbages near Mt. Akagi, he stops to chat with a group of women farmers and taste their crop, crisper and fresher than any he has ever eaten. After riding across Mt. Haruna, he meets a master blacksmith whose hand-crafted blades are widely famous, and in the remote village of Nanmoku, he talks with a young man revitalizing this mountain area, advised and encouraged by its energetic elderly inhabitants.
Spring has just arrived, and we're off to explore Gunma.
Gunma has its famous sights, but it has many hidden attractions too.
This is an area known for its powerful womenfolk.
It's delicious!
And artisans who never stop pursuing excellence.
The true value of a tool is in its use.
I'm always happy to be told they work well.
If you enjoy hill climbing, this is the place for you.
Come with us now, on a 380-kilometer ride through Gunma.
Gunma is situated in the center of Japan's main island of Honshu.
It's home to about 1.9 million people.
We start our ride in Maebashi, the prefectural capital.
It's the perfect time of year for riding.
It's, you know, coming out of winter, warming up a bit,
and maybe the cherry blossoms will still be blooming.
We'll see.
Zac Reynolds moved to Japan from Australia in 1998.
After a long career in professional racing, he's started to slow down a bit,
and now cycles mostly for pleasure.
So this is my bike for the trip.
I've got a couple of changes of clothes in the back here
and stuff I use along the way in this little bag here.
So what I usually use... a little towel,
and this is my snacks for my ride.
I make some muesli bars whenever I can.
OK, the bike's ready.
OK, let's go!
First, Zac heads towards the neighboring city of Takasaki.
There's a lovely old wooden bridge here.
Such bridges are a rare sight these days.
Look at the colors on this train.
The old Sano Bridge has been lovingly restored many times over the years.
Beautiful! Perfect timing.
Zac has arrived just as the cherry blossoms have come into full magnificent bloom.
We're getting out of the flat plain in the center of Gunma, rising up a little bit towards Akagi san.
20 kilometers from the start of the trip, and Zac is deep in farming country.
Some cabbages here on the left, some more on the right.
Near the foothills of Mount Akagi, the main crop is now cabbages.
Looks like they're doing some harvesting here.
Let's stop and have a look.
- Hello! Are you getting in the crop?
- That's right.
These are spring cabbages.
April is harvest time for this variety of cabbage.
They're very tender and tasty,
but only available for a brief period in spring.
Aoki Akemi began growing cabbages about 40 years ago, and now runs a quite extensive farm.
In this season, she will harvest 2,500 cabbages a day.
Aoki hires local housewives to help with this intensive work.
They're all mothers, with kids
in school or kindergarten.
They manage to do this at the same time as bringing up children.
Emi! Come over here.
Working for Aoki is great because we can
easily take time off if our kids need us.
We might get a call saying a child has a fever.
No problem - they can just go straight home.
I don't mind being flexible about such things.
We know we can always trust her,
so we relax and enjoy working together.
Gunma is famous for its dry blustery winds,
and for its no-nonsense tough women.
We're not afraid of hard work, that's for sure.
Akagi spring cabbages are known for their juiciness and sweet taste.
- I eat this part?
- Yes, just take a big bite.
Very tasty. Not bitter at all.
- It's very tender.
- Tender and sweet.
Aoki's husband Tatsutoshi.
They've been married 50 years.
She's the boss!
Yes, I just do what she says.
I can't think of anything better than
working together as a couple like this.
These young mothers are so healthy and active.
Full of life, and loving it.
Children thrive when their mums are happy.
So I feel I'm helping everyone with this work.
You have to be cheerful, and tough, to be a mother in Gunma.
Fantastic cycling path along the river.
Nice cool breeze.
The Tone River runs the length of Gunma.
This cycling route follows it for 88 kilometers.
Look at this big field of yellow flowers.
It looks like canola flowers or rapeseed flowers.
It's really a very colorful season.
Historically, much of the region's growth was driven by its great river.
Quite a bit higher up, so you get a good view of the dam too.
Coming into a little town here.
I wonder if this is the main part of Kanna town.
"Hamono kobo."
Looks like a blacksmith. Nice little bike in there.
Check this out.
Hello! Anyone there?
- Are you the blacksmith?
- That's right.
- Is it OK if I come in and take a look?
- Sure.
Amano Ken is the fourth generation of a family that have been blacksmiths here for over 120 years.
He makes everything from farm tools to kitchen implements.
Looks like he's making a couple of different things at the same time, sort of heating them
and then sort of shaping one while he's heating the other and then putting one back in and then shaping the next one.
Amano gets orders from all over Japan for tools that can't be mass produced and need an artisan's skills to make.
How many different tools do you make?
I don't know, there are so many.
Probably as many kinds as I have customers.
Amano's ruling passion is to craft unique tools for each customer's needs.
He forges each blade to match both the physique and the personality of the person who will use it.
The curved shape of this machete-like knife makes it light and effective at cutting.
Amano invites Zac to try it out...
You learn fast.
A good tool makes a clean cut.
My father said you must use tools yourself
if you want to understand their design.
He made me work in the fields to figure out
the reason for each blade's shape and angle.
Amano had always watched his father Katsuo at work.
He began his own training at age 25.
His father kept working in the smithy until he passed away at 69.
He wasn't afraid of dying.
But he was worried about not being able to work.
He said he was happy knowing
that his tools would live on after him.
What makes me really happy is when
people tell me my tools do the job well.
Tools should be used - that's what they're for.
Of course I am happy when people praise my tools.
The flame of a father's passion burns on in the son.
Coming down into the village now.
Wow, look at this view!
Zac has come to the western edge of Gunma, to the village of Nanmoku.
Good morning!
Big ravine there, with the river coming through it.
Nanmoku was once a very prosperous area.
Its wealth was based on the cultivation of silk and konnyaku.
Today the population has fallen to around 1,600, and the average age is 68.
This village is aging faster than anywhere else in Japan.
Hello!
Someone should be waiting to meet Zac down in the village.
Pleased to meet you.
- You look so young!
- Well, I'm 27.
Sato Yuta came here three years ago.
At first, he worked as a volunteer with a regional revitalization group.
He's now moved on to engage in a number of new projects, working closely with the villagers.
- My job today is Mokumeshi.
- What's that?
It's our food delivery service.
The service started two years ago, after the COVID pandemic hit.
It allowed local restaurants to send freshly prepared meals to customers who had stopped dining out.
Look at the houses.
It's like they're stacked up one on top of the other, up on these rock walls.
Imagine the hardships of life up here, so far up in the mountains.
Over the centuries, local farmers built stone walls to create space for houses and fields on these steep slopes.
The result is a hill-climber's dream.
This is certainly my exercise for the day.
- It's up here, Zac.
- I'm coming!
Still going up.
We're in Hoshio, the most remote part of the village.
That's the hardest ride since I stopped racing.
I don't do this kind of cycling anymore.
Hello! I've brought your meals!
Excuse me! He's brought a visitor too.
- Here are your bento lunches.
- Thank you for coming all this way.
It must be convenient, getting meals delivered.
You wouldn't expect this service,
way up here in the mountains.
We're so grateful for these deliveries.
- You live in a beautiful spot.
- It's very high.
In the village below they say
we must look down on the crows as they fly.
Unbelievably, Ichikawa Genzo is 80 years of age.
Living his whole life in this village, he's a walking encyclopedia of the area.
Things we grow up here might not look so good,
but they are really tasty.
That's what I like best about mountain life.
Sato is grateful for the many insights into life he's gained by listening to the villagers' tales of the old times.
Living here feels like I gained
a whole set of great new grandparents.
It's a great thing for the village when
serious young people like Sato come to live here.
- He's made everyone very happy.
- I just try my best.
One of Sato's many projects is converting abandoned farmland for flower cultivation.
He focuses on varieties that grow best in this area.
We grow these to use as Christmas wreaths.
The old folk are happy to teach Sato skills he can use to develop such new commercial opportunities.
I worked long and hard to gain the knowledge
I have, and I want to pass it on.
His job will be to adapt things
to suit the times.
Sato continues to discover fresh potential in the knowledge and experience of these elderly villagers,
a wisdom that shows no sign of fading with age.
These villagers don't seem old at all.
They're always keen to start something new.
This may be the fastest aging village in Japan,
but that's because they all want to live long.
Old, but full of life.
Japan's oldest, but most energetic village.
I'm heading for our goal today in the major peak surrounding the central Gunma area, Mount Myogi.
There's a spot up here with the best view of Mount Myogi, and that's where we'll end this trip.
At least we've got a view. Look up here.
Sheer cliffs with these little jagged boulders.
Ah, here we are.
Look at these jagged peaks up here.
Wow, that's awesome.
This is Mount Myogi.
It took millennia of erosion to create this rocky landscape.
A perfect finish to the trip.
From the people I've met on this trip, you could sense the passion for improving.
Seeing these people who've been working for 30 or 40 or 50 years at the same career,
from the couple growing the cabbages to the blacksmith as well.
There's a lot of experience there that can't be copied by technology these days.
And just the energy that they still have and, you know,
the feeling that they have for where they live and life is not over for them, even though they're 80 years old.
It just gives you sort of an enthusiasm to continue growing myself.
The old folks of Gunma and their passion for living -
an inspiration to any cyclist thinking about the next phase of their life.