Stories about people, stories about life.

Hometown Stories.

Look, look, look.

What pretty flowers.

Do you see them?

This one looks like an eyeball wearing colored contacts.

Today we're featuring hiking guide Okawa Miki.

Most people call her by her nickname "Mikitty."

It's the fruit of the skeleton flower.

Good job finding it.

She has clients from all over Japan and is completely booked for the coming year.

Always smiling and positive. That's the Mikitty magic.

It's why I've traveled so far to see her.

Life has been so much fun ever since I began hiking with Miki.

Miki is usually bright and friendly, but there's another side to her too.

It's a miracle that I can smile now.

For a long time, I couldn't.

Miki's hiking excursions spread joy and laughter.

Let's take a closer look at a woman who creates connections in Japan's beautiful mountains.

Today's story takes us to the mountains of Tohoku, in northern Japan.

We'll be hiking up Mt. Iwate tomorrow,

so I'm going to buy some food to eat there.

Miki has been a hiking guide for a decade.

She always puts her clients first.

She asks them what they want to eat and prepares it for them during the hike.

Getting rewarded with delicious food makes everyone smile.

Cold weather is forecast for the following day, so she plans a warming menu.

I want to treat them to udon noodles and delicious meat tomorrow,

so that I can make them smile. And I can smile, too.

Miki is finding it difficult not to overpack.

How heavy is it going to be?

I'll be in trouble tomorrow.

Is this going to be enough?

I'll get another one.

Food is important.

Let's take some herbs.

OK, I'm done.

The climb up takes about three and a half hours,

but let's go slowly.

We're all carrying heavy packs.

On this day, she will be guiding a repeat client who lives far away, along with her first-timer friend.

The day has finally come for me to fulfill my dream.

This woman has been looking after her elderly mother.

She comes to Miki to rejuvenate herself.

Give it your best, Kyo.

- You too, Jun.
- Let's do it.

Miki's backpack looks so heavy.

She must have packed so many supplies for our dinner.

We'll get there step by step.

All it takes is effort.

Climbing mountains is like life.

Great point.

Five hours into their hike...

...the weather takes a turn for the worse.

I brought smoked pickles.

Miki always makes a point to talk to her clients as though they were old friends.

I also brought smoked eggs.

For everyone.

Are you alright?

C'mon, Kyo!

- I'm going to climb.
- Can you do it?

Nice, very good.

Mt. Iwate is keeping us on our toes.

You're right, Jun.

Always smiling and positive.

That's the Mikitty magic.

Of course, hiking brings me joy,

but not as much as Miki does.

That's why I came so far to see her.

Are you two alright? Getting tired?

We're fine.

I can see the hut.

Your eyes are lighting up.

You're right, it's the hut.

It's been six hours since they started.

They are finally at their destination for the day.

We did it.

We did it.

Ready.

It's so delicious and crunchy.

I think so too.

Let's dig in.

Bon appetit, or cheers?

Cheers.

Delicious.

Really warms you up.

The mushrooms are perfect here.

I've already forgotten all the hardships we went through.

Thanks to this food.

Agreed.

I've forgotten how hard the climb was.

The meat, sausages, and udon noodles cleared up my head.

All gone.

I feel great.

I really want my clients to enjoy themselves.

I love hearing them say how much fun they had, or how glad they are to be here.

That's what brings me joy.

Miki lives in Akita Prefecture.

She guides more than 1,000 people a year.

So in peak season, she goes to the mountains almost every day.

Her children have left the nest, and she lives with her husband Hiroto.

In winter, when she can't go hiking, she keeps saying how much she wants to.

It's non-stop.

I can't believe how much she loves the mountains.

As soon as she's back, she's getting ready for the next hike.

That's all she thinks about when she's home.

She stays pretty busy.

She does it because she enjoys it.

Before you know it, she's off on her next hike.

Miki used to work in tourism.

Then a series of events led her to her current way of life.

This is when she was hospitalized.

At age 9, her daughter Chisato was hospitalized after being diagnosed with leukemia.

She was given three years to live.

She could have died at any time.

I didn't want to see or talk to anyone.

I was filled with resentment and cynicism.

I was an unpleasant person and just stayed holed up.

Right around that time, a childhood friend took her on a hike to local mountain.

I told her there was no way I could do it. I couldn't hike.

But it was so wonderful to be in a primeval beech forest.

I realized that it was the kind of place that could calm my heart.

I considered committing suicide if my daughter died.

I was full of dark, negative thoughts.

But while I was hiking, those thoughts just disappeared from my mind.

Miki took her daughter hiking once she got better.

My daughter did her best to make it up there.

At the summit, we made a pledge to people battling disease.

We waved our hands and shouted,

"All of you can stand here when you recover."

She had a big smile on her face while she was shouting.

I realized that mountains can make people smile.

That's what inspired me to become a guide.

I'm so glad it's not raining.

We're so lucky. It's beautiful.

Ever since becoming a guide, she has taken more than 10,000 people hiking.

But, sometimes, she goes climbing with a friend.

I seldom let my guard down,
but I can when it's just the two of us.

That's true.

It's magnificent.

Now she can open up about her concerns for her daughter.

Show me how excited you are.

Thank you, dear sun.

I am human after all.

I tend to feel blue, I cry,

I go through hard times.

But now I have friends that I've met through hiking.

I can reach out to them and ask them for support.

I'm a different person than I was before I started hiking.

Miki and her daughter Chisato are at the hospital for a check-up.

Chisato is in her mid-twenties and the mother of two children.

She is at the same pediatrician's office where she used to get treated for leukemia.

I'm seeing a pediatrician at my age.

That's true.

Your white blood cells, red blood cells and platelets are all fine.

Nothing unusual.

Cancer drugs are sometimes said to be related to fertility problems,

so I'm glad it worked out for you.

Two kids.

Thank you for making her so healthy.

It has been 16 years since Chisato was diagnosed with leukemia.

It's a miracle we can smile now.

I'm grateful that we can smile in good health.

There are so many who can't.

I hope to be able to make it up to them in some way.

Looking forward to today.

You can step there.

Miki has recently started inviting a friend on her hikes.

Awesome.

Michiko is really into hiking now.

She's even started training for it.

I work out.

Her name is Uemura Michiko.

I'll join you after I take a photo.

Did you get a good shot?

I think so.

You took a nice photo?

Michiko's husband Naoto had passed away the previous year.

Naoto was her source of joy and support when things got difficult.

He was the one who introduced Miki to Michiko.

He always made me feel at ease.

I felt showered with love.

Without him, I felt uneasy and so sad.

After he passed, I became reclusive and rarely talked to anyone.

Six months after Naoto's death, she began receiving invitations to go hiking from Miki.

"Good morning, Michiko. I'm not sure if you can make it, but you're welcome to join me."

"Michiko. Please come if you can make it."

"I'm sure you can do it. We'll go slowly."

At first, I felt I could just ignore the messages, and not go.

But Miki persisted, so I decided to join her.

I guessed she wasn't eating much, so I used to take food for her.

Michiko seemed sad, but she told me she couldn't cry.

I wanted hiking to give her one small reason to be happy.

This is Michiko's second hike with Miki since her husband passed.

Look, so many of them.

No way. This is amazing.

I've never seen so many of them at once.

The name "ginryoso" uses the characters for silver, dragon, and grass.

Doesn't it look like a silver dragon?

If you pull it up, it looks like an eyeball.

This one looks like an eyeball wearing colored contacts.

I want to take a photo.

Look, look, look.

What pretty flowers!

- What are they?
- Shokiran orchids.

Take a look.

So adorable.

Michiko, take a photo with your phone.

Let's try taking one without the hands, like this.

Nice.

I'll press it.

Thank you.

Miki takes them to a special tree.

Amazing.

I've nicknamed this the Mikitty Tree.

This giant beech is over 200 years old.

Small branches are growing densely around the trunk.

It looks like a mother cradling her child.

It reminds me of my children. They're adults now.

But I used to hold them like this, especially my sick daughter.

I was always cradling her back then.

It was my way of making her feel safe and protected.

That's why this tree reminds me of myself.

It tells me I need to be strong. I shouldn't waver.

I want to be a presence just like this tree.

This tree embodies my ideal, the qualities that I admire.

It's so impressive.

Miki really is like that tree. It shows a motherly love.

It represents the enormous well of love that Miki has.

We've all felt it without even realizing.

Going on these hikes, I feel better thanks to the power of nature.

And it's important who you share that experience with.

The people I went with were so kind and warm.

Those qualities have given me joy.

I'm so glad that Miki has helped me create new bonds.

I owe her so much.

Thank you.

I feel the same way about you.

Laughter and tears.

Miki's hiking excursions connect hearts.

This couple is visiting from a distant prefecture.

They are celebrating the wife’s birthday.

Take a look.

- It's nice.
- Very nice, blue sky.

See?

Lovely photo.

Oh, it's Michiko.

She's my friend.

Michiko was out hiking on her own on this day.

This is the best time of my life.

Stop, you'll make me cry.

I've met so many people through Miki.

I'm enjoying my life now.

I'm tearing up.

Ten years from now, or possibly even twenty,

I want to keep hiking with people.

It would make me incredibly happy.

Amazing, isn't it?