September 2026 The New Yoshida Times "A Guide to Stream Trekking"

Hello everyone. This is Yoshida from milestone.

In this post, I want to share the impact of a recent mountain stream trip I took with Jerry Ukai by recording it here.
As someone who has been climbing mountains for at least 10 years, I never imagined that I would still be able to encounter such fresh and exciting surprises in the mountains after all this time.
Building on what I learned, I hope to be able to go on a solo stream camping trip in the future.

Now, I’d like to share the story of our two-day stream trip as authentically as possible.

First of all, in a stream trip, isn't "fishing" the biggest factor in enriching the experience? Three years ago, my stream mentors, Akakon and Massan, told me they were going to hike the Ito Shindo trail with Tenkara rods. I was completely captivated by the innocent char I met there, which opened the door to mountain fishing for me. This year, I started fly fishing. (Haruka followed the same path.)
As for Mr. Nishioka, he has been using a lure fishing style ever since he caught a large rainbow trout with a lure.

The photo shows the members from when we hiked the Ito Shindo. From the left: Zunko-san, myself, Massan, Emma-chan, Haruka, and Akakon.

For those who don't fish, I'll briefly explain the differences between each style:

●Tenkara
A style where you attach a line to the tip of a rod and a fly (kebabari) to the end of that line. It’s truly UL—the simplest method of fishing, originally devised by Japanese professional fishermen to catch fish in mountain streams.
Patagonia founder Yvon Chouinard was so impressed by this style that his brand has even released books and Tenkara rods on the subject.

●Fly Fishing
A style where you attach a reel to the rod, let out a long line, and cast a fly to catch fish from a distance. Originally a sport practiced by British gentlemen, it later spread to the U.S. and Japan, evolving uniquely in each country.

●Lure Fishing
A style where you attach a reel to the rod, fix a lure (an artificial bait) to the line, and reel it in while adding action to entice the fish. This also originated in Europe, said to have been invented when a rainbow trout bit a spoon that had fallen into a lake.

Our own Jerry Ukai uses the fly fishing style.
So, our trip started with Mr. Nishioka using lures and the other three of us using flies.

We first gathered at the parking lot and took a bus to the starting point.

From the bus terminal, we walked along a forest road for about an hour to reach the stream entry point.
Here, Jerry gave us a lecture on rappelling.
Since we had only done it a few times, our memories were a bit rusty, and he taught us carefully from scratch. He also emphasized, "Rappelling is a matter of life and death, so if you ever teach it to someone else, make sure you've received proper instruction first (and don't just use Jerry-san as a reference)."

From this point on, I felt, "Ah, Jerry is really trying to show us how to play in the streams properly this time."

After entering the stream, everyone cast their lines and started fishing.
The char, having been caught many times during the summer holidays, aren't easy to hook. The situation was even more difficult due to the recent lack of rain and low water levels.
Even so, the simple fact that we were all casting our lines in such magnificent scenery was enough to enrich my heart.

Then a mishap occurred. Haruka fell and broke her fly rod. So, from there on, she switched to a spare Tenkara rod. (Thank goodness she wasn't injured.)

At lunch, Jerry told us to boil water and collect large leaves, which left me wondering... but when I brought the leaves, I understood his intention. He wanted to use natural rocks and leaves as plates for the boiled somen noodles.

The fact that he brought ginger to grate into our noodle dipping sauce shows his true thoughtfulness.

I realized that we had already achieved a level of richness different from our usual fishing trips. We are usually so focused on fishing that we rarely eat anything from morning until we leave the stream, but sharing somen boiled with natural Alpine water among everyone in such an impossibly beautiful landscape was an incredible experience.

As we continued fishing our way toward our intended campsite, Mr. Nishioka got a hit. Whether it’s fishing or anything else, Mr. Nishioka's attitude toward outdoor activities is always aggressive. I think that’s exactly why he’s able to seize opportunities, whether he's running or fishing.

Anyone who has fished in a group can imagine, especially in stream fishing, that the person in the lead is far more likely to catch fish (because the more people pass, the more pressure the fish are under). Because of this, Jerry stayed toward the back, watching over us and fishing at a leisurely pace so we would have a better chance of catching something. Even so, Jerry still steadily reeled in fish.

When I tried to take a photo, he said, "I try to release them as quickly as possible without taking pictures, unless they are large ones over 30cm (a 'shaku')."
Jerry is so kind to the fish—a wonderful philosophy—but if I did that, I'd only have a record of a catch once every few years! Haha.

In the very end, Haruka also caught one with her Tenkara, which meant everyone except me had caught something.

On the way, Jerry taught me a lot of technical things, like how to perform a long cast in fly fishing, how to present the fly, and how to keep the fly floating naturally for a long time when dropped nearby. I was surprised to realize that the fly fishing I had been doing—with my short leaders and tippets (the thin line attached to the fly)—was really just a step above Tenkara... but I tried hard to repeat the casts, which I wasn't used to, with a leader and tippet twice as long as usual.

When we reached the campsite, Jerry kindly told me, "I'll set up the tarp and start dinner, so why don't you go fish, Yoshi? You haven't caught anything yet, right?"
On the contrary, this made the pressure to catch something reach its peak. Sweat!

As it started getting dark, a "rise" began in front of our camp. (A "rise" is when fish come to the surface to eat insects. Splashing occurs on the water surface, and it's a great time to catch them.) The others sent me off, telling me it was my last chance, and finally, I caught one.

Since I prided myself on being the guy in the group who usually catches a decent amount, I was shocked—and felt a bit guilty—at how much worse I had become just by lengthening my leader and tippet a little (even if I had missed four bites because the hook point was dull). Haha.

For our sleeping setup, we used a tarp and just sprawled out underneath it. Jerry had set up a beautiful tarp using agricultural polyethylene sheets and packing twine.

He used small pebbles wrapped in the edges of the tarp to serve as anchor points.

Jerry mentioned that his mentor, who taught him how to camp in the streams, was none other than Yuzo Sebata, known as the "Old Man of the Stream," considered the originator of "that" kind of stream fishing. By the way, Akakon's respected survival alpinist, Fumitaka Hattori, was also taught stream fishing by Sebata-san. I felt, in an unexpected way, the presence of the very source of the current style of mountain stream fishing in Japan. (His books are some of my favorites.)

For dinner, Jerry grilled domestic Wagyu beef, which he had brought frozen solid from home, on a Purcell Trench grill and served it over rice—the ultimate beef bowl!

Jerry doesn't drink much, but after filling our bellies with stream-style cooking, we enjoyed talking about various things, and were even treated to coffee nuts and caramel corn for dessert. The fun night continued until Haruka’s face looked like a Bunraku puppet.

The next morning, we woke up early and chatted while making breakfast under the tarp.
Our bonfire cans were put to great use morning and night.

We took a commemorative photo in front of our stream camp spot and continued fishing our way up the stream today.
Since we had to head home, we decided to push ourselves a bit, aiming to finish by noon.

As for the catch, since we started early, everyone—led by Jerry, followed by Haruka and Mr. Nishioka—kept pulling in fish.

I assumed that today, of all days, I would have no trouble, but for some reason, I got absolutely no response. I tried switching to a new hook for the same fly that had worked yesterday (even with the broken hook, I had missed four bites), but today there was no reaction at all, and my anxiety grew as noon approached.

Finally, it was past 12:00, and our time was up... Jerry led me to a weir he considered the last spot and set a fly he had tied himself onto my tippet. I cast, and although I saw a fish, I committed a heartbreaking hooking error! Unfortunately, I couldn't reel it in.

The time to leave the stream finally came. Despite everything Jerry had done for me, the sadness and shame of not catching a single fish came crashing down. There was another weir at the exit point, but due to the drought, it was only a puddle deep. Jerry asked, "Want to give it one last try?" and although I wanted to say I'd better stop since everyone was waiting, the part of me that didn't want to give up until the very end kicked in, and before I knew it, I had answered, "Can I?"

I quietly approached the weir and saw a fish in the puddle...! To avoid being spotted, I crouched down, approached, and gently cast the fly. It swam right up and took it!

Jerry, who almost never takes pictures even when we’re out together, was the first to point his smartphone camera at me at that moment.
Thinking back later, it touched my heart that he was as happy for me as if he had caught a shaku-sized fish himself.

With everyone having caught something, we finally left the stream. Mr. Nishioka, Haruka—sorry for keeping you waiting!
The two of them had been watching from afar, and as soon as I caught it, they came running down the slope. Everyone was so happy that I actually thought they might hoist me up in the air in front of that small weir. In my mind, I want to name that day "The Joy of the Mini-Weir."

Since we were a bit behind schedule (my fault), we headed home in a hurry.
On the way back, and on the bus, Jerry taught us so much—about fishing, stories of friends like Jackie-san (representative of jindaiji mountain works) who have been stream fishing and playing in the mountains for a long time, and gear.

There’s a phrase he mentioned toward the end that has really stayed with me.

"We were also taught many things by our seniors while playing in the field, so we're just passing that on to you. So, since you guys have become inhabitants of the outdoor world, I want you to pass on this kind of wisdom, learned while having fun in nature, to the next generation."

I haven't been in the outdoor industry for very long and have mostly been on the receiving end of lessons from my seniors, but I realized I want to start sharing what I've learned through my own experiences in mountaineering and trail running with beginners as much as I can.

And so, those two intense days, which will surely remain in my personal outdoor history, came to a close. I want to thank Jerry once again, but I’ve decided to interpret the best way to do that as making sure that when we go stream camping together next, my fly fishing and camping skills have improved even more. I will keep working at it every day.

With that, the stream trip presented by Jerry Ukai, experienced by our team milestone, is finished! I’d be happy if even a little bit of my excitement reached those of you reading this.

I would be greatly encouraged by any feedback, opinions, or topics you'd like me to cover, so please send me a message. See you next month, bye for now.