It’s 7 p.m. one evening in late August and a small group of hikers gathers outside the ticket gates at Musashi-Itsukaichi, the final station on the Itsukaichi Line connecting the rural suburbs of western Tokyo.
The sun went down around 30 minutes earlier, but there’s still a faint afterglow in the sky. A gentle humming of insects fills the air. There’s not much wind and the humidity is high, as is typical of summer in Japan.
Donning a dark gray polo shirt and a light backpack, Jun Nakano beckons the party toward a large map in the station to explain where they will be going tonight.