If you replace your hand with a pickpocket’s,
you can’t help pickpocketing.
After arriving in Niigata Airport, he took a train for Myoko-kogen Station at the foot of Mt. Myoko. The 2454-meter-high mountain was famous for its rich variety of birds with more than 1000 types. In fact, Niigata Prefecture had the largest variety of birds in Japan. He expected to watch such birds as house martins (Japanese: iwatsubame), gray wagtails(kisekirei), shrikes (mozu), and Japanese bush warblurs (uguisu), all of which he had never seen in other countries.
When Anderson got off the train at Myoko-kogen Station, he met Kenji Obata, a 46-year-old biology professor at Niigata University. Obata was also interested in watching birds and had met Anderson in Columbia, the country with the largest variety of birds in the world, in 2009. Obata had climbed Mt. Myoko dozens of times and knew every nook and cranny of the mountain.
They stayed at Akakura Kanko Hotel near a ropeway station. The next day they rode the gondola to get to the starting point for the climb at around nine o’clock in the morning.
An hour and a half later they reached Otani Mountain Hut. Obata said, “Do you hear the sweet chirping of that bird? That’s Japanese uguisu.”
Anderson stopped. Everything around him became quiet. He heard the uguisu in the ozone-filled clean air. He looked at the direction of the chirping and found the tiny light green bird.
“Look, there it is!” he whispered.
He took out a camera from his backpack and took a picture.
“Great!” he exclaimed.
The weather forecast had anticipated cloudy skies in the afternoon. They had planned to climb to the top of the mountain enjoying the birds on their way and come down to the hotel around three o’clock.
While they were eating lunch at Tengudo, Obata said, “Early morning is the best for bird watching. Just a week ago, around five o’clock in the morning, guess what, I found a new house martin species. I am planning to report about it in the Japan Ornithological Congress in October.”
“Oh, that’s great. Please send me a copy.”
“Of course.”
They reached the top of the mountain around 1: 30. They enjoyed the scenery looking at Mt. Kurohime and Mt. Hiuchi whose tops were above the clouds.
At two o’clock they began to descend and reached a rocky area called Kusari-ba at 2000 meters. They climbed down it by grabbing a chain rope step by step. When they successfully came down Kusari-ba and were walking down the steep narrow road, rocks from landslide suddenly rolled down from above and hit Obata, who was walking ahead of Anderson. His right leg was broken and bleeding. Some more rocks again fell blocking the road to the hotel.
Anderson immediately walked to Obata and said, “Do you have something to tie your leg with?”
“Yes. I have a cloth rope in my backpack,” Obata said in a calm voice. “Please take it out and tie my thigh tightly.”
Anderson opened the backpack and tied his thigh tightly. They both knew it was impossible for Anderson to carry him down the mountain. Obata suggested that Anderson should go down the mountain alone and ask for rescue.
“Jim, the road has been blocked,” Obata said. “I will draw a detour map. Just follow the detour and you will reach Tengu-do in an hour. You don’t have to hurry. I can stand the pain. The bleeding has stopped.”
He drew a map showing the detour and their location.
“OK. I’ll get help as quick as I can,” Anderson said assuredly and left him.
First he had to walk along the ascending road to a fork point for twenty minutes. When he reached the fork, the sky suddenly became dark and it began to rain. The road became muddy and slippery. The thunder rolled and the wind began to blow. Anderson was drenched to the skin. He stumbled and fell five or six times.
Ten minutes later, he came to another fork. He took out the map and opened it. Alas, the paper was wet and the drawing had become obscured because of the rain. He tried to discern it desperately, but he could not. He remembered what Obata said, “When you come to another fork, take the left one.”
“I’m sure he told me to take the LEFT one,” he said to himself, and he wen left, but it was wrong.
In five minutes he lost his way. He tried to return to the fork, but could not. It was raining hard. The merciless lightning did not light his way. Now he was walking in tall bushes. He was exhausted and worried. He felt like he was walking in circles.
It was a quarter to four. He thought he had to rescue Obata before sunset. He remembered his high school teacher’s words: “When you are lost in the mountains, don’t descend, but ascend.” Desperately he began to climb the mountain.
He was crawling on his hands and knees along a steep stream. They were bleeding. Suddenly he remembered the beautiful green parrot he saw in a New Zealand forest.
Around four o’clock the rain stopped. The clouds disappeared. He came across an open space, where he took a rest. He saw the mountains and valleys in the mist.
Suddenly someone inside him said to him, “I know this place. Look at the hill on your left. That’s Okachi Hill. There should be a gentle sloping road leading to the hill around here. Yes, I remember. Walk for a few minutes to your left, and you will find the way to the hill.”
Confused, Anderson followed the voice. In five minutes, he came across a narrow road. The voice said, “Good. Walk down along this road, and you will reach the top of the hill.”
Anderson thought his brain had been replaced by a professional mountain climber’s.
After several descents and ascents, he finally reached the top of Okachi Hill. When he looked down from the top, he saw Otani Mountain Hut.
“The road down to the hut is on your right,” the voice said. Twenty minutes later he reached the hut and asked for help.
Half a year later back in Portland, Anderson happened to read a newspaper article about a second generation Japanese-American who was killed in a traffic accident in Washington State on March 15, 2010. He had graduated from Niigata University. He belonged to the mountain climbing club at the university.
Anderson remembered that he had his heart-transplant on the same day and that the surgeon had said that his new heart was brought from Washington State. 
