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How to Reach the Frozen Waterfall at Tawaramine Otaki | A Guide to the Mafujisan Area, Shizuoka

2025.02.22

"I want to see a frozen waterfall — a *hyobaku* — with my own eyes at least once." That wish took me to Tawaramine Otaki, in the Abe River valley of Shizuoka. It was my first frozen waterfall.

We started from the Mafujisan trailhead. Rather than going for the summit, this was a slightly greedy short trek aimed only at the frozen falls that sit below it. It isn't a high snow mountain, but there were several things worth knowing beforehand: sections where the path is hard to follow, a roped traverse, and the twin issues of ice underfoot and choosing your date.

Here's how to get to Tawaramine Otaki — access, parking and what the route is like — plus the things I noticed on the ground, reported honestly. I hope it helps if you're thinking of going to see a frozen waterfall between winter and early spring.

The route in brief (Tawaramine Otaki, Shizuoka — a frozen-waterfall trek)

Starting late from the Mafujisan trailhead

We started walking at 10:00 — a leisurely start by any measure — and even so, the car park was full on a weekday. Presumably a lot of people were there for the falls; it's a more popular spot than I'd assumed. With limited spaces, an early start is the way to be sure of parking.

Near the trailhead, early-spring yellow flowers had begun to open and were giving off a sweet scent, and I stopped to look. It reminded me that the Kawazu cherry in the park near my home had been slowly turning pink too. Winter ice and early-spring flowers, side by side — very much the air of this particular time of year. There's a gate at the entrance to the trail; you duck under it and you're off.

Through cedar and cypress, and the smell of freshly cut timber

Half an hour in, the path is earth and fallen leaves, barely surfaced at all. I'd assumed it would be solid cedar plantation, but at a felling site partway along, the clean smell of freshly cut cypress was rising off the timber. Seeing the cut trunks stacked neatly, I was reminded that we walk here safely because other people maintain these paths.

The air was cold and clean, and walking that stretch wrapped in the smell of the forest felt like forest therapy. It's the quiet, clear time you only get on a low mountain in winter.

For what it's worth, compared with mountains full of steps — Kintokiyama, say — my legs felt oddly light here. Climbing endless step after step is monotonous and the fatigue accumulates, whereas a natural trail where you think "where do I put this foot, don't slip" one step at a time turns out to have a good rhythm to it.

Dressing so you don't sweat — temperature control on a winter low mountain

The thing I always keep in mind on a low mountain in winter is layering that prevents the chill of your own sweat. I started out that day dressed lightly enough to feel slightly cold standing still.

That's because I used to over-dress, overheat on the climb and end up damp. Set off feeling a touch chilly and the climbing warms you into exactly the right place. Over-dress, and the sweat cools you fast the moment you stop. In winter, when standing still chills you quickly, that "start out slightly cold" adjustment really matters. I've written about the clothing side in more detail in a separate post, on winter layering for low mountains.

Over the pass, and the falls are close

Overall this is a route of steady, gentle climbing. Once you reach the pass partway along, the falls aren't far. But this is where you want to sharpen up a little.

There's a stretch where the path becomes hard to read. "This way? Or that way?" — several places where, if you're not used to it, you could go wrong. There are cairn-like piles of stones here and there, but the route is not richly signed. Bring a mapping app with GPS and check your position often. It's a relief to come out onto a clear line of footprints, but if you're coming in winter for the ice, leave yourself real margin for route-finding.

Take the roped section slowly — a place where a fall would hurt

As the falls draw closer, a roped traverse across a slope appears. Honestly, this is a spot where falling would be serious. A slip could easily mean a bad injury.

In winter the surface may be frozen, or wet and slippery. Treat the rope as an aid rather than a handrail; I went across checking each foot placement in turn. On a path whose whole point is ice, the risk of ice and slipping deserves a permanent corner of your attention.

The falls themselves

And then, Tawaramine Otaki. Enough of a sight to make you forget the walk in. The shapes a frozen waterfall makes are simply art produced by nature, and my first one took my breath away.

The one thing nagging at me was the temperature. It was unexpectedly mild that day, and the whole way in I'd been worrying that a lot of it might have melted. A frozen waterfall, by definition, only freezes completely after a sustained cold spell. A run of warm days and it changes character within hours. How much ice you get depends entirely on the temperature on the day and in the days before — timing is everything, as I learned first-hand.

Notes on doing this safely (season and kit)

For anyone going to see a frozen waterfall for the first time, here's what I'd pass on.

The elevation is low, but ice, route-finding and a roped section add up to a route you can't take casually. Plan within your limits, bring the right kit, and put safety first.

What I took away: with a frozen waterfall, timing is everything

Tawaramine Otaki is a lovely, distinctly wintry place where you can see a frozen waterfall without a great deal of commitment. It's easy in the sense that you can stop there from the Mafujisan trailhead without going for the summit, but the vague sections, the roped traverse and the ice all need proper attention.

More than anything, it comes down to when you go. Pick a day at the end of a real cold spell and your chances of a breathtaking wall of ice go up sharply. Watch the temperatures and the forecast and aim for the right day. I hope this piece of scenery, which exists only in winter, becomes a new reason for you to go walking.

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