Every map has a history, but few as interesting at this one.
A thread on one of my favorite maps in Japan's long cartographic history: 測図劔岳周辺の「三等三角網図」 (1907) 1/

At first blush, the sheet doesn't look like much. Aesthetically, it hardly arrests the eye. Colorless and mathematical, it has none of the artistic flourishes that have long animated Japan's rich cartographic traditions (see, eg, https://press.uchicago.edu/ucp/books/book/chicago/C/bo21163223.html 2/

No, the real story of this map lies in its assembly. Only when you inspect its toponyms can you appreciate its drama: Tateyama, Bessan, Tsurugidake. Behind its triangulated geometry lie the trials and tribulations that came w/ mapping the rugged Northern Japan Alps. 3/

Triangulation as a method has a fascinating history all its own. To the Meiji govt., triangulation provided new degrees of spatial precision. It standardized maps, placing them on a unified geodetic grid. It also bolstered claims to territorial control https://cross-currents.berkeley.edu/e-journal/issue-2/triangulating-chosen-maps-mapmaking-and-land-survey-colonial-korea

The triangulation surveys of Japan began in earnest in the 1880s and proceeded in fits and starts across the Meiji period, incorporating techniques and tools from British, German, and French cartographers. 5/

By the turn of the century, however, officials were still calling for a standardized set of topographic maps at the scale of 1:50,000. To create them, they tapped Shibazaki Yoshitarō and a small team of mapmakers in the the Survey Bureau of the Imperial Japanese Army 5/

The project progressed smoothly—until, that is, the Survey Bureau realized in 1906 that they could not flesh out key sections of the central uplands without ascending the craggy peak of Tsurugidake 6/

So began a months long quest to fill in missing piece of the triangulation survey—one that forced a crash course in mountaineering on Shibazaki and his team. Early efforts to survey a route up the mountain (and lug the requisite gear higher up the face) inspired only dread. 7/

Shibazaki and his team were not the only trying to unlock a route to the top of Tsurugi. The trailblazing alpinist Kojima Usui and an outfit from the freshly founded Japan Alpine Club were also vying for a shot at the summit, hoping to claim a first ascent. /8

Shibazaki, however, had a secret weapon: Uji Chōjirō, a local woodcutter who was intimately familiar with the face of the mountain. After considerable trial and error, Shibazaki and Uji eventually found a way to the summit, beating Kojima and the JAC in July 1907. 9/

Once atop Tsurugi, Shibazaki wasted no time in recording the measurements marked on the map above. Uji, meanwhile, made a discovery of his own: a weathered spear tip and priest's staff—evidence that they were not, after all, the first to ascend the peak.

These relics can today be viewed at the Tateyama Museum in Toyama. Initial assessments dated the bronze alloy to the late Nara/early Heian period, though more recent tests have called that into question. https://onehundredmountains.blogspot.com/search?q=Tsurugi 11/

Whatever the case, these relics are a powerful reminder that Japanese people have been summiting peaks for far longer than we often assume, for motivations often far different than our own. 12/

Those interested can find additional details in Nitta Jirō's novel Tsurugidake—Ten no ki, which was adapted into a film by the same name in 2009. Here's the trailer: /end