Kanmangafuchi Abyss: The Mystery of Nikko’s Vanishing Jizo Statues

A Hidden Side of Nikko

Most visitors come to Nikko for the magnificent shrines and temples that form its UNESCO World Heritage Site. The golden decorations of Tōshō-gū, the sacred Shinkyō Bridge and the mausoleum of Tokugawa Ieyasu understandably receive most of the attention. But only a short walk away, Nikko feels completely different. Kanmangafuchi — usually written Kanmangafuchi Abyss or Kanmangafuchi Gorge — follows the Daiya River through a wooded volcanic landscape. Instead of elaborate shrines and crowds of visitors, you find moss-covered rocks, rushing water and a mysterious line of stone statues.

And those statues have given the gorge its famous nickname.

Bake Jizō — the Ghost Jizō.

Why?

Because supposedly, they cannot be counted.

A Gorge Created by Fire

The peaceful landscape hides a violent geological past. Kanmangafuchi was shaped by volcanic activity from nearby Mount Nantai, the sacred mountain towering above the Nikko region. Lava flowing through the area helped form the dramatic rocky gorge through which the Daiya River now runs. Over centuries, the river continued to carve its way through this volcanic landscape. Today the contrast is striking. Water rushes between dark rocks while thick forest grows almost to the riverbanks. In places the noise of the river overwhelms everything else.

It is easy to understand why this landscape became associated with spirituality. Nikko itself developed as a sacred mountain centre after the Buddhist monk Shōdō Shōnin (735–817) came to the region during the eighth century. According to tradition, his journey into these mountains began the religious history that would eventually transform Nikko into one of Japan’s most important sacred sites. But Kanmangafuchi’s most famous inhabitants arrived centuries later.

The Mysterious Jizo Statues of Kanmangafuchi

Continue along the river and suddenly they appear. One after another, dozens of stone figures sit beside the path. Some are weathered almost beyond recognition. Others wear knitted caps or brilliant red bibs left by visitors. They are representations of Jizō Bosatsu, one of the most beloved figures in Japanese Buddhism. The statues here are generally known as Narabi Jizō, meaning roughly Jizō in a row. But they have acquired another, much more intriguing name:

Bake Jizō — Ghost Jizō.

Local folklore says that if you count the statues while walking in one direction and count them again on your return, you will get a different number. One of them has disappeared. Or perhaps another has appeared. Naturally, there is a simple way to test the legend.

Count them yourself.

Just don’t be too confident when you reach your final number.

Why Are There Jizo Statues Here?

The statues are closely connected with Jigen Daishi, better known as the influential Buddhist monk Tenkai (1536–1643). Tenkai played an enormously important role in the religious and political world of early Edo-period Japan. He was closely associated with the Tokugawa shogunate and helped establish the religious significance of Nikko following the death of Tokugawa Ieyasu. Traditionally, around one hundred Jizō statues were erected along the Daiya River in this area.

Not all survived. Flooding and the relentless force of the river damaged or swept away some of them over the centuries. What remains today forms the haunting procession visitors encounter beside the gorge. Their incomplete number probably helped inspire the legend that the statues somehow change whenever someone attempts to count them. History and folklore have merged — which is exactly what makes Kanmangafuchi so interesting.

Who Is Jizo?

To understand these statues, it helps to understand Jizō. Known in Sanskrit as Kṣitigarbha, Jizō is a bodhisattva — an enlightened being who postpones complete Buddhahood in order to help others. In Japan, Jizō became particularly associated with children, travellers and the souls of the dead. That is why small Jizō statues can be found all over Japan: beside roads, near temples, in cemeteries and along old pilgrimage routes.

But there is a more poignant side to his story.

In Japanese Buddhist tradition and popular folklore, Jizō became the protector of children who died before their parents. These children were associated with Sai no Kawara, a mythical riverbank separating the worlds of the living and the dead. According to later folk traditions, the children pile stones into small towers as acts of devotion. Demons destroy their work, forcing them to begin again. Then Jizō comes to protect them. This association with lost children explains why parents sometimes leave toys, stones, flowers and clothing beside Jizō statues.

It also explains one of their most recognisable features.

Why Do Jizo Statues Wear Red Bibs?

Walk almost anywhere in Japan and sooner or later you may encounter a stone Jizō wearing something surprisingly colourful.

A red hat.

A red scarf.

Or, most commonly, a red bib.

Red has long been associated in Japanese culture with protection and the power to ward off illness and misfortune. Clothing placed on Jizō can therefore be both an offering and an expression of hope, remembrance or gratitude. At Kanmangafuchi, the effect is particularly striking. The stone statues have gradually become grey and weathered. Moss covers many of their faces and bodies. Against these muted colours, their bright red bibs stand out dramatically.

Without them, the statues might simply blend into the forest. With them, the procession seems almost alive. And that makes the legend of the disappearing Jizō just a little easier to believe.

From Shinkyo Bridge to Kanmangafuchi

A good way to approach Kanmangafuchi is from one of Nikko’s most famous landmarks: Shinkyō Bridge. The vermilion bridge marks the traditional entrance to Nikko’s sacred shrine and temple district and is closely associated with the legend of Shōdō Shōnin. According to tradition, when the monk reached the raging Daiya River in 766, he was unable to cross. After he prayed for assistance, a divine figure appeared and helped create a passage across the water — in the best-known version of the story, two giant snakes formed a bridge.

The present Shinkyō is much younger, but the legend gives the crossing a special place in Nikko’s history. From here, follow the Daiya River away from the main temple crowds and the landscape gradually changes. The souvenir shops disappear. The forest closes in. The sound of traffic gives way to rushing water.

And eventually the red-clad Jizō appear.

The Perfect Counterpoint to Nikko’s Great Temples

Kanmangafuchi is not spectacular in the same way as Tōshō-gū. There are no enormous gates covered in gold leaf. No elaborately carved buildings. No grand mausoleum belonging to one of Japan’s most powerful rulers. That is precisely its appeal. This is a quieter side of Nikko’s history. The gorge combines the volcanic forces that created the landscape with centuries of Buddhist belief and a wonderfully simple piece of Japanese folklore.

Can you count the Jizō?

Perhaps you will count seventy. Perhaps seventy-one. Perhaps you will become so determined to prove the legend wrong that you turn around and start counting all over again. Either way, Kanmangafuchi has already done its job. It has made you look more closely.

Practical Information for Kanmangafuchi Abyss

Location: Kanmangafuchi lies along the Daiya River, southwest of Nikko’s main shrine and temple district.

Admission: Visiting the gorge and Jizō statues is free.

Time needed: Allow roughly 1–2 hours for a relaxed visit, depending on your starting point and how far you continue along the river.

Getting there: From the Shinkyō Bridge and temple area, Kanmangafuchi can be reached on foot. If arriving from JR Nikko or Tōbu-Nikkō Station, you can first take a bus towards the World Heritage area and continue on foot.

Best time to visit: Spring and summer bring lush greenery, while autumn transforms the surrounding forest with spectacular colours. Early morning is particularly atmospheric and usually quieter.

Because this is an outdoor riverside trail, sensible footwear is recommended, especially after rain. I would also choose daylight rather than visiting after dark: uneven paths, forest and a fast-flowing river are considerably less romantic when you cannot see where you are walking.

And there is one final thing you should remember before leaving.

Count the statues.

Then turn around and count them again.

Did you get the same number?