Wednesday, August 25, 2010

In A Race With The Sun

I’ve been to 3,776 m (12,388 ft) and back again.

Two weekends ago I reached one of my goals, climbing Mt. Fuji. I left my town and boarded a bus for Shizuoka prefecture along with around 30 Japanese ready to climb to the highest point in Japan! After about 12 hours and no sleep on a bus, picking up a few others along the way, we arrived at the Yoshida Trail Head 5th Station at around 11PM. At this elevation most of my companions thought it was freezing, I thought it was refreshing. We waited for about 40 minutes to adjust to the altitude change and slowly we made our way up the mountain.


Maki trying to sleep on the bus.

While climbing the gradual incline to the 6th station, I was happy I didn’t put on my warm clothes yet. Actually I had to take off my rain pants in order to stay cool enough without getting tired from heat. I like my weather crisp when I hike. The cold weather keeps me going, refreshed and awake. Everything was going well from the 5th station to the 6th station. I even saw a shooting star, which was amazing. At this altitude, although not even half way up the mountain, the stars seemed so close. I could almost taste them. We were lucky to be hiking on a night when a meteor shower was happening.


My climbing party

After the 7th station one of the members of our group, a girl named Mai, started falling victim to altitude sickness. The hike between the 7th and 8th station was very long and although we were taking it slow, almost too slow to my liking, by the time we arrived at the 8th station and met up with a few others, Mai was in rough shape. The path had become steep and rocky. Before arriving it looked like she could fall over at any time. I followed her closely to make sure she wouldn’t. It was decided that her and another girl Maron who wasn’t feeling well would stay at the 8th station, rest and climb down after feeling better. One man volunteered to stay behind in order to help, since he climbed Fuji before and said it was fine if he didn’t make it to the top again. This was good because when climbing a mountain, your party should usually always consist of 3 people. If one gets injured, one can go for help while the other stays with the injured person.

After everything was sorted and we piled warm clothes on Mai and Maron, we lifted the two girls into the back of a small abandoned flat bed tractor to protect them from the wind. A storm was coming. It was about 3AM, the 4 remaining members of our party continued on.


Taking a break around the 8th station.

Between the 8th and 9th station we started to lose visibility and the typhoon that was hitting Japan was bringing strong winds to the top of Fuji. The sky was getting brighter; I knew we wouldn’t make it to the summit to see the sunrise. About half way between station 8 and 9 we were climbing a steep incline in a misty fog thicker than almost anything I’ve ever seen. We were in the clouds. Another girl of our team was falling ill and was looking faint.


The first sight of dawn.

While we all lay against the volcanic rock catching our breath and regaining our strength, I take a deep breath from my O2 can. Then suddenly the clouds around us flash orange, and dim out. At first I thought it was the result of the altitude. Then it happens again, and again, and becomes brighter. It was beautiful, and I thought I may have died and was now floating in heaven. Then suddenly the mist parts a little and a beam of golden light shoots through the sky. It’s the sun! Only for a moment do I see the golden disk before I’m enveloped in clouds once again.


The sun through the clouds.

I really wanted to see the sunrise from the top of Fuji. I also wanted it to be clear. But nonetheless the sunrise was breath taking although most of my breath was gone. I have never been in the clouds when the sun has risen. All the tiny particles of water that make a cloud, light up with the color of the morning sun.

Still not done we press on to the 9th station. I try to keep the group moving. I go to the front of the line. I know Asuka isn’t feeling well, so I make sure to ask her if she is alright. She says she is fine, but I know every 20 steps forward is going to be 3 minutes waiting. I really want to make it to the top, but I also want everyone to make it with me.

We reach the 9th station and meet up with another group of 7. Our group is the only one who had to break off before this point. But that didn’t mean everyone was O.K. After a decision process that seemed to last forever, following in Japanese tradition, it was decided that Asuka would stay behind with another girl and head down. She wanted to make it to the top so badly that she had to hold back tears knowing she couldn’t go on. With only 3 members of my group remaining, we merged with the other 6 we met at station 9. One more station to go until the top!

By now visibility was about 4 feet in all directions. Half way from the 9th station to the 10th (the top) I started to feel the altitude affecting me. Much later than most of the members, but I decided to take a few deep breaths of my canned O2, which helped a little and kept me pushing forward. It was freezing. The water in the clouds clung to my orange rain coat in the form of frost. I lost one glove somewhere so only could really keep my left hand warm, the right I wrapped in the bandana I got while in India.

Somewhere around 6AM we passed through the Shinto torii gate, signifying that we made it to the summit. I got the last stamp on my wooden walking stick at a Shinto shrine that also doubled as the 10th gate of Fuji. The weather was cold, like late November, and visibility was near zero. So I couldn’t see the caldera or the vastness of land below the holy mountain. Only an hour or so to rest and it was time to head back.


The torii at the top.

Going down was much easier. Every step forward was a step towards oxygen. We took a small short-cut through the sand/ash pits. I enjoyed it, since if you ran a little you could slide most of the way. You would suffer a shoe full of sand and stone though. But this seemed easier than resisting the natural flow and stopping yourself from slipping down the mountain.


Slopes of sand into clouds.

That evening it was soaking in an onsen (hot spring) and a small party. Then sleep, sounder than the dead. Staying awake for almost 40 hours and climbing up and down a mountain during that time is definitely a test of endurance.

Overall, a great experience. Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately) one I will have to re-live, since I want to see the sun rise over the horizon while standing upon the tallest point in the land of the rising sun. I want to see the land below, out to the ocean under a clear blue sky.



会う日まで。

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