Fuji-san at 3776 meters, the tallest mountain in Japan. Fuji-san, only now a train ride away, how could I not take this opportunity to climb it. Fuji-san, a memory that will now stay with me for the rest of my life. Thank you Fuji-san.
My story goes a little something like this:
Beginning from when I had first set my eyes on this beautiful mountain, something in my heart leapt, and right then I knew I wanted to climb it. Problem was that I lived in Hokkaido at the time and so it would take a lot to get there. Problem solved when I came here to Okazaki to study Japanese (it was one of the reasons I picked Yamasa to study at).
Friday the 23rd, I had already rallied a few people into going with me. Waking up at 7am that morning with an already packed bag, train schedules, food, and my homework I set off for school. Japanese school lasted till noon, then I threw my new homework into my backpack, and met up with Alex (from Belgium), Sarah (a Hokkaido JET from England), and Brendan (a Hokkaido JET from Calgary) in the student lobby. Kevin and his group were planning on taking a later train and so we would meet with them later. Anyway, Sarah, Alex, Brendan, and I sprinted to the Okazaki train station to catch our train at 12:24. With 3 different transfers we got to Fujinomiya station at 3:50pm. It had already been a long journey and we were hungry, so we chose a bus that left at 5:05pm so that we could get some more food and the last chance to buy water (that wasn’t insanely expensive).
After returning from a grocery store meal we met with Nick, Kevin, Erika, Pilar, Simon, Tim, and Tom, who were just getting off their train and getting tickets for the 5:05pm bus. They had been partying the night before, had never climbed a mountain, didn’t really have warm clothes, and didn’t have food supplies, needless to say I was a bit worried. But we all set off on the bus to the 5th station. The reason you start at the 5th station is so that it can be a day hike. The bus took 2 hours to get to the 5th marker, and although it was filled with beautiful trees, the path was basically a highway filled with cars. Not really your romantic rustic idea of hiking. At the first station the bus stopped, and the station itself was closed, but for some reason I found a back door into it and bought a walking stick from them even though the tills had been cashed out and what not. So I was now set for the journey.
At the 5th station there was a restaurant where the other group ate and where we hung out in until they closed it around 8pm. There was a small store filled with omiyage (souvenirs) that was open till midnight. So the four of us hung out outside the store till 10pm. The other group wanted to get going at 9:30pm because they were getting too cold hanging out at the bottom. However, during that time we met a Japanese man with his son. The man had climbed the mountain 4 times before, and was taking his son for his first time. He told us that we should wait until around 10pm or later to start climbing because there is no shelter at the top to block the cold wind (and the 0C temperature). Figuring he knew what he was talking around, we waited. Already wearing a t-shirt, long underwear silk shirt, and a long sleeve shirt, I was feeling the cold and we hadn’t even begun.
10pm, the hike began. It was already dark and so I had to use my headlamp (I had just bought the other day). The first look at the path and an instant taste of fear, but my eyes were lit up with magic. The path itself looked covered in a trail of fireflies, which were other hikers and their flashlights/headlamps heading up. There was such an excitement exploding through my veins. But the first 20 minutes were brutal. I easy realized that this mountain would not be like any other that I had climbed. The path from the start (of the 5th marker) was comprised of hard jagged little volcanic rocks. The rocks were mostly small but some you really had to climb over, and when you put your hand on them they would skin your hands. This mountain is not gentle.
At the first station (20 minutes of thinking what had I thought in doing this), after a half day of school, a half day of traveling, I was ready for bed, my body did not want to be hiking up the tallest mountain in Japan while fatigued and carrying a heavy backpack. But we rested for a bit, I got my walking stick branded had some water, looked at each other with fear in our eyes, turned our lamps back on and headed off.
With complete darkness blanketing us, the only thing your mind concentrated on was that little circular lit up area in front of you that your head lamp was illuminating. One step, feeling a burning feeling in my legs, another step, my lungs feeling heavy, another step, ugh. For an hour we hiked till we reached the next station, this one was new station. It is 2, 780 meters up. At that point you are thinking, it’s okay, only 3 more stations to go, but some of us with maps had just found out that we had 5 more to go. The last station was 10, but there was a new 7th station and an old 7th station, and 8th station, a 9th station, and a 9.5th station. Ah yes, with sore muscles, thoughts of turning around and finding a nice bed to sleep in were already leaking in.
Pushing on we met up with the Japanese man and his son. He hiked with us. At the old 7th station (3,010m) we all ate a bit, drank some more water and tried to keep our spirits up. The stars were AMAZINGLY bright. It felt like we were walking into the stars. And when we turned off our headlamps and looked out there was clouds bellow us that looked like a black sea. It was beautiful. A black ocean with brilliant stars above, and little lights bellow us all in a row coming up the mountain. I felt like I was breathing in heaven.
The path to the 8th station was hard. Our feet kept sinking into the rocks, making each step that much harder, not to mention the tiny path that made you climb over giant rocks while the other side of you was a huge drop off. I was starting to feel the thin air and the altitude in my body. My lungs were heavy, my body was moving but only with a lot of mental energy. There was a group of Americans that were in the middle of the trail blocking it because their friend had wrecked his knee and they were waiting for the first aid people (at the 8th station) to bring down a stretcher for him. I can’t imagine hauling up a huge man on a stretcher while navigating and climbing the path. I was barely doing it with only my body and backpack to worry about. But after they told us help was on the way, we managed to hike around them and keep going.
At the 8th station I was dizzy, tired, dazed, and sore. This is where I put down my nalgene bottle of water and forgot it there when it was time to leave again. Sad to have lost what I had just bought. But out of all the things I could have lost, I am glad it was that. In my mind set I am glad that I remembered my camera bag and my back pack. I was that out of it.
The suggested 30 minute hike to the 9th station took about 50 minutes with breaks. I had to keep stopping because I was so dizzy. And sometimes my feet would cross each other, or I would feel like falling, and with only rock bellow me and a steep path behind me, it was a bad idea. At one of the breaks, with my head between my knees, the Japanese man gave me a few sprays from his oxygen bottle which helped to clear my head. I felt instantly better. I noticed the sky, I noticed the stars, I started to feel alive again.
At the 9th station (3, 460m), Sarah, and Alex were still behind us. And I couldn’t go any further. Not without injuring myself and perhaps others. It was cold, I was sweaty from hiking, but I found a doorway of the closed station, and I told Brendan to wake me when everyone was there and we were leaving. Then I lay down on the cement and dirt, with my bag as my pillow, and in the fetal position for warmth, I slept. 45 minutes of pure, exhausted, sleep. I didn’t notice the other hikers walking by me, I didn’t notice when Alex came and slept by my feet. I was out! When I did finally wake up, it was to a feeling of freezing. My whole body was so cold it was numb. The sweat covering my clothes had froze and was freezing my body. It was time to leave, the only way I would warm up was to keep hiking. So I put on as many layers as I had left in my bag (I was wearing a t-shirt, long underwear shirt, long sleeve shirt, a heavy hoodie sweater, a down vest, and a raincoat, a toque, and gloves).
After hiking for a bit and having feeling restored to my arms and hands, I felt more alert. My body must had taken that time to adjust to the altitude and recover a bit, and so up to the 9.5th station we pushed. Alex was also freezing from sleeping, and Sarah who didn’t sleep was now feeling dizzy and wasn’t sure she could make it any further. We took a bunch of breaks, and again the suggested 30 minute walk up took an hour. At the 9.5th station (3, 590m), Sarah was sure she couldn’t make it. But it we were 30 minutes away from the top. Eventually after resting for a bit, we got her to keep going.
The last 30 minutes to the top were brutal. The path was insanely small, with huge rocks to climb over. There were signs of encouragement though on the path, saying things like “hang on, you are almost there”. All along the way were Japanese people resting and sleeping while curled beside huge rocks for shelter. Finally we got to the top. We had reached the stars. There were people laying everyone on the ground sleeping. Everyone curled up together trying to keep warm. I ate the last bit of my bagel with peanut butter and honey, and Alex and Brendan and I waited for Sarah. After a while Brendan took off his bag and went down to look for her. This was 4am, and the sun was starting to rise.
The land was shaking off the blackness. The sunrise, from what we could see, was going to be at another part of the summit. So Alex and I hiked for another 30 minutes around the crater and found an area with only a few people. We sat on a huge volcanic rock that was sort of beside another rock providing shelter from the chilly wind. It was freezing at the top, and my battery for my camera was frozen. So it said low battery (hence not that many pictures). I was pretty sad about that, but I tried to warm it up the best I could, and managed to take a few pictures. Sitting there trying not to let the fatigue win out, waiting, waiting, finally the sun rise show began.
Sitting there on that cold rock, at the top of Mt. Fuji watching this red ball of light rise through the clouds and light up the land was an experience I will never be able to put into words. I have never felt so alive and so happy to be alive. Even with the fatigue, exhaustion, and freezing, the world was in my chest, in my lungs, around me. In that moment, I too was being lit up, being woken up, being born. It was beautiful. So grand, so simple, so pure. It was gorgeous.
Looking over, and realizing that Alex was beside me, I could see that the feeling was bursting in his chest too. We felt like we had been given our energy back, and so we started to hike around the crater. But then, after looking into the crater, we didn’t feel inspired to walk further, and so we headed back to meet the rest of our group.
Now in the sun light we were seeing Mt. Fuji for the first time, and it was amazing. The black and grey rocks in the night were now rusty red, silver, purple, orange, and people in all different colours on top of them.
Once we got back to the Fujinomiya trail head, I went to the outhouses. And while I was in line one of them started smoking and a man came out while smoke poured out of it. Not really sure what caused it or what was happening. Truly bizarre, but being that tired, I was just glad I was in another line for a different one. After that, I got my stick stamped by a monk in the small temple at the top. He used a metal stamp and a hammer. He also handed me a piece of wood saying that I had climbed Mt. Fuji, a token if you will. Alex was already sleeping and resting when I found him. Later after eating my last bagel, I found Brendan who said that Sarah was already on her way back down. It was 6am, and it already felt like noon. The sun was already getting hot. So we decided to start back down.
The hike back down was tedious, there were lots of people going down and also climbing up. Some parts of the trail could only fit one person going one way, so there were lines. The rocks were heating up and so your feet felt like fire. Your feet sunk into the rocks and so you got rocks in your shoes, it was hard. Going down I ran into a whole bunch of U.S. marines hiking up. Must have been some kind of army field trip. I felt angry. Angry that they took up the whole trail, angry that on this sacred mountain they were being arrogant about climbing up (saying things like this is nothing, we should just run in, and what not), and ignoring the lines and just pushing their way past. Granted some were nice and were waiting, saying good morning stuff like that, but most weren’t. At one point, I was waiting to get my stick stamped at the 6th marker thinking that I had missed this one at night (cause after the 6th it was too late and all the places were closed). And thinking I was Japanese they started talking about me and all my stamps I got and what not. Then Alex finally caught up to me, and that point I spoke to him in English, saying I would catch up and what not, and their faces dropped. It was pretty funny, and they tried to play it off, and be ask me how many times I climbed it and what not. I just sort of gave a quick response, cut to the front of the line, handed the lady my stick, at which point she told me that I had already got that stamp so I left. That was that. Identifying what I was feeling, laughing at that emotion and finding peace again, and keeping my eyes on the path, back down I went.
I only took a few pictures down, because the magic of the night made the trip down in the day seem dull, plus I forgot most of the time. I was definitely in another place, sort to speak. I was more worried about getting out of the sun, getting rocks out of my shoes, and what not and not about taking pictures. Ah yes, the peace in my chest was constantly being tested. But despite the few frustrated moments, I made it down with Alex right behind me. Brendan was already down and hanging out with Sarah when we got to the 5th marker. A last picture of our journey and that was that.
I felt like I had completed what I was suppose to do. All of us were smiling and full of love, and also ready for sleep. But we rested for 30 minutes, then caught the bus to the station at 11am. The funny thing was, on the way down I kept asking myself why these people were climbing up so late in the day (and it was only 8am). My whole body clock gone. Anyway, we got to the station and managed to catch a train with only having to wait 10 minutes. Finally a few transfers later, at 4pm we were all back in Okazaki. Walking back in the heat and humidity with all my stuff and then biking back to the student residence was aggravating. But I got home, showered, ate, then in bed by 6:30pm, and woke up at 8am.
Now that my tale has been told, I am off to start my day and do my homework, buy groceries, things like that.
There is a silence in my chest now that I can’t explain in words. But I will always remember this experience not as an accomplishment, not as something to be proud of, but rather a moment of really being alive. For that I am truly thankful.
Love.
My story goes a little something like this:
Beginning from when I had first set my eyes on this beautiful mountain, something in my heart leapt, and right then I knew I wanted to climb it. Problem was that I lived in Hokkaido at the time and so it would take a lot to get there. Problem solved when I came here to Okazaki to study Japanese (it was one of the reasons I picked Yamasa to study at).
Friday the 23rd, I had already rallied a few people into going with me. Waking up at 7am that morning with an already packed bag, train schedules, food, and my homework I set off for school. Japanese school lasted till noon, then I threw my new homework into my backpack, and met up with Alex (from Belgium), Sarah (a Hokkaido JET from England), and Brendan (a Hokkaido JET from Calgary) in the student lobby. Kevin and his group were planning on taking a later train and so we would meet with them later. Anyway, Sarah, Alex, Brendan, and I sprinted to the Okazaki train station to catch our train at 12:24. With 3 different transfers we got to Fujinomiya station at 3:50pm. It had already been a long journey and we were hungry, so we chose a bus that left at 5:05pm so that we could get some more food and the last chance to buy water (that wasn’t insanely expensive).
After returning from a grocery store meal we met with Nick, Kevin, Erika, Pilar, Simon, Tim, and Tom, who were just getting off their train and getting tickets for the 5:05pm bus. They had been partying the night before, had never climbed a mountain, didn’t really have warm clothes, and didn’t have food supplies, needless to say I was a bit worried. But we all set off on the bus to the 5th station. The reason you start at the 5th station is so that it can be a day hike. The bus took 2 hours to get to the 5th marker, and although it was filled with beautiful trees, the path was basically a highway filled with cars. Not really your romantic rustic idea of hiking. At the first station the bus stopped, and the station itself was closed, but for some reason I found a back door into it and bought a walking stick from them even though the tills had been cashed out and what not. So I was now set for the journey.
At the 5th station there was a restaurant where the other group ate and where we hung out in until they closed it around 8pm. There was a small store filled with omiyage (souvenirs) that was open till midnight. So the four of us hung out outside the store till 10pm. The other group wanted to get going at 9:30pm because they were getting too cold hanging out at the bottom. However, during that time we met a Japanese man with his son. The man had climbed the mountain 4 times before, and was taking his son for his first time. He told us that we should wait until around 10pm or later to start climbing because there is no shelter at the top to block the cold wind (and the 0C temperature). Figuring he knew what he was talking around, we waited. Already wearing a t-shirt, long underwear silk shirt, and a long sleeve shirt, I was feeling the cold and we hadn’t even begun.
10pm, the hike began. It was already dark and so I had to use my headlamp (I had just bought the other day). The first look at the path and an instant taste of fear, but my eyes were lit up with magic. The path itself looked covered in a trail of fireflies, which were other hikers and their flashlights/headlamps heading up. There was such an excitement exploding through my veins. But the first 20 minutes were brutal. I easy realized that this mountain would not be like any other that I had climbed. The path from the start (of the 5th marker) was comprised of hard jagged little volcanic rocks. The rocks were mostly small but some you really had to climb over, and when you put your hand on them they would skin your hands. This mountain is not gentle.
At the first station (20 minutes of thinking what had I thought in doing this), after a half day of school, a half day of traveling, I was ready for bed, my body did not want to be hiking up the tallest mountain in Japan while fatigued and carrying a heavy backpack. But we rested for a bit, I got my walking stick branded had some water, looked at each other with fear in our eyes, turned our lamps back on and headed off.
With complete darkness blanketing us, the only thing your mind concentrated on was that little circular lit up area in front of you that your head lamp was illuminating. One step, feeling a burning feeling in my legs, another step, my lungs feeling heavy, another step, ugh. For an hour we hiked till we reached the next station, this one was new station. It is 2, 780 meters up. At that point you are thinking, it’s okay, only 3 more stations to go, but some of us with maps had just found out that we had 5 more to go. The last station was 10, but there was a new 7th station and an old 7th station, and 8th station, a 9th station, and a 9.5th station. Ah yes, with sore muscles, thoughts of turning around and finding a nice bed to sleep in were already leaking in.
Pushing on we met up with the Japanese man and his son. He hiked with us. At the old 7th station (3,010m) we all ate a bit, drank some more water and tried to keep our spirits up. The stars were AMAZINGLY bright. It felt like we were walking into the stars. And when we turned off our headlamps and looked out there was clouds bellow us that looked like a black sea. It was beautiful. A black ocean with brilliant stars above, and little lights bellow us all in a row coming up the mountain. I felt like I was breathing in heaven.
The path to the 8th station was hard. Our feet kept sinking into the rocks, making each step that much harder, not to mention the tiny path that made you climb over giant rocks while the other side of you was a huge drop off. I was starting to feel the thin air and the altitude in my body. My lungs were heavy, my body was moving but only with a lot of mental energy. There was a group of Americans that were in the middle of the trail blocking it because their friend had wrecked his knee and they were waiting for the first aid people (at the 8th station) to bring down a stretcher for him. I can’t imagine hauling up a huge man on a stretcher while navigating and climbing the path. I was barely doing it with only my body and backpack to worry about. But after they told us help was on the way, we managed to hike around them and keep going.
At the 8th station I was dizzy, tired, dazed, and sore. This is where I put down my nalgene bottle of water and forgot it there when it was time to leave again. Sad to have lost what I had just bought. But out of all the things I could have lost, I am glad it was that. In my mind set I am glad that I remembered my camera bag and my back pack. I was that out of it.
The suggested 30 minute hike to the 9th station took about 50 minutes with breaks. I had to keep stopping because I was so dizzy. And sometimes my feet would cross each other, or I would feel like falling, and with only rock bellow me and a steep path behind me, it was a bad idea. At one of the breaks, with my head between my knees, the Japanese man gave me a few sprays from his oxygen bottle which helped to clear my head. I felt instantly better. I noticed the sky, I noticed the stars, I started to feel alive again.
At the 9th station (3, 460m), Sarah, and Alex were still behind us. And I couldn’t go any further. Not without injuring myself and perhaps others. It was cold, I was sweaty from hiking, but I found a doorway of the closed station, and I told Brendan to wake me when everyone was there and we were leaving. Then I lay down on the cement and dirt, with my bag as my pillow, and in the fetal position for warmth, I slept. 45 minutes of pure, exhausted, sleep. I didn’t notice the other hikers walking by me, I didn’t notice when Alex came and slept by my feet. I was out! When I did finally wake up, it was to a feeling of freezing. My whole body was so cold it was numb. The sweat covering my clothes had froze and was freezing my body. It was time to leave, the only way I would warm up was to keep hiking. So I put on as many layers as I had left in my bag (I was wearing a t-shirt, long underwear shirt, long sleeve shirt, a heavy hoodie sweater, a down vest, and a raincoat, a toque, and gloves).
After hiking for a bit and having feeling restored to my arms and hands, I felt more alert. My body must had taken that time to adjust to the altitude and recover a bit, and so up to the 9.5th station we pushed. Alex was also freezing from sleeping, and Sarah who didn’t sleep was now feeling dizzy and wasn’t sure she could make it any further. We took a bunch of breaks, and again the suggested 30 minute walk up took an hour. At the 9.5th station (3, 590m), Sarah was sure she couldn’t make it. But it we were 30 minutes away from the top. Eventually after resting for a bit, we got her to keep going.
The last 30 minutes to the top were brutal. The path was insanely small, with huge rocks to climb over. There were signs of encouragement though on the path, saying things like “hang on, you are almost there”. All along the way were Japanese people resting and sleeping while curled beside huge rocks for shelter. Finally we got to the top. We had reached the stars. There were people laying everyone on the ground sleeping. Everyone curled up together trying to keep warm. I ate the last bit of my bagel with peanut butter and honey, and Alex and Brendan and I waited for Sarah. After a while Brendan took off his bag and went down to look for her. This was 4am, and the sun was starting to rise.
The land was shaking off the blackness. The sunrise, from what we could see, was going to be at another part of the summit. So Alex and I hiked for another 30 minutes around the crater and found an area with only a few people. We sat on a huge volcanic rock that was sort of beside another rock providing shelter from the chilly wind. It was freezing at the top, and my battery for my camera was frozen. So it said low battery (hence not that many pictures). I was pretty sad about that, but I tried to warm it up the best I could, and managed to take a few pictures. Sitting there trying not to let the fatigue win out, waiting, waiting, finally the sun rise show began.
Sitting there on that cold rock, at the top of Mt. Fuji watching this red ball of light rise through the clouds and light up the land was an experience I will never be able to put into words. I have never felt so alive and so happy to be alive. Even with the fatigue, exhaustion, and freezing, the world was in my chest, in my lungs, around me. In that moment, I too was being lit up, being woken up, being born. It was beautiful. So grand, so simple, so pure. It was gorgeous.
Looking over, and realizing that Alex was beside me, I could see that the feeling was bursting in his chest too. We felt like we had been given our energy back, and so we started to hike around the crater. But then, after looking into the crater, we didn’t feel inspired to walk further, and so we headed back to meet the rest of our group.
Now in the sun light we were seeing Mt. Fuji for the first time, and it was amazing. The black and grey rocks in the night were now rusty red, silver, purple, orange, and people in all different colours on top of them.
Once we got back to the Fujinomiya trail head, I went to the outhouses. And while I was in line one of them started smoking and a man came out while smoke poured out of it. Not really sure what caused it or what was happening. Truly bizarre, but being that tired, I was just glad I was in another line for a different one. After that, I got my stick stamped by a monk in the small temple at the top. He used a metal stamp and a hammer. He also handed me a piece of wood saying that I had climbed Mt. Fuji, a token if you will. Alex was already sleeping and resting when I found him. Later after eating my last bagel, I found Brendan who said that Sarah was already on her way back down. It was 6am, and it already felt like noon. The sun was already getting hot. So we decided to start back down.
The hike back down was tedious, there were lots of people going down and also climbing up. Some parts of the trail could only fit one person going one way, so there were lines. The rocks were heating up and so your feet felt like fire. Your feet sunk into the rocks and so you got rocks in your shoes, it was hard. Going down I ran into a whole bunch of U.S. marines hiking up. Must have been some kind of army field trip. I felt angry. Angry that they took up the whole trail, angry that on this sacred mountain they were being arrogant about climbing up (saying things like this is nothing, we should just run in, and what not), and ignoring the lines and just pushing their way past. Granted some were nice and were waiting, saying good morning stuff like that, but most weren’t. At one point, I was waiting to get my stick stamped at the 6th marker thinking that I had missed this one at night (cause after the 6th it was too late and all the places were closed). And thinking I was Japanese they started talking about me and all my stamps I got and what not. Then Alex finally caught up to me, and that point I spoke to him in English, saying I would catch up and what not, and their faces dropped. It was pretty funny, and they tried to play it off, and be ask me how many times I climbed it and what not. I just sort of gave a quick response, cut to the front of the line, handed the lady my stick, at which point she told me that I had already got that stamp so I left. That was that. Identifying what I was feeling, laughing at that emotion and finding peace again, and keeping my eyes on the path, back down I went.
I only took a few pictures down, because the magic of the night made the trip down in the day seem dull, plus I forgot most of the time. I was definitely in another place, sort to speak. I was more worried about getting out of the sun, getting rocks out of my shoes, and what not and not about taking pictures. Ah yes, the peace in my chest was constantly being tested. But despite the few frustrated moments, I made it down with Alex right behind me. Brendan was already down and hanging out with Sarah when we got to the 5th marker. A last picture of our journey and that was that.
I felt like I had completed what I was suppose to do. All of us were smiling and full of love, and also ready for sleep. But we rested for 30 minutes, then caught the bus to the station at 11am. The funny thing was, on the way down I kept asking myself why these people were climbing up so late in the day (and it was only 8am). My whole body clock gone. Anyway, we got to the station and managed to catch a train with only having to wait 10 minutes. Finally a few transfers later, at 4pm we were all back in Okazaki. Walking back in the heat and humidity with all my stuff and then biking back to the student residence was aggravating. But I got home, showered, ate, then in bed by 6:30pm, and woke up at 8am.
Now that my tale has been told, I am off to start my day and do my homework, buy groceries, things like that.
There is a silence in my chest now that I can’t explain in words. But I will always remember this experience not as an accomplishment, not as something to be proud of, but rather a moment of really being alive. For that I am truly thankful.
Love.
<< Home