Tory 1, Mt.Fuji 0

Well it all came together pretty fast once my original plans to climb Mt.Fuji fell through as the 4 friends I had planned to go with cancelled for various reasons. I was a bit disappointed at first, and wasn't sure what to do - I certainly wasn't about to climb by myself. Thankfully, I found out that another friend (and neighbour) of mine had plans to do the climb on Sunday night (July 17th). I jumped at the opportunity asking if it would be okay for me to join her and her group; soon enough the plans were confirmed (and only a few days in advance too). We met up at a station with a few others and her friend, Nao (the organizer of the climb) who would drive us to Mt.Fuji. Our group included 1 Japanese guy, 3 Japanese girls, 1 Korean girl, 1 Taiwanese guy, and my friend Pauline from France - and of course, myself...the Canadian. All packed up and ready to go, we piled into the car at around 10pm to head to the mountain. About an hour and a half later we were driving through the forest coming up to the base of Mt.Fuji. The forest is called Aokigahara, aka. the forest of the dead; said to be haunted and stands as the second most popular location for suicides in the world (next to the Golden Gate Bridge). Although I do not believe in ghosts it certainly made for an extremely spooky drive - I started to feel as though I was in some sort of horror movie. But I digress, all discomforting thoughts were cleared as we arrived at our destination.

As I looked around at fellow climbers preparing to head up the mountain, I quickly began to feel ill equipped. Most climbers were Japanese, and looked as though they knew what they were doing. They had head lamps, ski poles/hiking sticks, proper hiking boots, and were dressed as though they were about to climb Mt.Everest - wearing heavy wind-breaking pants, thick parkas and even tuques. Meanwhile, I had a backpack filled with plenty of snacks and fluids, a couple of extra layers, and a flashlight. Though it was a little discouraging to see these Japanese hikers taking things so seriously - being a Canadian - I wasn't overly concerned. We gathered at the starting point, paused for a quick group photo and were on our way. And I must say....I had no idea what I was getting myself into.

I think the fact that Mt.Fuji is so often referred to as such a major tourist attraction is quite misleading; as it almost implies that climbing this 3, 776 meter (or 12 388 ft) volcano, Japan's highest mountain, is a fun or leisurely undertaking. ...it wasn't. My friends, I will not sugarcoat it...this climb was probably the most difficult thing I've ever done in my life.

So, without further adieu, here is my un-cut story, of the time I climbed Mt.Fujisan...

It was midnight and things started off just fine. Adrenaline was pumping through my veins. Everyone was excited and full of energy - an energy that would die down somewhere between the 6th and 7th station. The route we took started off with steps...nothing too strenuous. But this was only the beginning. The start of the trail is marked with a Torii gate (a Shinto shrine marking a sacred place where climbers can pause and ask for protection throughout their long and challenging ascent up the mountain). As we continued, the steps disappeared, replaced by big bolders that cluttered the path - it was then that the real climbing began. 15 minutes in and I was panting (though I am not sure what this says about my physical condition), Nao (who had climbed Mt.Fuji two years prior) assured us that this was only "the beginning of the beginning" he would say...and for a while I thought he was just being facetious. In the first hour of the climb, I was expecting we would get onto some nicely paved path with just a shallow incline that would wind up the mountain to lead us to the top. I don't know what I was thinking.

After the first hour or so we arrived at the 6th station, where a handful of people were sitting around for a rest. At each station there are little huts selling (expensive) bowls of ramen, and a selection of (over priced) drinks. The trail we had taken was a bit longer than the more popular route, which tends to get quite crowded; on this path we not only had the advatage of less crowds but also a clear sight of the starry night sky from any point along the way. This turned out to be an excellent choice, since we had started too late to see the sunrise from the summit. I was more than happy to see the sunrise from about 2/3 of the way up the mountain - we had an excellent view, and didn't feel rushed for the rest of the climb (Traditionally people climb Mt.Fuji at night aiming to watch the sunrise from the summit). I should add that it was a gorgeous night, and the perfect weather. Needless to say the sunrise was absolutely breathtaking. By far the most beautiful sight I have ever seen. After snapping multiple photographs of the view it was time to keep moving up.

The trail was marked with some signs along the way, directing us toward the next station. The biggest disappointment however, was learning that for each station, there was an 'original' station. So for example, after leaving station 6, we encountered a sign telling us we were about an hour away from the 'original 6th station'. And this continued throughout the entire climb. Each pseudo station, had its respective 'original' station - all I can say is...whoever posted these signs must have had a great sense of humour. Furthermore, there seemed to be the occasional time quote discrepancy, where one sign would say '50 minutes' to the next station, and the next would estimate '80 minutes' to the next station.

Well, getting to the 8th station was grueling, but the worst was yet to come. This station is a popular place to crash for most climbers. There is a hut where people can pay 5000 yen (about $50) to sleep on the floor with a bunch of fellow (exhausted) climbers. One of the girls in the group chose to do so. From this station on the climb is said to get significantly more challenging, the air gets noticably thinner (some climbers purchase a portable can of oxygen), and some will experience altitude sickness and be forced to either spend the night or descend. Two stations away from the summit (which is about 2 more hours of sheer pain) and I wasn't about to quit. However, it's by the 8th station that your body actually begins to work against you (or me anyway). Every break at a station seemed to be a real trade off, where my body was screaming at me to give it a rest, and it felt so good to sit and let my muscles relax...but then to start up again became tremendously difficult. There was no way around this. From the 8th station onward, the theory of 'mind over matter' was put to the test. My legs felt like they were filled with lead, and were resisting every single step - but my mind was eager to make it to the summit. You get the picture...it was rough. The climb was steep and painful. The terrain was mostly gravel and small rocks, and every step that took so much effort would slide back half a pace. Some parts were stacked bolders, which demanded every ounce of my energy to climb up. To be honest, I made it from the 8th to the 9th station at a snail's pace, taking plenty of breaks. I didn't mind so much, as long as I made it there. The 9th station is basically the top, where most people rest, eat, drink, purchase souvenirs. The 10th station is just a 5 minute walk from there, to make it to the summit; the highest point.

After resting a bit and taking ample pictures of the magnificent panoramic view from the 9th station, I collected myself and head up to the 10th and final station. At the 10th station there is a torii gate, where the group of us posed for pictures and stood around in amazement. I never thought I would see the day where I'd be standing on the top of a volcano, let alone, the highest peak in Japan. The crater was so cool, I was speechless as I stared down into the abyss from which lava last poured out in 1708. sweeeeet. There was some snow around the crater, and the top was a bit chilly with gusts of wind - but being a Canadian - it was no big deal.

Unfortunately, from the top, I really had no idea what I was in for on the way down. If I had to describe the descent in one word it would be 'excruciating'. If you're thinking about climbing Mt.Fuji, I would urge one to wear appropriate footwear. I made the mistake of wearing a pair of Pumas, average running shoes with a thin sole; they were demolished by the end of the climb. I won't go into too much detail about the pain, but stopping every five steps to dump gravel out of my shoes, and relieve the pressure from my toes pressing against the front of my shoes prolonged the trip down the mountain (by 45min - an hour). Please note that this was not the case for those in my group wearing proper hiking boots.
Now that I have finished whining....

Having fully recovered, and looking back on things - the climb was just an amazing experience; and quite the accomplishment! That being said, there is a well-known saying in Japan: "Anybody would be a fool not to climb Mt.Fuji once - but a fool to do so twice" but I think one will only develop a true understanding of this after their first (and likely their last) climb.