In [checks the time] less than 2 hours, I’d be hitting the road to chase an elusive summer. Down south, this time, under the guise of a business trip, but really squeezing in as much pleasure side trip as we can. ‘Cuz that’s just how we roll. But! Before that, let me just wrap up my Mt. Fuji experience, which I shared about in my several most recent posts.
For your reference, let me link you to my other Mt. Fuji-related posts.
The actual climb via Yoshida Trail
Spending the night at the 8th Station Tomoekan
…and now that we got that out of the way, let’s get on it!
I was still able to get some shut-eye, though not what you’d call a decent amount. It was warm, dry and comfortable inside the huts, and we were snug inside our sleeping bags. But there was still some of that chill seeping in from somewhere.
And our bunkmates were quiet sleepers, so there were none of the snoring problems you’d often encounter when sleeping in large groups.
But countless times through the night I felt myself stir awake, reach for my phone beside my head, look at the time, and feel frustrated at how slow it seemed to be moving. “Still 11pm?” “Oh wow, I thought it’s been two hours but it’s still 11:30!” “Man, why is it still 12:10? Is my phone’s clock working right?” “Gawd it’s still 12:35 kill me now”.
Until, finally, it was 1:20 and we got up, making as little noise as possible. We can also feel and hear others getting up in the other bunks and rooms.
2:00 AM
2 in the morning, with the temperature at almost 3 degrees, we stepped out in front of the Tomoekan and joined the other climbers assembling for the assault to the summit.
Other hikers from the other huts below us were also trudging up. When I think about the distance from our 8th station hut to the 6th station ones, I figured they’d probably have had to wake up around 12 midnight and started walking a little past 1 in the morning.
So that’s a tip for you. It would be a good idea to book a hut closer to the summit so you’d have less of a hike at dawn.
And so we started walking and, once we hit the trail behind the Tomoekan and looked up, this sight welcomed us.
Yes, looks like hundreds and hundreds of other climbers have already started hiking up around midnight. Look at that parade of lamps and flashlights slowly moving up the trail.
Ideally, you’d probably get to the summit quickly if you’re a seasoned climber and you have the legs and lung capacity for the climb. However, realistically, it should take you 1 hour and 30 minutes to get to the Mt. Fuji summit from the 8th Station Tomoekan. That already takes into account intervening factors such as the temperature (combined with the wind chill factor), the steep angles and challenging terrain of the trail (in the dark, by the way), and the congestion. YES, THE TRAFFIC CONGESTION ON THE TRAIL.
Twenty-five minutes later
At 2.25 AM, we arrived at the 8.5 Station – altitude: 3450masl, 900meters to the summit, estimated at 60 minutes.
The trail was narrow; it only had room for two files, so it’s a bit difficult to overtake on the trail. It’s also disrespectful, and there were several climbers who did that, but everyone was either uncaring or too tired and concentrated on their own climb experience to be bothered with others’ behavior.
All in all, however, the mood was harmonious, as everyone went on hiking in (relative) silence.
For my part, I was concentrating on staying safe and uninjured, and also focusing on my breaths. Rog and I got separated somewhere along the way with several hikers between us, but that was a non-issue as we could still catch sight of each other.
The moon was full that night (or morning), but her illumination was not enough, so we really had to rely more on our own headlamps. The early morning fog was also wreaking havoc with out lights, so it was still quite murky even with the headlamps’ beam shining right down our noses and on the path in front of us.
The trail was mostly rocks and stones, largely on the jagged sides. The boulders at some point were so huge that you’d have to stretch all your limbs to get up and over them. And I suppose that’s one other good thing about being in a “procession”; there are other climbers ready to give you a hand, or a boost, more like, when you need it.
It’s 3:10 am
And we finally arrived at the 9th Station, altitude 3,600M, and 400 meters away from the summit. From here, we still had 30 minutes to get to the summit.
Ideally.
But the “traffic” was so heavy that day, largely because it’s only a few days left of the climbing season, so there were more climbers than usual. And summer was about to end, too, so it was getting much colder.
Personally, I wasn’t bothered by the cold as much as the wind chill. When that cold wind blows at you, it feels like you’re being whipped until you’re numb.
And I have to give props to the management of the climb, because even from down there, we can hear a couple of voices on megaphones patiently directing everyone to stay in their lane, either in the inner or outer line.
Oh, and they were also kindly throwing in words of encouragement, telling us we’re almost there, with lots of “ganbatte” thrown in. *grins*
And we’ve arrived
And then it was with the least amount of fanfare that, at a little after 4am, we finally arrived at the viewdeck at the summit. There were no major explosions or fireworks, but then we just hear collective sighs of relief, and muffled laughter, all of contained happiness.
There were no screaming of ‘Woohoos!” as I’d expect from other places. Instead, the time I realized that we’ve arrived was when I heard the group of Japanese climbers before us congratulating each other on a job well done.
“Omedetou” and “otsukare!”, indeed!
(And what would have been 30 minutes ran to 50 as we finally arrived at the summit.)
When we arrived at the viewdeck (which I couldn’t really make full sense of, as it was still so very dark and the wind and fog were wreaking havoc on the visibility), there were already quite a number of people there, presumably having spent the night.
They all looked frozen to death, haha (sorry, that wasn’t me laughing in amusement), all wrapped up in those silver thermal mats, and literally hugging each other and sticking close to one another to share some body heat.
Waiting for the sun
We tried to look for a spot to sit down on, and even the ground was too damp that the cold seeped through our clothes. And the wind was whipping so bad, with the mist like frost on our skin. The wind. The wind. Aaaah…. oh and did I mention the effin’ wind?!!
We tried eating the bread we packed, just to add some heat to our bodies, and it was quite difficult even getting it out of its wrapper with our fingers all frozen numb.
At 4:33, the horizon started to lighten, and it was safe to turn off our head lamps. Many of the groups started getting up and regrouping, presumably to start their descent.
Let me heave out a sigh right here: I have one regret about my entire Mt. Fuji climb experience, and that is not having hung around at the summit longer.
And so it went that way: we joined the stream of people following the trail to descent the mountain. (And I heard one of the guides say that the best view of the sunrise is not from the summit itself, but on the trail down. So yeah, I took comfort in that.)
But if you wanna, and you can, you should hang around the summit a bit longer, walk around the crater…. who knows, I might go back someday. Soon, when I still can. I hope I can.
Slowly but surely
Since we were making good time, we decided to just go about the descent leisurely.
Mind you, the trail for the descent is different; it’s not the same trail we took from the 8th Station Tomoekan. Conveniently, this is to avoid counterflow in the trail leading up to the summit, and it would have been dangerous to do so, because you’d end up clambering down rocks and boulders. Super steep ones too.
So we decided to take it slowly but surely. In every hike, I have less liking for descents. I find they are more demanding on the body – the legs, in particular. So I was not really particular on the idea of putting any more strain than necessary on my legs.
Plus, if you take it slow, you have more time to appreciate the view of the sunrise slowly unfold in front of you.
And yes, in case you’re wondering, it’s still freakishly cold.
We’re getting warmer!
4:50, and the sun started to truly show itself. Love the juxtaposition of the clouds against the gradient sky!
And as the sun was slowly coming out, some warmth started to envelope the earth, until such time that we felt safe enough to divest ourselves of our outer shells.
If the ascent involved boulders and jagged rocks, the descent posed a different challenge entirely. It’s loose soil and gravel, and when I say loose, it’s reallllly loose. I can only be thankful that it’s not as steep (although there are parts that are a bit steep when you take into account the looseness of the soil), since it winds in a zig-zag manner down the side of the mountain.
Along the way, we’ve witnessed several hikers sliding and falling flat on their behinds, and we also saw some footwear soles discarded, seemingly unable to withstand the “wear and tear” imposed by the trail.
I almost slipped several times, a couple of times I almost sat down on the ground. I was only saved by the walking stick that I clung to for dear life. Funnily enough, I never appreciated walking sticks during hikes. Until this one.
I just loved how it looked like some hikers were about to walk into the horizon, right into the sunrise. At every turn, I couldn’t help but stop and marvel at all those clouds, down below and above, and that blue horizon tinged with yellows and light oranges, and the ball of fire blazing as it rose higher on its perch in the sky.
And when you think about it, under those clouds is an entire province of Japan. The Yamanashi Prefecture. It definitely gives one perspective on how high he or she is from way up here.
If you look around at the side of the mountain, except for some dots of green, you can say that you are practically in a wasteland.
But then it is easy to forget that fact when you look out at the sea of clouds.
For the next couple of hours or so, you’d be following the downward trail with no water source or even toilets in sight, so you have to hold it in, if ya noe what I’m sayin’.
Somewhere along the way, the descending trail merges with the original Yoshida Trail, until you reach the crossroads. From there, you pretty much follow the same trail back to the Mt. Fuji Subaru 5th Station.
And we’ve come full circle!
It’s close to 9 AM when we found ourselves back where we started at noon the day before. You could say that, from the summit, it took us 5 hours. As we neared the 5th station, all exhaustion started seeping away, and I started to marvel at the experience that I just had.
I made it.
I MADE IT!
It was not the easiest time, but I loved every second of it!
The first order of business when we arrived at the 5th station was to eat. This time we treated ourselves to a full meal, stretched our legs, and later walked around to check out the shops and see any souvenirs we’re interested in.
It was also an excuse to see the clouds lift up and reveal a bit of Mt. Fuji from the station. Even as we were hanging around, we saw other climbers still arriving from the mountain. Just as we also saw more and more climbers arrive, aiming to make the climb that day.
This is definitely going to be one of my favorite memories ever. And yes, one I would not hesitate to repeat when given the chance again. I don’t know when that will be, but if and when I do, I’d make sure to hang around the crater at the peak a bit longer. (I suppose I just got an excuse to attempt to repeat the experience, huh?)
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