Wednesday, July 7, 2010

Fuji


The weather forecasting in Japan is surprisingly inaccurate most of the time, so eventually we decided that we had to stop trying to pick the perfect weekend to climb Fuji, just make up our mind and go. Let's see, how did that work out for us....

Grabbed a bus out of Shinjuku at 7:30pm to Mt. Fuji 5th Station - the most popular starting point. The bus was a shuttle straight to the mountain, so all the others on board were climbers as well. Some were more prepared than others. There were four large, muscled Frenchmen in body suits and with full over sized backpacks who we later learned were intending to paraglide off the top of Fuji. Others dressed fairly modestly, though some had the foresight to be wearing waterproof clothing. As for us, we had jackets and an extra pair of clothes, and two of the three of us had umbrellas.

We knew there was rain expected, but we were not expecting five straight hours of rain. Rain here seems to come and go, and so that's kind of what we had prepared for. We obviously did not take into account that rain on the way up plus wind and cold at the top equals hypothermia. Oops.

The rain was light at first. We head out from the 5th station in the darkness, and I mean near total darkness. Just 10 minutes into the hike, though, we could see just how high up we already were, as we sensed a huge drop off off to the left of our trail. Through the clouds we could almost see thee lights of a city in the distance.

So the first 90 minutes of climbing Fuji is really not too bad. It's some very steep trails that switchback up the side of the mountain, with some stairs built into the soil with logs and such. From the little I had read before the climb, this was mostly what I was expecting. I knew it would be tougher at the top, but you hear about grandmothers and children climbing this thing, so you start thinking it's not too bad.

Well, here's some advice to those who are thinking of doing this someday: unless you are a regular long distance hiker or climber, this will probably be one of the most physically exhausting things you have ever done. It is not all steep trails and stairs. After about 90 minutes, you hit the rocks, and you are climbing. There are steel posts stuck in the ground to grab on to, but one wrong step and you can hurt yourself pretty good on the sharp rocks. Now try doing it in the dark, while it's pouring rain, and while you're holding a flashlight and/or an umbrella.

Another unexpected issue: despite there being many stations on the way up to the top, there are no overhangs to protect you from rain, and no station will let you in unless you are willing to buy time inside. As people started to give up for the night and seek shelter, many of the stations were charging 6000-7000 yen ($60-70$) for a five hour stay. The only other option is to duck into the outhouses that are attached to the the stations. Here many of us were able to take a break and get out of the rain, packing in next to urinals and toilet stalls. Many others were doing the same thing as us. We saw the French guys actually whip out a pot, a small burner, and some sausage and start cooking in the bathroom. We would do this until a manager from the station would find us and ask us nicely (sometimes not so nicely) to get out.

We were actually moving pretty quickly and were ahead of schedule when the cold and wind started to become a serious problem. Our clothes were soaked, our backpacks were soaked, and the rain was still coming down as we moved up the mountain. One of our group, Jeff, had not brought an umbrella, and was fully soaked through even more than myself and our friend Laura. Though we were still optimistic as we would prepare to leave an outhouse and head back out, it became harder and harder to keep going. At this point the cold and wind was stifling, Jeff was shaking, and I didn't think I could keep going.

At about 2:30 am we were fortunate to find the 8th station, where a man was offering an hour's stay for 1000 yen. We huddled around a weak fire, taking off clothes to try to dry them next to the heat. It wasn't working very well. After an hour, we could hear the wind howling outside, and we agreed to stay another hour. Luckily for us, our host seemed to leave us alone from then on, and we ended up staying there for about 5 hours. We met an Australian couple who's friend had continued on up the mountain with their money in his pocket. They were freaking out that they would have no money to pay and would be kicked out into the cold. Another nice guy there actually offered to loan them money if needed.


Later we moved further inside to a gas burner that was giving off much more heat. There we met more Australians, three girls on a holiday. One of them was slumped in a corner with altitude sickness, unfortunately having to throw up on occasion. Through the night we managed to get our clothes reasonably dry, and we made some other friends around the heater.

The intention had been to get up for the sunrise, but it turned out that the high clouds made seeing the sun rise impossible. We later heard from others who had made it to the top that there was nothing to see up there, very poor visibility. We ourselves had to think long and hard about whether an additional 90 minutes of climbing was worth it to reach the summit.

By morning, though, the weather had improved, and the winds had died down. As we stepped out of the station around 7am, we could see sun and blue sky. We looked up behind the building and saw the final climb. Though hesitant, we decided to give it a shot.

Finally, the whole overnight ordeal was proving to be worth it. The views as we climbed the final leg were unbelievable. A sea of clouds stretched out below us, as distant mountain peaks poked up through like islands.


As we neared the top, we started to pass under a series of torii gates, a final one before the top being flanked on both sides by statues of lions.

There were many shops at the top, though all were closed. There were many other climbers though, celebrating, gazing out at the view, or even sleeping on the ground.

As we walked around the small village at the top, we saw a final hill with a crooked torii gate at the top. This was the final summit.

As we walked up the hill, the wind became incredibly powerful, enough to knock you off your feet. I suppose this was the unshielded part of the summit where all the air coming up the mountain speeds up at it rushes over the top. Reaching the top, we braced ourselves against the torii gate and looked out behind us at an enormous, gaping volcanic crater. We quickly took some pictures and then got the hell out of there, racing back down the hill into the summit village.


The hike down was hard on the legs, but was far more pleasant than the previous night. We passed many people on their way up in the sunshine. Why did we decide to do this at night again? Actually, the pictures I have seen at sunrise look amazing, so I suppose a nighttime climb is worth a shot at a chance to see that. We just weren't so lucky.

Near the summit on the way down, amazingly, we did indeed pass what must have been a woman aged at least 80, slowly but surely walking up the hill with a cane. One foot in front of the other, she was going to get there. I truly have no idea how she handled the middle part with all the rocks. Crazy.

Exhausted, we reached to bottom about 3 hours later, boarding a bus back to civilization.

I will post pics soon - no time tonight.



No comments:

Post a Comment