THE VIEW FROM THE TOP: CLIMBING FUJI-SAN

"He who climbs Mount Fuji is a wise man; he who climbs twice is a fool." -Japanese Proverb

Fuji-san in May

A Kiwi, an American, a Canadian and a South African set out to climb a mountain.  This sounds like the start of a bad joke, but it's actually the beginning of the tale of how I climbed Mt. Fuji.  Born of a last-minute decision to seize our final moments here and do something epic and memorable, summitting one of the most infamous symbols of Japan seemed like an adequate exercise of carpe diem.  We reasoned that we would always regret it if we didn't at least try.  And so, with lots of research but no physical training, we departed for Shizuoka prefecture, modern age pilgrims paying homage to a venerated icon.   

A LITTLE BACKGROUND

Fuji (or Fuji-san, as it's referred to in Japan) is an active volcano, its last eruption taking place in 1707.  Some scientists fear that another eruption is imminent, and that an earthquake could set off a chain reaction, culminating in an explosion and a possible national emergency.  These grim prognostications haven't deterred the thousands of visitors Fuji receives each year, however.  

A count by the Japanese government estimates that over 300,000 people climbed Fuji last year alone.  They predict that these numbers will rise exponentially this year, in response to Mt. Fuji being named a UNESCO World Heritage Site in June.  The window for safely climbing Fuji is very narrow, from July to August.  Ascending during the rainy season or colder months can be treacherous, and there have been deaths and serious accidents in the off season.  Thus, the mountain is highly congested with human traffic at the peak of summer.  Prospective hikers are warned about queues leading up the mountain, forcing people to wait.  However, local governments are concerned about other repercussions from Fuji's designation as a World Heritage Site as well.  

Although it's Fuji policy to "pack in, pack out" (whatever you bring with you onto the mountain, you take with you afterwards, including trash), many are worried that the influx of hikers will cause the mountain to become filled with trash and detritus.  There's also a concern that the trekkers will have an adverse impact on the trails, causing erosion and rock slides, as well as affecting wildlife and foliage.  To help cope, the park may ask for a 1,000 yen ($10) suggested donation to defray the costs of upkeep, etc.  Given the prominence of Fuji in Japanese cultural consciousness, its preservation is of the utmost importance. 

Fuji has long occupied a place of reverence in Japanese culture, and is the subject of countless works of art, including ukiyo-e (woodblock prints), paintings, and poetry.  Fuji is considered a holy place, and has been a destination for thousands of pilgrims for centuries.  Until about 1872, women were not allowed to set foot on Fuji, as females were excluded from sacred spots around the country.  Today there are four trails leading to the summit.  We opted for the shortest and most westward-accessible route, the Fujinomiya Trail.      

One of Hokusai's "Thirty-Six Views of Fuji." From commons.wikimedia.org.

NOW BACK TO OUR TALE

The Fujinomiya Trail is divided into sections, 1-10, with the summit being number 10.  We began at the 5th station, at 2,400 m.  For many, the point of climbing Fuji is to see the sunrise. Some choose to start from the 5th station and then sleep for a few hours at the 8th station before awakening around 1 or 2 am to start the final climb to the top.  However, we were among the dangan-tozan, or bullet climbers, people who try to make the sunrise by climbing through the night without resting.  We'd been advised that it would take approximately 6 hours for us to reach the top from the 5th station, and 3 hours to descend.  In the end, only 3 of the 4 of us made it to the summit.  One of us managed to make it up in 8.5 hours; two of us took 9.5 hours.  The descent was a whopping 5.5 hours, meaning that in total, we were on the move for almost 15 hours straight. 

Team FUJI at the 5th station.  Ah, look at the hope in those eyes!

As a dangan-tozan, your greatest enemy is not the altitude or the steepness of the trail or the crumbling terrain, or even the cold and wind.  The most difficult obstacle to overcome is fatigue.  We left the 5th station at 8 pm, meaning that the longest part of the climb, between stations 7-9, took place when we were supposed to be sleeping.  As my Kiwi companion put it: "My body is telling me I should be in my warm, comfortable bed right now."  Instead, we were toiling up a mountain in the pitch black, constantly buffeted by the rising winds, struggling to put one foot in front of the other.  I certainly fell asleep while standing up a few times, and any time we stopped to rest or catch our breaths, I'd drop off for a few minutes until it was time to move again.  

To be honest, I don't remember much about the hike up Fuji, I was so out of it.  The night was gorgeous.  The skies were perfectly clear, and the stars made an impressive, glimmering dome above us.  We saw at least one shooting star, and were mesmerized by the lights blanketing the valley below us.  You could distinguish the twist and turns of the trail from the head lamps of the various hikers, slowly wending their way up like ants up an anthill.  The effect was rather spooky; at times you felt as though you were in the throes of a zombie or science fiction film.

Our first big problem struck around station 7.5 (there are two station sevens, "old" and "new").  The vision of our South African team member started to blur, which initially we attributed to the fact that the wind was blowing tons of dirt and grit into our eyes.  However, it worsened the farther up she went, compounded by the fact that the batteries to her head lamp gave out, and she had to slowly pick her way over the rocks in the dark.  However, by the time we reached station 9.5, just a few hundred meters from the summit, she had lost sight in her left eye and couldn't go any farther, and she had to turn back.  Of all of us, she was the most brave in attempting to scale the mountain, and it was incredibly fortunate that she didn't fall or wander off the path.  But even more luckily, the damage to her eyesight wasn't permanent.  We later learned that she had become hypoxic, and that the altitude was preventing oxygen from getting to her eyes, altering her vision.  Thankfully her eyes returned to normal as she descended.

In between stations 8 and 9, I managed to do something to my right knee, that made it painful to bend.  Unfortunately, this kind of flexibility is required to move up a mountain, and is even more essential when going down again.  While I was able to manage the discomfort on the ascent, the descent was pretty grueling and painful.   

Almost to the summit.  Below you can see a huge tract of snow, and to the right, station 9.5.

And yet, despite all the odds, three of us made it to the top, at 3,776 m.  Only one of us made it up for the sunrise at 4:39 am; I and our Canadian team member followed at 5:30 am, after waiting in a queue of hikers for close to an hour.  The summit was cold and beautiful, and the view stunning. We paused for half an hour to explore, give thanks, and take some photos.  Then we took a deep breath, and started to make our way back down again, in the search of food and sleep. 

The summit.

The sunrise.

Finally made it to the summit, 3,776 m. 

Finally off the mountain almost 6 hours later, we made a hasty retreat back to civilization.  Each time I rubbed my eyes or my face in exhaustion, my fingers would come away with a fresh coating of black volcanic soil the mountain had baptized me in, and a full-body stiffness set in as soon as we stopped moving.  Days later, I still can't believe what we did.  Before I left, one of the grannies said to me, "If you can make it to the top, you will have success in the future!" As I gear up for the next chapter of my life, I can't help but hope that this is in fact a harbinger of things to come.  That with a lot of perseverance and a little team work, I'll manage to get where I want to be. 

TIPS FOR FUJI

If this narrative hasn't discouraged you from attempting to tackle Fuji, here are my recommendations based on my experience:

1. Don't be a hero.  Take constant stock of your mental and physical condition as you go up.  If you start feeling dizzy or nauseated, don't force yourself.  Take smaller steps, buy oxygen, and drink lots and lots and lots of water before, during and after.  If your vision becomes impaired or you vomit or lose your equilibrium, turn around and go back down.  The altitude sickness will only worsen as you go up, and you run the risk of doing serious damage to yourself and your health if you continue. 

On the Fujinomiya Trail, there is purportedly a first aid center at the 8th station.  However, when I asked about it, I was told that it wouldn't be open until the end of July.  Even if the center had been open, I can't speak to what sorts of services they would offer beyond bandaging things.  If you were injured to a point where you needed to get down the mountain quickly, I don't know that you would be able to be lifted off or driven down.  Moreover, if you became incapacitated somewhere above or below the 8th station, it could take a good while for help to reach you.  So, better to be safe than sorry.

2. Bring the right gear.  At the very least, this should include layers of clothing (particularly a wind and rain-resistant layer), water, and snacks.  A hat and gloves are essential as well.  The gloves are not just to keep your hands warm, but also to protect you against the rocks and ropes on the descent.  I brought a ski cap for the night, and then a baseball cap for the daytime.  If you're climbing at night, don't forget that you will probably descend in the daytime, so be sure to lather up with sunscreen on the way down- the sun will be fierce.

Head lamps are not optional, and are vastly preferable to handheld lights.  If you think that you can get by with the light from your companions' torches, you're wrong.  Be sure to bring fresh batteries, and back up batteries as well.  

Here's a comprehensive list on what you should bring when you climb Fuji.  

3. Treat yoself. If you're on a budget, don't try to take night buses to and from Tokyo; take the shinkansen (bullet train) instead.  It may be double the cost, but it was the best $200 I've ever spent.  Also, plan on visiting an onsen (or at the very least a hot shower) after you climb.  Massages help too.  Don't be shy about staying overnight, either.  You can make a reservation at one of the many mountain huts and catch a few hours of sleep before moving on.