The Battle of Mount Fuji: Victory was ours, but heavy casualties were suffered. Yuko and I set out from Shinjuku on the Keio bus at 5pm on our way to Kawaguchiko at the 5th station up Fuji San. The weather forecast had constantly been changing, so we decided to just take our chances. We set out from the 5th station at 7:30pm under a full moon with partly cloudy skies. My plan was for us to climb during the night under the full moon and reach summit 30 to 45 minutes before sunrise so we could take in the moon from there as well. The recommended time from the 5th station to the summit is a hair over 400 minutes, so I figured we could take our time since I planned for Yuko being slower than molasses & constipation. She was doing surprisingly well despite her extreme altitude fatigue, so I, being the gentleman I am, carried her backpack. We hiked through the night; Yuko, with the clothes on her back, and I, with about 60 pounds of shit on my back. The night was bright with the full moon lighting our way and the weather being miraculously cooperative. Through the night it was mostly dry with only a few sprinkles until about 2:30am when we were just leaving the Original 8th station. The rain and wind picked up at once; we were soaked and surrounded by thick clouds of moisture and sand in the darkness. We trudged on and summited at 3:30, where the weather was getting worse and worse by the minute, about an hour before sunrise. The wind was gusting at 70-80mph by my estimate and had completely covered us in a fine grain mud of volcanic rock. My friends who had climbed in the previous weeks had warned me that the crowd of people was unbearable, so initially I was caught off-guard by the lack of climbers at the summit, but quickly realized that most of them were smart enough to stay home in these conditions.
So, Yuko and I huddled next to the mountain hut, shivering in the driving rain, watching bewildered first-timers wander in the relentless darkness and focused old-pros hunker down in disappointment. The hut opened up at about 4:15 and we promptly qued up for a seat inside where we spent the next 45 minutes thawing out and missing a beautiful sunrise under thick black storm clouds. At 5am the tour groups decided enough was enough and started down; we immediately followed suit. In retrospect, the ascent was a cake walk compared the the descent. The wind grew stronger along the descending route which lead to constant falls due to the soft earth. At one point a boulder about the size of a medicine ball became dislodged beneath my feet and started rolling toward the group in front of us. I had to run downhill and stop it with my leg (Have you ever stopped a rock with your leg? An object in motion tends to stay in motion.) which hurt like hell and after I almost fell over the side, which happened plenty of times. Another time we had to stop and huddle for about 15 minutes due to the voracious wind that was whipping around us. I can remember several times when I thought that I was going to die. We finally made it back to Kawaguchiko at 8am bruised & battered and had to wait until 11 for our bus back to Shinjuku. I sprained my knee so bad on the descent that I can't really walk at the moment and am going to see a doctor. It was definitely worth going, but I don't ever want to again. My advice? Make SURE the weather is going to be clear before going.
The Summit of Fuji at sunrise
No comments:
Post a Comment