This was it. The day we had been anticipating the most. The whole purpose of our trip to the mainland.
The bus pulled out from the hotel at 3am sharp. The two and a half hour drive to Mt. Fuji was full of nervous excitement. Everyone thought they knew what to expect. After all, the tour company required that we watch a video of tourists climbing the mountain a week before we even left the island. They wanted to make sure we all understood what we were about to tackle. Looking back, there is no video that can ever prepare you for such an adventure. We purchased all the recommended gear, did the research, brought appropriate high energy snacks, lots of water, etc. No one could have been more equipped for this challenge than we were. Oh, how very naive we were.
At the base camp we purchased our “Fuji Sticks”, aka walking sticks, located the rally point in which we were to meet back at 7pm and then set out on our own. It was 6am. The first hour was terrible. I really didn’t think I would be able to make it up. Danny and the kids were fine but I was dragging. Then we made it to the first station, got our very first stamp on our Fuji Sticks, and l got my second wind. I discovered a technique that ensured I would be able to make it. The trick? I pulled my hat down so that I couldn’t see anything above me. Looking forward was too daunting. Seeing how far I had to go to get to the next station was overwhelming and very discouraging. I hiked for the next two hours with my eyes focused solely on the ground beneath me. It worked. The next leg of the hike was different however and didn’t allow me to use my new found technique. For the next two hours we were rock climbing. I didn’t see this coming. No where on the video did it show people climbing up piles of crumbling volcanic rocks. It was challenging but fun. A nice change of pace from just walking up hill. Amy almost got knocked out from falling rock at one point. Lucky for her a Japanese tour guide saw it coming and reached out to divert it with his hands. Ouch! Falling rock wasn’t Amy’s only worry. She was hurting in a big way. She finally broke into tears and said she couldn’t go any further-that this was the worst vacation ever! At this point we were too close to not finish. And so we pressed on.
The final hour and a half was hands down the worst. Put aside the fact that we are so high its hard to breathe and our heads are throbbing with pain from the thin air and that we are thoroughly exhausted from climbing up a volcano for the last five hours. Now imagine climbing the final leg of the hike and for every step you take you slide back half a step. Really, could it get much worse? Grown women were in tears all around us; giving up so close to the top. The volcanic rock had turned to sandy gravel and it was near impossible to make any progress. But finally, finally, finally we made it. Six and a half hours, twenty one stamps on our Fuji sticks, one can of oxygen and two $5 bottles of water and we had made it. Like magic our headaches went away and we felt invincible. Adrenaline is a crazy thing. There wasn’t much a view, only clouds, but that was okay it didn’t matter. We had done what each of us at one point in the day had thought was impossible.
And then we had to get down.
Thirty minuets into the decent and our heads were pounding again and we were miserable again. It only took two and a half hours to get down but it was not easy. Gravity takes over and you practically slide down the mountain. It’s brutal on your ankles and knees. And if you’re me or Amy it’s pretty hard on your bottom too since we were on it more than our feet. Even Danny’s hiney hit the dirt a few times going down. But Brian, he was the real star of the day. He made it up and down to each station much faster than the rest of us. He would get to the next station and just sit and wait on us. He probably could have made it up in four hours and down in one on his own. Maybe less.
When we finally made it to the base camp we were starving. We ate and then crashed until the rest of our tour group made it down and we could leave. It was a long drive to the hotel because it was the beginning of summer break for the Japanese and traffic was a nightmare. I can’t recall a time that I was happier for a hot shower and a warm bed than that night.
Many people have asked, 1) would you do it again and 2) if you knew then what you know now would you have still done it? To them I say…No, I would never climb Mt. Fuji again. Once is enough for me. And yes, I absolutely would have done it even if I knew how miserable it would be. The sense of accomplishment is worth every drop of sweat.
Mount Fuji = 19,055 grueling steps
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Amy (before)
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Brian (before)
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Danny (before)
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Natalie (before)
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It’s still fun
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Resting
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Rock Climbing
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Snow in July
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Speedy
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Are We There Yet?
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Birds Eye View
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They Did It!
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We Did It!
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The Final Stamp
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Suckers!
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Going Down
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Amy (after)
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Brian (after)
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Danny (after)
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Natalie (after)
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Where’s the Bus??
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Miss Amy
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I’m Done
