Fuji-san
The first weekend in August, I had a chance to join a group from my town to hike up Mt. Fuji. I guess this is a thing that’s been going on the past four years, organized by one of the town recreation centers. One of my neighbors told me about it this year, lucky me!
About 20 townsfolk took part in the hike, including 4-5 elementary school kids and two 2nd grade boys from one of my Junior High Schools. All the elementary school kids were my students too, so I think we all got a kick out of tackling the hike together. We caravanned out of Tokigawa Town around 4:00pm on Saturday and drove to the 5th stage on the peak of Fuji, which ended up being about a 3-hour drive. From the 5th stage, we hiked to the top during the night so we could watch the sunrise, hiked back down shortly thereafter, stopped at a hot spring for a spell, and drove home Sunday afternoon.
On the drive to Fuji, I figured I would sleep in the car, but didn’t, primarily because for some reason they put me in the passenger seat and I felt really bad that the driver wouldn’t have a chance to sleep. Plus, no one else seemed to be sleeping, including the kids (I’m so Japanese now). We arrived at Fuji around 7:30pm and at 8:30pm, we hit the trail. The trip leaders had estimated 5 hours for us to finish the hike, which was a bit of an underestimation in the end. I think because of the children, the leader set a very slow pace that everyone was to follow, so we doggedly trudged up the mountainside with a couple thousand of our closest friends.
There were an insane number of people on the trail. It was a hiker traffic jam of the likes I’ve never experienced before, ever. There were many points where we would take 2-3 steps, then have to stop and wait for the line to move again. Mt. Fuji is only open for hiking 3-months of the year – June, July and August – because the rest of the year it is covered with snow. I just read that about a quarter of a million people climb Mt. Fuji every year. It felt like all of them were on the peak with us the night we made our attempt.
The kids were like energizer rabbits during the first 3 stages of the hike (probably about 4 hours worth of hiking). The leader had to keep telling them to slow down. I was impressed, and the dubiousness I felt about their ability to do the hike waned. That is, until we hit the first Stage 8 between 12:00-1:00am (they have two 8th stages and the top is called the 9th stage….why, I have no idea…call me crazy, but calling them Stages 8, 9 and 10 works for me). When the group gathered at the first Stage 8 for a rest-break, I noticed the youngest boy was in tears. Most of the other elementary school-aged kids were looking worn-down too. We carried on to the second 8th stage, where the kids were let off the hook and corralled into a mountain hut by a few of the adults to sleep while the rest of us continued our assault on the dormant volcano.
It was around this stage in the hike that instead of the well-manicured switchbacks that dominated the trail up to this point, we were meeting longer and longer stretches of scrambling areas that took us up and over pumice rock outcroppings. Unfortunately the foot traffic was thick in this area. It didn’t help that the trail narrowed at this point also. We climbed slowly, keeping an eye on the 9th stage lights hovering over our heads in the black air, and watching the headlamps of our closest couple hundred/thousand hiking buddies bob in the dark above and below us. It was also at this point that we caught up with a couple divisions of the Japanese army (of course not called the Japanese army – maybe the Japan Defense Club or something less military sounding since they aren’t technically supposed to have an army). They were stuck in traffic just like us, which I found funny, for some reason.
We didn’t get too far out of the second Stage 8 area before light started to appear on the horizon, marking the arrival of the 4:00am-hour. Sunrise wasn’t going to wait for us to get to the top, unfortunately, but we were close enough to appreciate the heights and the view. Before we even started the hike, there had been talk that it would be cloudy on Fuji for our anticipated sunrise, so early on we mentally prepared ourselves for a daybreak letdown. In the end, luck was on our side and the sky remained clear in the (very) early morning. We chose a spot on the trail to stop and rest and take in the rising sun. Okay, it wasn’t so much of a group-mandated choice to stop as it was one of the men in our group dropping his pack and collapsing next to it in a manner that said, “Don’t even try to move me until I say so.” None of the rest of us complained. It was kind of a bummer not to be at the top, but we could see the Stage 9 buildings above us, not so far out of reach, and the people already at the top bounding around to get the best view of the sunrise. Being just out of reach of the top at sunrise was a decent enough consolation. One or two of the army divisions parked in a neat cluster on an outcropping a couple hundred yards below us. Hey, if it’s a good enough spot for the army, it’s a good enough spot for me. Oh I’m sorry, did I say army? I mean The National Camoflague Society. (Sorry. It’s too good an opening for sarcasm practice.)
Especially as we climbed higher, the traffic jams made for interesting sights. During the black hours, we formed strings of lights weaving their way across the invisible mountain face as far up and down as you could see. As the sun rose, the landscape of the entire mountain transformed. The brownish-red volcanic rocks were visible for the first time for what they were – a barren landscape. Off to the right was a field of snow none of us had known existed only an hour before. Off to the left was the path we would take down the mountain, sparsely populated compared to the crush of bodies on the “up” part of the trail. And with the sun’s light, the bobs of light lining the mountain trails in a string of pearls became multiple colored beads as the bright reds, yellows, greens, blues and oranges of jackets and hiking gear became visible on an en masse scale for the first time. It was a stunning transformation. It was the first time I was really able to properly appreciate the height and steep gradient of Fuji.
Unfortunately, the trail was at its most crowded at this point. It probably would have taken us only 15-20 minutes to reach the top from our sunrise viewpoint, but because of the traffic, it
took us over an hour to finally step foot on Stage 9. I think we finished sometime around 6:00am, after 9 hours of hiking. I was quite hungry at this point and looking forward to breakfast, but a bathroom break was foremost on my agenda. The line for the one bathroom at the stage 9 area was half-an-hour long (both men and women had to stand in the same line), which is exactly what I wanted to do with my first half-hour at the top of Mt. Fuji.
I did get a chance to walk around the top and peer into the belly of the volcano. If I’m remembering correctly, the last time Mt. Fuji blew a gasket was the early 1700’s, and the blast didn’t even go through the top; it went out the side. So the crater at the top of Mt. Fuji is very benign-looking (except for it being a massive hole). It’s all basically loose gravel, exposed rock and some snow patches. There were some great color patterns on the exposed rock though when the sun shone properly on them.
I had totally lost track of time at this point. After a bit of dinking around at the top, we started the hike back down (you have to take a different trail down than you did up). By the time we hit the downward trail, the clouds had rolled in and we couldn’t see anything beyond a couple feet from the edge of the trail. Looking up, we couldn’t even see the top of the mountain anymore. And being that it was a volcano, the majority of the peak, especially on this “backside” trail, enshrouded by cloud, was stark and bleak. Nothing to look at than the other hikers around us, trying just as hard not to stubble down the steep slope on the loose rocks, but also trying to get down as fast as possible, just like us.
About half-way down, we ran into the elementary school kids and the adults that had stayed at the hut with them, which was nice, because suddenly we were all together again for the final leg of the journey. All I remember at this point is that the journey back seemed endless. The majority of us had been up for at least 24 hours at this point, so say nothing of having just climbed 9 hours up Japan’s highest summit. But then end came, just as with all journeys. We hung out in the souvenir area for a bit again, had ice cream and tea, then loaded up into our cars and headed to a hot spring in the city near Fuji. These hot springs almost always have some sort of restaurant available, as well as resting rooms (big, open rooms with multiple low-level tables where half the occupants are enjoying tea and half the occupants are napping under and around the tables). We bathed, ate, then tried to sleep some, especially the drivers, and after a couple hours, hit the road back to Tokigawa.
I think it took us 5 hours to get back to Tokigawa, where it only took us 3 hours to get to Fuji the day before. This deserves mention because it happens every weekend and holiday in Japan. You think traffic is annoying in the States on major holidays….imagine the traffic being as bad as that every time you come back from a weekend trip. Everyone and their grandmother is coming back from somewhere on Sunday nights and the freeways are super congested, backed up for anywhere from 8-19km. But we made it. I’m really glad I had the chance to climb Fuji. It was definitely an experience. But it’s up for debate whether I’d do it again or not, especially given the opportunity to hike a different mountain instead.
About 20 townsfolk took part in the hike, including 4-5 elementary school kids and two 2nd grade boys from one of my Junior High Schools. All the elementary school kids were my students too, so I think we all got a kick out of tackling the hike together. We caravanned out of Tokigawa Town around 4:00pm on Saturday and drove to the 5th stage on the peak of Fuji, which ended up being about a 3-hour drive. From the 5th stage, we hiked to the top during the night so we could watch the sunrise, hiked back down shortly thereafter, stopped at a hot spring for a spell, and drove home Sunday afternoon.
On the drive to Fuji, I figured I would sleep in the car, but didn’t, primarily because for some reason they put me in the passenger seat and I felt really bad that the driver wouldn’t have a chance to sleep. Plus, no one else seemed to be sleeping, including the kids (I’m so Japanese now). We arrived at Fuji around 7:30pm and at 8:30pm, we hit the trail. The trip leaders had estimated 5 hours for us to finish the hike, which was a bit of an underestimation in the end. I think because of the children, the leader set a very slow pace that everyone was to follow, so we doggedly trudged up the mountainside with a couple thousand of our closest friends.
There were an insane number of people on the trail. It was a hiker traffic jam of the likes I’ve never experienced before, ever. There were many points where we would take 2-3 steps, then have to stop and wait for the line to move again. Mt. Fuji is only open for hiking 3-months of the year – June, July and August – because the rest of the year it is covered with snow. I just read that about a quarter of a million people climb Mt. Fuji every year. It felt like all of them were on the peak with us the night we made our attempt.
The kids were like energizer rabbits during the first 3 stages of the hike (probably about 4 hours worth of hiking). The leader had to keep telling them to slow down. I was impressed, and the dubiousness I felt about their ability to do the hike waned. That is, until we hit the first Stage 8 between 12:00-1:00am (they have two 8th stages and the top is called the 9th stage….why, I have no idea…call me crazy, but calling them Stages 8, 9 and 10 works for me). When the group gathered at the first Stage 8 for a rest-break, I noticed the youngest boy was in tears. Most of the other elementary school-aged kids were looking worn-down too. We carried on to the second 8th stage, where the kids were let off the hook and corralled into a mountain hut by a few of the adults to sleep while the rest of us continued our assault on the dormant volcano.
It was around this stage in the hike that instead of the well-manicured switchbacks that dominated the trail up to this point, we were meeting longer and longer stretches of scrambling areas that took us up and over pumice rock outcroppings. Unfortunately the foot traffic was thick in this area. It didn’t help that the trail narrowed at this point also. We climbed slowly, keeping an eye on the 9th stage lights hovering over our heads in the black air, and watching the headlamps of our closest couple hundred/thousand hiking buddies bob in the dark above and below us. It was also at this point that we caught up with a couple divisions of the Japanese army (of course not called the Japanese army – maybe the Japan Defense Club or something less military sounding since they aren’t technically supposed to have an army). They were stuck in traffic just like us, which I found funny, for some reason.
We didn’t get too far out of the second Stage 8 area before light started to appear on the horizon, marking the arrival of the 4:00am-hour. Sunrise wasn’t going to wait for us to get to the top, unfortunately, but we were close enough to appreciate the heights and the view. Before we even started the hike, there had been talk that it would be cloudy on Fuji for our anticipated sunrise, so early on we mentally prepared ourselves for a daybreak letdown. In the end, luck was on our side and the sky remained clear in the (very) early morning. We chose a spot on the trail to stop and rest and take in the rising sun. Okay, it wasn’t so much of a group-mandated choice to stop as it was one of the men in our group dropping his pack and collapsing next to it in a manner that said, “Don’t even try to move me until I say so.” None of the rest of us complained. It was kind of a bummer not to be at the top, but we could see the Stage 9 buildings above us, not so far out of reach, and the people already at the top bounding around to get the best view of the sunrise. Being just out of reach of the top at sunrise was a decent enough consolation. One or two of the army divisions parked in a neat cluster on an outcropping a couple hundred yards below us. Hey, if it’s a good enough spot for the army, it’s a good enough spot for me. Oh I’m sorry, did I say army? I mean The National Camoflague Society. (Sorry. It’s too good an opening for sarcasm practice.)
Especially as we climbed higher, the traffic jams made for interesting sights. During the black hours, we formed strings of lights weaving their way across the invisible mountain face as far up and down as you could see. As the sun rose, the landscape of the entire mountain transformed. The brownish-red volcanic rocks were visible for the first time for what they were – a barren landscape. Off to the right was a field of snow none of us had known existed only an hour before. Off to the left was the path we would take down the mountain, sparsely populated compared to the crush of bodies on the “up” part of the trail. And with the sun’s light, the bobs of light lining the mountain trails in a string of pearls became multiple colored beads as the bright reds, yellows, greens, blues and oranges of jackets and hiking gear became visible on an en masse scale for the first time. It was a stunning transformation. It was the first time I was really able to properly appreciate the height and steep gradient of Fuji.
Unfortunately, the trail was at its most crowded at this point. It probably would have taken us only 15-20 minutes to reach the top from our sunrise viewpoint, but because of the traffic, it
took us over an hour to finally step foot on Stage 9. I think we finished sometime around 6:00am, after 9 hours of hiking. I was quite hungry at this point and looking forward to breakfast, but a bathroom break was foremost on my agenda. The line for the one bathroom at the stage 9 area was half-an-hour long (both men and women had to stand in the same line), which is exactly what I wanted to do with my first half-hour at the top of Mt. Fuji.I did get a chance to walk around the top and peer into the belly of the volcano. If I’m remembering correctly, the last time Mt. Fuji blew a gasket was the early 1700’s, and the blast didn’t even go through the top; it went out the side. So the crater at the top of Mt. Fuji is very benign-looking (except for it being a massive hole). It’s all basically loose gravel, exposed rock and some snow patches. There were some great color patterns on the exposed rock though when the sun shone properly on them.
I had totally lost track of time at this point. After a bit of dinking around at the top, we started the hike back down (you have to take a different trail down than you did up). By the time we hit the downward trail, the clouds had rolled in and we couldn’t see anything beyond a couple feet from the edge of the trail. Looking up, we couldn’t even see the top of the mountain anymore. And being that it was a volcano, the majority of the peak, especially on this “backside” trail, enshrouded by cloud, was stark and bleak. Nothing to look at than the other hikers around us, trying just as hard not to stubble down the steep slope on the loose rocks, but also trying to get down as fast as possible, just like us.
About half-way down, we ran into the elementary school kids and the adults that had stayed at the hut with them, which was nice, because suddenly we were all together again for the final leg of the journey. All I remember at this point is that the journey back seemed endless. The majority of us had been up for at least 24 hours at this point, so say nothing of having just climbed 9 hours up Japan’s highest summit. But then end came, just as with all journeys. We hung out in the souvenir area for a bit again, had ice cream and tea, then loaded up into our cars and headed to a hot spring in the city near Fuji. These hot springs almost always have some sort of restaurant available, as well as resting rooms (big, open rooms with multiple low-level tables where half the occupants are enjoying tea and half the occupants are napping under and around the tables). We bathed, ate, then tried to sleep some, especially the drivers, and after a couple hours, hit the road back to Tokigawa.
I think it took us 5 hours to get back to Tokigawa, where it only took us 3 hours to get to Fuji the day before. This deserves mention because it happens every weekend and holiday in Japan. You think traffic is annoying in the States on major holidays….imagine the traffic being as bad as that every time you come back from a weekend trip. Everyone and their grandmother is coming back from somewhere on Sunday nights and the freeways are super congested, backed up for anywhere from 8-19km. But we made it. I’m really glad I had the chance to climb Fuji. It was definitely an experience. But it’s up for debate whether I’d do it again or not, especially given the opportunity to hike a different mountain instead.
posted by Mandy | 7:40 PM
1 Comments:
Thanks for the posts. What amazing experiences!
I'm not sure a Fuji hike will be near the top of my list after your story. It sounds memorable, but just a bit too populated for my taste. Let us know when you post more pictures.
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