An Oldy but a Goody

I was thinking about my ill-fated trip to Mt Fuji in September 2005, and thought I'd dig up the email I wrote, pre-travel-blog, about the trip, and post it here for memory's sake. Along with a few pictures from that trip. So if you haven't read it- it's long- but I've been told everyone gets a good laugh from it. Enjoy.


Here I am with Sze and Will before the ascent, looking so happy and naive.

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Yes, I climbed Mt. Fuji with Sze and Will, and all we can say is what were
we thinking? It's a big, 3776 meter volcanic mountain. Stupid gaijin. We thought, yay, it will be such a great Japanese experience, watching the sunrise from the top of Mt. Fuji, a very poignant moment. We knew it would be really hard, but hey people of all ages do it, and we're young and relatively fit, we should be OK. And while the sunrise was absolutely amazing, we're still undecided (as we got back to Osaka just tonight) if it was worth the agony. Seriously, climbing Mt. Fuji feels like a slow, painful death. And we are never going again.

We started out chipper enough, after an 8 hour bus ride, we made it to the 5th station of Mt. Fuji, 2305 meters high. Before the trip I had turned into my dad, lecturing Sze on the proper clothes and layers to wear and nagging Will about not bringing enough water and forcing him to buy more. And speaking of Will, notice in the picture his hilarious hiking gear. He looks like an English professor that has somehow wandered onto a mountain. Courdoroy jacket, what was he thinking? Anyway I brought the team trail mix, had my trusty hiking boots and we were ready to go. We bought the famous Fuji pole, which you get stamped at stations on the way up, which turned out to be the best 1000 yen we'd spent in a long time. I said to my buddies, I did a marathon so it can't be worse than that. And I was reminiscing about the wonderful feeling of invincibility we had after the run, so I was looking forward to reaching the summit. Silly me, of course it's going to be harder! Plus there's no invincibility feeling.

Since we were going with a Japanese tour group, we began with some group stretches, felt like being on a field trip or gym class in elementary school. The hike began at 5:30 pm and we reached the 6th station with ease, about another 100 meters up and were still feeling perky. We knew that this was the easiest part so we were prepared for it to get harder- at least we thought we were. The good thing about going with the group was they took a lot of rest breaks along the way which were much needed.

So after another 200 or so meters of leaving the 6th station, it was starting to get dark, so the flashlights went on. The trail turned from mildly steep switchbacks to what in the dark seemed like sheer rock cliffs that we had to climb straight up. Imagine, its dark, you've got your pole in one hand, your flashlight in the other hand that is also trying to hold onto a rail, but if you do that your flashlight isn't pointing at your feet and you can't really see where you're going. At some points you're nearly scrambling up the rocks on all fours. Plus it's getting cold so you're all bundled up, but you get hot and stip layers, only then the group takes a break and you start freezing again. We were extremely lucky however to have great weather- clear sky, beautiful view of the stars, and not too much wind. I've had friends who climbed it in the rain, I don't understand how that's possible to climb those rocks when they're wet, it's enough of a struggle in good weather!

The trail continued like this for quite some time, with breaks at smaller stations to refuel. We're still feeling pretty good at this point, singing a few songs as we went. Then on our last stretch to our resting hut, we had to climb up a really steep rocky section that felt vertical for about 20 minutes. Sze took this moment to tell us that actually she's deathly afraid of heights (though climbing Mt. Fuji was her idea, strangely enough) and was on the verge of tears climbing up this section. The rest of the ascent she couldn't look up from her feet cause she didn't want to see how high it was.

So we got to our resting hut, exhausted with Sze scared out of her mind. Sze and I went into near hysterics. Sze said she didn't know whether to laugh or cry and I think we did a little of both we were so tired. Got a classic picture of Sze at this point, but she would probably kill me if I emailed it to everyone. This is where we took our "sleep" of a whole 3 hours. We were herded into a room with a row of beds on the floor and one on a bunk type thing, but it was hard futon, pillow, and futon cover, side by side like sardines. The woman next to me kept rolling over on my to my annoyance, but somehow I did manage to sleep for about an hour, and then it was up at midnight to climb the last 700 or so meters to the summit by sunrise.

This is when my hell began, as I began to feel nausesous as soon as we started climbing, we were about 3000 meters at this point. The lack of sleep and feeding off of trail mix and breakfast bars didn't help, I'm sure. My nausea started to pass, but after awhile I got really short of breath very quickly, so I kept stopping a lot and ended up towards the end of the group.

I guess this is what living at near sea level for 9 years does to you. So I was feeling pretty miserable the rest of the climb, and it was long, I thought it would never end. The last 200 meters were terrible, this time it was me who was almost in tears, as I'd take 10 steps and then be so out of breath and my heart was pounding so fast I would have to stop and rest for a minute. By this time it was just me and the guide that was taking up the rear. The sky began to lighten on the horizon, and I could see the top but I was so frustrated and was not adjusting well to the altitude at all so I knew I wasn't going to make it to the summit for the sunrise, especially since criss-crossing your way up takes quite some time. I felt like throwing a temper tantrum toddler style and just plunking down on the mountain and refusing to move, die if I must! So at less than 100 meters from the top, I just stopped and watched the sunrise from where I was, I was close enough anyway, and it was gorgeous. Then afterwards I slowly made my way to the summit, panting the whole way. There I did plop myself down to enjoy the view, and laid on the ground to recover. After sulking for a bit I finally got my breath back and Sze and I posed for pictures pretending to be re-energized.

Meanwhile, Will, the least prepared of us all, who has never been on a real hike in his life, and doesn't even go to the gym, ran happily up the last set of stairs to the summit and was feeling great. We were so bitter, it's so not fair! After he saw that I was in fact still alive he bounded off to look at the crater, while Sze and I sat and commiserated, deciding that we hate mountains and hate MT. Fuji with a passion, and are never coming back. I also decided never to climb above 3000 meters again as apparently my lungs and heart cannot handle the stress, especially when functioning on an hour of sleep after having already hiked for 4 hours before hand. Seriously, we are stupid gaijin. We then understood why when we told students we were climbing Mt. Fuji, they looked at us with an expression of horror and disbelief, and told us to be careful. Why didn't we listen, why?


So finally it was time to descend. I was so happy at first, the weather was amazing and I again marvled at our luck, most climbers see the mountains and valleys covered in clouds and don't get the great view. But after 30 minutes of leisurely strolling downhill and taking pictures, it became very tedious, as the descent is just straight switchbacks for 3/4 of the way, so you can see other hikers way, way down below you and you know you have to get down there, and the scenery doesn't change the whole time. Sze was having a hard time with her knees and her fear of heights was coming back in to play, so she did a lot of banging her stick around and cursing Fuji. She also had the misfortune of slipping and cutting her palm on a rock, so that only added to her plight. Will, predictably, despite having aching feet because of his ill-prepaired trainers (which of course caused a lecture from me, I have become my Dad!) went trotting down the mountain at a fast pace. As I'm leaving for Indonesia on Friday I didn't want to risk spraining an ankle and took my time. After the monotony of going down the volcanic rock part of the mountain, we went on a up and down route back to station 5. We were plodding along pretty slowly at this point, going on autopilot. Sadly we kept seeing these grandmas and grandpas that still looked like they had plenty of energy, and we were with a group of other 20 somethings bringing up the rear. But we figure they have plenty of free time to practice and have done it before, at least that's our excuse.

We finally got back to the bus at about 10. Then we drove to an onsen and had a shower and a soak, which felt absolutely fantastic. Then it was a long drive back to Osaka. On the bus we realized we'd been hiking from midnight to 10 am on 1 hour of sleep. And again we asked ourselves, what were we thinking? We must have been crazy to think that Fuji was a good idea. Fuji clearly kicked our butts. I now fully comprehend the Japanese saying, a wise man climbs Fuji-san once, only a fool climbs it twice. I don't know about a wise man, but anyone who does this and wants to come back for more must be out of their minds.

Yes, I was broken by Fuji. I hate you Mt. Fuji, I hate you.


the beautiful sunrise, not quite at the summit


out of breath and out of sight of my friends


This picture describes how I felt that last leg up- defeated!

Coming back down- breathing never felt so good.

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The emails I got from my sympathetic parents in reply-
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Well, I am very happy to hear that you are becoming
like me. I didn't think it would happen this early in
your life. I always said you were a smart girl.

And don't hate the mountain. The mountain did not ask
you to climb it. And it sounds like the weather was
excellent. What more could you ask.

You did just shy of a 5000 foot vertical gain. That is
significant, about the same as climbing Mt. St Helens.
But probably a little easier because of a better
trail.

Quit whining.

I am also very happy that you made it up and back down
safely. Sounds like you might have been suffering from
altitude sickness. Or maybe you just inherited the
nausea problem from me. I have had similar problems.

Get in shape and you might like it.

Love,
Daddo

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I am glad you made it.Your email was so funny.I laughed so
much I felt guilty. As a mother I should feel your
pain and at least try to give you some sympathy. Here
goes my effort-Honey you will never have to do it
again.Do you think you may have been experiencing
altitude sickness? You have you cool vacation coming
up.[I had my first Indonesia trip a few days after Fuji]
love you Hope you're not sore.

Diana Pennell