DearScotty

If you’ve ever climbed Mt. Fuji (Fuji-san) or if you’ve ever looked into the climb then there’s no doubt you’ve come across the overused saying, “You’re wise to climb Fuji once and a fool to climb it twice.” A more appropriate way to phrase it might be, “You’re a fool to climb Fuji once and a spazzmatic if you try again.” Since my proverb isn’t the dominating view on Fuji, odds are people are going to keep on climbing. So I offer up my guide to the ten stages of Fuji-san.

Stages 1-5: Do not walk the first half. Take the bus, take a cab, anything but walk it. Nobody except really nutty foreigners bother with this boring part of the hike. You’ll most likely burn all your energy and never catch any great views looking up at Fuji or any views of the neighboring lakes.

Stage 5: This is where normal people start the climb. There are many different trails, but the easiest is the Kawaguchi trail. You’ll start at the Kawaguchi 5th station where you can load up on supplies like walking sticks, oxygen tanks, overpriced water, and other typical Japaneses souvenir cakes. About a half hour after entering the trail you might start to assume the hike is going to be easy, that is until you reach another point at the base of a steep red hill that seems to say, that this is the official start of the climb. The impression that the climb might actually be never ending starts to seep its way into your subconscious.

Stage 6: If you’re with a fairly lazy group who loves taking breaks, then don’t expect to get here in under an hour and a half. The one positive thing about Stage 6 is that you never knew you reached it until after reaching Stage 7. Each stage usually has a bathroom (which you donate in order to use), and possibly a hut where you can eat and sleep. Stage 6 must have just been a sign that was blown away by the high winds. Still, nothing to see really. You won’t be able to see the summit yet.

Stage 7: After zigzagging your way up slippery rock and scaling some small inclines for two hours you reach Stage 7. Use the potty, you won’t see one again for a few hours. By now, the air is becoming thinner and cooler, and the clouds are whirling past you in a race to the top. Here’s your chance to start layering up your clothes in preparation for the near 0 degree weather at the top. Say goodbye to your ambition as you make your way up and leave this stage behind. You are about to reach one of the most difficult parts of the climb. It took my group of lazy American teachers (Theresa, Ociokeh, Daryl, and me) three extraordinarily tough hours to reach stage 8. We made the climb at night so be sure to have flashlights. Some of us had the head lamps which worked great since they freed up our hands. Nice gloves also came in handy since we had to use our hands to climb the steep trail. You’ll be wishing for the slippery red rocks as you climb straight up the jagged stones.

Stage 7a: What the hell is this? After working your ass off to get to the next stage where you can crash for a few hours before heading back up for the sunrise, you come across this plateau of letdown. “You mean this isn’t stage 8??” Take a good break here, then trudge on.

Stage 7b: You see the lights of the hut above you which inspires you to climb on in the darkness with just a spot light leading your way. And you reach this shithole, literally just a bathroom. You start to wonder if the eighth stage exists and if you might have been better off going to Tokyo Disney instead.

Stage 7bII: Now they’re just testing your resolve. Now the lights you see above which appear to be another hour trek north must be stage 8. The people you’ll invariably run into will also confirm this for you but all with different ETAs. Some douchey Dane will tell you it’s a half hour away, while more paranoid Portuguese will claim it’s another two hours. Believe no one. You’ll be glad to know that one of the steepest climbs is over but now you’re facing very slippery rocks and more zigzagging that seems to go on forever as the scenery never changes.

Stage 8: You’ve made it, the Fuji-san Hotel! Get some ramen and get some sleep! You’ll be sleeping in a room filled with snoring travelers so you should probably bring some ear plugs to drown them out, and also to drown out the annoying bells from the souvenir walking sticks people (like me) bought at Stage 5. I was courteous enough to take my bells off. You’ll be escorted to your futon where you have to silently get into bed. Be sure to try and hold in your screams from the realization that you’ve been placed on wet sandy futons. There are people sleeping…. shhhhh. Make sure you request to be woken up so you can start you climb around 2:30 am to the summit in order to catch the sunrise. This gave my group just over two hours to sleep. We left stage 5 at 5:30 pm, and arrived at Stage 8 at 12:30am. We were slower than average so it should take an average group five to six hours.

Stage 9: This is just another plateau to rest. Take some photos of the shrine and trudge on. You’ve climbed for another hour in the freezing cold. You’ve got at least another hour to go. Get moving!

The Summit: It took us three hours to finally reach the top from stage 8. You would’ve thought the experience would be so gratifying but the pain in your legs and lack of sleep suppress any joy you should be having. Really good spirited and well rested people will be ecstatic. I didn’t start to cheer up until the sun started to peak above the clouds.

The Descent: So you made it! Maybe it wasn’t so bad after all! Now you just have to cruise on down. That should be a piece of cake. Wrong! (Well, for me anyways) You won’t have to climb down the same steep trail which makes this much safer but you won’t have the different types of path, just red lava rock zigzagging down eternally. You’ll feel like you’re on a treadmill that you can’t jump off. After descending for an hour, you look down the slopes to see signs of a change, but no, just continuous zigzagging trails that go beneath the clouds. Make sure you have nice shoes, and especially broken in shoes. Some people seemed to fly down, but I couldn’t. It felt like i was walking on burning hot nails. I tried to walk down faster with the logic that I’d get the pain over sooner, but I would just hit random rocks, or land harder which exaggerated the pain even more. A slow steady pace of constant pain was the way for me. You’ll want to apply sunblock now. Theresa and I, although we bought sunblock, decided not to put any on since were were wearing jackets and pants. For some reason we forgot about or faces and now we’re both burned to a crisp. Those five hours were the most painfully hours of my entire life. I wasn’t tired or exhausted just in enormous pain. Again, have nice shoes with lots of ankle support.

Final Thoughts: I suppose the reason people say you should climb Fuji once is because of the amazing views it has to offer. It’s something people should see at least once. You’ll get this view from a plane but you’re moving to quickly to absorb it plus, you’re staring out of a small filthy window. So, I submit this: Build cable cars. I’d pay 80 bucks for a nice ride to the top. Of course this won’t happen as I’m sure the Japanese want to keep the mountain as natural as possible. So, you’re stuck having to ponder suicide as you make your own way to the summit. Ganbatte!

misery

This entry was posted on Tuesday, September 18th, 2007 at 9:34 am and is filed under pictures!, about my day. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.