August 3, 2008

• Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door!

  (Or “The Epic Ascension of Mt. Fuji!”)

  A week has passed now since we first set out on our 2-years-in-the-making NUFS Reunion Fuji Climb. Sarven and Matt have already updated. I sincerely hope everyone doesn’t get too tired reading about the same adventure and will check out all our updates. It’s been a pretty massive deal for us.

  Climbing Mt. Fuji was put into plan 2 years ago. At the time we were at NUFS and Matt, Sarven and I really wanted to climb Fuji, from bottom to top. Most people who climb Fuji do so by taking a bus to the 5th station, about 2000 metres up, and climb from there. We didn’t want this. We wanted it all. The plan was put into motion but the university, afraid of the dangers, wouldn’t sanction a full excursion. As it happened they put forward a more standard trip; a bus to the 5th station, as per the standard climbing method in Japan. Sarv, Matt and I, disappointed, quietly agreed to sit-out this trip. As the end of our time at NUFS drew near we made it our first major goal after leaving; to reunite and climb the entire mountain 2 years later. Just this past weekend that time came. Looking back now it turned out…. very differently to what we had imagined. It certainly wasn’t the experience I had in mind but…. it was most definitely one thing, if nothing else. Epic.

  It was Friday night, 1 week ago, when the trip kicked off. Sarven and I were at Matt and Dani’s place, awaiting Calex’s return from a trip into Nagoya. We had already picked up the 5-seater station wagon we’d rented to drive there (my car being way too small!) However weather forecasts were looking bad (80% chance of rain by midday on Saturday) and we were discussing the very real possibility that we wouldn’t be able to climb Fuji at all. We got a call from Calex to say he was at a nearby station and suddenly Matt had a really stupid/brilliant idea; what if we just set off then and there, driving through the night and hopefully avoiding most of the rain during our climb? From the start we had all been riding high on the idiotic/gutsy recklessness of our “climb the whole mountain in a day” idea. Without a decent night’s sleep, on the spur of the moment, just upped the ante and we grabbed our metaphorical boards and rode that metaphorical wave. We hit the highway at just gone midnight and arrived in Fuji-shi around 4ish. After a 90% unsuccessful attempt to sleep in our parked car we set out for Sengen Shrine in Fujiyoshida, one of the traditional; starting points of the old Fuji climbing route.

  

  And so we set off, a little before 7 am, from the shrine. Calex bought himself the traditional walking stick that you can get stamped at each of the 10 stations along the climbing route (10 being the summit.) Our supplies in order and our destination set we took our first steps towards the summit of Mt. Fuji. As is typical of this time of year in Japan the sun was pretty strong and getting started was pretty much the hardest part for me, physically. I really can’t stand the heat, especially muggy, humid heat, and the knowledge that this was the start of a long, long walk didn’t help matters. Nevertheless the scenery around the lower half of Fuji is pretty beautiful. Dense forest, providing some much-needed shade. Coulda done without the insects, though…..

  

  It took us over an hour to even reach the first station. The stations are spaced apart rather randomly; sometimes a good hour’s walk between them, sometimes a mere 15 minutes! The 1st 4 stations are generally completely unmanned, and mostly derelict. We took rests at each, snacking a drinking a little before pushing onward.

  

   (The 1st Station. Don’t I look thrilled…..?)

  By lunch time we made it to the manned, more civilised 5th station. From 5th station onwards there are actually multiple numbers of each station dotted across the mountain (a fact that would cause us considerable grief later on in our journey!) We passed a few unmanned 5th stations before arriving at a small house with a few benches under a canopy outside, took in a good hour-long rest and bought some food; kare (Japanese curry) for Calex, udon (buckwheat noodles) for Matt and ramen (Chinese-style noodles) for Sarv, Dani and I.

  

  After 5th station Fuji’s landscape begins to alter dramatically. We left the forest behind to ascend across earthy, vegetation-rich turf which gradually gives way to barren, dusty volcanic rock by around 6th station. The soil is loose and ashen and the air thick with dust, making breathing even harder, especially considering the ever-increasing altitude. Up until this point we’d enjoyed a pretty quiet walk, taking things at our own pace and greeting the occasional small group of hikers we saw along the way. However, from around 6th station the mountain became incredibly crowded! To make matters worse the route up the mountain takes on a monotonous, man-made zig-zag formation which, due to the throngs of human traffic turns ascension into a tedious, 1-step-at-a-time process.
  
  

  The change in altitude was becoming evident from 6th station onwards but around 7th station our group was first struck by the dreaded kouzanbyou (altitude sickness.) Sarven was first, getting dizzy and nauseous and experiencing severe shortness of breath. The climb was becoming more extreme, also. At points it literally was “a climb,” scrabbling up sharp rocks, the path defined only by a length of rope on either side, all the while moving at a painfully slow pace due to the ever-present congestion of bodies scrabbling for the summit. The featureless terrain, the monotony of the trek, the soul-crushing feeling we were making minimal progress (having passed about 4 7th stations) and Sarv’s increasingly draining altitude sickness was making progress extremely daunting. Nevertheless we pushed on until the 3rd and final 8th station. Here we met yet another obstacle; nightfall. It was around 7 pm by this time and, this being the height of summer, we had anticipated sun-set around 9 pm (when we hoped to be at the summit to take it in.) However total darkness had descended within the space of half an hour. All the afore-mentioned factors, combined with the very real danger of risking climbing in total darkness, with Matt’s hand-charged torch our only source of light stopped us in our tracks. We decided to try and stay the night at the 8th station…. but were refused on the basis they were already full. Before climbing we had all known the risks. We had also been admittedly very hung-ho about it, sure that we could meet any challenge. But, with Sarven suffering heavily from altitude sickness, with everyone severely exhausted (having not slept in over 24 hours) and the high danger of climbing in the pitch-black we suddenly found ourselves faced with the reality; we were over 3000 metres above sea-level, it was cold, dark and we had no where to shelter! It was then the altitude sickness caught up with Dani, too, who began displaying the same symptoms as Sarven. There is no way to describe the feelings of such a moment in words without understating it heavily. Later we’d discuss the whole adventure/ordeal over dinner, Sarv and I pointing out the very primal fears of darkness and isolation that gripped us. We started batting back and forth the only 2 ideas we deemed feasible at that time; try and rest outdoors, the 5 of us huddling together for warmth, or try to head back down the mountain to safety, albeit, in the dark! Matt and I, just desperate to get everyone to safety, off the mountain, opted to descend. Sarv and Calex, worried about the dangers of traveling anywhere in the darkness, opted to stay put. Dani, in the meantime, was getting steadily worse and was physically sick on several occasions. iIn a bid to find shelter Matt and I descended to the previous station but were met with a very rude refusal by the anal-retentive in charge. It seemed like we were stuck!

  It’s not a big secret that I don’t “accept” things too well. Often it means me losing my temper or brooding. However the only fear that had plagued me the whole trip was something hurting my friends. I had been genuinely afraid that someone would get hurt or sick…. or worse. Seeing these fears start to come to life gave me a sense of resolve; there was no way I could accept this situation. All our phones were on their last block of battery but I decided to call my kouchou sensei (head-teacher/principal,) the only person I knew who had climbed Fuji multiple times. Before the battery cut out he urged me to keep trying at the station, pushing the fact that some of our party had severe altitude sickness. I did so and…. it actually worked. I’d like to say I just waved my hand and said “you will let us stay the night” but it was more like me zoning in on the sympathetic-looking girl who manned (womanned?) the snack shop and pleading with her to let us stay, even if we had to sleep on the floor. Jedi Mind Trick or not, it worked. There had been a few cancelations and we were given spaces in the cramped, but very, very warm and indoors, bunks. Sarv had acclimatised to a degree by this time but Dani was in a bad way, and Calex too was beginning to feel the effects; experiencing a head ache and nausea.

  It was definitely a major relief to be in out of the cold and dark. But the conditions were incredibly crowded and something that maybe a bit of a secret about me is that I’m mildly claustrophobic. It’s usually only in very extreme cases, when I literally can’t move without touching walls and when it’s extremely hot. It’s never made itself an issue before, by and large, until this point. Everyone was packed in tight and, cramped between Matt and Calex, feeling extremely hot, exhausted and stressed, I got very irritable, fidgety and had a couple of minor freak-outs during the night. Luckily around midnight the majority of those staying at the station set off for the summit, no doubt to see the sun rise. This left us with way more room and we actually managed to get the first decent sleep we’d had since Thursday night.

  That morning we were up around 5 am. Sarven and Dani had largely recovered but Calex was still feeling rough. The risks of further exacerbating all 3 of their conditions made climbing further very unappealing. We faced the final difficult but inevitable decision; to abandon our attempt to reach the summit and get everyone to safety. To end it all there, when we were so close to the summit (just 500 metres left) was no easy decision for any of us, and yet… I don’t think anyone doubted for a second it was the right call. Since night had drawn in and throughout our stay at 8th station all I could think of was getting off the mountain. I really didn’t care about the summit anymore. I still don’t. In the end it came down to the safety and well being of friends vs climbing a few more metres of volcanic wasteland just to stand on the top of it for a few minutes and secure bragging rights. We had all, it seems, come to hate Fuji. The mountain was our captor and we were gonna fight it tooth and nail to escape. So, with the sun low in the sky (very low from our perspective) we set off down the mountain.

  We soon realised that both plans from the night before would have been pretty dangerous. The cold was chilling and a night of that would have been pretty bad for us. At the same time we found that the route down the mountain, whilst more spacious, was on very lose, ashen soil that would have made traversing it by night pretty hazardous. Tired and low in spirits we progressed silently until the greenery of the lower half over Fuji was once again in sight. Calex was still feeling nauseous and had a pounding head-ache, having been the last to succumb to altitude sickness he had not yet acclimatised. As we neared 5th station we discussed the idea of heading to the main station (where the tourist-climbers usually start from) and riding the rest of the trip out by bus. Calex decided he’d had enough of walking so I accompanied him to 5th station whilst Sarv, Matt and Dani continued on foot. Splitting up worried me considerably but 2 hours later Calex and I found ourselves back amongst civilisation. Concerned about the other’s progress we jumped in the car and set out up the mountain road we had initially set out on over 24 hours earlier. Sure enough we encountered the other 3 just setting foot onto the road a good hour’s walk from the shrine. Relieved to see everyone safe and at ground level we took ourselves to a local Coco’s (the other Coco’s, not the curry place) and ordered sizable amounts of food. Sweaty, smelly, dirty and very, very tired we finally felt we could relax. Though we hadn’t reached the summit we felt we’d achieved a victory nonetheless. We’d climbed 3,250 metres having driven for 4 hours prior on no sleep, 3 of us had been struck by altitude sickness, we’d been stranded with initially no sign of shelter, we’d climbed back down on minimal sleep…. and we’d survived.

  The great irony of our trip is that during the climb we felt only the occasional spot of rain. The drive home was, however, another matter. Whatever divine force is in charge of “taking the piss” decided then would be a good time to open the flood-gates of heaven and we spent much of the journey home driving through torrential rain with very limited visibility, on 1 occasion even having the whole car covered by a small tidal wave courtesy of a passing truck! Still, we once again survived this ordeal in 1 piece and had returned the car to the dealer (and gotten an early-return refund) by 6 pm. Calex took my keys and an early train back to Ena to crash out at my place. Sarv, Dani, Matt and I got dinner at Coco’s (the curry place, not the other Coco’s) and philosophically reflected on our epic journey. I’ve resisted making Lord of the Rings references throughout this update but we did indeed feel like little hobbits scaling Mt. Doom. It even looked like Mt. Doom, what with the volcanic rock an’ all. It was a long and difficult journey and there were times when we cursed our own stupidity, for not taking many things into account, for thinking that we could just get by on guts alone. But in hindsight there was little more we could have done. No one can really prepare for the onset of altitude sickness and we couldn’t have set off any earlier. Booking a place at a station mighta been a smart move but it’s all academic now. Fuji was meant to be special, and it was. Just not the way any of us had imagined. We pushed ourselves like never before and challenged ourselves physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually. In the end the thing that stands out the most is how little anything meant next to the well-being of people you love and care for, which is something I am very glad for. Fuji was epic and we’re all glad we did it. It will stay with us forever, the good, the bad, the very bad. But we’ll never do it again. Ever.
  
  

  Love. Peace. Sauron, you suck! “She’ll destroy us all before she’s through, and find a way to blame somebody else.”

  • 10:24 am
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