Climbing Fuji, An Overview

Like any recent, fresh traumatic experience, I don't feel ready to talk about it, and yet, I must.

This picture was taken just before our actual ascent up Fuji. Big smile. Physically okay. Completely unsuspecting. It is a picture of a simpler time.

We arrived at Fuji just after seven in the morning, the three-hour trip having gone by quickly because first the tour guide talked for an hour and then I just went to sleep.

The tour guide shared lots of helpful information. She passed out maps, told us symptoms of altitude sickness, and gave us a timetable. She did, however, leave out a very key piece of information that I will get to later. Other bases actually require people who sign up for this tour to take a class. It's about two-hours long and is nothing that you can't find out with a little time and Google. It's kind of tough love, I guess. People have canceled their trip after taking this class. They recommend roughly four million pounds worth of gear and water and tell you that you can die.

Blissfully unaware of all of this, Andrea, Sarah and I set out. My only goal was to go as far as I possibly could. If that was the summit, okay, but let's be realistic. I am no Bear Grylls.

When we started up, we were surprised at how hard it was. Go ahead, laugh.

Did we think climbing Fuji was going to be easy? No. However, after hearing that everyone has done it, then how hard could it be, right? Well, here's the thing about "everyone." A disproportionate number of the people we know have done it because we are all foreigners and we come here and we want to conquer things like any good American. Most Japanese people do not climb Mt. Fuji.

The ones that do are a really interesting mix of people. Some have hundreds of dollars worth of climbing equipment. They book a tour and do group calisthenics before hiking up. Some people look like they went to the mall, climbed Fuji, had dinner with friends, then to a concert. T-shirt, jeans, a messenger bag and (no joke) Converse sneakers. They are all ages. Elderly to small children. All of whom passed me on the way up.

 

The view is spectacular from the very first time the trees clear. It was exactly like what I saw when we first flew to Japan.... because we were that high off the ground. We were above the clouds. The most beautiful view I am likely to ever see in my life.

The first leg was a gravel and dirt path that zigged and zagged upward toward the string of huts you can see in the distance in the first picture. It was tiring, but okay. Then, the path stopped.

Here we arrive at that key piece of information the guide failed to tell us. The one thing no one shared, in all my asking around. What I consider the most important piece of information in this whole excursion.

There is serious rock climbing.

When I booked the trip, the lady at MWR told me I might want to bring cotton gloves because I might have to do a little climbing. There was no "might" and no "little" about it. We were at this for hours.

Oh, Jeeana, you might be thinking. You whined and complained the entire way up the mountain, so surely you are exaggerating and are acting like a tiny baby who needs to be swaddled for comfort.

Let me provide you with proof.

 

 

Where is the path up? You're looking at it.

A truly great workout is only an ocean away if you want to visit. Sarah, Andrea and I actually ended up splitting up. Sarah, who is seventeen, and therefore really good at climbing Fuji, went ahead. Andrea and I met and separated a few times. I climbed the rest of the ascent and descended with the tour guide and a wonderful woman visiting her niece. The tour guide was amazing. She was so much fun and was constantly taking my camera to snap pictures. She wasn't much for boring, normal pictures. She enjoyed things like this:

Considering our national histories, I didn't really want to act like I was staking her to death. She, however, insisted. It was awkward and violent and really, really funny.

She also made me do this:

Yes, that is king of the world, a trend that should have begun and ended in 1997. It took a lot of effort to lift my arms that high. At this point, I was dragging myself up the mountain.

I did not make it to the summit. I know I cannot help the fact that you will think less of me, but frankly, I do not care. You try climbing Fuji. It's pretty hard. From the 8th Aid Station, where we began our descent, to the summit was another four hours. It is steeper and more difficult than where we had just come from. Also, the path up is one person wide, so everything bottlenecks. In my sorry physical shape, there was no way I could go to the top and still make it down in time to get the tour bus back. I hear that there is a nice noodle shop, gift shop, and post office where you can mail post cards from the top of the mountain. There is also a crater that takes an hour to walk around and not much of a view because all you get is crater (Fuji is, after all, a volcano).

I will never know because I will not be going back. Once is plenty for me.

The descent is a "sand slide," which is exactly what it sounds like. Sandy, rocky and slidey. It's difficult to get a good footing so you kind of have to relax and go with the flow. I was as happy as I'd been all day because we were finally on our way down.

 

The descent is still pretty steep, as you can see. Occasionally they have these concrete overhangs to protect you from falling debris, which is kind of silly considering that the entire way is littered with signs that say "Danger: falling debris, do not rest here." If you're going to die in a rock slide, you're going to die in a rock slide. It could happen in any of the three or four hours it takes to descend. Plus those tunnels are moist and damp and creepy.

To me, descending was a lot easier than the ascent, and a lot more pleasant because every step I took brought me closer to the ice cream at the bottom.

I am glad I went. I am glad I never have to go again. And in the end, I didn't need rain gear or hiking boots or a fancy backpack. 

What I needed was to be taller and stronger, but they don't rent that at outdoor rec.