Time has really crept up on me - one year ago, I knew very little about this strange place called Japan. One year later and I'm hiking up its highest peak. Although it doesn't make me an expert on Japan, it makes me gifted in the art of suffering. Or a lunatic.
The funniest thing about Fuji-san is the contradiction of its size versus visibility. You'd expect to see a 3,770 meter mountain before you get to it, right?
Let's play find the mountain!
We got to Kawaguchi-ko in the afternoon and sort of checked in to our hostel, which turned out to be this hippy-owned restaurant with a few tatami rooms in the back to sleep in and no shower. However, it was redeemed when the owner and his snooty French friend cooked us wonderful vegetarian meals. The French guy made us a gorgeous salad and pasta the first night, the second night we had homemade pizza, and the last morning we had gorgeous crepes.
The next day, we woke up bright and way too early to climb the mountain. Katie and Kuni-san, her 62-year-old Japanese friend who has climbed Fuji-san 4 times, picked us up from the hostel and off we went. We started at the 5th station, which is basically halfway up the mountain at 2000 meters. It started out great: I had energy and a healthy supply of CalorieMate to keep me going.
And then I just sorta blanked between the 7th station and the summit.
One
foot
in
front
of
the
other.
My Ipod was my best friend in the whole wide world, I couldn't speak, every break was like a little sliver of heaven. And then we reached it:
During the journey to the top, it's like a constant burden knowing that you haven't reached it yet. When you are there, the burden is lifted and it's the best feeling in the world.
To top it all off, Suzie and I got separated from the group before descending, and when we started to follow them, a really hot guy told us not to go that way, because it's really difficult. So we ended up taking the easy way down and beating them!
7.5 hours up, 3 hours down.
I'm glad I did it.
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