I made a remark to one of my Japanese teammates that I would love to climb Mt. Fuji in one of my trips to Japan. Three weeks later, we had signed up with some more teammates to do it! I was about to strike something off the bucket list. I hadn’t done that in a long time.
As I anticipated the climb, I felt anxious about my abilities. I had gained a few pounds and was not at my fittest. However, I had seen pictures of retirees climbing the mountain and figured it would be fine. The last time I had such an adventure, I was at the prime of my fitness. Yet, it stretched me on our final approach to Machu Picchu.
As we approached the mountain, the size and the gradient daunted me. I wasn’t feeling my best with allergies from Tokyo playing havoc with my head and nose. I was worried about altitude sickness, although I never had it previously. The night before, I was checking all the peaks I had been to and seeing if the absolute altitude was higher or lower. Turned out that this was going to be my highest climb ever. I was about to climb the 35th-highest mountain in the world.
We reached an altitude of 2000m and started our ascent there. We were expected to take six and a half hours to reach the mountain hut at 3400m. The plan was to make the summit just in time for the sunrise, in the land of the rising sun. I find sunrises overrated and think sunsets offer a more dramatic experience with colors, duration, and mental stimulation. But we see so few sunsets or sunrises, and I wasn’t complaining.
The climb began in a forested area. It did not feel like we were on a volcano. The climb was relentless but manageable. In about two hours, we entered the barren ash-rich soil area that I had expected all along. The slope of the volcanic mountain was linear, which gave us no respite as the climb never flattened out.
Soon, the trees gave way to clouds. As we kept climbing, the air got cooler and the clouds heavier. It was inevitable that mountain weather would make its appearance. As we approached 2400m, the heavens opened up. The Gore-Tex gave up. My pants were not waterproof. The raincover for my bag was not effective. Yet, we keep walking. Step by step. Meter by meter, we climbed towards the peak. The weather only made us more determined.
But about four hours into the climb, we began to feel it. Our breaks became frequent. The conversation stopped. We finished our water and bought more water. The only respite was that we could see our destination in the distance, and that kept us going. Finally, after six hours, we reached our edoya hut. It felt like victory already. We immediately changed out our wet clothes and that felt like we had all showered. The hosts at the hut served us a nice warm meal. The lights were out at 2030. We tried to sleep in our bunks, but it was tough. The muscles ached. The body was strained. We had to get up at 0130 to climb up again to the summit for the sunrise. The cold made me go to the bathroom multiple times in the night. I woke up with a headache and immediately popped a pill. I had come too far to give up. I was feeling the effects of my allergies and rarefied air.
At 2 am, we stepped out in the darkness with our headlights and looked up. Like stars, we saw a line of climbers who had the same ideas as us. In a way, the air was cooler and the line was moving slowly, so the climb did not feel tough. Now, we wondered if we would make it in time. But since we were on the east side of the mountain, we were not concerned. Eventually, at 4 am, we reached the summit! The joy was subdued as the climb did not feel that difficult on day two. We looked for a place to watch the sunset and then sat down.
The sunrise was spectacular. More dramatic was how far above the clouds we were, how bright the crater shone, and how orange our faces looked! Then we circled the crater, had some spicy udon, and headed back down.
The descent was brutal. They had made a train that went straight down the mountain. At times, we felt we were tumbling rather than descending. It took a gruelling three hours. My knees hated the pain. My toes were sore. I finally decided to walk backwards. I just wanted it over. But every time I looked back at the mountain, I was in awe of what we had just climbed.
After three and a half hours, we made it back! After blaming the trailmaker, I made a mental note to have climbing poles ready next time.
It was a true adventure. We made memories to last a lifetime. After, we all went to a nice Japanese Onsen, ate a nice lunch, and drove back to Tokyo. At the hotel, I barely managed to change my clothes and went to bed. I could not remember the last time I was so physically tired.
There is something special about climbing mountains. It is not the metaphorical achievement of what you set your mind to, but rather the ability to slice down mountains into simple, small steps. The effort is real. The heart rate is real. The views are real. The achievement is real, which, as I get older, is a feeling that is fleeting.
