Complete and Creative

How to Climb Mt. Fuji (2/2)

…continued from

This is how the trek goes: You take a bus (I took one from Kawaguchiko) to a town that’s a few stations above the foot of Mt. Fuji (the return bus departs from this same town, which you’ll come back to on your way down). In the town, you can buy souvenirs and have one last meal (no pun intended) before you start the climb. They sell walking sticks in the town. Don’t be too proud. I recommend buying one. It’ll come in handy.

If you’re in a group, here is where you have to decide whether or not everyone’s the same speed. If not, which is usually the case, break up into two groups. If you’re anything like me, you’re going to be pretty hot during the first half hour or so. I was wearing only a wife-beater for the first thirty minutes to an hour, which I don’t encourage, since not everyone’s a freak of nature like me. Then I put my clothes back on. Oh yeah, don’t lend your jacket, sweater, or windbreaker to someone in the other group unless you have a spare. Thank God someone in my group had a spare.

The view is all worth it…

Keep your group together (if you’re in a group). If you’ve got more than, say, five people in your group, then you might want to be prepared to break up further. It is not a good idea for a faster person to wait or for a slower person to rush. Naturally, pushing yourself too hard while climbing Mt. Fuji could be suicidal; however, even if you’re fit, you don’t want to push your luck by waiting around too long for your friends. The human body sustains momentum much better than it builds it. If you stop too often, starting again gets progressively harder. But don’t forget to take well-balanced breaks.

On the way up, there are stations that sell souvenirs. They don’t really matter, except the oxygen tanks and the service to etch emblems on your walking stick. Each station offers a different emblem. They show how far up you’ve gone. I didn’t buy a stick, but a friend did. He was quite proud of the emblems. He even cut up the stick so it would fit in his luggage on his way out of Japan. Even if you don’t need the extra oxygen, you might want to borrow a tank from a friend with a weaker set of lungs and take a whiff. It’s quite a sensation (not that I endorse regular doses).

If you happen to get to the summit early enough to have to wait for the sunrise, things might get a bit chilly. In this case, being in a group can be a life-saver. I don’t think before nor since has anyone been so glad to have my butt on their lap (we cuddled to stay warm). On the summit, there are a temple, a pillar in Japanese (kanji, Chinese characters) stating that is the summit of Mt. Fuji, and a huge crater.

The way down is a test of mental endurance. This is where the mental strength part comes in and when you’ll love your walking stick. I didn’t have one. My knees weren’t really happy with me. It’s a steep way down. A walking stick helps. It aids you in not rolling down the path in an attempt to reach the bottom as soon as possible. The entire way down is just a repeating zigzag. There’s no variation. At least when you’re going up, you know you’re getting closer and closer to the summit at each station. But on the way down, you really have no indication of how close you are until you get to the bottom. Well, you do pass through the clouds, but you’re really in them, so you don’t notice. I remember wanting to give up a few times because it felt as if it would go on forever. The trick is, you have to go on.

At this point, you don’t think of food or thirst or sleep. Your body just keeps going. Remember to take an occasional sip of tea if you have any left. You don’t want your body to burn out.

Once you reach bottom, rest long enough so that you know you’ll have enough energy to limp, crawl, or otherwise somehow make your way back to your lodging, however close or far it is. Then sleep and sleep. You won’t wake up for a while.

It is said that climbing Mt. Fuji once is courage, climbing it twice is stupidity. That is only if you make it up to the top the first time. The view’s all worth it, but no one would want to do it again.

Obviously, I am not the only one who’s climbed Mt. Fuji. If you’ve done it and have a few suggestions that deviate from my outlined guide, please, do tell.