I love mountains, and volcanoes have always captured my imagination. Ever since my childhood days, Mt. Fuji has always been a picture postcard image in my mind with the mountain in the background and the famed Bullet train zooming past it And when the chance finally came my way to spend a few years in that wonderful country which had this fabulous mountain, I wasn't just about to let go of the chance of being able to scale its peak.

Mt. Fuji, lovingly called "Fujisan" by the Japanese, rising above the clouds, is symbolic of Japan and has provided a spiritual basis for the Japanese since ancient times. This 12,380ft (3776 m), dormant volcano is world renowned for its symmetry and serenity. Heavy volcanic activities, which started several hundreds of thousands of years ago and ended in 1707, sculpted the present gentle shape of this beautiful mountain. It is situated between Yamanashi and Shizuoka Prefectures, and is visible from Tokyo on a clear day.

Its height, (a little less than 3800m) and its close proximity to a city like Tokyo, and the fact that there is a lot of difference between climbing a mountain and climbing a volcano doesn't deter people from climbing it every year during the summer season. Unfortunately, most people go home disappointed after the climb due to the reason that it doesn't have the easy fun-filled charm of climbing a regular mountain with an abundance of flora and fauna. Somehow, for reasons beyond my comprehension, the task of climbing Fuji has acquired a quasi-mystical status in Japan.

The picture postcard image of the Bullet train speeding past  in the background of snow capped Fuji.

As my good friend and colleague from England, Jon Baber once told me, "You can tell a Japanese 'I scaled Everest last year' and he will say 'Oh really? How do you like the sushi?' But if you say 'I climbed Fujisan last weekend' he will put his chopsticks down and look at you with awe (ah, to be respected at last!) and contemplate this incredible feat, not without a touch of envy, because, chances are that he drove the family out to the base of the mountain last year and attempted to climb it in his golf shoes."

I have never been a mountaineer, nor do I intend to be one, and I have not trekked up higher than 2000m above sea level. I love the outdoors, have done my fair bit of trekking and biking, but have never attempted anything as big as this! Ever since I had been in Japan, the Fuji climb had always been at the back of my mind, the only hitch being, that it seemed a bit expensive to do it on my own. It was only when Jon told me one fine July morning that there was a good travel deal that his Japanese student told him about, that we decided to take the plunge….err…rather trek up to the peak!

 The path that is usually followed by trekkers to the peak of Mt. Fuji.

It was a two-day, all-paid-for trek to the peak, with a Japanese full course lunch and a 3 hour soak in the hot springs thrown in for good measure! The three of us, Jon, our Slovakian friend Jan Ivanco, and myself, decided to do the trek together. Among the three of us, only Jan had some mountaineering experience, having done some serious 2500m plus treks in the Alps. Both Jon and I were novices in mountaineering or even serious trekking.

Well, having paid for the trip in advance, there was no looking back and we had a week to prepare for the trip. I needed some essential gear like good trekking boots with ankle supports and a pair of trekking trousers having lots of pockets. The organizers of the climb had given us the list of do's and don'ts and also a list of essentials to carry. We never expected the trip to be an easy one, but neither did we imagine that it would be as tough as it turned out to be! Since we were based in Osaka, it was a straight 6-7 hours drive for us to the city of Fujiyoshida in the foothills of Mt.Fuji, from where the climbing trail starts from about 2000m, called Station 5.
A rare, cloud free  glimpse of the majestic Mt. Fuji from Fujiyoshida city.

23rd August 2000, 9:30 hours:
We started off from Osaka after a mini disaster, all because Jon the incorrigible Brit forgot the map that indicated the location of the starting point of the bus in which we were supposed to travel (well, I too had a map which I had forgotten, but remember, this is my travelogue, so I can safely put the blame on Jon!). Well, my pathetic Japanese came in handy here and we were finally able to get to the bus with a few minutes to spare, thanks to a bunch of lovely Japanese women who incidentally were on the same bus and tour <grin>! We settled down in the bus much to the amusement of the 15-odd Japanese people on board, of whom, a few were overzealous to show off their English-speaking skills, but as long as they were pretty women, none of us were complaining at all!! The bus took about 7 hours to drive up to the 5th station, with frequent stops for beer and refreshments.

Fujisan has a very unique way of presenting itself to you. It suddenly appears as if out of nowhere and one can't help but stare at it in awe. The first thing that strikes you is its absolute symmetry, which indeed is its most exclaimed asset. Fujisan, as they say, is a very shy mountain, its peak almost always hidden away behind clouds. I have passed in front of the mountain on many occasions while traveling to Tokyo by the shinkansen or more popularly known as the famed bullet train, but I have been able to see the mountain in its full glory, only on a couple of occasions. Thankfully, when we reached Fujiyoshida, we were blessed with a clear summer sky and we hoped that the weather would hold for the next 24 hours so that once we were at the top, we could enjoy the view below, without having the clouds in between!! Moreover, the weather on the mountain is highly localized and hence very unpredictable.

23rd August 2000. 16:00 hours:
We reached Station 5 by about 16.00 hours and after we were offloaded from the bus, we were taken straight to a lodging place and were told that we would get half an hour to get ready for the trek and that there would be an early dinner too. We freshened up, repacked our gear, checked and stored away the camera gear (Jon and me had almost identical camera gears, basically a Canon EOS-Kiss-III SLR and two zoom lenses of 35-80mm and 100-300mm, while I carried an additional digital camera and we had decided to share one tripod between us). To get the weight of the backpack down, we wore some of the warm clothing.

The Japanese summers, known for their high 30's temperatures, and high humidity did pose a major problem. The temperature, as we would get higher, would drop to near freezing point and so we had to carry warm clothes. At the same time, during descent, it would get terribly hot and humid and one had to get rid of these heavy, warm clothes. Lunch (I'd rather call it an early dinner), was a decent Japanese meal consisting of Mizo soup, rice, smoked salmon, pickled Daikon (radish), salad and green tea. It was indeed an odd time for such a meal, but we knew that once we started off, we wouldn't get a decent meal till we were back and that wasn't until about 10:30 a.m. the next day. So we forced ourselves to enjoy the meal, which I thought was a pretty cold one even by Japanese standards!

The view of the peak from Station 5, the base camp for trekkers.
The official Fuji climbing season begins in late July and extends till September and during this season a lot of people do make the attempt. So on this particular day, Station 5 was teeming with a few thousand wannabe mountaineers, young, and old, in full gear, some very casually dressed and a few ladies in fancy shoes which wouldn't take them anywhere up the mountains!

We refilled our water bottles (3 liters of water per person is the recommended quota, but we restricted ourselves to just 2 liters.. boy.. they sure weigh a ton!), got ourselves good walking sticks which was, in fact a very good investment even at a phenomenal 1500 yen a piece! We took some photographs and very soon after that, our group assembled and our guides took over from the person who was with us in the bus. One of the guides shot off a 5 minute lecture interlaced with numerous low bows and big smiles, and we had our pretty Japanese women always at hand for the translations, which in any case didn't mean anything much other than formal introductions and a synopsis of what lay ahead of us. There were to be two guides, one leading in the front and the other following up at the back to make sure that the group stayed together.

We started off at precisely 18:00 and the summer sun was still very high up and it was indeed a hot day. Our first destination was Station 6. The path between the 5th and the 6th Stations is relatively gentle, not more than 700 meters long and climbs no more than 80 meters. It is the section that 95% of the would-be climbers in fancy shoes walk, before deciding that mountaineering was not their cup of tea. Fortunately, all the members of our group were well-equipped and suitably attired and we all were determined to take this to its logical conclusion. We were helping each other on with frequent doses of "Gambatte" which roughly translates as "hang on in there!" and pats on the shoulder.In the very first hour of the trek, the two guides took a good look at each of the 15 members of the group. Most of them were in their mid to late 20's, and about 6 of them (both men and women) were in the 30-60 range (pssst…. I counted myself in this group though all of them thought of me to be in the former group!). The guides then worked out the pace at which the trek should be done as the final aim was to get to the peak before sunrise, which was at about 4:40 am.

The peak of Mt Fuji jutting above the clouds as seen from 10000m from an aircraft

 The group more or less stuck together and soon the faces in my group became more and more familiar. This helped a lot in pacing the walk as one could look for familiar faces and smiles. The trek up to the Station 6 has a lot of trees and woods and was a pleasant one. We reached Station 6 in about an hour and things were all nice and easy.The tree lines of the 5th station soon give way to barren rock and ash terrain, which gets steeper, and underfoot the surface varies continuously from fine gravel to sharp uneven rock and 6 inch thick volcanic ash. This is not a problem going up, but becomes a real pain on the way down: every step down will requires a different leg movement and no rhythm can be maintained. Moreover, it was getting dark quickly. The trees and shrubs soon disappeared and gave way to just loose soil and rocks, and since there was no moon, we couldn't see beyond a few feet in front. Out came the torches, which served no other purpose than to see where one's feet were landing.

The path up the mountain is determined by a series of ropes that are strung between poles for most of the way up. There are also painted arrows on the rock that shine bright in the moonlight. All the ropes and arrows suggest a marginally better route through the volcanic debris, than what one would walk if one picked a completely random path up the slope.Thirty minutes after leaving Station 6, we were sweating profusely and found it very difficult as we had worn some of the warm clothes, but we knew that soon they would be needed. The trek from Station 6 to 7 takes about 2-3 hours. Fuji has very steep sides and specially the last 500 m is extremely steep and full of volcanic rocks and makes climbing pretty difficult. And it gets more and more steeper as one goes up. Anyway, we trudged on, getting our 10 min breaks (all the time, wishing that they were longer!) at regular intervals. The volcanic soil, being acidic, loose and sandy, there is absolutely no vegetation after the Station 6. Yes, absolutely no vegetation. It is extremely barren, though in the darkness when one cannot see beyond a few feet in front, it really doesn't matter all that much.

My pals Jon and Jan with the trekking guide (on the right) at station 6.
At some points where it was very steep, one would take one step forward and then slip two steps backwards. The going only got tougher, but we still pushed ahead. It was pretty dark by then, but thankfully we were blessed with an absolutely clear sky, which is very rare during this season. The reason is that since Mt.Fuji is the only high peak in that area, it attracts clouds. This is why Mt.Fuji is always hiding behind them. As the night got darker and we went higher, the sky looked glorious. Stars shone down on us with a kind of brilliance that I have never seen before. Down below, the small towns at the foothills of the mountain twinkled with the night lights.

One of those cities was having a summer festival (Natsu Matsuri) and we could see the fireworks. They looked so tiny from up there. The twinkling of the stars above was frequently accompanied by the flashing red and white of a passing aircraft. During one of my trips to north Japan, I remember having told an airhostess to remind me when the aircraft flew over Mt.Fuji. I was dozing off and she woke me up to show me the majestic cone of Mt.Fuji sticking out of the clouds. It was a magnificent sight and I did manage to click a picture of it (no restrictions on taking aerial pictures from aircrafts unlike those over Indian airspace!)

Looking down into the mist covered valley of 7 lakes at the foothills of Mt Fuji from above Station 7 after sunset.
Getting back to the present, as we went higher, it got colder and I could feel my sweat running cold inside my 3 layers of clothing! I had a T-shirt, a woolen sweater and a windcheater on, a pair of woolen inners over my trekking pants, and warm woolen socks and my trekking boots. I had my backpack, a waist pouch, my film camera attached to my belt and a stick to help in walking. The weight of the backpack seemed to be increasing as we went higher and higher!

Soon something else got added to our list of woes -- shrill, 60-70 kmph, wind, which was cold and whipping up the dust and loose soil. If I opened my mouth for a second, it was filled with fine dust. Since there was no moon, we had only our torches and the person in front of us to guide us upwards. Of course the guides were always there when you needed them. They never let us out of their sights, come what may. This cold, dusty wind was parching our lips and soon I could feel the skin on my lips curling up and if I touched it just peeled off.

It was now about 9 pm and we made it to the Station 7. We had a 15 minute break. We drank a few big gulps of "Pocari Sweat" which is a very popular summer drink in Japan. It's basically a soft drink laced with electrolytes and minerals, like our desi "Electral", though a lot more palatable! The summers in Japan can get extremely hot and humid (38 deg C, more than 80% humidity), so this drink was my best bet to beat exhaustion and it worked wonders. We three had a bite of the high energy chocolates that we had carried with us.

And the painful walk started again. By now the walking paths had become narrow and the pace was slow as people ahead were slowing down, but one couldn't just overtake anyone. Also, it was very rocky and a false step would throw one down on to the sharp edged rocks on one's side that one couldn't even see in the dark!!

I dropped my torch and it went kaput!! Actually it didn't go kaput as I realized much later on. The dust had got into the switch and it had got stuck. I had a backup torch and so we went on. Jon and Jan were up in the front while I was tagging at the end of our group along with the guide with whom I was trying to make a decent conversation in my broken Japanese. He was a college student, doing this as a part-time job because it brought him a lot of money in a short period. He told me that he had done this many times (Boy,…. the things people do for money!) To which I would tell him later that I wouldn't do this again for a million dollars (err... well... did I say a million dollars?).

From Station 7 to 8 was the toughest climb. (it's over 2800m and the air is pretty thin).I was gasping for breath every few steps, and the cold wind, dust and my smoking weren't helping me either. I could see people breathing into small oxygen canisters which were available at Station 5 but we had chosen not to take them along!At some point along the trek, the one thought that did bother me was why had I wanted to do such a painful trek…and also the thought that maybe I should quit and go back down. But you know having come this far, quitting is never really an easier option. So one keeps telling oneself that it's only a few more hours and it would all be over!

24th August 2000. 00:05 hours:
By about midnight we reached Station 8 (the last one) and we got the news that we would get an hour's rest. That was the best news we heard in a long, long while!!! We had already trekked over 6 hours in the night and we were really deadbeat. If I had been granted a wish at that point, I would have wished for a hot bath, some good food and a nice cozy bed!!! I guess that's what most of us would have wished for. We were handed two packs of ready-to-eat rice meal and a 6 feet by 2 feet bunker in a shed that looked more like a chicken house!! Anyway, we plonked down straight away and were asleep in a few minutes. Right on the dot, they woke us up at 1.00 a.m. and there were quite a few groans and grunts as we were politely asked to get ready in 5 minutes.

24th August 2000. 01:10
There are no toilets up there, except a deep pit, and a long queue. So we just did our thingy (backpacks on) and were ready. The last 700 m would take us about 3 hours so we hoped we could make it to the top to see the sunrise which was around 4:40 am. Well, that was the whole aim of the trip -- to see the sunrise from the top. It is supposed to be a breathtaking sight and we didn't want to miss it. By God's grace, the sky was unusually clear that day, though the temperature was near freezing, with a 60-70kmph wind whipping up dust and adding to the chill factor and making it feel like way below zero degrees!!

The wierd cloud formation that appears on top of the peak during sunrise.

24th August 2000. 04:00 hours:
The last 50-100 meters was probably the toughest. Maybe it was due to the fact that I was very tired and my hands were bruised and sore. There were only rocks and no path at all. We could see the entrance to the peak from here. We found that all the vantage points on the peak were taken and if we needed to take photographs, we had to stop now until the sunrise was over. So three of us told the guide that we are stopping and going up only after sunrise, and we chose a spot away from the teeming crowd and settled down and took out our camera gear. I can tell you (and Jon would vouch for me) that a dusty volcano is the worst possible place where a camera can be -- dusty and cold. Jon's zoom lens got stuck because of the dust and he had to use mine. We were ready for the rendezvous with the sun!! As sunrise approached, the darkness gave way to a faint glow over the low clouds and one could feel the palpable anticipation of the people gathered there.

24th August 2000. 04:40 hours:
The sunrise took me by surprise due to the quickness of its arrival.. The sun just came out suddenly -- a tiny orange speck that threw brilliant orange and red colors over the clouds. Boy, it was indeed breathtaking !! At that instant, we forgot all the pains and trouble that we had gone through in the last 9 hours in order to get here -- standing at 3600m above sea level, watching the glorious sunrise. No words can adequately describe those moments, and no camera can capture and reproduce what my eyes saw. Then things moved very fast and there was a frenzy of camera clicks... I probably exposed a whole roll of film in less than 3 minutes, not to mention the many pictures that I captured on the digital camera too. In less than 10 minutes, the sun was up and all the colors were gone. But down below, in the plains, it was a different story. The sunlight filtering down thru the fog, was lighting up the three lakes and the peaks of the smaller mountains around. That was a totally different experience. There was this very odd-shaped cloud that looked like an alien spacecraft right above the peak. This formation appears on the top of the peak occasionally and we were lucky that the conditions were just right that day for it to make an appearance. I believe that the shape of the cloud is due to the unique wind patterns on top of the peak. We stood there savoring every moment of it until it was time to move on.. We quickly got to the peak (3600m) and just walked around there. The real peak is a small hillock on the top (50 meters higher).

The crater, which is a huge pit about 200-300 meters in diameter, was awesome and scary too. To think that only a thousand years ago, this pit was spewing lava and rocks all over the place made one feel so small and insignificant. There is also a weather observation radar station (now defunct) on the other side of the peak. We didn't have time to go into the crater, moreover we weren't sure if there was a trekking path down into the crater or if it was safe to go down the crater. But then, since we were in a group, we couldn't have done it in any case. The peak is almost an anticlimax. Except for the fantastic view from the top, there is nothing up there but volcanic ash and rocks (obviously !!) and its terribly dusty, cold and windy, not to mention the teeming hundreds and their excited chatter and the pop of the flashbulbs. So we just walked around…there is a temple there, so we had a peek at it. I found it really odd and funny, but it seemed so very Japanese to find a series of vending machines and even a souvenir shop on top of the peak!!! Trust the Japanese to do that! It was still very windy, but the summer sun was already way up and heating things up pretty fast. I collected some volcanic rocks, took a few pictures (including that of the three pretty women in our group!) and about 7:00, we assembled for the descent. My lips were so parched that they were sore to touch.. So I left them like that !!

The climb down was both easy and tough at different points. At least now we could see where we were going and the descent was on a well-marked path; difficult because the temperature was already in the high 30's and absolutely no question of taking refuge under any shade because there just wasn't any!!

Then the thirst hit us. The three of us ran out of water pretty soon and we knew we had to wait for at least 4 hours to get to the next station before getting a drink of water. That was a terrible feeling. Now I knew what it would be to get stuck in a desert without water!! The rests we got during the descent made it even more difficult because after each break, it was difficult to get oneself going all over again!

After five hours of an uneventful trek downhill, except for occasions when one's concentration strays and one slips and falls on the loose ash with a thud, which was a common enough sight, finally at about 10:30 am, I got back to Station 5 (Jon and Jan were way ahead of me as I was pausing to take photographs along the descent) and looking back at the peak, I thought - Oh boy…I couldn't really believe that I had been there!

Nothing in this world is going to make me do it again….I think….But I also know if the chance came up again, I would never be able to resist the temptation!!! Well, at that point of time it was like, "Phew... it's over and done with... now when do we get lunch ?" We assembled again, and got into the bus and we were taken to a hot spring where we all soaked in the hot waters for about 3 hrs. Now that I think back, that was the best part of the whole trip because after the soak and the sumptuous lunch that followed and the chilled beer, we slept like babies in the bus all through the trip back to Osaka!!

At the peak of Mt Fuji. The actual peak is the one in the background. The slope leads to the crater of the volcano.. I don't have to comment on seeing the vending machines on the peak !! Thats Japan...
And surprisingly, not even a single aching muscle the next day even after more than 15 hours of nearly non-stop walking!! That's what a good hot spring soak does to your tired body and taut muscles.. believe me!!! We were back in Osaka by 9 p.m. and we parted and went our different ways. The next day I had stories to tell my Japanese students who listened to me in awe and admiration. All they had to say was " Sugoi ne… Kumar san…" which roughly translates as "Isn't it great…Mr. Kumar!! By the way, none of them have done the Fuji climb yet...!

I have passed Fujisan on several occasions (in the seasons that followed) after the trip, and each time it looked different to me. The snow capped Fujisan is by far the most beautiful sight I have seen in my two years in Japan. As I look and admire the wonder that is Fuji, I can feel my hair stand on their ends all over my body.

Just the thought that "I was there ..." is indeed a great feeling; it gives me a sense of achievement -- that I have conquered something. Now I know what adventurers feel and why they cannot keep themselves away from yet another challenge. As I said before, I am no adventurer, but even I would be really tempted to do something like that yet again!!

Me and my pal Jon taking a well deserved break during the descent.

There is an old Japanese adage that goes something like, "Its a wise man who climbs Mt. Fuji, but only a fool would do it twice." and I have no intentions of becoming a fool…. not at least in the near future, now that I have been proclaimed wise, by no less a people than the Japanese! All said and done, I must mention here that Mt. Fuji is a mountain that is strangely barren and featureless, but at the same time, extremely beautiful and magnetic. But then, only from a fair distance, as rightly poetized in Japanese philosophy as "Kité miréba, Sahodo madé nashi, Fuji no Yama"…. Which translates as "Seen on close approach, the mountain of Fuji does not come up to expectations"….

Ravi A.V. Kumar

                                                                                          

 

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