Mt. Fuji

My luck with volcano visibility here in Japan hasn’t been good. First I climbed Asahi-dake in Hokkaido (tallest mountain on Hokkaido) without seeing anything through the clouds and rain. Now I’ve made it to the top of Mt. Fuji without seeing the famous view from the top (let alone much of anything along the way).

But the trip was still an adventure, including a 38-hour day with no sleep, law-breaking, beers for breakfast and a day at an amusement park directly after descending from the mountain. Needless to say, I needed a good night’s sleep when I finally returned to Nagano.

I had been planning to do a three-day camping trip alone in the mountains near Nagano this weekend. But on Thursday, a friend invited me to climb Fuji on Sunday with one other guy. Since the season to climb Fuji has already officially ended, and there’s only another month at the most where it’s practical without dealing with snow and really bad weather, I figured this was my chance.

One of the most popular Fuji climbing plans is to ascend the mountain during the night in order to arrive at the summit in time to see the sun rise. This means starting the climb around midnight. Many people climb part way up the mountain and then sleep for five or six hours in a hut before continuing to the top for sunrise. But we planned to do it without a stay at a hut, many of which are closed at this time of the year.

Saturday around 7pm, Scott and I took the train from Nagano to Matsumoto to meet Al, who was finishing an afternoon of teaching. We headed out on the expressway to Fuji, about a three hour drive from Matsumoto. Scott is an Australian who teaches English, but will be leaving Japan in a couple weeks after more than a year here. Al arrived here from Canada two months ago and is also a teacher (both work for different companies than I do).

We stopped in the town of Fujiyoshida to grab dinner. Then we took off for the 45 minute drive to our starting point (the Fifth Station at Kawaguchikoguchi). But the toll-road was closed for the evening, and wouldn’t open until 3am. After considering our options, we picked the most un-Japanese of all — we snuck in. The fences blocking the toll road weren’t secured. In Japan, it’s just assumed that everyone will play by the rules, so there’s no need for more than a couple light-weight gates and a sign saying “closed.”
We started climbing right at midnight, and were happy to see some stars through a few breaks in the clouds. There was no sign of anyone else, and we felt like we were the only ones heading up the mountain.

About an hour into the hike, we entered the clouds. The wind picked up and there was so much moisture in the air we got wet fairly quickly.

Another hour and we realized we definitely weren’t alone on the mountain. We’d run into our first tour group. One always hears stories about the crowds on Mt. Fuji, of hiking in one long line of people from bottom to top and back again. July and August are the busiest months, so we were hoping there wouldn’t be as many climbers. But we must have passed at least 300 people on our way to the top. And this is nothing compared to during the regular season.

Almost everyone in Japan wants to climb Mt. Fuji at least once, so climbers come from all walks of life. Most of the people we saw during our climb looked, well, miserable. The weather was terrible and the climb is arduous. And to say these tour groups were going slowly is a serious understatement. Movement seemed to consist of 100 feet of slow advancement, then a five-minute break. So we ended up having to pass long limes of people on the narrow trail, muttering apologies again and again.

The farther up the mountain we got, the colder and windier it became. Even though the air temperature wasn’t below freezing, it seemed much colder because of the wind and all the moisture.

We arrived at the top after 5am, just in time for sunrise. But the sun was not in evidence. Just ridiculously strong winds, blowing from all directions. There are many huts on the summit, all of which are open during the summer climbing season. But now they were all shuttered, and the only shelter consisted of finding the right wall to huddle near. As we waited for the light to strengthen before starting our descent, we shivered and hopped around for warmth, laughing at how miserably cold we were. You could see groups of climbers everywhere, doing the same thing. It was surreal and a bit comical. Against every wall was a line of figures, bundled up and just standing there waiting for the light.

At one point, we decided to try to find the crater rim. But as soon as we left our wall and rounded the corner of the hut we were standing near, the wind almost knocked us over.
When the light arrived, we headed down, past the groups of climbers we’d passed on our way up, looking even more miserable. It was like a trail of tears.

We made a quick stop at a hut for something warm. We paid $5.50 each a Cup of Noodles. Yuck. But it was hot and salty. It was almost worth it just to hold it to warm up my fingers.
After about an hour, we passed below the clouds obscuring the top of the mountain and could see thousands of feet down to a blanket of clouds covering the ground. We branched off onto the designated descent trail, which was a series of broad switchbacks carved into the mountain. This is the fist time we had any kind of view.

There are at least half a dozen huts on this route (many more on other parts of the mountain), all of them for-profit businesses. The mountain itself is relatively developed and feels more like the attraction that it is rather than pristine nature. There are always man-made structures in view, and tons of people. While actually on the mountain, the sights aren’t so nice. Fuji is must better beheld from a distance.

We arrived back at the Fifth Station around 8:30am, exhausted and sore. So we hopped in the car and headed to the nearest onsen (hot springs). The baths felt great and we relaxed in the tatami lounge with a couple beers before leaving to meet friends at the Fujikyu Highland amusement park nearby for a day of rides, including a roller coaster that (in 1997, at least) was the tallest in the world (259ft).

Mt. Fuji Photos