Note: the following is true, and happened last weekend. It is NOT a
work of fiction.
Well, as you can tell, I'm back and I have survived the trip up
the side of Mt Fuji. Barely. I had planned to be back yesterday, but
I needed an extra day to recover. (Note: Hotels in Gotemba City are
nice but overpriced)
Well, here goes:
My trip up the side of Fuji, by Rob "Ashita" Barba
It started Saturday morning, when I departed Yokosuka NavyJR
station. There were two other sailors besides me ready to assault the
mountain, who shall remain mostly nameless (mostly due to
embarrasment) The trip there was really boring and nothing you really
could care about, except to say that Kozu JR station is FAR duller
than Ofuna JR (and that's saying a lot).
Anyway, arriving at Gotemba JR station, we hopped a bus to Getomba
guchi, located at Station 5 of the trail, where we would begin our
trek. We arrived at about 1200 or so, and it would take us about 6
hours to reach the overnight station (Station 8).
Well, to make a few things perfectly clear, there are a few things
I should explain first:
1. Fujiyama is a type 7 climbing trek. Nothing too extrenouous, but
you had best be prepared.
2. I've lived my entire life at sea level. Sure, I've been in the
mountains before, but to make things perfectly clear, NO, I've never
climbed an actual mountain before, especially one that's 3776
m/13200ft.
3. We went on the worst day for climbing. By that, I mean rain.
Driving rain. Squalls, if you're the nautical type like me.
4. Gotemba is the LONGEST of the five trails, and not recommended for
first-time climbers.
What does this mean: well, Ryodachi Kouma told me not to sneer at
Fuji, lest it "sneer back at me." Well, you have three baka
sailors--only two of which are from higher altitude
climates--basically telling Fuji FOND (F*ck Off 'N' Die), we're
climbing anyway.
So, armed with my Fuji walking stick and enough stuff to weigh me
down in the driving rain.
1400
Barely reached Station 5.5 (closed due to Typhoon Opal, which
destroyed all but two of the stations), due to the heavy amounts of
rain. View is spectacular, but my APS camera isn't waterproof, so
it'll have to stay in the bag. Leaving the vegiation line behind, and
getting closer to the long-cooled lava floes that once flowed down the
sides of this mountain.
1500
Had a quick break at (what was left of) Station 5.8, not only to
drink some water and remove all the black rocks sliding into my shoes
(note: next time, use BDUs--military cammies--in lieu of the jeans and
tang I'm wearing). Getting a bit tired due to the altitude
adjustment; whaddya mean the emergency O2 bottles can only be bought
at Station 5?
1630
Made it to Station 6. I think. Made it through the first cloud
bank, but am soaked completely through and am cold due to the wind.
Camera and CD player (just bought it last week, too!) are shot, due to
the water that has completely soaked through the bag.
1800
Can't breathe. Gonna get dark soon. Nowhere near Station
7.4--the next open station. The rain has started up again, and it's
not looking good, Mouseketeers....
1900
Reached 7.4. Person there is surprised that ANYONE has bothered
to climb this late in this weather today. He's trying to say
something, but it's in Japanese, and my synapes are shutting down
(note: out of us three, I'm the only one who speaks Japanese. This
isn't good).
1900-2000
The true test. We're already two hours behind schedule, and the
truth of it is, is because I'm in bad shape. Not the "Oh-I'm
gonna-hurt-tomorrow" bad shape, but the
"Is-he-going-to-live-tomorrow?" bad shape. The rain's coming down in
sheets. 30 knot (approx 45mph, ?kph) winds on the side of the
mountain. Hypothermia and frostbite are setting in, and I'm nowhere
dressed to counter this. It's after dark, and I can't see the light
of the flashlight, nor that of Station 8, so near and so far above.
Breathing is laborious, and I'm near passing out. My colleagues are
SERIOUSLY worried about my health, possibly my life.
Here's where I get lucky. By nature, I'm a stubborn bastard. You
make a line, I cross it. I make a line, you won't cross it. No
challenge can be thrown in my face that I won't practically kill
myself trying to surpass. I can be defeated, but NEVER beaten. As
far as I'm concerned, the mountain and its weather patterns are trying
to kill me (doingf a good job, too), and heavily sneering at me. So,
it's willpower time. I'm going to make and tell this big pile of
rocks where it can stick itself. After all, it's not like I'm
climbing up the side of a dormant volcano, ne?
At 2000, surpising both my friends--both of which were absolutely
surprised I'm still alive (literally), I reach Station 8, and drop at
the front door.
I made it. What am I gonna do next? I'm going to Tokyo
Disneyland...but first, a quick trip to unconsciousnessville....
0600, the next day
I get up and eat a breakfast, take The Traditional Navy
All-Purpose Medicine (800mg of Motrin) for the headaches and the
nausea. Then after paying my bill and thanking whoever for getting me
out of the wet clothes and into the nearest futon (she's cute, named
Mitsuko, and she lives in Kamakura! Waiwai!)
I get ready to go down the mountain. We can't go to Station 12 (the
peak), because it's closed due to the weather.
They say it takes 3 hours to go back down.
I did it in 2.
Getting down, we hop the bus back to Gotemba city, and check into
a hotel for the day, just to make sure I've suffered no ill effects.
Well, to wrap it up, it's a beautiful trip. From what my foggy
brain remembers, it's something to cherish for all time. The view is
absolutely gorgeous, and would've been better if I wasn't busy dying.
The glaciers up there are magnificent, but the switchbacks HURT.
Gotemba is a spectacular trail, but next time, I'm taking Fujinomiya,
instead.
And next time, I'll take the O2 bottle, thanks.
--Rob, Ashita, whatever.
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