From the Andes to Mt. Fuji

Chronicle of an ascent to 3776 meters above sea level

It was my third visit to Japan. I would spend all my savings on this trip, so I had to make the most of it. I asked for three weeks of vacation, which I consider the minimum time to enjoy Japan.

On that occasion, my goal was to climb to the summit of the mythical Mt. Fuji, which is 3,776 meters above sea level and is the highest in Japan. For Andeans, in general, its height does not intimidate us. For Ecuadorians, in particular, its beauty is especially attractive because it reminds us of the Cotopaxi volcano in its shape.

Previous visits

During the year I lived in Japan as an exchange student (2004-2005), I could not visit Mt. Fuji. I only saw it from afar when I visited the Hakone temple and from Tokyo, similar to how Cotopaxi is seen from Quito.

I returned for a month in 2006, with the idea of ​​visiting Mt. Fuji, but it was winter, and access to the public was closed. Eight years passed and I kept dreaming of returning. During all that time I had a lot of experiences, but I never forgot my dream.

Finally, in September 2014, a year after UNESCO declared Mt. Fuji a World Heritage Site and a year after I was working at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Ecuador, I found the time and money to travel to Japan again.

It would be a sightseeing trip, short but worth it: I would visit my friends and my host family, I would eat delicious food as always and I would be able to fulfill my dream of climbing to the summit of Mt. Fuji.

Preparations

When I went to visit a Japanese friend’s hostel in Kamakura, with two mountaineer friends whom I met thanks to my friend Mady. They were Yoshiko and Masa, who adopted me as their daughter during that trip. I told them about my intentions to climb Mt. Fuji. They were enthusiastic and began explaining to me how to get there on my own, and even reserved a place in a shelter where I could rest in the middle of the ascent.

Takuan, the owner of the hostel, printed me the directions with the transportation schedules (which in Japan are very exact) and the next day I set out on the adventure. Yoshiko and Masa lent me all the necessary equipment.

Getting there

It was September 9 and there were only a couple of days left to access the summit of the Mt. Fuji, so, to my good luck, there were few people.

After almost 5 hours, between subway, trains, and buses (all means of transport so well maintained that they seem new) I arrived at the 5th. Yoshida route station, which is 2,300 meters above sea level, is one of the most famous to start climbing because it is not difficult for inexperienced mountaineers like me.

I went into the local shops, and there was everything: souvenirs, accessories, mountain clothing, local food, bottled oxygen, etc. At three in the afternoon sharp I began my journey to the top.

Climbing Mt. Fuji

The first part of the path was wide and consisted of a slight slope of bricky sand, with the forest on the right side. Although it was not allowed, I went a few meters into the forest to see the vegetation up close. There were many plants that I did not know about and, due to the humidity, fungi everywhere. I felt happy.

He had a map indicating each station (or shelter) he was going to pass through and, as he ascended, the path became narrower and rockier, while the forest disappeared. At seven at night, I arrived at the shelter where my friends had made the reservation, it was called Toyokan and was located on 8th. Season.

I approached the receptionist, who asked one of the workers there to explain to me where I could rest and how to use the facilities. He spoke to me for a long time. I listened attentively to his explanations, trying to grasp the global meaning of his speech in Japanese. In the end, I thanked him and went to the room.

There are ten stations along the way, where everything necessary for personal hygiene, eating, and drinking is sold. As you go up, the products also become more expensive. In the last station, for example, a bottle of water ends up costing five dollars. I knew that prices were going to be high up there, so I carried my water and my food: several melon pan, onigiri, bananas, nashi fruit, and some sweets.

I told the receptionist that I needed to get up at midnight to continue my tour, as my friends had advised me. He, seeing me alone, tried to dissuade me from undertaking such a feat, however I was determined to see the sunrise at the summit because that had become the objective of my ascent.

I lay down in a wooden room, divided into four parts, where twenty sleeping bags were arranged on each side. It was a room for forty people, but there was no one else. I took my place, which had a small lamp and a tiny space to hang clothes. I went to bed but couldn’t sleep, but at least I rested. A little before midnight I got up and got ready to go out. The receptionist wished me well luck and I headed to the top.

It took me five hours to arrive. The full moon illuminated the trail the entire way, so I didn’t need to use the flashlight I was carrying. It was an exciting road and not as easy as I thought. Near the end, it became quite narrow, steep, and rocky. Furthermore, in the last section, the line became long up and down, so there was human “traffic”, which made the ascent slow. However, it was fun to meet other people, listen to their conversations, and, because of the proximity while we were standing in line, to shelter a little from the cold thanks to human warmth. Even though it was still September, it was quite freezing.

What I saw at the top

A little before dawn, the summit of Fuji was packed with people; While I was walking in line I had not been able to visualize the real size of the number of people, and it was already low season. A bluish light invaded everything around me. I sat down to eat the food I brought up, while everyone drank cups of hot tea and tried to warm their stiff bodies.

It dawned little by little. Thanks to the good weather I could see everything there is supposed to be seen. First: the sunrise, imposing and resplendent, arrived to warm us in a clear sky, and with a much kinder intensity than at the top of the Pichincha volcano, in Quito.

Second, the sea of ​​clouds or Unkai, a cluster of clouds similar to those usually seen high on an airplane giving one the impression of being above the sky.

Third, the shadow of Mount Fuji, one of the most emblematic spectacles that can be seen to the west where you can see the iconic shape of a perfect triangle that Fuji projects over the Shizuoka prefecture, and that is visible when one travels halfway across the crater.

I went around the crater in an hour and a half, passing several Torii with wishes and money, a small temple, and several sculptures of Kamisama. I rested a little trying to capture every detail of what I saw up there in the middle of volcanic rocks and a wonderful view, to never forget the beauty of this volcano that the Japanese consider sacred.

Difficult but Fun Descending

I immediately started the descent, which was going to be quite hard. It was not the same route I took to the top, it was a sandy and, at times, quite slippery descent. On the way, I met a young Japanese man who had served me in one of the stores on the 5th Street Station, from where I started the journey. He had tried to sell me some candy in English and I had replied in Japanese that I had no money. When he noticed that I was having a hard time going down because I didn’t have the mountaineering sticks that are used in these cases, he offered me his own and, upon seeing me, he recognized me and greeted me, so we started the descent together (almost 4 hours) for what I practiced Japanese by listening to the stories of his life.

It was an enjoyable descent. In the end, remembering that I had told him I had no money (because I had brought just enough for transportation), he invited me to eat, with that disinterested kindness, typically Japanese, that I have not found anywhere else.

For dessert, we had Melon Pan in the shape of Mount Fuji (there is never a lack of creativity in Japan). I was tired, but it was a happy tiredness. There, I thought that one day I would also climb to the top of the Cotopaxi in Ecuador (although that requires much more training because it is 5,897 meters above sea level). I said goodbye to my new friend in the bus line and returned to Tokyo as soon as I could because Yoshiko and Masa were waiting for me for dinner.

And that wasn’t the last time I visited Japan. Nowadays, I live in Tottori City and hope to climb Mt. Fuji again one day.

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