When we heard the news that we were moving to Japan, George and I sat down and brainstormed about everything we knew of our soon to be home. We knew they used chopsticks, and spoke Japanese. We knew it was an island, and what their flag looked like, and we knew what a kamikaze shot was. We also knew about Mt. Fuji. We knew it was a volcano, but I’m pretty sure I even googled that night to ensure it wasn’t an active volcano. (It’s not.)
Upon our arrival in Japan we learned that you could see Mt. Fuji from the base. I was enthralled with this idea. One week went by, and then a second, and a third. A month, two months, maybe even three passed by with no sightings of the great Fuji-san. I was convinced that it had all been a hoax; a joke to play on newcomers to the base. “Very funny” I thought, but really felt “very disappointing.” Just when I’d given up hope that Fuji-san even existed, one day when were in Yokohama (an hour and a half away by train) we were at the top of a building and we saw a Japanese couple pointing out the window and saying “Ooooh! Fuji-san!” And they pointed it out to us, and it was peeking out from behind the clouds. And I was instantly, and I mean instantly, in love.
We got back to the base that afternoon and were driving around the flightline. We both turned our heads at the same time to look at the mountain range we see daily, and there it was. Fuji-san. In her glory. Just staring at us. Massive, and truly breathtakingly beautiful.
So the talk began of climbing Mt. Fuji. The conquering of the feat quickly rose on our list of things to do while living in Japan. When George deployed we agreed to get in shape for many reasons: to lose weight, be healthier, be able to run together and to be able to climb Mt. Fuji this summer. George got in shape, losing 25lbs during those 4 months, and since his homecoming he runs about 4 miles daily, just for fun. I gained 6lbs while he was gone, and struggle walking up our one flight of stairs with groceries. Since his return in June, about once a week, he’d say “Still climbing Fuji this summer?” And I’d say yes, and go to the gym that day… and then resume my semi-sedentary life style. And then all of a sudden... it was August. Where the summer went? I have no idea, but it seemed to fly by. So we agreed to climb Fuji on Saturday night. The plan was to both work Friday (I was nanny-ing for a sweet family on the base), and then sleep in really late on Saturday to be prepared for our night climb up Fuji with a group of friends.
Problem was we somehow forgot about this whole military life we live where you hear news at the drop of a hat, and life changes. So Friday morning at 9am George sends me a text that says “I need you to call me asap.” Crap. I don’t care much for texts like that!!! He says he got put on a TDY leaving first thing Sunday morning. So we can’t climb Fuji Saturday night. So he suggests we either do it next summer, or we do it tonight. I laugh, and of course think next summer is our only option. I only slept 6 hours the night before and anyone who has ever met me knows I need a lot of sleep to function properly. So we get off the phone agreeing to do it next summer. Two hours go by, and I get another text. “I’m going tonight to climb fuji, you should still go tomorrow. I promise I will go with you next year.” Crap. Nobody in their right mind climbs Fuji more than once. I go back and forth on this for the next couple of hours. What should I do? Climb it tonight when I’m miserably tired and mentally unprepared but do it with my husband? Or go the next night with the friends I had originally planned on? Or just let him go tonight, and pray he has a good enough time that he wants to do it again with me next summer, when I’m in better shape?
Eventually I agree to go tonight. Why not? It’s our shot. It’s only advisable to climb Fuji in the months of July and August because it’s snow covered almost year round, and we have plans every weekend until the end of August. So I agree. I swing by Outdoor Rec after lunch and I see George’s car in the parking lot just as I’m about to call him and tell him I’ve decided to go. I go inside and he says “You’re going? But there isn’t room for you! I invited other people.” So my reaction is anger. How couldn’t it be? “I’m going. You can make room for me.” He clarified that of course he wanted me to go, he wanted to do it with me. So we decide we’ll take my car that seats 7. We rented rain pants, boots, gators, and headlamps. (And I got a can of oxygen) At 4pm when I’m done with the baby I head home and packed up snacks, a first aid kit, got my jacket ready, and George filled up our Camelbak’s full of water.
Mel, DJ, Kevin and Erol met us at our house and after a stop at the ATM and gas station we were on the road by 6:45ish. I had imagined everyone would want to be just like me and nap in the car on the drive out there; after all, everyone worked that day too. How wrong I was. Everyone was pumped. Super excited, and chatty. There was no sleeping in the car. We drove out to the Mt. Fuji train station and parked there, and then took a bus an hour or so the fifth station. It’s as far up as you can drive a car. We bought our walking sticks, paid our 50Yen to use the bathroom, and stretched a little bit. Mel and I noticed a group of Japanese girls similar to our age stretching. They were chanting as they stretched and giggling. It looked like fun! So we got brave and joined them. They humored us for one round of chanting and stretching and we thanked them. Japan never ceases to offer us entertainment.
Rule number 18: Limber Up!!!
We start walking at 9:50pm Friday night. The walk is simple enough for the first 10 minutes, and then we hit the trail head. And it points up. And within those first 20 minutes Kevin, Erol, Mel and DJ are almost out of sight. I’m huffing. And puffing. And struggling. The air is thin already, and again—I am OUT. OF. SHAPE. They stop for me and wait, and I feel SO guilty. I really hate to be the reason to slow everyone else down. I explain this to them and they were all so nice about it. George sees how bad I’m struggling (don’t think he was really surprised) and he took my backpack from me. What a guy. He would have carried my water too if that wasn’t such a big part of my survival for the next 7 hours. Somewhere in that first hour I turned on my iPod and it was such a huge motivation. Throughout the hike I listened to Taylor Swift’s Speak Now album, Alanis Morisette’s Jagged Little Pill, and Ashlee Simpson’s Autobiography. I just needed a little “girl power.” As those came to an end, I finally selected the Beatles as the artist and hit shuffle. All 300+ songs shuffled about, and they were so energizing. It gave me a beat to walk to, and I think without that, it would have been a much more difficult accomplishment.
We reached the 6th and 7th stations pretty quickly. I think we were making great time, in spite of my slowness. Each station is like a checkpoint, where you can get a stamp on your stick. The sticks are wooden, with bells and flags on them, and in my opinion is the greatest souvenir you can take back with you from Japan. There is nothing I wanted more than that stick and those stamps. Each stamp was 200Yen, and we both got 16 stamps. It was pricy. Plus we paid 1,000Yen each per stick. Plus anywhere between 50-300yen for each bathroom break! We sweated enough to not have to go too often though.
At each station as I’d arrive, the other 4 would be ready to take off again. I felt like in those 7 hours I never had a chance to catch my breath. My deep breaths never subsided. Once. It was a strange feeling, and I almost felt like I knew what it would be like to be an astronaut. Around the 7th station I started to see people using oxygen cans. I was so envious of them, so I finally broke down and took my first pump of oxygen. I was really glad I brought the can with me. Even with the oxygen though, I never felt completed energized. I had a couple spouts of dizziness, lots of tiredness, and moments of doubt if I’d make it to the top. George never faltered to be an incredible support. We had a few tiffs when we climbed the Great Wall of China back in November (check out that post here http://chelseametros.blogspot.com/2010/12/long-awaited-continuance-of-china.html), but we never got upset with each other once on this trip. He was caring and understanding and I really feel like it was a strengthening experience for our relationship.
I don’t know how to explain the climb. It was incredibly difficult. Steep. Challenging. The changes in terrain were abrupt. You’d go from a steep almost dirt path to suddenly climbing over boulders. The path started out with us feeling like we were the only ones on the mountain and the number of people increased with time. I don’t know where they came from! We passed a lot of people, but were passed by others too. My least favorite was when the children that would pass me. I’d say we saw about 10 kids the whole time, if that. Stupid overachiever kids.
I feel like there is more to say about the climb up, but really, now, 24 hours later, it’s a blur. It sucked. But it was incredible to look down at the towns below us with all of their lights. It was incredible to see the stars. And I mean incredible. Living in Tokyo doesn’t offer us the opportunity to see many stars, but on this mountain, they were there. In general, this was just a spiritual experience. When I’d start feeling down and like I couldn’t make it to the top, I’d see one spectacular purple flower. You can only see what your headlamp is pointing at, and my eyes would drift to the one flower. And it was funny, because it made me feel like God put this mountain here for a reason. He wanted to challenge his people, but didn’t forget to add those little details like a flower for the weary. The greenery that survived at that altitude was one of the things that impressed me the most.
As we hit one of the last stations before the top (5 and a half-ish hours into this hike) it felt like we were going to make it with plenty of time to see the sun rise. And then we hit a traffic jam. The higher we went, the steeper, rockier and more narrow the path was. And the more tour groups we ran into. These tour groups would stop on the trail and let everyone in their group catch up, which would result in making everyone else on the trail halt to a standstill. At this point the other 4 in our group were far ahead of us and we were sure they’d beat us to the top! George and I had gotten so frustrated with standing around behind the giant tour groups that we began climbing around them, sometimes even stepping off the trail to do so. As the hours neared 4am, we were really hoping to make it to the top before sunrise, but were sure we’d miss it, and our 4 ahead of us would beat us up there! Then we saw them! We had managed to catch them during our passing of everyone. So we all reached the top within a few minutes of each other. As Twist and Shout came onto my iPod you couldn’t help but smile. We made it. I was alive. And I was at the top of Mt. Fuji!!!
I was so exhausted. I had imagined I would’ve cried when I reached the top. But my body wouldn't let me. I was too tired. We watched the sun come up and then I curled up into a ball and allowed myself to sleep for about half an hour. It was cold, and I was glad I had a hat, and gloves. We had the breakfast of champions at the top of Mt. Fuji as the sun continued to rise. The bowl of hot ramen was tasty but a few bites in I began to not feel so well. I spent the next hour and a half in the bathroom. I’m not one to discuss any tummy issues I have because I feel it isn’t very ladylike, so let’s just say I felt really sick. I’m not sure if it was altitude sickness (I don’t think so), or if it was something I ate, or if it was because I was dehydrated (I drank a ton of water though), but I know I didn’t feel well! It really took away the appeal of the top of the mountain. Instead of really taking in the top and exploring around the crater, I had to just take care of myself.
Once I felt a little settled, I drank half of a 5 hour energy drink, and it really did give me the boost I needed. It didn’t make me feel jittery, but did make me feel a little more awake and energized for the walk down. The sun was up, the temperature was rising (it was probably 40 degrees at the top, it was cold, and windy!) and our spirits were relatively high. The hike back down was a new level of difficult. Instead of using your thighs to go up, up, and higher up, you used your knees and toes to keep from sliding down the mountain. We dug into the gravelly rocks with our heels, and braced with our sticks. There was a lot of sliding and slipping and I was SO grateful we didn’t have any rain on this hike because the way down would have been so much worse if it had been muddy!!! It took us just under 4 hours to make it to the bottom of the mountain, and get on the bus. We stopped much less for breaks, and I still can’t decide if the hike up, or hike down was worse. I think going up was certainly more physically and mentally demanding, but on the way down my body was so tired and energy was depleted enough to really struggle. And I was getting blisters on my feet at that point. I came out of the event with a total of six blisters. Four on my right foot, one on my left food, and one on my ring finger where my wedding rings were! My hands had swollen so much that my rings had dug into my hand and rubbed it raw. Weird!
We had a few odd experiences on the way down. One of them was when we saw a handful of steamrollers going up the mountain. And we saw one bulldozer. The path down was much different than up and was like sliding on marbles and golf balls for 4 hours, so we were pretty surprised to see the heavy equipment going up the mountain! At this one particular turn on the mountain the bulldozer was coming up and needed to turn on this path. Well, there was one lady who felt that bulldozer was in her way (or something) and tried to walk underneath the bucket of it. I’ve never heard so many people yell and gasp at the same time. She seriously almost got smoked (Tribute to you, Kyle!)
We made it. We did it. I accomplished something most people never will. And I’m only 23. It was an extraordinary experience that I wouldn’t trade for the world. I’m so glad George and I did it together. What a blessing to have him to push me into these crazy adventures. We do balance each other out so well, and I just love that guy so much. I mean, he carried my backpack up the mountain. What a guy.
I truly understand the meaning of the phrase “Land of the Rising Sun” now. I’m sure my love affair with Mt. Fuji will continue for the rest of my life. Currently, as I sit on the couch crippled with pain and soreness from my toes to my head, the idea of that mountain makes me sick. The next time we have a clear day on the base, and I see that iconic mountain sitting there so grounded and powerful, I’ll probably have a good cry, and the respect for each other will be mutual. I conquered it. George conquered it. And we did it together. And for us, that is enough. It’s just another thing on our lifelong journey together to cross off the list, but it was awesome.
In the car on the way home George was the only one out of the 6 of us that said he’d do it again. There were dollar amounts thrown around about how much we’d climb it for. George said he’d do it for free in the next couple of days after a good meal, sleep and a shower. I think the next lowest bidder was $4,000. Someone said they’d do it for $7,000. I’m pretty sure you could write me a check for $10,000 and I’d laugh in your face. I would never do it again, but I wouldn’t trade the experience I had for the world. I’d maybe do it again for $100,000. Minimum. And that’s a BIG maybe. That being said, if you live here in Japan, or come to visit and you don’t do it… you suck. You’re missing out on a spiritual, physical and mental feat. Just do it. You won’t regret it. I promise.
Tokyo Time