Alright, folks.
I know we've put a ton of hype into the Fuji post, and I hope we do not disappoint. Fuji was an adventure of epic proportions, complete with scrambling, yelling, getting lost, being broke, getting hurt, and encountering risk of
death itself (very minor risk).
Mark and Erik planned the following trip: check out of hotel Saturday and leave bags with the hotel, do some putzing around (we did sumo--see
the Tokyo post), bus to Fujisan station, bus to the 5th station (typical starting point for the hike, at 2300m elevation), hike up through the night, be there for the sunrise at the top, come back down, bus then train to Tokyo, swing by hotel and pick up bags, head to airport to go home. Easy, right?
We did some looking online and found lots of conflicting information about how to best get to Fuji. We worked with the concierge to solidify our plans--sadly, this hotel had a good number of folks whose English was almost as weak as our Japanese, so we had to wait until the last minute to get our favorite young lady whose English was excellent to help us out. As usual, she was awesome, but she
also lamented at the very conflicting information online. The major risk we were running into here was that the bus schedules changed after summer ended (it had officially ended 5 days before our climb), and were far, far less frequent. We decided we had a plan that would work, but without much slop time for mistakes. We went for it.
After sumo, we headed out. We headed to the biggest (and most confusing) station in western Tokyo, and eventually blundered our way to the bus station with some serious help. Oh, no! Bus was full for the time we wanted and the next. Alright, panic! Run to Japan Railway station (in the same area) and we got a train there. Great, time to get some cash. Oh, no! ATMs won't let our cards work?! They totally worked before... maybe our banks freaked out? Hm. No time! Go! We'll figure it out at Fuji! Alright, on our way!
We were a little tight for eating, so we munched on some odd snacks on the train, but that was okay. We transferred to a pretty bodunk little train that took us to Fujisan, and showed up... it was completely empty. Definitely no bus heading up at that time of night--the last one had left at 5pm. Oh, no!
We check with a few cabbies and they want an absurd amount of money to get up to the climbing point (known as
Gogome), which was... pretty much prohibitive. Mark had the great idea to run around to folks that had just gotten off the train with us and ask them if they were planning to climb that night.
Everyone else was planning to climb the next morning (they apparently planned much better than we did), but we did convince two awesome Hong Kong dudes named Joshua and Chun to cancel their hotel reservation, split the cab with us (still bloody expensive), and head up with us. We all hop into the cab, very excited, and we chat about US and Chinese politics, the Senkaku dispute, and all sorts of interesting stuff.
Once we get there, we get some head lamps and walkin' sticks (thank goodness they took credit cards) and get on our way. It's pleasantly cool, compared to the sweaty heat of the day further down at sea level, but we're told it's going to get bloody cold. Mark packed a jacket (
though started with his t-shirt) but Erik just plain hadn't brought one... we figured we'd be fine. Everyone else was tightly bundled up (and sweating at the bottom), but we figured Mark's Canadian upbringing and Erik's two winters in Fort Mac (sometimes down at -40 degrees) would have hardened us. For what it's worth, people definitely called us out as being crazy on our way up--this is true.
We started our trek quite happy along a pretty soft ascent. Erik thought, "this'll be easy," despite Mark's earlier warnings. For indeed, Erik been to Colorado Springs and did some hiking there... 9 years previous.
The ascent begins beautifully. It's dark and we can see
the countryside expand endlessly to the north and east. We knew the views at the top would be even more spectacular!
But after our
easy start, the
terrain turned tough. Usually it was 20+ degrees of grade, and sometimes up to 45. Pretty treacherous rocks made up much of the trail and had lots of opportunities to slide and fall with loose pebbles and loose foot-holds. Erik fell a few times and bumped his knees/shins, and it got worse as we got higher up. Altitude sickness started to set in, and
Erik started getting dizzy, short of breath, and losing his vision. Mark's Karate training was paying off--he was barely tired at this pace, and reflected that the last time he climbed, it was much easier. He said, "it'll get worse at the top," and this isn't what Erik wanted to hear. Erik wavered between dire grit/resignation and hopelessness, worried at some point he'd quit. Many people, as it turns out, hike up and sleep over at little shacks along the way to acclimate. Clever! Some bring oxygen tanks. Also clever! Not us, too tough for these and not enough time. Oi vey.
We lost Chun and Joshua pretty early--they'd brought some pretty heavy camera equipment to get some great shots at the top and struggled with it--we were on a tight timetable and had to boogie. There were 4 other
stations on the way up, and good places for rest, but we needed to rest more frequently than that (most people do). The altitude meant low oxygen and very fast/heavy build up of acid in the muscles. This meant quick exhaustion and lots of pain for those out of shape (like Erik). Along the stations,
lots of folks waited and caught their breath. We did some, but we had one of the toughest paces out there--we passed many and were very rarely re-passed by any of these folks. We emphasize here the pace, but let me be clear--it's suggested one takes close to 7 hours to hike this. It's 1500 meters up (to 3800), which is nearly twice as high as the
tallest building in the world. We set a pace of 5.5 hours and kept it. It was
hard, especially with those "death rocks" (as we called them) taking up more than half the hike. But everyone was friendly and in a mood of camaraderie and mutual respect for the climb, and we got to crack jokes with a few folks on the way up. Here's where we got the most jeering
for our outfits (
notice Mark's t-shirt and the folks around him all in jackets--already near freezing here). As we neared the top, we looked down and saw hundreds upon
hundreds of lights behind us--each upon the head of a climber. Many were parts of tours that paced them more moderately, and we did our best to pass them, although we likely shamed a few ancestors along the way. Climbers were young and old alike. We did not quite get smoked by any grannies as our guide book warned us, but they definitely looked like they were doing okay.
Anyway, just as Erik thought the climb would
never end and he might just die as he passed out and tumbled down the mountain, there it was--the top.
Erik and
Mark made sure to get pictures at the gate at the top, but then we were there! Sadly, the famous udon noodle place was not open, which was sad. But now that we weren't moving, we started getting... really cold. Sweat that we'd built up started to make it much worse, and we had little at best to keep us warm.
Mark put on his jacket and donated a second shirt to Erik, so he now had a t-shirt and
two long-sleeve shirts. It... wasn't enough. We were both so stupidly cold that we each actually put
shorts upon
our heads to keep the blistering wind off. We looked silly but it was quite worth it.
But ah, then!
The moment we came for, that made it all more-than worth it!
The sunrise! We will post a few photos here, but you should really just go see the whole album (link at the bottom of the post). By gods, they should have sent poets and not us! The
horizon turned to
blood as the sun
came forth, and the great clouds in front were as
nebulae, or as
starships burning from a
great war in the sky, as lightning crackled through them (there was lightning!), their innards exploding and slowly, slowly disintegrating as steel trusses groaned and snapped. Never have we seen such a sight! Our
comrade onlookers waited with us
in anticipation as the
landscape below began to
light up and breathe in the day, as red turned to
yellow and to white, as the
rays of the sun crept forth from behind our great nebula and, at last, as
the sun itself burst forth, to
great cheering and delight. Wonderful.
Very much worth it and very much recommended. Make sure to plan well, though, and get in shape.
We caught up with Joshua, who found us as the two weird white dudes with pants on our heads, so that was pretty easy for him. Sadly, he left Chun behind, who ran out of steam and decided to take photos from about 3/4 the way up, which should still yield some great results. We will post if we get a link.
We started our
descent! The land below
grew to day as the hour passed 6:00AM. We had 2.5 hours to make it--more than twice as fast as the way up, which was cardiovascularly much easier than going up... but we still had those
death rocks to deal with. But ultimately, we got into a good groove here and said "good morning!" (in Japanese) on the way down to the day-climbers coming up. Remember we just pulled an all-nighter and were starting to get tired.
We got to the base and scrambled for a good hour to figure out when the bus was coming. A schedule was posted, and it looked like we'd be fine. But, oh no! That was the summer schedule! A deep exploration with someone who spoke both English and Japanese quite well revealed that the "off-season" bus schedule meant the next bus was going to be 90 minutes later than the one we wanted...
Between that and another mega-expensive cab, we decided to wait and take our chances. The math seemed pretty good.
At that point, we
still had no cash, and needed Y3000 to get on the bus (luckily, we already had return train tickets). Turns out there's no ATM at the entire site there, despite something like 5 restaurants and a few shops. So (Mark's idea) we ran around looking for any Americans we could find that would take USD in exchange for some Yen. We happened upon two Canadians, and Mark was able to commiserate with them well enough that they were willing to trade Yen to USD at (approximate) cost. Thank you, to them! So we had money. Great.
We hopped on the bus (after much stress over whether we were going to even fit, given the line) after some udon at a local restaurant and were on our way. Mark napped and Erik kept post. At the train station, we boarded the next train (the bus ride was longer than we calculated due to many stops on the way down--in which
nobody got off--and we were already way too deep into our meager slop time), where Erik napped.
We had to transfer and had just missed the last every-hour train back to Tokyo. So we had a wait in front of us. As we recalculated our timing we realized we... might well be in trouble. Lots of trouble. Mark called our concierge and asked about the fastest possible options to get to Narita airport from the hotel, but all looked bleak indeed. Our anxiety rose (though Mark kept his cool) and we were told our best bet was to take the 2:00pm fast-train out of Uneda station.
So we concocted a plan at this point: we'd get back to the western station, train to the hotel. We'd then need to
sprint to the hotel, grab our bags, and have a cab take us back to a subway station and we'd be off. But, sweet Moses, the train was late. In Tokyo! A late train! This never happens! Ever! But to us, it did! We re-calculated and decided we still had a fleeting chance at the 2:30PM (according to the concierge). Erik, with no checked bags, would likely be okay, but for Mark... we would have to try to convince Air Canada to take his checked bag late and let him on the plane. We went through options to possibly turn his checked back into a carry-on if we missed that cut-off, but it wasn't to be. We'd just have to beg.
Erik napped on the second train and when we arrived in Tokyo, we started on our quest. In full-sprint, we looked for the Tokyo Metro at the station here. Sadly, the station had about a billion places to find buses, long-distance trains, etc, but the Tokyo Metro station was not to be found. We sprinted and yelled at each other about whether we were going the right way, and kept stopping to ask for directions. Even the locals were confused and didn't have a good idea as to where this place was. Finally, we found a pretty old dude in a suite who ran full-tilt with us to point us to it. We thanked him profusely and threw ourselves onto the train, more than 15 minutes after we'd arrived. On the way back to the hotel, we realized that Mark's chances of making the flight were tiny at this point, and alas, there were no delays.
Per plan, once we'd reached our hotel's station, Erik sprinted full speed the half-mile to the hotel itself, and Mark grabbed a cab. Thank-goodness, they had our bags ready to go and Mark's cab rolled up just as Erik had pulled them out in front of the hotel. The cab got us where we needed to go, and (also thank-goodness) we had enough cash on hand to pay him, but little else.
We took the Metro to Uneda, and Erik and Mark split once more. Erik took all the bags and Mark sprinted full-speed to get to the ticket counter and buy us tickets. It might work! It might!
Nope.
Turns out
there was no 2:30 train. We and concierge thought there was, but no, the next high-speed train was 3:00. At this point, we knew for sure that Mark wasn't going to make it. The train would get us to the airport at 3:24 for a 4:00 flight, and checking a bag just wasn't going to happen. We focused on getting Erik to his flight, since he had work on Monday (plan was to land around midnight in Saint John and be ready for work at 6am the next day).
Still exhausted from the all-nighter, Erik dashed off like a maniac once he reached the airport. He had to re-print his boarding pass (ugh) but zipped through security from expertise gained from 3 years of flying every week. Seeing victory, Erik zipped to the immigration line, which he knew would certainly be short and efficient. But... nope. Used to quick Canadian/American customs as a Nexus holder, Erik was not prepared for the 40+ person line ahead of him. Knowing it was his only chance, he shamed his ancestors further by begging, pleading each person in front of him to let him advance. About halfway up, a pretty authoritative Japanese man just walked Erik to the front of the line and announced, in both Japanese and English, that Erik was late and was going to the front (and implied they could all go shove it if they didn't like it). Erik, embarrassed as hell, nonetheless gratefully accepted and got through, then sprinting for another 5 minutes to the gate. At 3:49 he arrived, as the loudspeaker was calling his name and threatening to close the door. By some great grace, Erik stumbled into the flight, sweaty and exhausted. Good news was that we used his copious miles to get a seat in business class, so Erik was able to get dinner and some wine, and then go full-flat (heck yes) and sleep to Toronto. He made his connection, slept again, and awoke in Saint John well-rested (from about 12 hours of sleeping) and without any jet-lag at all. Really. Actually ended up quite well.
Mark, through his own skills with people and the grace of Japan's service culture, was able to get a flight that left--and landed--an hour later, for
no charge at all. Another great sleep in business class for him, and he was ready for Passover dinner with his family.
Somehow, despite all the madness, poor planning, and general disaster, we all made it home okay. Thus ended a truly crazy ending to our East Asian adventure. Hope you all enjoyed.
PHOTOS:
Scaling Fuji!
