Fuji-san

So, after starting out our day with a little sushi at 6:30 (we woke up at 4:30) and having a quick mid-morning nap, we headed out of Shinjuku station on a Highway Express Bus bound for Yamanaguchi (aka "Gateway Fujiyama").

From there we hopped a local bus to drive about halfway up Fuji-san, where we began our climb at the 5th Station at about 4 in the afternoon.

The going seemed a little too easy initially, as the path was headed downhill, but the hoards of haggard hikers shuffling towards us indicated that we were on the right track (no pun intended).

Our goal was to hike about 4 hours, to Station 8, where we had a reservation at the Fujisan Hotel ("hotel" is being used loosely in this case). However, the rain gods had other plans in store for us.

Not just rain, but hail--pea-sized hail, and buckets of it, as evidenced by Jessica's extensive bruising (pictures of her pock-marked bruising forthcoming). Our hail-hike took a little over an hour, and the abuse only came to an end when friendly Aki offered us a bed in his mountain hut at the 7th Station at about 6 pm.

After a quick, delicious meal of Japanese curry and rice, we hit the sack for a few hours, our drenched gear hanging over the little fireplace to dry while the other hikers sat around and cured our longjohns with cigarette smoke.

About 5 (sleepless for Jessica, restful for me) hours later, we woke up to tackle the rest of the hike, hoping to make it to the summit by sunrise at 4:15 am. We almost made it. However, our plan had been derailed by our little hail misadventure, and it was not to be. Despite doggedly dragging ourselves up the mountain for 3 hours, we were almost an hour short of making to the top for the first rays of light peaking over the horizon. No matter, it was beautiful from 100 meters below.

Thanks to Aki, despite running out of money after paying for our night's accommodations, we had Bento box "lunches" (at 5 in the morning) of some canned mystery meat and rice to eat on the summit, which had a tiny village of sorts catering to the exhausted hikers who made it that far. I was warned of this "bazaar" on the summit, but I actually found it rather charming in a weird Japanese way. Of course there is a store on the top of the tallest mountain in Japan. It's Japan.

If my sore legs and the faces of those around me were any indication, Fuji is a bigger undertaking than most realize when they start up it. In short, it's no joke. I felt like someone climbing Everest, taking one baby step every couple seconds. But at least I was experiencing some sort of hiker's high for much of the climb. Jessica didn't fare as well. She was unable to speak at one point, but she pushed through to the finish in impressive fashion. I think she's still recovering. She's currently passed out so hard that she didn't hear me knocking on the door of our room and I had to get the lady from the front desk let me back in.

Last night we both crashed in our hostel in Tokyo. Without thinking too clearly about what we were doing, we put all of our clothes in the washing machine and then promptly decided it was a good time to go to dinner...I ended up wearing my long underwear bottoms and my raincoat, and Jessica wore a tank top and a skirt made of a sheet wrapped around her waist.

The batteries in both of our cameras broke within a few hours of each other, so all my pics of Fuji are on the iPhone. You'll just have to wait.