Climbing Mount Fuji

Before I’d moved to Japan, and a few times after, people had asked me “If you’re going to be in Japan, are you planning on climbing Mount Fuji?” My answer was always an awkward laugh and a hard no. I’m not athletic, I’m not strong, and I’ve never ever been particularly active. So I surprised myself greatly last month by accomplishing probably the greatest feat so far in my life, and reaching the summit of the mountain.

I’m writing this post to share my experience, to hopefully encourage others who don’t think they could climb Fuji, but also to warn people to not make my mistakes. Because it was HARD. But so incredibly worth it. I struggled quite a bit, to be honest, but looking back I can see where I went wrong. Either way, it was the most amazing experience and I’d never been more proud of myself.

Firstly, I did not go alone. I climbed as part of a tour group which I affectionately called the Grandma Tour. It was made up of 30-or-so people, ranging from my age to Grandma-age, and entirely Japanese beyond my party.

My party was two fellow westerners, and my Japanese friend and coworker, who arranged the expedition.  The Grandma Tour was to take the easiest route up the mountain, starting at the popular station 5 and passing all the lodges and break spots on the way to our lodge, at station 8. We were to leave just after noon from station 5, reach our lodging at 5:30, rest until midnight, then climb to the summit for sunrise.

Station 5 is the popular send-off station, already on the mountain, and has shops and restaurants and even a shrine. In preparation for the climb, I went to the shrine and got this charm which I was told brings good health. The other thing I brought was a simple Mount Fuji baseball cap, as a fun souvenir and also because I had forgotten to bring a hat.

And we set off! Right from the get go, I noticed a couple of things about our party- Only we three westerners lacked walking sticks, and only we three foreigners wore running shoes instead of hiking boots. This would not prove to be a problem for some time, but if you’re planning a climb I could not recommend these things more.

The very beginning of the hike was actually my favourite. There were still trees, and it was a very foggy day, and the scene was absolutely beautiful. We were actually also quite lucky, as the day of our hike was an unseasonably cool day for late summer in Japan. That’s not to say it was cool, of course. Just nice and warm instead of blisteringly hot. Perfect for a hike!

After walking through some clouds and coming up above them, the trees started to disappear and the true climb began. Or rather, very steep hike. No part of the climb was actually that strenuous.

There were, as we climbed higher, some very rocky bits that could not simply be walked up. You had to use your hands to scramble up them in a maneuver I called “Spiderman-ing”. Our lovely tour director loved the term and our whole group started using it, saying things like “Get ready, there are some more Spiderman-ing rocks ahead!” or “Only one more Spiderman until our next break!”

That was the greatest thing about the Grandma Tour- we took small breaks all the time. I think this really helped me in adjusting to the altitude. Since it’s a pretty easy climb, a lot of people will rush right up it which can increase the likelihood of altitude sickness. I, somewhat amazingly, did not suffer from altitude sickness on this trip at all. That was pure like, though, because some more experienced climbers in my group did feel the sickness.

And all this climb I was feeling FANTASTIC. I was having fun, I was keeping up with my athletic friend no problem, and I was genuinely enjoying the physical activity. What I was not doing, however, was eating or drinking. I was taking sips of water or energy drink (I’d brought big bottles of both) every break, but not too much since I wanted to avoid the pay toilets. And I just wasn’t feeling hungry for my lunch or snacks, so didn’t bother with nibbling. This was a very bad choice because obviously you need to fuel your climb but, I would not pay for this mistake until later.

Because our Grandma Tour was so wonderfully slow paced, we arrived a the lodge at 6:30 instead of 5:00. I have no pictures of our lodge, because it seemed rude to take pictures of sleeping people. But the lodge was just that- rows on rows of people packed like sardines, snoozing. We first were given a nice little curry and rice dinner, and were then encouraged to settle in for a nap. I felt a tiny bit woozy in the stomach after the dinner, but a quick huff of oxygen from my friend’s oxygen jar set me right. (They sell oxygen all over the mountain, and I highly suggest you grab one, just in case. It’s an absolute lifesaver.)

Now from my understanding, most lodges have a very strict quiet policy so that people can sleep.  Our lodge did not seem to have any such regulation, because people were loudly chatting the entirety of the time we were there. Japanese people have a special talent that allows them to sleep instantly at any time, anywhere, but we foreigners were all completely unable to sleep because of this. We were tired, of course, but the odd hours plus the unyielding blabber didn’t bode well. I do think this was a very very unfortunate stroke of bad luck, though, because I’d only heard good things about the lodges from other western friends.

The group rose to finish the hike a bit after midnight. At this point, I was cold. Super cold. I had the largest backpack of the entire tour stuffed with my warm layers as well as my boyfriend’s winter ski jacket, all of which I was wearing, but I was still freezing. Was this the consequence of no food or sleep? I imagine so. But the last part of the walk was easy slow slopes, so I managed.

I think the night walking was my favourite. My gloved hands were still too cold to take pictures, but it was beautiful. All the Japanese climbers wore headlamps or had flashlights, creating a blazing trail of speckled light going up the side of the mountain, like a glittering snake. The stars beyond the mountain were beautiful. And looking out, you could see the city lights of Tokyo and Yokohama out on the far horizon.

And then, of course, the sun came up.

I’d never seen anything more amazing, or felt as accomplished as I did watching the summit being covered in a golden glow.

And here’s proof I was there!

The summit had a few shops and such, and our tour leader took us into one such building to warm up and eat some nice udon. This helped relieve my suffering for a while. There was then the option to have a tour around the summit (for a little extra money), or to head back down. Cold and tired and already as accomplished as I could ever feel, I chose to join the descending party.

And oh boy was that no fun at all.

Keeping in mind that I had no sleep, very little food, probably not enough water, and just climbed a mountain despite not being in peak physical shape, it should be no surprise that my body was just about done. But the trail back down was a very simple, incredibly steep zigzag back down the mountain.

It is  an estimated three hours to get down this trail. It took me over five. My legs just gave up. Walking down the slope hurt so, so badly I had to stop every few minutes. At first we were descending with a group, then me and my friends separated from them, and finally I had them leave me behind because I was moving so so slowly. Walking backwards really helped, or sideways, but holy heck did it take me a good struggle. I really bet those walking sticks would have been a lifesaver here.

A thousand thank yous to my dear dear Japanese friend, who stayed for the summit tour but left them behind because she wanted to RUN DOWN THE MOUNTAIN (seriously, fit people!), eventually found me sitting on a rock, and carried my backpack and gave me friendly encouragement to make it back. And so I did.

So that’s my story! That’s my Fuji adventure. Still can’t believe I did it. I’m incredibly proud of myself, even while remembering my frankly embarrassing hardships. But I did it! And I did it without vomiting, not even once. So that’s something. And now every time I see Fuji in the distance, or even in photos, I can say “I’ve been there! I’ve stood on top of that.” And that’s pretty amazing.