Climbing Mount Fuji Part 2

If you haven't yet read the first part of the Fuji story, I encourage you to scroll down or click here.

From where I left off, I'd say we're only about 2-3 hours into our group trek which started from the 5th station. But Priscilla and I have been going since morning, and have hiked up 2/3rds the mountain for about 6 hours before meeting the rest of the group. Everyone's spirits are still high; I've kept us at a relatively slow pace. Many times, I have to rebuke Wei or Brian from going too fast and possibly leaving me behind. Wei always has so much energy. In the train stations, he's always bounding ahead of everyone sprinting up the stairs. I think he just likes running. Anyway, around 10pm or so, we reach the 7th station. Beforehand, we agreed we'd take an extended break here since after this station is where people are most likely to suffer from altitude sickness. Though my headache was still bothering me, I was really hoping it was just dehydration and not altitude sickness. I went ahead and bought more water, while prices were relatively cheap, at 300 yen a bottle. We find a few empty seats on a bench and the rest of us stand or sit on the ground.


The group at the 7th station!


Wei, Adam and Sandy were still pretty happy at this point.


Looks like I wasn't the only one napping.

I'll take this chance to discuss the bathrooms that you find on Mt. Fuji. You see, hundreds of thousands of people climb Mt. Fuji each year, so it really just wouldn't do to have people piss off the side of the mountain. Besides, what are the girls gonna do? So at each station, they have running water and real toilets. On a mountain. Of course, just to get the water up there, not even considering construction costs, is a huge ordeal since you can only take it up on foot, or on horseback. So, they charge for the bathrooms. Well, they don't exactly enforce it, but they have boxes outside the bathrooms that as for a 100 yen donation. That's right, a dollar just to use the bathroom. Sounds rather outrageous, doesn't it? But honestly, once I walked inside the bathroom, I understood why. In Japan in general, their bathrooms are immaculate by American standards. And even on Mt. Fuji, the cleanliness easily surpasses the average American public toilet. So, yeah, the bathrooms were expensive. But I don't even want to think about what kind of state they would be in if they didn't have donations, and I gladly drop my hyaku en coin in the slot. I'm paying so much money to buy their water, and I'm paying to get rid of it too. Great business model.

I'll get my mouth out of the potty now. At the 7th station, I take a seat on the ground, keep chugging the H20, and attempt to take a little nap. I'm less than successful though, and soon enough I figure it's time to go again. We set off for the 8th station, and we realize that the crowds have at least doubled. We're stuck behind this 50 person tour group, with the guide blocking the exit to the station, only letting his tour members through. It was a bit irksome to say the least, and from this point on, it was relatively slow-going. The main reason for the holdup was that the terrain had suddenly changed. Well it was still lots of grey volcanic ash and rocks, but it had gotten much steeper. Instead of being able to simply walk on a slightly inclined gravel path, we were forced to climb over huge rocks and makeshift steps. In order to make it up, you had to keep low, and many times get down on all fours to make sure you didn't slip. Gloves were so clutch at this point, as was a headlamp so I could use both hands. At the sections where the trail narrowed, the going got pretty slow while waiting for people ahead of you. In a group of 8, in the dark, it was a non-trivial task to stay together. Luckily, our group members were conscious enough to make regular roll calls to ensure no one fell off the mountain or anything. A few minutes into climbing again, I found myself rather enjoying the treacherous paths, seeing them as challenges, trying to scale the tougher paths on the sides, all the while keeping an eye on my fellow group members. I think the rest I took at the 7th station along with all the water I drank (I counted, and it took me almost 2 minutes to empty all that water in the bathroom in each of the last 2 stations, btw, I'm sure you're glad I shared that) had finally paid off, my headache was minimal, and I felt like I had a second wind.


Getting down on all fours was necessary to avoid falling off the mountain.

Looking up towards the top, the zigzag parade of lights representing our fellow pilgrims seemed to stretch on forever. Looking back down the mountain provided a hazy view of faint city lights. At one point we even saw some fireworks going off in the distance. They seemed so tiny, instead of filling the entire sky above you, each explosion was like a tiny spark in the background that bloomed into miniscule fire-flowers of red, blue, and green in the distance. Above in the sky, a kaleidoscope of stars had erupted into intricate patterns of light that were unfamiliar to me, as I had never seen the stars from this hemisphere before. I suddenly felt that, in comparison, our grand adventure to climb the gigantic Mt. Fuji, suddenly didn't seem as grand as before. Suddenly, a loud scraping sound fills my ears, and I realize my foot slipped on one of the rocks that wasn't quite as steady as it seemed. Feeling my momentum carrying me backwards, I lash out a gloved hand to regain my balance and prevent me from crashing into Sandy who was climbing behind me. Note to self: Only admire the scenery when you're stationary.

As midnight approaches, we've climbed for nearly 2 hours with only short breaks to regroup, and I realize that it's been over 12 hours since I began my journey with Priscilla from the bottom of the mountain. At this point, I remember Will (the guy we met at the bottom who had climbed Fuji once before) telling me that from the 8th station up it took him 4 hours, and he was going at a pretty good pace. Originally, our goal was to make it to the top by sunrise. We had about 4.5 hours. It was gonna be tough, but I still thought we could make it. We take another break here, not as long as the last one though. It's tough to find places to stand/sit so we can get out of people's way - that's how crowded it's getting. We peer inside the huts at the station where they sell food. You can also go inside to stay warm, but you have to buy a bowl of their cup ramen which cost something like 600 yen or so. Some people even pay to sleep in the huts. Ha, sleep? Who needs it?


Brian leads the way to the 8th station, and pauses below the torii.


All of us at the torii by the 8th station.



Jerry is having some back problems, and requests someone to punch him in the back. Brian happily obliges him.

Again slowed by the continuous stream of people, we finally see an opening in the line and all dash to insert ourselves in it. Grabbing on to each others backpacks, we ensure no one is going to split us up - at least not at first. The terrain is similar to that of before, a mixture of rocks to clamber over and steep paths of gravel that you might slip on. I generally gravitate towards the side of the trail where the side of the mountain forms a little wall that helps me keep my balance, though often the slowest people stayed on that side, and it was getting more difficult for our group to stay together. When the trail shrank so thin that people in front of me stopped moving, I felt like I was stuck in rush hour traffic. I contemplated "changing lanes," but realized up ahead that the other lanes came to a standstill as well. It was around 1:30am at this point, and we still hadn't made it to the 9th station yet. It was reminiscent of my overcrowded high school's hallways, where you had a solid wall of people in front of you, and it was impossible to get through. Or a line for a ride at Disneyland: it was literally that slow. You would see people take maybe one or two steps at a time and then stop for a whole minute or more before you could take another tiny step. I was pretty frustrated, I knew we could get up sooner, but due to the crowd, it was impossible to get past them without crossing the safety boundaries and going around. And with the level of oxygen decreasing my ability to think with each step, I decided against that. Looking ahead, I also saw that Sandy and I had lost the rest of the group. And it was impossible to find them until we got to the next station since they couldn't really hold up traffic any more just to wait for us, and we couldn't penetrate the mass of people in order to find them, either. So, step by step, we made the laboriously slow trek towards the 9th station.

But this was no time to let my guard down. Without warning, I heard a loud rumble of rocks falling and looking ahead of me, I see a cascade of people fall to the ground like dominoes as the rocks they're standing on slide from beneath their feet. They collapse only to knock down the person behind them, and the chain of falling people was rapidly approaching. Instinctively I grab the rock wall I was next to, and grab Sandy as well, since she couldn't reach the wall. Luckily, the mini rock slide seemed to stop a few feet in front of us. People gradually get up and start moving again - even slower this time, if that's even possible. Fortunately, it seemed no one was seriously hurt, but, that wouldn't be the last time we're endangered by falling rocks. We finally join the others at the station 8c with no further ordeals. I think that was the station at least, they had numerous stations labelled 8 and 9 (I think). At this point, I can feel the wind whipping through my hair, penetrating the makeshift beanie on my head constructed by a towel - as per the local Japanese trend. From all the sources I heard from about Mt. Fuji, they all warned to carry lots of warm clothes. Now, with the time approaching 3am, and us being about 10,600 feet above sea level, I truly understood. We took shelter near the bathrooms and emptied our backpacks of all the layers of clothing we brought. I removed my outer jacket and the wind hit me like a wall of ice. I hurriedly added the other 2 layers, an extra sweater and fleece, and ended up with 5 layers total. I put my hood on and tied it tight, limiting my peripheral vision, but keeping my precious ears warm and not allowing any more heat to escape from my head. Many of us were trying to combat the cold by moving around, I did a few jumping jacks - anything to generate more heat. Filling up on food and water again, we were anxious to get moving and hopefully warm our bodies up more.

At this point, my memory gets a little fuzzy. My second wind had died down to less than a gentle breeze. We saw a sign that said we were only 500 meters from the top. We tried to pump each other up, get ready for the last leg of the journey. Unfortunately, Adam, among others, kept lamenting the fact that Mt. Fuji was "owning" us, as evidenced by the extreme cold, and the paths only got steeper as we got closer to the top. I tried to focus on the task at hand, just put one foot in front of the other. Repeat. So simple, but I was losing it. The lack of sleep had finally caught up to me. It was a constant struggle just to stay awake as I lagged behind the rest of the group. I was frustrated once again. My body actually felt fine still. My legs could go on for hours. But my mind was failing me, in no short part to the fact that the oxygen levels were only about 80%-90% of what they are at sea level. I was glad I wasn't climbing alone. At this point, I was considering giving up, at least temporarily, and just collapsing along the side of the path, as we saw many people already stopping for rest. Yet, with encouragement from the rest of the team, in the form of their gradually disappearing backpacks ahead of me, I redoubled my efforts and trudged forward.


Almost there. We look so happy at this point, but I'm not sure why.

At long last, I know at some point we reached the 9th station, well the final 9th station before the top. The peak was soon approaching; at least we wanted to think that. I don't think I was the only one in the group who was having a tough time at this point. In fact, it seemed everyone was already rather exhausted. Around 4am, we could see the sky begin to brighten slightly. The sun was due to rise in about 30 minutes. We walked maybe 10 minutes past the 9th station when we paused and looked around us. Many people had stopped climbing and had found "comfortable" spots alongside the trail to rest and watch the sunrise from. I don't know who asked, but someone suggested just stopping here for now so we can watch the sunrise. I didn't respond verbally as others simply plopped down their backpacks and took a seat. I followed suit, and took it a step further. I attempted to transform my backpack into a makeshift pillow and laid down among rocks that were on average the size of a baseball or grapefruit, but not nearly as smooth. Adjusting myself to get as comfortable as possible, I tried to pluck the stabbing rocks out from behind my back, but no matter how many I removed there was always a new sharp edge waiting to dig into my skin. Defeated, I gave up and crossed my arms across my chest, futilely trying to stay warm. I should have been disappointed; we missed our goal of making it to the top by just a few hundred meters. But I wasn't. My mind was too concentrated on the piercing cold and daggers in my back. I knew if I wanted any hope to make it to the top, I'd have to try and get some rest. As I closed my eyes, I felt alone atop this wretched mountain and since my mind could do nothing else, I quietly slipped into darkness.

Will we make it to the top? Tune in tomorrow to your regularly scheduled broadcast, and find out! No fair cheating and looking at the pictures either!

Update: I've now posted the Final Part of the story!

Climbing Mount Fuji Part 1

Mount Fuji stands as the tallest mountain in Japan, measuring 12,388 feet from sea level. It's a currently dormant volcano, and it draws plenty of visitors during its open climbing season during July and August. When I knew I was going to study abroad in Japan, I also knew I was going to climb Mt. Fuji. Why are mountains put there? To climb, of course.


You might remember this picture of Mt. Fuji I took from the plane back in April.

Now I've had some mountain climbing experience, including Mt. Shavano in Colorado, which is actually 14,236 feet hight at age 14 with my Boy Scout troop. Now the thing about that trip was that we climbed it over a period of 2 days, and got to sleep in nice tents halfway up. That time, some of my friends got altitude sickness on the second day up to the peak. Some of the leaders stayed behind, and only half of us made it all the way to the top. Most recently, I scaled Half Dome which is 8842 feet in Yosemite on a dorm camping trip in 2004. We had to start pretty early in the morning, I think around 6 or 7 to be sure to make it down before dark. This time, the group also split, and half of us made it to the top while others didn't.

Back to Mt. Fuji. I figured since I was 14 years old when I climbed a 14er, and now since I'm now 21, I figured I could probably take on Mt. McKinley which is almost 21,000 feet. And Fuji-san (as they call it in Japanese) is only a mere 12,000 feet high or so. No sweat. I wasn't really worried though many of my friends who I was going to climb with were a little nervous after hearing stories from their co-workers and reading articles online. Out of everyone in the group, I'd say that Priscilla was the most gung-ho about climbing Fuji-san. So excited, in fact, that she wanted to climb it from the base of the mountain. Most people start climbing Fuji from "gogo-me" meaning the 5th station, which is really already 2/3 up the mountain. But I'm always looking for a challenge and since Priscilla's determination never wavered, we ended up leaving about 8 hours before the others to climb from the base and meet everyone else at the 5th station. My main mistake at this time, I realized was that I had gotten very little sleep before. We were going to climb starting Saturday morning, and Since Thursday night, I had gotten a total of only 8 or 9 hours in those 2 nights before climbing. How long would I last?

So Priscilla and I caught a series of trains beginning at 7am, and we made it to Fujiyoshida around 10:30 or so. We should have taken a direct train there from Shinjuku station but we didn't know about it. Upon arriving at the station, Priscilla had the foresight to find the information center where we got some very, very useful maps of Mt. Fuji and the different trails, along with time estimates for each section. We loaded up on a few groceries inside of the big shopping center. I felt weird inside such a commercial area as I was about to begin hiking a mountain. In the States, you usually drive your car to some trailhead in the middle of nowhere, park, and go. But since most people use public transportation, our hike began at the train station. We walked along the streets until we finally reached a cedar forest where the shrine stands, marking the beginning of the pilgrimmage of climbing Mt. Fuji.


Priscilla and I at the shrine at the base.


We explore the shrine for a bit, and then find the trail behind it, which actually begins as a paved road. Eventually, there is a parallel walking path right next to the road which is better, but sometimes through the trees you can still see the road, which kind of ruins the atmosphere, in my opinion. Around this time, it starts raining. I laugh a little as we put on our raincoats, saying it's better that the whole group didn't start here at the bottom. In less than an hour though, the rain lets up, thankfully, and we continue our hike through the green forested areas. I had gotten so used to the buzz of crowds and concrete while working in Tokyo, that this was a very welcome atmosphere, and I almost forgot I was still in Japan. As we're resting at one of the substations and talking in English, this Japanese looking guy (Note: If you're Asian and you're in Japan, you look Japanese) asks us do you guys speak English. We tell him we're students from America, and in fact, so is he. Will, as he introduces himself to us, even happens to work at the same company as our classmate Jerry, who is among the group that we're meeting at the 5th station later that day. Talk about coincidences. So now in a group of 3 we keep hiking, passing through the broken-down and decrepit stations 1 - 4.

The look kind of like barns, or perhaps an old house or shed that's been abandonded for a few decades, with the wood rotting, and many boards out of place and falling apart. Still, each station is marked with a small wooden sign, and helps guide us on the well-marked trail up to the 5th station. The trail get gradually steeper as we approach the 5th station, but still nothing that difficult. We end up reaching the station at around 5:30 and I text my friends who are on their way (Yes, cell phones work pretty much anywhere on Mount Fuji - even at the peak) and they say they'll be there in about an hour.We eat some Ramen at one of the many (maybe 5-6) restaurants at the 5th station. It's pretty commercial for being 2/3 up a mountain. As the sun goes down, the rest of the group arrives and we prepare our gear, stretch, and take some pictures.


Our group at the 5th station.

At this point we're pretty psyched. Lots of adrenaline running especially for those who have been sitting down on buses or trains for the last 3 hours. Everyone is eager to go. Well, except me and Priscilla. We weren't super tired from the morning hike, but definitely weren't 100%. Personally, at this point I can tell I'm suffering from mild dehydration already which is why I ordered soup and I kept drinking. I should have drank more. You can never have enough water. Nevertheless, once everyone is set, we start off around 7:30pm. I try to pace us, since we don't want to get to the top too early, I said. But in reality, I wasn't sure what kind of pace I could keep up with myself. My legs were fine, but when I walked, I was feeling lightheaded and a slight headache which was emphasized with sudden movements. Still, I figured I could think pretty logically, and I tried to calculate how long it would take us to get to the top. I put us on an admittedly leisurely pace. I figured, you don't want to get too tired at the bottom and run out of gas by the time you get near the top. We pass by the 6th station and take some water breaks in between. At first, the crowds are rather small and we're not sharing the trail with too many people at once.

The terrain is pretty much all rock. At the beginning it's not so steep at all, and the gravel is pretty shallow so there's minimal slipping. Still, I'm wary of pushing myself too hard, and I soon finish the one liter of water I brought along with me. I was carrying more water earlier in the day and finished it, and I decided I'd rather pay the exorbitant prices charged on the mountain for water, considering my current condition, and I'd make things a lot easier since I would be carrying significantly less. Water at this point costs about 300 yen ($3) for half a liter. It was already 200 yen at the 5th station.


Yummy trail mix, thanks to Wei!


I'll stop here for now. Check out some pictures, and look for the rest of the story very soon.

Update: For Part 2 scroll up or click here.

New Employee Party

On Friday, the development team here at Cybozu had welcome party for new employees. Besides me, they've hired 2 other developers in the last month or so. We ate some Okinawan food. They still called it nabe, which was a mixture of meat and veggies in soup that you heat up yourself on a hot pot in the middle of the table. Some of was . . interesting, but overall pretty tasty. They brought out a few extra dishes periodically, but I didn't get to take pictures of all of them, oddly enough.


A big hotpot of nabe.


Yes, all you eat in Japan is vegetables.


My friend Kamura and I.


Around the table.

It's pretty different hanging out with my co-workers outside of work. In the office, it's all business. Of course we don't really talk that much because I'm not fluent in Japanese, but even with each other, it seems like they only talk about work at work. Then again, since I really can't understand all of what there saying anyway, what do I know?

But especially after most of them have been drinking and relax, they become a lot more outgoing. Plenty of people who I see all the time at work but have never spoken to, finally introduced themselves and talked to me. Some even try to speak English. Don't get me wrong here, some of them are quite good at it, but then again, some just . . aren't. I know I can't say that much in Japanese, but sometimes it's easier to talk to me in Japanese if you can only say one English word every 10 seconds. I'm not complaining too much though.

Still though, this is one of the only times I've gotten to hang out with co-workers outside of work. I don't know why, but everyone here works so hard. I mean I do to, when they let me (another story), but I don't want to spend all day at the office. I get there at 9, have an hour for lunch, and leave between 6 and 7. Most people are already there when I arrive in the morning, and it always seems like I'm the first of all 150 employees to leave in the afternoon. That's what it specified in my contract, and if I don't have any pressing work that needs to get done, I usually go home and cook dinner. I hear most people are here till about 8pm, which I think is a little ridiculous. I mean they don't even have their own gourmet chef like Google. Others stay even later. And what's kind of sad is when I ask them what their weekend plans are, and they tell me they'll be in the office. This isn't always true, but for some of them it is. I'd say the average commute for them is about one hour each way on the trains. Which means they have to leave before 8am, and they don't get home till after 9pm. I suppose they are the leading groupware development company of Japan, so it makes sense that a successful company has hardworking employees. But when I "grow up," I think I can work hard, be successful, AND have a life outside of work.

Just smile and nod.

Since this just happened like 5 minutes ago and I'm on my lunch break, I figured I'd make a quick post. Normally at work I just kinda sit at my own desk and program by myself, occasionally asking my mentor some questions. I've been interacting more with people since I got a new assignment that put it in a larger team. The problem is that most of these people don't really speak English. At first, the people I talked to most knew pretty good English because they worked or studied in America before. Though I usually spoke Japanese, when it got to tough technical vocabulary I usually had to resort to English. But with my new project, it's been tough to figure out exactly what they want me to do, and to ask my very specific and slightly nuanced questions in Japanese.

My lack of language ability was just demonstrated to me when one of the computer technicians came by and started spouting off some Japanese to me. He had a clipboard in his hand and was looking at my computer's serial number. I figured he was doing some kind of hardware registration check. He asks me a question (I can tell from his intonation more than from the actual words he uses) and points at my monitor. He says the name of the groupware program that we make and also use, so I open it up. Apparently he sent out a company wide e-mail this morning telling us to download this utility and run it. Of course, I get maybe 10-15 of these e-mails a day and they're all in Japanese, so by now I've given up on trying to read them, and focus on the ones that are just sent to me.

He points at the monitor. I click. Then I just let him have the mouse. Easier that way. I run this utility program, it spits out a few numbers and other data that he jots down, and then it finishes, leaving this nifty window open that I have no idea how to close. He says some more things to me, I just smile and nod. He's like "daijoubu?" (Is it okay?) I just answer back with the same question, "Daijoubu?" (I have no clue, is it okay? He answers "Daijoubu" (it's okay), maybe because he already knows I can't understand anything else. Haha. Don't worry, it's all daijoubu.


Here's a screenshot of my desktop with that cool utility program running and the groupware program in the background. I'm not sure what the icon is, looks like a yellow cartoon ghost wearing a police helmet and carrying a set of padlocks. Beats me. Any of my more Japanese literate friends are welcome to help me out with translation.

Earthquakes, Typhoons and Humidity, oh my

You never really know what to expect here in Tokyo I suppose. On Saturday Adam and I were playing Frozen Throne in my apartment when all of a sudden we feel this shaking. He's like quit shaking the table man, and I'm like I'm not. Then we pause the game realizing that its a freaking earthquake. I've never been in an earthquake before, so I was kinda like hey this is cool. But I was quickly rebuked and sobered realizing that serious earthquakes can be disatrous. We look outside the window as my apartment building is swaying side to side, and people are all looking around, we see some guy get off his bike. Finally it stops. No major damage to my area. But we were luckily pretty far from the epicenter. It was a 5.7 on the Richter scale and 5 people were injured.

It was pretty scary, considering that Tokyo is bracing for the Big One, since it's due for a disatrous earthquake like the one that hit Kobe in 1995, killing 64,000 people. The worst part for me was that it stopped all the trains and subways. You see, unlike America where we always drive cars, pretty much everyone here uses public transporation. And there's literally no other way to get around besides walking, biking or super-expensive taxis. Because of the quake all the trains were shut down for a few hours, stranding me at home unable to go to this fireworks festival I was planning to go to. It was pretty frustrating, but instead Adam and I hung out some more since he couldn't go home either. We saw this Taiko performance going on across the street and watched for awhile - he was even able to play some which was cool since he hasn't played in a long time. Then we played this goldfish catching game with some little kids. I ended up taking about 4 of them home. Some tried to jump out and died, so I put the rest in my bathtub, which was interesting. I finally got a little glass bowl for the remaining survivor, and some fish food. Still deciding on a name.

Anyway then yesterday we were hit by a typhoon which wasn't nearly as bad as it sounds. It just rained pretty hard all day - I've seen much worse back home in Houston. The same goes for the heat and humidity - yeah unpleasant - but about the same as in Houston. I have lots of pictures to post still, so keep your eyes open for those. In the meantime here are some pictures from the weekend before last:


From the Osaka Aquarium.


Kids marching in the Gion Matsuri parade.


One of the floats.


Some kids playing in a stream.