The Descent

It looked that the weather was starting to pushover and with a few droplets of rain, Kel and I decided that it was time to head down. Knowing that we both are at the forefront of fashion, we unveiled our Y490 raincoats (more like plastic sheets), strapped on our backpacks and gloves and headed down.
Initially, I felt great on the way down. The legs were fine. My belly was full and the backpack was lighter. Kel also had a spring in her step and we cruised past the 9.5th Station without even stopping. Again there were many Konnichiwa's from the locals who were climbing and questions from the foreigners about how long it would take to the top. One local lady actually stopped and asked if I spoke Japanese to which I replied, "Watashi wa nihongo o hanasemasen."
Kel noticed that there were many more people climbing as we descended and that many more of them were foreigners. We listened intently to their North American accents and concluded that the tour buses must have arrived. What surprised us though was that many of the round-eyes were really under-prepared. One young fella was muttering away to himself at the 9th Station in shorts, a T-shirt and a floppy hat while we saw a boyfriend trying to lay down the 'reality speech' to his girlfriend who had given up about half way.
The walk back down the mountain definitely was faster although it was quite tricky. A friend of ours said that the mountain reminded him of when Froddo and Sam were trying to walk through the land of Mordor in The Lord Of The Rings. The Fujinomiya path has many large rocks in sections and then enormous amounts of shoal which made it really slippery. I told Kel that I was using a combination of the French technique and the Swiss technique to navigate the mountain path. About halfway down, my French technique had turned French Polynesian and the Swiss had turned more into Kraft Cheddar. Our legs were really tired and shaky by the bottom few Stations. Luckily for us, the kind Japanese people had put in some ropes on which we could support ourselves when we lost our balance.
At the new 7th Station, I developed a really bad stomach cramp. The day before the climb I had felt sick with stomach pains so I rested knowing that we wanted to climb this mountain. Unfortunately they reappeared and made the last hour of the descent really hard work. Kel was very patient with me and walked slowly ahead at my pace. When we returned to the car, I had to lay down on the road for 10 minutes until the cramping had subsided.
With our bare feet blackened from the dust and our mouths dry, Kel drove the car slowly back down the road towards Fuji. I felt a huge sense of pride in our achievement. To have climbed the mountain in one day was a monumental effort. There is a Japanese saying that "A brave man climbs Mt. Fuji once. A fool climbs twice." The climbing season is only open from the start of July until the end of August, so fortunately, we won't be able to climb her again. Kel and I climbed her once, and once was enough.

The Climb Up

Many of the websites that I read before climbing Fuji-san talked about altitude sickness and being prepared for the elements. One site said to bring two litres of water each. So we did. Kel had also packed enough food to allow a small Pacific nation to survive for two weeks so I was comforted in the thought of eating well. She had even turned her hand to making home-made Onegiri, which is a Japanese delicacy in my opinion.
The hike to the 7th Station was in two parts. Not because we walked and stopped, which we did to take many photos, but due to the fact that there is an Old 7th Station and a New 7th Station. At each station we stopped, took some water and had second and third breakfasts respectively. At both of these stations I was starting to feel the effects from the lack of oxygen. The car park is at 2500 metres, and these stations were well above that. From each of these stations we had the most amazing view from above the clouds. The clouds had started to thin and we were about the look down on Fuji city and the mighty Pacific Ocean. Unnervingly though, as we climbed between the two 7th Stations, Kel and I heard an almighty boom. The sound then repeated itself again and again. I thought to my self 'That doesn't sound right' and turned to look at Kel who said with a look of shock, "What the f**k was that?" I guessed that it might have been the military base at Gotenba, which Kel actually confirmed later when she asked a local at the next station. It is quite unnerving standing on an active volcano and hearing loud thunderous noises around you.
As we started our climb up to the 8th Station, I had found my second wind. The head ache had disappeared and my legs felt strong. Kel and I had got into a calm rhythmical pace which suited us really well. There was a lot of shoal rocks all over the path which made it quite slippery and we had to pick our way carefully. It felt like I was walking uphill on snow again and I blasted Kel's ears with many stories about my previous life.
By the 9th station we both knew that this was no ordinary mountain. We had been climbing for about 3.5 hour now and the air was getting thinner. Our rest stops were getting longer but we didn't mind. The top of the mountain wasn't going anywhere and we took our time to try and acclimatize. Many people had passed us going in the opposite direction. These travellers had stayed overnight in the mountain Stations and had got up early to see the sunrise. I have never said Ohayo Gozaimus or Konnichiwa as many times as I did before this climb and everyone (more so the Japanese travellers) had a really friendly demeanour either going up or coming down.
Kel actually was able to experience snow on this climb. In between the 8th and 9th Stations, a sheltered section of the mountain still was able to hold a large gully of ice from the winter. She looked at it, commented, and then walked on. We were on a mission to the top.
From the 9th Station, it is expected to take about 1 hour to reach the summit, and that is what it took us. Our pace had slowed but was consistent. I had a head ache due to the altitude and Kel's legs were speaking loudly to her. We stopped at the 9.5 Station which had the worst smelling toilets of them all (it costs Y200 to use the bathroom at each station) and then ground our way up to the top. I really felt a sense of achievement as Kel and I passed through the Shrine entrance and made our way to the 10th Station. 4 hours and 40 minutes it took us to tame the wildest mountain of Japan but I couldn't just sit and rest. I had to take it all in. I dragged Kel down another path and walked over to the edge of the crater. Unbelievable. The crater was enormous. The colours of the rocks bled from dark browns, through deep reds and into oranges and greys, and there was even a bit of complimentary snow lying right in the centre
for us to admire.
After taking it all in, Kel and I sat in the warming hut, which was next to the temple that the monks attended to. As we sat and ate trail mix, some workmen who had just made the climb sat opposite us at the narrow table. One of them brought over a tray of coffee for his colleagues and for us. We were incredibly surprised by his generosity. We offered them some of our biscuits and watched as the cultural barriers just fell apart right around us. "It is probably one of the best tasting instant coffees I've had." said Kel, as she dove in head first. The men were so kind that they wouldn't even let me take the paper cups off the mountain for them in our rubbish bag.

The Morning Run

I heard Kel's alarm on her phone but I stayed in bed. Kel said something last night about having a shower and using the extra time to "wake-up". I didn't complain. The extra 15 minutes of sleep that I had, with my head on the warm pillow, was all the preparation I needed to start the day.
It was 2.45am when I got up. Kel had put the kettle on and had her shower. I got dressed into my thermal leggings, had a glass of water and checked over the bags. With breakfast packed neatly next to the warm thermos, and our backpacks full of extra clothes and food, we jumped into the White Rollerskate and rolled off down the road towards Fuji-san.
The bus schedule from Fuji train station told us that it would take about two hours to drive to the 5th Station at Fujinomiya. With no cars on the road at that time in the morning
and thinking that I could drive like Fangio, we reached the car park before the sunrise at 4.15am. I'm sure the deer on the side of the road had never seen a White Rollerskate going that fast up a mountain before. The car park was almost full even at this ungodly hour so I had to park a short distance back down the road. Under the interior car light Kel made our breakfast of Earl Grey and raisin buns. They were a bit dry but we managed. We dressed warmly and with backpacks on began our journey upward.
The 5th Station is a little unusual as it seems strangely to resemble a car park. There is a toilet and shops but not openat this hour. From reading the websites about the climb, I learned that there were about 7 stations that we could stop to buy drinks and stop at the toilets. We found the trail and began climbing. It was amazing to hear the crunching sound of pumice under our feet with no other sounds yet awakened. The sunrise was starting to pierce the light cloud cover which was warming knowing that the weather forecast had been for rain. Kel and I reached the 6th Station just as it was about to open.