I had a bit of an unusual vacation this last weekend. One of the travel agencies here in Japan was offering a great package deal on the new civilian space flight program. I tossed the idea around for a while, debating if it was worth the money…and worrying about the safety. Eventually I decided to put my faith in the Japanese space program and bought a round trip ticket to Mars, with a stopover on the moon.
It was surreal being on the moon, peering off into the endless black sky even in broad daylight. Sadly our stay was short, just long enough for the ship to refuel, and we had to leave just before the Earthrise. Too bad, as I’ve heard it is beautiful.
We arrived on Mars in the early morning hours and the long shadows only added to the somber feeling of the planet. One of the few sites to visit were the rover tracks, which you can see in the photo. Other than that, there was nothing but barren rock beneath the dusty brown sky, and it made me eager to leave. While it was interesting to visit these foreign worlds, it is nice to be back among the familiar.
So, where did I really go to take these photos?
Majestic Fuji-san. Though like all majesty in Japan, it makes itself difficult to be seen, usually veiled in gentle clouds. After a long day of travel mishaps, I arrived near the base much later than planned and could only stray a little ways from the bus stop to catch a glimpse of the tallest peak in Japan.
The bus to the fifth station at 2300m was full and I had to stand for the hour long ride. Time passed oh so slowly as we crept up the steady slope with our heavy load. I have never heard a vehicle groan so much in my life, and we didn’t seem to be getting much in exchange. To make up for the sluggishness, I was lucky enough to be standing by the rear door, so I had a good view of the sunset as we wound up the mountainside.
I took some time to browse through the souvenier shops before setting out to climb the darkened mountain. The hike was just a gradual slope at first, but soon became a winding steeper slope, usually over loose volcanic rock only illuminated by my small but sufficient LED flashlight. Shrinking away below were the city lights, occasionaly obscured by light passing cloud cover. It was like being in a low-flying airplane, except I was making this ascent on my on two legs. And by four hours into the hike I was really starting to feel it. Maybe I should have picked up a can of compressed oxygen like I’d seen other people using…wait, who am I kidding? I wasn’t on the moon, I was partway up a mountain whose peak is 1650m lower than Mt. Everest’s base camp. I’m not a sherpa or anything, but bottled oxygen seems like a bit of overkill to me, and I really wasn’t noticing the thinner air. In any case, I knew I wasn’t going to make it to the top without some rest. At my current pace it was looking like I’d reach the summit a couple hours before sunrise, so I opted for a one and a half hour nap in the next mountain hut. It was the most expensive nap I’ll probably ever take, costing me ￥6300 rather than the ￥500/hr I’d read about. Oh well, I needed the sleep and they showed me to a nice warm cubbyhole quite suited to the purpose.
I awoke groggy but rejuvinated and ready to finish the climb. The number of people on the trail had increased rapidly during my sleep, and it wasn’t long before people were piling up at bottlenecks. My chances of making it to the top in time were looking slim. I blitzed by wherever I could but still spent more time waiting than hiking. At around 4am, I saw a faint glow appearing on the horizon and I was quite relieved. I had thought I was on the northern slope of the mountain, but it turns out I was on the east and was still going to have an excellent view of sunrise without being on the summit. The early moments were the most beautiful, with brilliant red clouds set against a light yellow sky that quickly faded into deep blues, and blackness further above.
When I finally reached the summit, I still had a chance to see the golden glow of the tail end of the sunrise.
I think I may have been better off watching from below the summit as hundreds of people were vying for space on eastern ridge of the crater. I was really amazed that such a seemingly remote and peaceful place could be so highly trafficked.
There were even vending machines on the summit! It’s true, they really are everywhere in Japan.
The peak of Fuji-san is a place of stark contrast. Outwardly, there are the heavenly views. The light reflecting off the tops of the clouds has a certain purity, a brilliance, that I have never seen before, and I thought if I looked closely enough I might just see dancing angels.
Inwardly however, the peak bears a close resemblence to hell at times with its roughly formed volcanic rocks in reds and blacks. All that is missing is the bubbling lava in the depths of the crater, from which a putrid stench would surely emanate.
When not feeling like I was in a place from religious lore, I thought I might really have arrived on another planet in some civilian spacecraft. This black dune, known as the “sand slides,” looks as if it should be from some far off world.
The true peak of Fuji-san (3776m) is capped with a building of some type, and together with the buildings below, among the red rocks, the whole scene looked like it was a Martian outpost.
On my descent of Fuji-san I passed through the sand slides and at times I felt like I was on the moon, especially as I was running down the mountainside, taking huge leaps and sinking into the sandy soil.
The trail through the sand slides must have been several kilometers long. I was only able to run down part of the way before completely running out of energy. I continued to trudge down the slope, at times feeling eerily alone and disoriented in the thick fog and strange moon-like environment. When I would stop walking, I’d have difficulty remaining upright since my balance was thrown off by the odd constant slope that made vertical things look crooked. There was a dull humming in my ears from the pressure change, and it served to filter out any stray sounds and only contributed to the surreal sensations I was feeling on the mountainside. At one point the fog cleared some and I could see the trail disappear into it in the distance. As an example of the illusions I was seeing, and feeling, the trail in the picture looks like it starts going up hill, but it never did…at least, I don’t remember it doing so. I was so worn out that I can’t really say I know for sure.
But the effort? It was worth it. I may not have left Earth’s atmosphere, but the voyage was indeed grand.
Nice Post Nick. I realized things were developed in Japan but vending machines on the top of the mountain just blew my mind. Guess I was never one for the development of mountains, and that crowd of people at top, wow. Know what you mean about the sand slides, I climbed Mt. St. Helens with my family once and they are really fun to leap down but really suck climbing up. Guess I should get back to the report I have to write, just cant seem to get the motivation right now. Awesome photos.
Something I didn’t mention in the post is that there were no less than ten huts along the route up, all selling food and drink, offering a place to rest, and providing bathrooms. Each one was just as crowded as the peak, and they all had electricity. Despite all this development and the crowds of people, I didn’t feel like it detracted from the experience. In some ways it added to it, making for a unique climb that I don’t think exists anywhere else in the world.
hmm, well there were souvenier shops all the way up mt vesuvius in italy…but no vending machines that i remember. go japan!
beautiful photos by the way!!! are the first two really from fuji?
p.s. i’m going to open a sleep-hut on the climb up fuji-san. i’d make a killing!
Yes, those first two really are from Fuji-san. All I did was change the sky in the ‘moon’ photo, and the sky and color tone in the ‘Mars’ photo.