Well I see skies of blue and I see clouds of white
And the brightness of day
I like the dark and I think to myself,
what a wonderful world.
- Israel Kamakawiwo'ole
Nocturnal Ascension
Week 14
And the brightness of day
I like the dark and I think to myself,
what a wonderful world.
- Israel Kamakawiwo'ole
Nocturnal Ascension
Week 14
At 5:03 AM on Monday, the 18th of August, 2008, I stood about twenty vertical meters from the northern summit of Mount Fuji and watched the sun rise. As the disc of molten copper edged over the ghostly fringes of the clouds I realized that this sunrise was, without comparison, the most amazing thing I had ever seen. I could not point to any single cohesive event in my life that exceeded seeing Sol crest those cumulus vapors. I have witnessed many things in the past 3 months that have affected me deeply, but none compared to this. Much of what I have witnessed or taken part of has been the result of the efforts of men and women. Though these achievements have been impressive in their own rights, I have always felt that the artifice of man pales in comparison to the broad strokes with which nature paints the canvas of Earth.
In that moment, at the top of the world (or so I felt) any doubt that I had about coming to Japan was erased forever. I'll never forget that moment and many others during the ascent and the descent of Fuji-san. Nor will I forget who I climbed the mountain with. Thank you Kevin, Winny, Zoey and Shinsuke for going along with my crazy plan.
Now, after this overly grandiose opening, let me elaborate on the trip and perhaps shed some light on why climbing a mountain that sees approximately 200,000 visitors a year was such a great accomplishment for me.
Background
Mount Fuji, or Fuji-san as it is referred to in Japan, is located astride two prefectures, Shizuoka and Yamanashi. It is visible from Tokyo on a clear day that is low in smog, the type of day which is most common in winter. It lies on the southern side of Honshu, the main island of Japan and is surrounded by three small cities: Fujiyoshida, Gotemba and Fujinomiya. It's about 2 hours from Shinjuku by bus.
The mountain itself is a stratovolcano which is classified as still being active. It last erupted in 1707 when it ejected cinders and ash all over the Kanto plain. It's situated over the intersection of three minor plates which explains its creation.
Fuji was first climbed (reputedly) by an unnamed monk in 663. As previously mentioned, Fuji now sees nearly 200,000 people a year, 30% of which are foreigners. There are 4 different routes to ascend the mountain, the most traditional being the Yoshida trail, which runs from the first station at the Sengen Shrine in Fujiyoshida at an altitude of 850m to the summit at 3776m. These days, the majority of climbers start at the fifth station, the height of which differs depending upon which trail is taken.
The trail we were to follow, the Kawaguchiko route, is the most popular. This is due primarily to the large number of huts on the way up the mountain and the sizable parking lots available at the 5th station, which is located at 2305m above sea level.
I had been interested in climbing Mount Fuji ever since I read in a guide book that it was a relatively simple climb, no technical equipment or skills required. The ascent of the mountain has actually been preoccupying me for the last two months. This climb is the primary reason I started jogging regularly again as well as doing some basic workout stuff, push-ups, sit-ups, nothing amazing. The majority of the planning for this expedition fell to me, so I was the one making recommendations to everyone on what to bring insofar as equipment and food was concerned. My plan (which ultimately turned out to be somewhat flawed) was to arrive in Fujiyoshida around about 4 PM, allowing people from Tokyo to acclimatize slightly to the higher altitude and thinner air before proceeding to the mountain proper for 9 PM. The climb would start from the 5th station and end on the summit by 4:30 AM Monday morning or so. After a brief tour around the crater, we'd proceed down to the bottom and hopefully finish the climb by around 10 AM. Best laid plans.
Before I really get into the meat of this I should just say that my week was fairly unremarkable. Most of my students were on vacation and all of my kids classes were canceled due to adjustment week. I spent most of my week waiting around at the school for 8 hours in order to teach one class and then return home. I bought my hiking boots on Tuesday as mentioned in the previous post, but nothing else truly remarkable occurred.
Sunday opened with me scrambling out of bed, frantically assembling my equipment and running out the door. This is what I carried/wore up the mountain:
1 pair of my worst jeans
2 T-shirts (Casino Royale on the way up, MGS 4 on the way down)
2 pair Hanes grey-toed white socks
1 Montreal Canadians baseball cap
1 Montreal Canadians toque
1 Pair of Merrill hiking boots (220,000 yen! ouch!)
3 Genki drinks (small bottles of liquid vitamins and lots of good things for you)
4 boxes of calorie mate (small high-calorie biscuits)
1 Swiss Army Knife
1 Panasonic Head Lamp
1 Extra Battery for above
1 Pen
1 Cellphone
1 LED Flashlight, Christmas gift at Silvercity last year.
1 towel
3 packages of vitamin gel
1 pair of trekking gloves
1 pair of light winter gloves
1 heavy fall jacket
1 pair of thick hiking socks
1 plastic poncho with matching pants
1 international calling card
1 tripod
1 bottle of sunscreen
1 garbage bag
2 bottles of water
1 bottle of gatorade
1 garbage bag
Well that was exhaustive.
I met Zoey in Shinjuku station. We proceeded on down to L-Breath, the outdoorsy store where I bought my hiking boots in order to purchase some additional equipment. A headlamp for Kevin and a few bottles of O2. Soon thereafter we were at the bus station where we ran into Shinsuke. in no time we were on our way up to the mountains via the Chuo Highway bus!
We arrived in Fujiyoshida shortly after 4PM. We met Kevin at the station and after dropping our gear at his house, went to a restaurant called CoCo's for dinner. Winny met us here. With everyone assembled, we headed on back to the station and waited for a local train to take us over to the bus station. There was a plaque at the station that listed the elevation as 809m. This was the first marker on our trip beyond the clouds.
Speaking of which, the weather was spectacularly unpromising on the way up to the 5th station of Fuji and the start of our hike. It was very rainy and incredibly foggy. As our bus wound its way up the switchbacks towards the 5th station at 2305m a few of us tried to get some sleep. Zoey and I had already been up for more than 12 hours at this point and had spent 2 hours on a bus just to get near the mountain. I failed at sleeping myself. I was just too excited and nervous. I could already feel that this was one of the most thrilling things I had ever done. I spent the ride up with my hat pulled low over my eyes and my arm supporting my head as I braced against each turn.
We reached the 5th station a few minutes before 9PM. Kevin, Shinsuke and I all bought climbing staves. They came fully equipped with a pair of bells affixed to them while Shin's and mine both sported Japanese flags as well.
Heading off into the misty forest was remarkably serene, but somewhat foreboding. The headlamps made it difficult to see what with all the mist droplets swirling right in front of your eyes. The hike began fairly simply, first with a slight descent and then back up over some light rises. The route was mostly paved with flagstone embedded in cement, which actually tended to be quite slippery given the misty conditions. It was already quite cool this high up on the mountain, maybe 12 C, which was the coolest weather I had felt since May. Climbing helped stave off the damp chill though, and by the time we reached the 6th station at 9:34 PM we had all warmed up a little bit.
The group rested for a few minutes at the 6th station (2390m) and received maps from the Mt. Fuji Safety Guidance center before heading off again up the mountain. I was really getting excited by this point. I had had my first opportunity to pop open my tripod and take a couple of pictures to the consternation of my compatriots.
Past the 6th station our ascent began proper. The section immediately following the 6th station made for some relatively easy climbing. The trail was composed of switchbacks sloping at maybe 20 degrees bordered by large retaining walls and anti-avalanche devices. As we proceeded upwards, this infrastructure slowly started to fade. At times we'd come across large steps that had been built into the mountain. For a group that was tired before we started, it could be quite difficult to climb over these. The first picture at the top of this page is shot about 3/4 of the way through the climb between the 6th and 7th stations.
The 7th station (2700m) was attained at around 10:47PM. The clouds were now, amazingly, below us. This was great news as it gave us a clear view of the rest of the path up, which was a pretty amazing sight. The whole trail was lit up with the headlamps of other climbers, making for a beautiful, ghostly dance on the way up. It was all framed by a nearly full moon which made the ascent much easier than it might have otherwise been. I was just hopeful that the weather would hold until we made it off the summit so we wouldn't have to deal with rainstorms on the summit. We were climbing between two tropical storms, one having hit Saturday night while another was due to hit sometime on Monday afternoon.
The 7th station marked the beginning of two new factors in the ascent. First, we were starting to get quite cold. Second, we had to get our first stamps on our walking sticks! Part of the tradition of climbing Fuji with a stick is that at each station (with the exception of the sixth) a stamp is burnt into the stick indicating the altitude and the station. It cost 200 yen at each station, but it was more than worth it.
After pulling on some heavier gear (jackets and whatnot), we started off for the eighth station. As soon as we got back to the trail proper we were confronted with a rude awakening. While the trail had been relatively easy to this point, the route from the 7th station to the 8th station would present the longest, most difficult part of the climb. The 400 vertical meters that stretch between these two stations is not navigated over switchbacks like the previous two, but instead over a field of broken lava flow. At first, upon climbing it, I just assumed it was rocks. However, as I moved upwards I realized that the at some point Fuji had spewed out a massive tendril of rock that looked like it had the approximate consistency of a very thick porridge. The stuff had tried in a cracked and fractured blanket all the way down this part of the mountain.
This frozen slurry wasn't insurmountable by any means, but it certainly was difficult. To add an unnecessary complication the wind also decided to pick up at this point. These posed two additional problems. One was that, if you timed your push up to the next spur of rock at an inopportune time, a gust of wind could easily send you off balance and falling back down the face the mountain. I doubt this would have had fatal results, but it certainly could have caused some severe injuries, especially considering our lack of protective equipment. The other problem was that the wind was now picking up the vast supply of dust on the mountain and flinging it in our faces. Without sunglasses (Winny was the only one of us with a pair) it made it quite difficult to look ahead and plot a course through the rock field without having your eyes gouged with sand. This was by far the toughest part of the climb. At this point our hiking sticks also became a far greater hindrance than an aid. I would have appreciated having the extra hand to grab onto hand holds but, as it was, the whole group made it up fine.
We made the 8th station at around 1AM, on Monday. At this point we were all starting to feel the thinner air and our exhaustion. The 8th station is a little bit unusual in that it stretches on for quite a bit. There's a large number of huts in this area and quite a bit of other infrastructure installed as well. After resting for a short while (we'd been taking 10-15 minutes breaks periodically) we pushed on past the 8th station.
We were happy to see the trail turn back into close switchbacks. Somewhere during this section of the ascent Zoey Kevin and Shinsuke started taking O2 from time to time on breaks. The going was much easier here, but it was countered with the lower amounts of oxygen in the air as well as the cold and the fact that we'd been awake for hours at this point. We reached a hut near the old 8th station (3400m) at about 3 AM. I ran into a few Americans from California here. I let one of them borrow my tripod and take a few shots down the mountain. We had a short but interesting conversation before they pushed on.
The huts were getting smaller and the mountain progressively more cramped as we got higher. Our legs burning from climbing for almost 6 hours at this point, when reaching rest stops all we wanted to do was sit and relax. In some places between the 8th station and the old 8th station there was not enough room between the mountain slope and the huts to sit down. In this section of the climb we also started to see some of the affects of altitude sickness. I saw a few people hunched over and vomiting into whatever receptacle happened to be nearby. There were also a large number of people that appeared to have given up, exhausted, and draped whatever they could over their head before attempting to fall asleep.
We staggered on up the increasingly steep switchbacks on our way to the summit. After covering what I would estimate to be another 200 vertical meters we ran into the final main obstacle in the ascent. A second lava fall, like the one between 7th and 8th stations covers part of the climb between the old 8th station and the summit. It's intermixed with the more familiar switchbacks, but is much tougher to climb when you're that much more exhausted. We were taking longer and longer breaks at this point. Kevin, Shinsuke and Zoey were all suffering from various affects of altitude sickness, nausea, headaches etc. At 4:22 AM we stopped outside the boundaries of the path on a small ledge of loose volcanic debris. The sun had just begun to brighten the horizon. I snapped a few photos before pushing on.
There was a bit of a traffic jam on the mountain at this point. There's small gate that was congesting the traffic a bit. It's visible to the right of the 3rd picture. I was, at this point, frustrated with our lack of progress and, along with Winny, set off ahead up the group faster than the others. I soon lost track of Winny in the shuffling masses. As the sun's rays grew brighter on the horizon, I realized that the summit was out of my reach before dawn. Reconciling myself to "close, but no cigar" I hopped over the path and climbed a lava boulder to a small ledge where a Japanese fellow had set up his camera on a tripod. I did the same and proceeded to take pictures that I hope to be able to look back on in the years to come and remember some of the impact of that moment. Pictures 3 and 4 were shot here. I've already expressed what I felt in this moment above so I'll refrain from repeating myself. I did omit one detail. When the sun first crested those clouds the entire mountain cheered. I've never heard anything quite like it. I was too awe-struck to join in myself, but it just added even more to the majesty of the moment.
After watching the sun complete it's own ascent and full of adrenaline from the sight I had just seen, I bounded up the last 20m or so to the summit of the mountain. I saw Winny waiting just outside the gate to the top of the mountain. We waited here for a while talking and bouncing around excitedly for the others to catch up with us.
I also made a phone call to my mom from here. I was barely comprehensible as far as I could remember and so overcome with emotion at that point that I choked up and couldn't really talk. My mom asked me to describe the scene and my only answer was that it was indescribable. It still is. Words could never do it justice. Whether it was a combination of the lack of oxygen, the extreme exhaustion or whatever other factors, I was and still am completely overwhelmed by that moment. It's impossible for me to write about it now without a tickle in the back of my throat.
I'll end this here for now. Tomorrow I'll write the second half of this journey and get it to you as soon as possible.
I remain, as always,
Ian "Mello Yello" Cantello
In that moment, at the top of the world (or so I felt) any doubt that I had about coming to Japan was erased forever. I'll never forget that moment and many others during the ascent and the descent of Fuji-san. Nor will I forget who I climbed the mountain with. Thank you Kevin, Winny, Zoey and Shinsuke for going along with my crazy plan.
Now, after this overly grandiose opening, let me elaborate on the trip and perhaps shed some light on why climbing a mountain that sees approximately 200,000 visitors a year was such a great accomplishment for me.
Background
Mount Fuji, or Fuji-san as it is referred to in Japan, is located astride two prefectures, Shizuoka and Yamanashi. It is visible from Tokyo on a clear day that is low in smog, the type of day which is most common in winter. It lies on the southern side of Honshu, the main island of Japan and is surrounded by three small cities: Fujiyoshida, Gotemba and Fujinomiya. It's about 2 hours from Shinjuku by bus.
The mountain itself is a stratovolcano which is classified as still being active. It last erupted in 1707 when it ejected cinders and ash all over the Kanto plain. It's situated over the intersection of three minor plates which explains its creation.
Fuji was first climbed (reputedly) by an unnamed monk in 663. As previously mentioned, Fuji now sees nearly 200,000 people a year, 30% of which are foreigners. There are 4 different routes to ascend the mountain, the most traditional being the Yoshida trail, which runs from the first station at the Sengen Shrine in Fujiyoshida at an altitude of 850m to the summit at 3776m. These days, the majority of climbers start at the fifth station, the height of which differs depending upon which trail is taken.
The trail we were to follow, the Kawaguchiko route, is the most popular. This is due primarily to the large number of huts on the way up the mountain and the sizable parking lots available at the 5th station, which is located at 2305m above sea level.
I had been interested in climbing Mount Fuji ever since I read in a guide book that it was a relatively simple climb, no technical equipment or skills required. The ascent of the mountain has actually been preoccupying me for the last two months. This climb is the primary reason I started jogging regularly again as well as doing some basic workout stuff, push-ups, sit-ups, nothing amazing. The majority of the planning for this expedition fell to me, so I was the one making recommendations to everyone on what to bring insofar as equipment and food was concerned. My plan (which ultimately turned out to be somewhat flawed) was to arrive in Fujiyoshida around about 4 PM, allowing people from Tokyo to acclimatize slightly to the higher altitude and thinner air before proceeding to the mountain proper for 9 PM. The climb would start from the 5th station and end on the summit by 4:30 AM Monday morning or so. After a brief tour around the crater, we'd proceed down to the bottom and hopefully finish the climb by around 10 AM. Best laid plans.
Before I really get into the meat of this I should just say that my week was fairly unremarkable. Most of my students were on vacation and all of my kids classes were canceled due to adjustment week. I spent most of my week waiting around at the school for 8 hours in order to teach one class and then return home. I bought my hiking boots on Tuesday as mentioned in the previous post, but nothing else truly remarkable occurred.
Sunday opened with me scrambling out of bed, frantically assembling my equipment and running out the door. This is what I carried/wore up the mountain:
1 pair of my worst jeans
2 T-shirts (Casino Royale on the way up, MGS 4 on the way down)
2 pair Hanes grey-toed white socks
1 Montreal Canadians baseball cap
1 Montreal Canadians toque
1 Pair of Merrill hiking boots (220,000 yen! ouch!)
3 Genki drinks (small bottles of liquid vitamins and lots of good things for you)
4 boxes of calorie mate (small high-calorie biscuits)
1 Swiss Army Knife
1 Panasonic Head Lamp
1 Extra Battery for above
1 Pen
1 Cellphone
1 LED Flashlight, Christmas gift at Silvercity last year.
1 towel
3 packages of vitamin gel
1 pair of trekking gloves
1 pair of light winter gloves
1 heavy fall jacket
1 pair of thick hiking socks
1 plastic poncho with matching pants
1 international calling card
1 tripod
1 bottle of sunscreen
1 garbage bag
2 bottles of water
1 bottle of gatorade
1 garbage bag
Well that was exhaustive.
I met Zoey in Shinjuku station. We proceeded on down to L-Breath, the outdoorsy store where I bought my hiking boots in order to purchase some additional equipment. A headlamp for Kevin and a few bottles of O2. Soon thereafter we were at the bus station where we ran into Shinsuke. in no time we were on our way up to the mountains via the Chuo Highway bus!
We arrived in Fujiyoshida shortly after 4PM. We met Kevin at the station and after dropping our gear at his house, went to a restaurant called CoCo's for dinner. Winny met us here. With everyone assembled, we headed on back to the station and waited for a local train to take us over to the bus station. There was a plaque at the station that listed the elevation as 809m. This was the first marker on our trip beyond the clouds.
Speaking of which, the weather was spectacularly unpromising on the way up to the 5th station of Fuji and the start of our hike. It was very rainy and incredibly foggy. As our bus wound its way up the switchbacks towards the 5th station at 2305m a few of us tried to get some sleep. Zoey and I had already been up for more than 12 hours at this point and had spent 2 hours on a bus just to get near the mountain. I failed at sleeping myself. I was just too excited and nervous. I could already feel that this was one of the most thrilling things I had ever done. I spent the ride up with my hat pulled low over my eyes and my arm supporting my head as I braced against each turn.
We reached the 5th station a few minutes before 9PM. Kevin, Shinsuke and I all bought climbing staves. They came fully equipped with a pair of bells affixed to them while Shin's and mine both sported Japanese flags as well.
Heading off into the misty forest was remarkably serene, but somewhat foreboding. The headlamps made it difficult to see what with all the mist droplets swirling right in front of your eyes. The hike began fairly simply, first with a slight descent and then back up over some light rises. The route was mostly paved with flagstone embedded in cement, which actually tended to be quite slippery given the misty conditions. It was already quite cool this high up on the mountain, maybe 12 C, which was the coolest weather I had felt since May. Climbing helped stave off the damp chill though, and by the time we reached the 6th station at 9:34 PM we had all warmed up a little bit.
The group rested for a few minutes at the 6th station (2390m) and received maps from the Mt. Fuji Safety Guidance center before heading off again up the mountain. I was really getting excited by this point. I had had my first opportunity to pop open my tripod and take a couple of pictures to the consternation of my compatriots.
Past the 6th station our ascent began proper. The section immediately following the 6th station made for some relatively easy climbing. The trail was composed of switchbacks sloping at maybe 20 degrees bordered by large retaining walls and anti-avalanche devices. As we proceeded upwards, this infrastructure slowly started to fade. At times we'd come across large steps that had been built into the mountain. For a group that was tired before we started, it could be quite difficult to climb over these. The first picture at the top of this page is shot about 3/4 of the way through the climb between the 6th and 7th stations.
The 7th station (2700m) was attained at around 10:47PM. The clouds were now, amazingly, below us. This was great news as it gave us a clear view of the rest of the path up, which was a pretty amazing sight. The whole trail was lit up with the headlamps of other climbers, making for a beautiful, ghostly dance on the way up. It was all framed by a nearly full moon which made the ascent much easier than it might have otherwise been. I was just hopeful that the weather would hold until we made it off the summit so we wouldn't have to deal with rainstorms on the summit. We were climbing between two tropical storms, one having hit Saturday night while another was due to hit sometime on Monday afternoon.
The 7th station marked the beginning of two new factors in the ascent. First, we were starting to get quite cold. Second, we had to get our first stamps on our walking sticks! Part of the tradition of climbing Fuji with a stick is that at each station (with the exception of the sixth) a stamp is burnt into the stick indicating the altitude and the station. It cost 200 yen at each station, but it was more than worth it.
After pulling on some heavier gear (jackets and whatnot), we started off for the eighth station. As soon as we got back to the trail proper we were confronted with a rude awakening. While the trail had been relatively easy to this point, the route from the 7th station to the 8th station would present the longest, most difficult part of the climb. The 400 vertical meters that stretch between these two stations is not navigated over switchbacks like the previous two, but instead over a field of broken lava flow. At first, upon climbing it, I just assumed it was rocks. However, as I moved upwards I realized that the at some point Fuji had spewed out a massive tendril of rock that looked like it had the approximate consistency of a very thick porridge. The stuff had tried in a cracked and fractured blanket all the way down this part of the mountain.
This frozen slurry wasn't insurmountable by any means, but it certainly was difficult. To add an unnecessary complication the wind also decided to pick up at this point. These posed two additional problems. One was that, if you timed your push up to the next spur of rock at an inopportune time, a gust of wind could easily send you off balance and falling back down the face the mountain. I doubt this would have had fatal results, but it certainly could have caused some severe injuries, especially considering our lack of protective equipment. The other problem was that the wind was now picking up the vast supply of dust on the mountain and flinging it in our faces. Without sunglasses (Winny was the only one of us with a pair) it made it quite difficult to look ahead and plot a course through the rock field without having your eyes gouged with sand. This was by far the toughest part of the climb. At this point our hiking sticks also became a far greater hindrance than an aid. I would have appreciated having the extra hand to grab onto hand holds but, as it was, the whole group made it up fine.
We made the 8th station at around 1AM, on Monday. At this point we were all starting to feel the thinner air and our exhaustion. The 8th station is a little bit unusual in that it stretches on for quite a bit. There's a large number of huts in this area and quite a bit of other infrastructure installed as well. After resting for a short while (we'd been taking 10-15 minutes breaks periodically) we pushed on past the 8th station.
We were happy to see the trail turn back into close switchbacks. Somewhere during this section of the ascent Zoey Kevin and Shinsuke started taking O2 from time to time on breaks. The going was much easier here, but it was countered with the lower amounts of oxygen in the air as well as the cold and the fact that we'd been awake for hours at this point. We reached a hut near the old 8th station (3400m) at about 3 AM. I ran into a few Americans from California here. I let one of them borrow my tripod and take a few shots down the mountain. We had a short but interesting conversation before they pushed on.
The huts were getting smaller and the mountain progressively more cramped as we got higher. Our legs burning from climbing for almost 6 hours at this point, when reaching rest stops all we wanted to do was sit and relax. In some places between the 8th station and the old 8th station there was not enough room between the mountain slope and the huts to sit down. In this section of the climb we also started to see some of the affects of altitude sickness. I saw a few people hunched over and vomiting into whatever receptacle happened to be nearby. There were also a large number of people that appeared to have given up, exhausted, and draped whatever they could over their head before attempting to fall asleep.
We staggered on up the increasingly steep switchbacks on our way to the summit. After covering what I would estimate to be another 200 vertical meters we ran into the final main obstacle in the ascent. A second lava fall, like the one between 7th and 8th stations covers part of the climb between the old 8th station and the summit. It's intermixed with the more familiar switchbacks, but is much tougher to climb when you're that much more exhausted. We were taking longer and longer breaks at this point. Kevin, Shinsuke and Zoey were all suffering from various affects of altitude sickness, nausea, headaches etc. At 4:22 AM we stopped outside the boundaries of the path on a small ledge of loose volcanic debris. The sun had just begun to brighten the horizon. I snapped a few photos before pushing on.
There was a bit of a traffic jam on the mountain at this point. There's small gate that was congesting the traffic a bit. It's visible to the right of the 3rd picture. I was, at this point, frustrated with our lack of progress and, along with Winny, set off ahead up the group faster than the others. I soon lost track of Winny in the shuffling masses. As the sun's rays grew brighter on the horizon, I realized that the summit was out of my reach before dawn. Reconciling myself to "close, but no cigar" I hopped over the path and climbed a lava boulder to a small ledge where a Japanese fellow had set up his camera on a tripod. I did the same and proceeded to take pictures that I hope to be able to look back on in the years to come and remember some of the impact of that moment. Pictures 3 and 4 were shot here. I've already expressed what I felt in this moment above so I'll refrain from repeating myself. I did omit one detail. When the sun first crested those clouds the entire mountain cheered. I've never heard anything quite like it. I was too awe-struck to join in myself, but it just added even more to the majesty of the moment.
After watching the sun complete it's own ascent and full of adrenaline from the sight I had just seen, I bounded up the last 20m or so to the summit of the mountain. I saw Winny waiting just outside the gate to the top of the mountain. We waited here for a while talking and bouncing around excitedly for the others to catch up with us.
I also made a phone call to my mom from here. I was barely comprehensible as far as I could remember and so overcome with emotion at that point that I choked up and couldn't really talk. My mom asked me to describe the scene and my only answer was that it was indescribable. It still is. Words could never do it justice. Whether it was a combination of the lack of oxygen, the extreme exhaustion or whatever other factors, I was and still am completely overwhelmed by that moment. It's impossible for me to write about it now without a tickle in the back of my throat.
I'll end this here for now. Tomorrow I'll write the second half of this journey and get it to you as soon as possible.
I remain, as always,
Ian "Mello Yello" Cantello
1 comment:
Wonderful description of the preparations and the ascent. Beautiful photos as well. I experienced it all vicariously and I can hardly wait for the next chapter.
Your devoted reader,
Dad
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