I woke a few hours later; my body was stiff, I could feel every muscle burning with resistance. I checked my cellphone to discover it was 1:30am. Everyone else had left to climb to the top at around 11pm, and there were a few backpackers heading out at this moment. I knew that if I couldn't get up now, I would not be able to make it to the top of the mountain later.
In the dead of night, I gathered my clothes, a bottle of water, and a bento lunch box. My ascent would be made without the backpack I began the trip with; I would leave that at the lodge and come back for it later. Only wearing sweatpants, a long sleeved shirt, and a windbreaker jacket, I started up the trail. Stay light, I thought, and get up that mountain quickly.
It was a clear night, and the stars and moon provided enough light for me to navigate the steep mountain trail. I reached 6th Station without much trouble, and decided to take a rest. I thought I could see the top, looming beyond the few stations that broke up the trial. These small lodges stood out as both beacons of reassurance and clusters of light that mentally anchored me to the goal ahead.
As I rested, I began a conversation with a japanese couple. They looked well prepared for the assent, wearing heavily packed climbing backpacks and wearing layers of clothing that covered everything but their faces. I told them the story of my climb thus far, and the male climber looked impressed. He offered me food and water to help me finish the climb. I gratefully took the extra food and carried it in a plastic bag, my only extra weight for the climb. I glanced toward the summit and figured that it would only take a few more hours of uphill battling until I would stand on the top of the mountain, which seemed to be near.
I was very, very wrong. The trek to 7th Station was noticeably steeper; each step on the gravel path was unsteady, and I would slide backwards a few centimeters as small rocks shifted under my weight. I now relied on my walking stick as a third leg, driving it firmly into the uncertain ground with every few steps. It was more difficult to breathe as well, from both the increased workout on the dramatic incline, as well as the high altitude's noticeable changes in pressure, oxygen content, and temperature. Oh, and about seeing the top: that was an illusion. The mountain's steepness made it seem that the peak was “just around the corner.”
Despite these challenges, the sunrise provided a profound respite. I halted my ascent to rest and take in the majestic view. My panoramic view was once in a lifetime; below me the blanket of green forest tucked in to the mountain's barren soil. Clouds rested like pillows above the forest, connecting the higher planes of sky to the upper peaks of nearby mountains. In the valley, foreign buildings and lights peppered the natural landscape. The clear lake glistened under the warm, intoxicating sunlight, and so too did the distant, sheer blue sea shimmer in the sunlight. For that moment, I felt as if I had forgotten the toiling that we mere mortals endure. My climb up this mountain felt more than a literal ascension, it were as if I could now view the world with the opened eyes of an indigenous Ancient.
Coming soon... Part 4: Face Death with a Grin
