Exhaustion finally began to set in. My body was aching all over; my knees were locking up, by arms were tired from using the walking stick, and my lungs burned. However, as I stopped to rest, I began to shiver. The intense mountain winds permeated my light windbreaker jacket and over-cooled my sweaty torso. I had to keep moving now, in order to generate enough heat to stay warm. I knew I was getting into a desperate spot, but I had no choice but to continue at breakneck speed, passing everyone in front of me, breathing with varying emphasis in the different parts of my lungs, and resting when absolutely necessary.
As I reached 8th station I knew I was done. I needed to stop somewhere or death would take me. I knew that each station had a lodge, where you could pay a large fee (about $50-80 dollars) to rest for a few hours to a day. I had no money on me, but at this point I was fighting for survival.
I entered the lodge, expecting to be questioned or spoken to by someone managing the lodge. When nobody came to see me, I decided it was time to play in nonchalant. I took off my shoes and rested by the door for a moment, then headed into the bungalow. Rows upon rows of sleeping bags lined the floors and loft. I found a secluded corner, took off my sweaty shirt to dry it, and passed out in seconds.
When I came to a few hours later, I saw two japanese men sitting across the way from me. They were glancing at me and speaking to each other. “Uh oh,” I thought, “The jig is up.” Soon, an operator of the lodge came to me with a chart that showed names and prices. At first I couldn't understand, but it slowly dawned on me that he was asking if I had already paid. In my broken Japanese, I responded that I had no money. His reply was, “Get Out.” As I prepared my things to leave, I told him that I only came in because I thought I was going to die. He told me “Still bad, get out.” Well, business is business, I suppose.
With renewed energy and a dry shirt, I endured till the 9th station. The summit was finally within view, but it was still quite a distance away. With maybe another hour of climbing to go and the exhaustion affecting my psyche, I had a difficult decision to make. I could turn back after all this way, scurry back to the 5th station, and get the much needed rest that my body craved... Or I could finish this battle once and for all, reach the summit, and look back on this pivotal moment in my life with pride. A fire of conviction rose up from within me, and with unshakable determination I set off for the summit.
At 9:15AM, 21 hours after I left the restaurant near the train station, I had reached the summit of Mt. Fuji. Finally I had my Moment of Glory... but it only lasted for that one second. I immediately wanted to get the hell off of this cold, windy, barren mountain. But I did stop to savor the view and eat my bento lunch, which I had saved for when I reached this point. As I was about to depart, I saw climbers taking pictures by an obelisk that had the japanese writing signifying it was the summit. I needed to have this accomplishment captured in film, so I asked a random japanese climber, in japanese of course, if he could take my picture. He excitedly agreed and I positioned myself for the shot. If you look it up on Facebook, you can see in my face that I was exhausted, cold, and a little grumpy. However, I finally did it! I achieved the impossible, and in less than a day!
I'm almost finished, the last installment will be called:
Part 5: Energetic Descent
