AsiaJapanFuji

A Hellish trot downhill

Fuji Travel Blog

 › entry 82 of 93 › view all entries
Random Observation/Comment #89: Conversations tend to die off when you barely have energy to stay awake, let alone climb down a mountain. “So… what’s up?” “What’s up? What’s up!?! Shut the hell up! I’m going to rip your head off and crap down your neck! �" Oh, Sorry! I’m really not a morning person…”
I urged my followers to begin our next journey down the mountain mostly because I would have needed a Phoenix Down if they didn’t move in the next minute. I knew that my Sun God would help warm me with its love and clemency. Continuous movement is essential during the ascent and descent to maintain blood circulation. If you stop for too long, you just fall asleep and won’t move for a really long time. You’d probably start hitting people who try to convince you to continue, but think otherwise because it would require exerting an amount of energy that just didn’t exist.

At one point, the mountain angered me. I wanted to jump up and down to stomp it and then verbally abuse it with “your mom” jokes. It really didn’t help anything except for my insanity case. It was so cold and I was so tired that I just didn’t want to be there anymore. I wanted to sit down and fall asleep on the side of the mountain. The sandy, gravel made my socks brownish red and every hair on my body felt starchy �" covered with a mixture of frozen sweat and random debris.
The descent had a completely different terrain and method of walking. I was used to slowly conquering one step at a time, but here, you should do this really weird horse trot to efficiently use your energy. Walking slowly down the 45 degree slant in wavy beach sand will quickly tire the back of your legs and take you forever.
However, if you pretend like you’re skiing down the gravel with a few skips and small jumps, you’ll get down the mountain much more quickly. Be sure to walk in a zig zag path to get the most surface area on your shoes and to prevent rolling down the mountain. Don’t be embarrassed if you collapse. You will definitely be exhausted and the new style of walking will take a little time to get used to. Luckily for you, there is plenty of time to practice before you reach the bottom. The layers of clothes were very important at this point because my clothes were completely drenched.
I felt terrible, but every time I looked up and outward around me, I was overwhelmed with the beauty in front of me. I couldn’t stay angry at the mountain when it gives me those puppy eyes.
As I stumbled down the mountain like the undead, I looked to my left to see the path of our ascent. It was scary how much we climbed that night, and I was surprised that we made it that far. The main thing to keep in the back of your mind about the hike down is the lack of stations. Rest a little more often because you won’t be able to just rush to the next station to rest.
We eventually made it back to the fifth station by 10AM. It’s actually quite a good feeling to see your accomplishments, but when you finish, you’ll be thinking “I’m never doing that again.” After thinking about it for an overly extended period of time, I feel exactly the same way. Let’s just keep it as a check off of the to-do list.
~See Lemons Wish for flat ground

Join TravBuddy to leave comments, meet new friends and share travel tips!
Random Observation/Comment #88: It’s easy to glimpse over sayings like “breath-taking” and “once in a lifetime” in a blog, and take them as a bit of literary exaggeration. As I think about the words I’ll use to describe such a beauty, I find these fluffy adjectives and metaphors passing through my vocabulary. I can’t quite decide which examples best paint the picture. These feelings of excitement, happiness, admiration, and amazement mix differently in everyone’s mind when faced with G-d’s painting of the world (wait, when did I become religious? ). It’s the same interpretative openness given to works of art - be it paintings, writings, sculptures, or designs, everything can be seen in their own unique way. I found that sometimes the best way to explain something is simply, “Wow.

I was an ice sculpture 3,800 meters above sea level. I couldn’t feel my fingers, toes, or calf muscles, yet the frozen pose and facial expression was one of peacefulness and satisfaction. All of my stress, pains, and worries had been dust in the wind – completely cleared from my mind. I tried my hardest to absorb the moment by focusing on my senses. I had a bit of a sniffle from the gusting winds, and I couldn’t exactly feel anything. Plus, my eyes were a little tired from climbing for 7 hours straight. Never the less, I tried. I had climbed so far – I wasn’t going to let something like sleep deprivation and exhaustion stop me from reaping my benefits. The photographer side of me took over and spent the full 30 minutes of the sunrise sequence snapping shots left and right.
I even used the walking stick as a makeshift tripod to get some steadier shots.
Before the sun showed its body through the clouds, the entire sky lit with a gorgeous rainbow that devoured the horizon. We were looking from above the gloomy clouds into another world. The contours in the distance aligned to create a lake of orange inhabited by a shadowed sea monster. It was a land of magic and mysteries. It was a castle in the sky that would always stay in the distance – an unreachable beauty. The clouds looked so soft and solid. I wanted to have them surround my feet and gently lift me closer to that place.
I thought about flying, but I thought it would take too much effort and I wouldn’t enjoy myself. I mean, we can all run as fast as we can, but we rather walk or not move at all.
I feel if I had the power to fly, I’d be too lazy to use it efficiently. Anyway, I would rather have those soft clouds take me around. They would have to go really slow and include seat warmers and windshields because I don’t want to be cold seeing the whole world from the sky’s perspective. Maybe I’ll just get a helicopter while I’m wishing for a magical cloud that lifts me to space at my whims. It would have to be a silent helicopter, though. I think I’m too realistic in my imagination.
The full view had so much information to analyze. We were so far up that I could distinguish a little bit of a curvature in the horizon. I probably made up that curvature because the horizon was very difficult to see with the clouds blurring the line.
Either way, I was overwhelmed with ideas. The first glimpse of a ray of light looked like an egg slowly emerging from the ground like a lava-lamp bubble. I spread my arms to embrace the warmth and welcome the bringer of life. Thank you, Sun – I can see the miracles you perform and your direct influence to my everyday life.
The top of the mountain was such a relief to reach. I felt like dancing, except I was way too cold and tired. I think if I jumped, the gusts of winds would have blown me away. The red stamp on that walking stick (not to mention those millions of pictures) proved my presence. I’ve never felt so many mixed feelings of happiness, successfulness, tiredness, and coldness in my life. I screamed, “Yattttaaaa!!” and then immediately after that, “Totemo samui!! Oyasumi!” (which means, It’s really cold! Good night!) I really wanted to walk around the crater area and take more pictures, but I couldn’t even keep my arms still for the image stabilizer.
I was running on empty.
In my most desperate time, I saw a glowing savior. It was beautiful and made me chuckle. I ran over to it and gave it a hug. I couldn’t fit my arms around the entire body, but I was so happy to see civilization. I prayed and gave my donations to receive my well deserved reward – a steaming, hot cup of coffee. Wait, what? They really do have vending machines everywhere…
~See Lemons Simply Amazed

Fuji
photo by: jennjeff1