Team 2 was no where to be seen, but we weren't alone. Since it was a weekend and the opening weekend of the hiking season, even in the crappy weather there were tons of people headed towards the top. It was an odd scene... dots of lights from the hikers and big flourescent lights from the inns and shelters dotting the trail as far as the clouds allowed us to see. We unfortunately got stuck behind the JTB group (which had started an hour ahead of us) fairly quickly. They were exiting another shelter and their leader blocked the other trail traffic so they could start as a group. I was very annoyed. Particularly since they were very slow and constantly stopping for breaks. It took about a half hour to slog past their group and I'm sure they were just as annoyed that we were passing them.

Not that the hike was easy... at all. I was feeling completely wimpy and totally wet. I would take a few steps and pause, repeat, until reaching the turn in the upward heading zig zag trail where I would pause longer, sometimes taking another bite of Snickers. Tom's light died almost right away, so after passing the group I spent most of the time leading. It was hard to see even with the light: my light, being attached to my forehead, created a beam right in front of me which was filled with the reflection of the zillion rain drops and the fog, which was was difficult to see past. Step by step we continued towards the other lights, swearing aloud at the weather. I knew there was no chance it would blow over by sunrise, but we'd passed the last shelter before the top so stopping wasn't even an option had we considered it (which we never did). There had been plenty of others taking shelter as we'd passed, but frankly once we were wet there was really no point in waiting.

We played tag team up the mountain with a number of small clumps of hikers, sometimes I was in the lead, then I would take a break and the other groups would pass, etc. It was pretty boring, actually... we couldn't see anything, could barely hear each other and we were drenched. At one point we passed through a torii (the Japanese gates) that I thought probably marked station 9 but that's all there was so it wasn't real concrete motivation. There was no telling how much further we had to climb. Then out of the darkness, I heard someone exlaim, "Tom?". It was team 2! I had been climbing directly behind Sara for probably 10 or 20 minutes, but I hadn't recognized her nor their voices. When we went to pass them, I still didn't recognize Danielle, nor she I, but somehow she realized it was Tom. They'd been climbing all night in the rain and were exhausted and Jaclyn's feet were aching. They were a bit miffed that I hadn't mentioned all the climbing involved, but I had to admit I might have selectively forgotten that after the first climb. oops. Oh well... when climbing the highest mountain in Japan its probably safe to expect there to be a little work involved, right? Anyway, it was pretty crazy to meet up with them. I was relieved that they were still climbing and hadn't quit.

Finally we began to hear shouting above us. I tried to ignore it and not get my hopes up, but we were nearing lights and I was excited that it could possibly be the top. Indeed, after several more zig zags I saw the stone lions and the big torii marking our arrival at the 10th and final station at the top of Mt. Fuji (3770 some meters). I hollered and yelled and was just thrilled to be done. There was another group that had just made it and had paused there and were congratulating us... it was nice to have our own little welcome. Knowledge that we'd finished actually energized me and I bounded ahead and found the (still almost empty) free shelter beyond the torii. With a welcome and a congratulations, the shelter worker welcomed us in. We found a spot near the wall, took off our bags and soaked jackets and just sat. I was pretty convinced that I was insane for putting myself through the climb of the entire mountain, particularly since it was obvious there was going to be no sunrise to look forward to. It was about 4:15am and as it inched closer to sunrise time, the sky merely got shades lighter. We didn't even bother to watch.

Instead, we warmed up with glasses of sweet rice wine (which normally would be pretty nasty, but it was warm and I was not) and bowls of ramen. Actually, Tom got the bowl of ramen, then made the mistake of offering me some. I was so delerious I forgot to give it back until I'd eaten over half of it. He was just sitting there staring at me until I realized what I was doing and began apologizing profusely. Good thing the guy loves me... (why??!). I don't think we actually were there more then 45 minutes. Already cold and soaked, the exhuastion began to set in as we got quieter and quieter. The shelter was soon packed and noisy, but I could have easily fallen asleep at my spot on the bench. We decided we needed to keep moving, and everyone was eager to get down off the mountain. Suited back up, we wound our way through the other climbers back outside. Once again, it was far too cloudy and windy to see into the crater. I was frankly too angry at Fuji to be dissapointed! Due to the weather, we also decided not too climb around the crater to the trail we'd originally planned to take for the descent (famous for sand slides where you can literally run down the side of the mountain) and instead opted for the closer downward trail.

The trip down the mountain was rather unremarkable. After about an hour, the sun peeked out from the clouds and dried up all the rain (dum, dum, dum). We could see a huge section of the mountain above us. After another while, we could see through a tiny slot in the clouds out to the coast and the ocean (miles and miles and miles away). By 7 in the morning, it was almost entirely clear to the top and the clouds were below the 5th station. Tom and I grumbled that we would have done better to sleep in and finish the climb in the morning... but we were too tired and it would have been too disspointing to dwell on the thought... we just kept climbing. Actually, though we hadn't taken the "official" sand slide route, our path involved a lot of sliding. The lava rocks were just in piles, every step you took you could take advantage of another 5 inches of slide as they moved beneath your feet. Of course, this also meant each of us spent some quality time wiping out. Ouch.

The climb down took less than 3 hours but it seemed like we would never reach the 5th station. The last section was the worst... my entire body ached and it was begining to get very warm. I just wanted to stop walking. When the buildings came into view, I was too tired to even be very happy. All I could do was sit down. We were finished!

And that, was that. I called my dad quickly so that no one would worry as my cell phone messages had stopped when my phone died. It was nice to get some sympathy about the weather. We snacked a bit, dried out our clothes and feet in the sun, and snagged a taxi back to the station (in which we all fell asleep... team 2 had pulled an all nighter to the top and down). At the station we boarded trains to Otsuki, then the girls and I headed back to Matsumoto and Tom to Shinjuku. We were all out cold immediately.

In summary (ha! told you this would be overwhelming!), I'm glad I went but very dissapointed in the weather. It will be a good memory, a fun story and a checkmark on a list. I had a good time and am recovering well. I think I'll be going to bed before 10 all week though. Thanks for the encouragement and if you come to Japan... admire Fuji from afar... the view's much better from off the mountain. ;)