Okay, where did I leave off? Oh yeah! . . . slowly devoured by nightfall. :-)
With the wind kicking in, along with the wetness and cold . . . you can imagine how miserable things got. Every step became harder and harder. With the air being thin, we were out of breath all the time. If you were sitting down to rest, all it would take to get your heart beating like crazy would be to simply stand up. And this was only halfway through our journey. In other words, there was still another 8 hours to go.
My group continued to trudge along, plunging our sticks into the rocks and gravel. Stopping to take pictures was no longer a desirable option. At this point, we were just trying to keep moving. During this time, I started to fall behind a little. My group would call out to see if I was okay or try to get me to speed up. I hadn't experienced mountain sickness, but I knew that I couldn't possibly move any faster without some serious repercussions so I continued to shuffle along at my own pace.
Now allow me to reiterate that this was just the beginning of the struggle. (I really cannot emphasize that enough...and actually, one could argue that we hadn't even reached the "tough" part yet.) I remember that the mountain cabins were still popping up out of nowhere, so we were able to make a stop and get some coffee and even force down have another pb&j sandwich. It was at this particular stop that I remember getting my "Moses Stick" stamped with the emblem of a tiger. I looked at one of my friends and laughed out, "Uh oh, it's a tiger. I guess it's getting serious now." I had no idea how right I was.
After this stop, there was a whole lot of climbing. And I mean, CLIMBING. Like on your hands and knees, gripping onto cold, wet, rocks . . . in the dark. When we were upright, it was a serious uphill walk and I honestly don't know which one was worst. An icy chill was creeping into my bones and the wind whipped at my face along with rain and midst. Although it was night, the clouds were still very much present and they continued to "work their magic." It was at this very moment that almost every scripture in the bible that mentioned mountains came flooding to memory. Moses in the mountain. Jesus on a mountain. David hiding in the mountains. The Isrealites hiding in the mountains. God being compared to . . . what else . . . a mountain. It was like I suddenly realized what it all meant. These people weren't climbing hills. And there is absolutely nothing casual about a mountain . . . NOTHING. I can totally understand God being compared to a mountain. I thought about the women, children and animals that had to walk through the mountains back in biblical days. I thought about what kind of shoe wear they had. I wondered if those people had water-proof . . . well, water-proof anything. And I got a deeper understanding as to why everyone in the book of Exodus complained so much. (Sorry if I'm confusing any of my non-believers out there, but I'm sure most of you know that I'm a student of the bible.)
So yeah, a whole lot of introspection going on. Either way, it felt like forever until we reached the next cabin. Along the way, we collapsed onto rocks on the side of the path, resting and gasping for air. Mountain sickness had kicked in for some of the people in our group and there were groans of queasiness. And forget about pictures! It was life or death now. There was an unspoken consensus when we finally reached the next stop, that we would attempt to get some rest in one of the hotels.
Now the funny thing about getting to each stop was that you always, ALWAYS felt like giving up right before you reached it. Someone would say, "the stop's ahead" and your body seemed to respond with, "I quit!" Personally, I would crawl to the first landing and literally hoist/roll my body over to the side to make room for anyone behind me. Then I sat there until my heart stopped pounding through my chest.
When we reached the landing, we saw a bunch of people standing inside of a large cabin that seemed to give off a golden glow from the inside. There was heat radiating from the building and the people inside were eating hot noodles and walking around in sweaters and tights. The thing that really stood out to my group was the piles and piles of blankets and comforters next to some of the people gathered around a huge heater. Everyone looked so happy . . . and dry.
"Reservation only!" the guy shouted when someone from our group asked about renting some beds. Everyone looked around with confusion and sadness. "Reservation only!" he repeated, and shut the door in our faces, in order to drive home the point that he hated us and wanted us to die on the top of Mt. Fuji.
Despite the fact that we couldn't actually go into this resting facility, our group had hit a wall. We weren't moving. So we just stood there for a while. At one point, we attempted to sit at the entrance to the cabin and get some indirect heat from the lights that glowed from within (I'm getting sad just typing this), but unfortunately, we were kicked out by the "Reservations Only Guy" and had to join the other "Fuji-homeless" along the side of the building.
So I turned to see the above picture. My friend (who'd gotten sick) was sleeping on a wet bench out in the rain and freezing cold. It was then that I turned to the one guy in our group and said, "Things just got real, huh?" And as funny as that might sound, reading it off of a blog . . . it wasn't funny at all. He looked at me, with the most somber face imaginable and said, "Yeah, it sure did."
We waddled along to the side of the adjacent building (which was the bathroom facility), spread out our torn up plastic jackets and planted ourselves on the ground. The smell emanating from the wall was terrible, but being next to a building was a little warmer than just sitting out in the open air. It was at this moment, that one of my friends became anointed with insanity. She literally began running around and entertaining us. She made us laugh so hard that I truly believe it gave us the strength to go on (and I mean that). I could never imagine that I would have been laughing while sitting on the ground, against an outhouse in the pouring rain . . . but it was possible.
So after a while, we stood up and started out again, aching joints and all. I can't really say we were refreshed, but we were moving again so that was progress, I guess. It was a couple of hours until we reached another landing. And trust me, we felt every second of it. Each step felt impossible. When we finally reached the next landing, the "littlest" member of our group negotiated a way for us to get inside one of the reservation only "restaurant" cabins and actually get some warmth. We sat inside eating udon noodles and drinking coffee for fifteen minutes. Despite the strenuous physical activity, I wasn't hungry but in order to be allowed inside the cabin we had to order (and actually be eating) food. So after our 15 minutes was up, we got kicked out and stood outside of the building trying to figure out what to do next. The guys from the small "restaurant" cabin allowed us to sit on some benches in front of their facility. They stood outside, smoking cigarettes and laughing at us as we huddled together to keep warm.
After laughing and pointing for a good twenty minutes, one of the guys came over and gave us a package that contained a foil blanket. At this moment, me and another girl got a little . . . well, we cried. It was the mixture of that kind act and my friend's sudden remembrance of a story about some people who starved to death in Nazi Germany 70 years ago (don't ask - odd things come to mind when you are in extreme conditions.)
After being at this stop for maybe 2 hours, we finally got up and started out again.
Okay, this post is getting way too long and I need to go to bed. I guess I'm going to have to actually do a Part III.
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