Part II: Mountain Climbing is for Suckers
Holy %&#*! This is insane! Without
a doubt this is the most strenuous physical challenge I have ever undertaken in
my life, and it's being performed on a freezing cold mountain where I have now
been exposed to the elements for more than six hours, with at least two more to go
before even reaching the top (oh and completely forgot about the way down).
There is a long line of idiots waiting for their turn to take just one step
forward up an increasingly vertical path on this mountain, and I'm among them.
Why, oh why did I think this was a good idea?! No wonder there's a suicide
forest at the bottom of this mountain- I'm about ready to chuck myself down! I
should definitely turn back. I am not prepared for this clothing-wise, not to
mention mentally or physically. Oh look, there's some snow a few steps over-
good thing you are dressed for winter. Oh look, there's ice collecting on your
dollar-store gloves and you're starting to lose feeling in your hands. Moron!!!
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| lights going up the mountain- the last time I had the wherewithal to take a photo |
By the time I reached the 7th station I was already freezing. I
went straight into a bathroom and upon discovering that heated toilet seats
were not only possible but actually existed (!) at nearly 9,000 feet, I
proceeded to take full advantage and sit for what seemed like 10 minutes. When
I exited, there was a line... but you just can't care too much about other
people when you're an idiot up a mountain in far less than adequate all-cotton
clothing that you would wear to walk your dog for a half hour in a Wisconsin winter.
I set out again.
I hated my life from the 7th to the 8th station. Rounding each
corner provided some fresh hell. Suddenly the trail was not a trail anymore but
a veritable traffic jam of people hauling themselves up boulders, having to
wait for the person in front of them to move in order to gain just one more
hand- or foot-hold. I stood sullenly in the queue, cursing under my breath in
increasing dismay at how long and difficult and cold it was. I made a mental
note to tell my sister that there was NO
WAY I would be keeping our
plans to climb Kilimanjaro when I visit her in Africa next year. When I arrived
at the 8th, I threw myself down on the wooden floor next to the lodge doors. I
had to wait for a long time before I could even manage the line for the toilet.
When I went in I was thinking I was lucky it hadn't rained yet. After emerging only
a short time later, I realized that my luck had just run out. Water had been
added to the equation: cold + wind - intelligent planning = misery.
I lost my friend after the 8th station. She had just arrived when
I was ready to head out again. 11:40pm was the last time I saw her that night.
I never connected with the group either. From that moment on I was truly on my
own. The next segment was a blur. Somewhere along the line I probably
started to lose my ability to process complete thoughts. I must have been
uttering pathetic whimpers as I slipped on the rocks and tried to prevent
myself from getting blown off the side of the mountain. I can no longer distinctly
recall arriving at the Main 8th Station (yes, there were two 8th
stations for whatever reason). In trying to find out the name of the lodge I
was near, in case it was the place I was meant to meet my friend, I bumped into
a girl whose accent I recognized as Midwestern- she was actually from
Wisconsin. This gave me renewed energy as I now had someone to commiserate
with. We both joked about how mental it was that every Japanese person on the mountain
was overly prepared (in reality, we were actually keenly envious of their lack
of suffering). We set off toward the top together.
When we reached the 9th station and realized that it was just an
abandoned building half-buried by stones, we stopped to get some reprieve from
the biting wind that was hurling ice at us (it was below freezing at that
altitude). It wasn't long however before we had to continue; we would never
make it to the top if we didn't a) get in the line and b) keep moving to stay
warm. We were again scrambling up the rocks with our hands. I had to stop and
rest so I lost her; after the short-lived camaraderie, I was alone again. I
staggered on, losing feeling in my fingers and eventually my hands. I appear to
have blocked out the rest of that time, but my next memory is of seeing a torii (arch in front of Japanese
shrines), which made me realize that
I was nearing the top, or crossing the threshold of death… either way I was
pretty positive about my journey nearing an end.
When I climbed over the edge and saw that people were gathering alongside
a structure and no longer walking forward, I dragged myself over to an empty
space. Two middle-aged Japanese men were sitting in a doorway, and I pushed
myself into the corner. I tried to set my backpack in front of me to create a
barricade against the wind. I also pulled out a towel to try to get some
warmth- it was soaked in seconds. I was heavily shivering, and the men tried to
talk to me out of apparent concern: “Daijobu desuka?” “Yes, I’m ok,” I managed.
They pushed their taller backpacks around me to further shield me from the
wind. I slumped forward to try to retain my core heat… and fell asleep.
I woke up suddenly and sat bolt upright. I realized that everyone
had gone, except for the two climbers next to me. They seem to have been
waiting for me, because once they saw that I was awake they again asked if I
was ok and then said goodbye, explaining that they were going to meet a friend.
As there was still about 20 minutes to sunrise, I set about trying to get warm.
That’s when I realized I couldn’t. I was shivering uncontrollably, trying to
exercise to get blood back into my extremities. It was getting lighter outside,
which revealed that my hands were actually turning blue. I also couldn’t feel
the lower half of my face. I could feel that every single layer that I had on down
to the last was thoroughly and completely drenched. There was nothing warm or
dry in my pack because of the shoddy rain cover that kept blowing off on the
entire climb. I had to move…
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