Don’t Cry in Your Miso Soup

I’ve met the neighbor a few times. He’s a very kind gentleman who always gives the family omiyage when he comes back from a trip or just for fun. Takae has told me he’s a Christian and attends a church…somewhere. He lost his wife a few years ago and lives by himself in the suburban neighborhood. Active in a group for retired-age people he has some friends and stays busy. He also cooks for himself since his wife passed away which made everyone nervous when he invited us over for dinner. Okaasan made a casserole dish to bring…just in case.

We rang the doorbell and he invited us in warmly as we exchanged our shoes for house slippers in the genkan. He had place settings all around a large table and some food ready to eat. Everything looked delicious! Then the secret weapon came out: a woman from his active group offered to come and help him cook for the occasion! Aha. Looks like Okaasan didn’t need to make that casserole after all.

There was plenty of food to go around, course after course, and I couldn’t eat all of it. The fellows were drinking beer and sake to achieve the weekend mood; Otoosan’s face quickly turned bright red and Grandpa (Ojiichan) was talking livelier by the minute, hardly stopping for anyone’s input. I couldn’t understand most of what they were talking about but I enjoyed the uplifting atmosphere. That was, until, I noticed a change of pace in conversation. The kind neighbor who had invited us over was telling a story, using his hands to draw pictures in the air and punctuate his sentences. Everyone was listening respectfully and I caught a few words I recognized.

 Radiation.

 Bomb.

 Boat.

 Island.

 Family.

 Takae translated the story for me and I listened with two ears: one in Japanese for the emotion, and one in English for the meaning.

This kind man who invited us over watched his entire family die in Hiroshima. He was just a kid in first grade when the officials started evacuating the children, herding them onto large ferry boats to an island offshore for safety. His mother, father, and older siblings did not merit a ride, nor did any of his extended family of aunts, uncles, or grandparents. Just him, riding away across the inlet sea, turning around to see the mushroom cloud rise far up into the sky. He returned to the ashes of his family.

Someone asked how well he remembered it.

“Like it was yesterday. I remember everything.”

America did that. My ancestors did that. We killed his family, left him orphaned at age 7. Here he was sharing his dinner with me and looking at me with friendly, loving eyes, proud to have me as a guest in his house. I have never been so humbled in my life; I started crying into my miso soup with my head down. That kind of forgiveness is something I can’t even fathom except by the grace of God.

Essentially that is what the story of Jesus is all about: I did something terrible against God, betrayed him and turned my back on Him. I followed evil people and did wrong things like lying and cheating. These things against God can’t be allowed and I had to be separated from Him since His perfectness can’t be in the same place as evil. A price had to be paid for my mistakes. A high price: death. Only blood of a truly innocent person could save me from this penalty. But where can you find an innocent person willing to die for you? It’s not like there are sinless people just lining the streets looking for a one-way ticket to death for a crime they didn’t commit. Jesus did though; He volunteered to take my place. He died for me and forgave me of the sins that made Him die in the first place.

Sitting at the dining room table with this incredible man made me think of the sacrifice and forgiveness of Jesus Christ and I can’t help but tell both stories at the same time. They are just that powerful.

You can read history books all you want about WWII and why America dropped two atomic bombs on Japanese citizens. You can read about the horrors of the war from both sides and the how’s and why’s of men’s actions, explanations and strategies and excuses of the rules of engagement. What you can’t read about and what you’ll never truly understand is the forgiveness that comes with pure love unless you experience it. 

The rest of my vacation. Well, arriving Saturday afternoon I was quickly whisked away on the next train back into the heart of Tokyo to the river. Takae, her sister Yuko, and I battled onto the crowded trains on our way to the largest fireworks festival of the summer. Girls everywhere were dressed up in traditional yukata clothes and some guys wore jimbes. Everyone had a fan and people were giving them out on the streets. We met some friends at the last train station and got in line behind 200 people to board a bus to the event. We waited for a long time. Getting off the bus we went to a convenience store to get some drinks and then joined the masses walking down streets and alleys to the riverside. Parking and traffic cops were directing the hordes of people. We found more friends who had staked out a spot on flat ground and marked it with a blue tarp. Thousands of other people had done the same thing, making the ground look like a massive extension of blue river. The sun was just starting to send out orange and yellow rays into the clouds so we quickly opened our containers of homemade fried chicken to join the spread of other yummy foods people had brought. 

We sat and ate for the next two hours, enjoying the fireworks and commenting to each other. Up river we could see the distant Chiba fireworks lighting up the sky, and down river there were huge Mickey Mouse ears exploding into sparks in the space above Disneyland. It was a remarkably clear and pleasant evening scene, not too hot or too cold. There was barely a breeze making it difficult to see the fireworks at times because the smoke didn’t clear in time for the next set. We rode back the same way we came, again pushing through the masses of people on the train all the way home.

After Fuji, well, we pretty much just sat around for two days and did nothing but eat and sift through 547 pictures of the trip. I whittled them down to almost 200 and posted them on Facebook. You’re welcome.

We rented the Pirates of the Caribbean and The Soloist, neither of which they'd seen before. We also watched the footage Otoosan shot of us climbing the mountain. We laughed at our goofy selves.

One day Takae and I went into town to meet her friend Daniel and we went to a rabbit café. If you’ve never heard it's kind of a Tokyo thing. I think they started as “Cat cafés” where people could come and sip a drink while petting or snuggling a cat. Some places let you bring your own cat. Then rabbit cafés popped up and offered the same service. I’ve heard there are dog cafés too.  We went in and asked for an hour. After being seated and ordering a drink we got up and started chasing the bunnies wandering around the room. There were about 5 different bunnies in a glass room on the side of the building. We went in and sat on one of the once white leather couches, the bottoms clearly chewed and rubbed-on by little paws and teeth. They gave us crocs to wear as soon as we went in which saved us from worrying about stepping in rabbit pellets. Some rabbits were in cages, the males, we were told. The females were out and about, not allowed to mix with their opposite-gendered friends. They weren’t as happy to be picked up as I imagined, and I had to chase a few to get one to snuggle. They were cute, but I would rather just have a puppy. 

We wandered the streets of that district and I picked up some dried bananas from Taiwan and dried papaya from the Philippines. The gelato vendor made it an easy decision to stop there too. I found a cute skirt for 800 yen.

We peaced out and said goodbye to Daniel in a few hours in order to make it home in time with our dinner date with our neighbor, a widowed grandpa in need of some company. More on that in the next blog. 

As previously mentioned, I got back from a 3-day hiking journey on Friday night, threw my clothes into the washer and got to bed. In the morning I repacked my bags and took the 11:46 train on the way to Tokyo. That night we went to a fireworks festival and came back late (more on that in the next blog). Sunday morning was the beginning of epicness. Takae and I went to nearby Machida on reconnaissance. We went to two hiking stores picking up a spare pare of wool socks and waterproof hiking gloves. We went to a famous teashop where I bought omiyage for some special friends back home, and then to the library to return some books. Stopping in the CD section I spotted something. It was very alluring. I knew I would listen to it every day for the rest of my life until I’d memorized the whole thing.

What was it?

The 2 CD set of popular Disney songs. Bilingual version in English and Japanese. Oh yeah.

But I didn’t have time to put them on my mp3 player because we spent the rest of the afternoon packing.

Everyone met up in the bedroom.

“Okay everyone, put all your things next to your pack.” Said Otosan. He read down his master list: “Raincoat!”

We all put our raincoats in our bag.

“Rain pants!”

Check.

“Camp mug!”

Check.

“Cup of noodles!”

Check.

“Earplugs!”

Um, no.

He handed out everyone a tube of earplugs labeled with their initials. They’re for sleeping in the lodge with a hundred other hikers, of course. This guy thinks of everything.

“Mask!”

Um, no.

He handed everyone a plastic bag with two masks and a folded bandana of a different color. Mine was purple. J They’re for the trek down the dusty mountain side, of course!

“Snacks!”

Oh, that’s a big check for me. I brought a huge baggie of almonds, raisins, and craisins.

“Glucose!”

Huh?

For “energy” we were issued a large bag of pure sugar chunks…basically broken sugar cubes for those of you who remember pinching them from the refreshments table at church. Ahem.

I was pretty sure we weren’t running a marathon or doing any kind of activity that required immediate high doses of energy but whatever. We were also issued amino acid supplements or something like that in gel form. Tasted like plastic apples. I’m saving mine for the next 1 hour run I do.

After we packed everything up I returned to my room to repack everything in proper order of use.

I know you’re all wondering what I brought so I’ll tell you what you need to get for a successful trip on Mt. Fuji.

1.     Patagonia Torrentshell rain pants

2.     Mountain Hardware Stretch Cohesion rain shell jacket.

3.     Ex-officio breathable underwear. Awesome.

4.     Mountain Hardware Ascent Stretch Air Permeable Gaiters. Awesome. If you hike and don't have gaiters I suggest you buy some and change your life.

5.     2 Hiking poles

6.     Waterproof mesh-lined gloves

7.     Keen Gore-Tex-lined low-profile hiking boots.

8.     Smartwool mid-weight long sleeve shirt and pants (under layer)

9.     Nike super breathable/wicking short sleeve shirt.

10. Cheap pair of shorts, long sleeve tech shirt, cheap target fleece jacket, ball cap, warm winter hat, bandana, and sunglasses.

11. Personal items like sunscreen, Chap Stick, hand sanitizer, emergency blanket, masks, and deodorant. I forgot my toothbrush. Otoosan brought body wipes, first aid kit, tea, oxygen, and our legal papers/insurance info.

12. Backpack with Platypus 3 liter bladder and rain tarp.

13. Snacks: my almond/raisin mix, a few soyjoy bars, beef jerky, and chocolate. We ate two meals on the mountain provided by the hut where we stayed.

14. Camera. My little Sony Cybershot 3.1mp has been doing well for many years but it might be time to upgrade soon. Maybe I’ve dropped it too many times. 

15. Change purse with 100-yen coins. Bathrooms cost 200 yen each time and 300 at the top.

16. Towel and safety pins to use over the issued sleeping bags. Tens of thousands of people climb this mountain every year. Guess how often they do the laundry…

17. Money for souvenirs! They’re so expensive I don’t even want to tell you how much I paid for a keychain and postcard.

Okay, I think that’s about it. I used everything I brought except for the long sleeve shirt and mask.

Everyone tried to be in bed by ten and we were mostly successful. I was to tired from the past few days of traveling and hiking that I slept very well until the 4:30 wake-up call. We got the last few things together and packed up the car, grabbing breakfast at the 7-11 store along the way. I chose a few rice balls, yogurt, and vegetable juice knowing it would be awhile before I got dairy and vitamin C. Yuko, Takae’s sister, got dehydrated wonton soup and filled it with near boiling water at the store. Getting in the car she handed it to Takae who was sitting between us while she…I don’t know…got something or was doing something. 2 minutes later the hot soup spilled all over Takae’s thigh! It turned bright red and puffy. A little bit spilled on my leg too but not very badly. We pulled over and got out. Everyone was cleaning up the backseat of the car but I was looking at the leg. She needs ice! Yuko ran back to the 7-11 and came back with two frozen bottles of Calpice soda to put on the wound. Hahaha. We wrapped them in a towel and put them on the burn. After the car was cleaned up we headed back to the 7-11 so Yuko could buy another breakfast…not soup…and we finished eating in the car. 

In less than 2 hours we arrived at the base of the mountain, leaving our non-essentials in the car, lacing up our boots and hopping on the bus to station 5. As soon as we arrived in the parking lot it started to rain…like, torrential cats and dogs rain. We sheltered inside the building which was a weird fusion between gift shop and café. Ordering some soup and dessert we followed the rigid plan concocted by Otoosan to wait for 2 hours for our bodies to adjust to the new altitude of 2000 meters (about 6500ft.). Donning our raingear we stepped boldly onto the trail and began the 4 hr. walk up to station 7. 

After about 45 minutes Yuko asked us to walk faster. She had to pee and needed to reach station 6 a.s.a.p. Otoosan wasn’t about to break the “slow and steady wins the race/doesn’t get altitude sickness” pace and told her to go ahead and meet us there. So she trekked up ahead while we enjoyed the flora and fauna coming straight out of an old English novel. In the rain.

Approaching station 6 the rain subsided and the clouds parted to reveal the top of the mountain. Everyone turned around and started snapping photos of the summit so far away. Continuing up the trail and now reunited with Yuko we were suddenly taking more breaks and walking very slowly. I turned around to find Yuko with a bottle of oxygen against her mouth. Uh oh. Her sudden ascent to station 6 was a little too much for her body to handle and she never really recovered from it, nursing from the oxygen bottle all the way to the summit. 

Around p.m. we made it to station 7, an hour or so more than planned but it didn’t matter. Shoving our packs in our sleeping bunks we were summoned to a nice warm dinner of soup, rice, meat patty, pickled vegetables, and other things I don’t remember. Everything was delicious! 

Outside we watched the colors of the clouds change as the sun set on the opposite side of the mountain. Everything was clear and we could see the lights of the valley towns far below us. The temperature had dropped since our first step on the trail and now sat at what I call “fleece temperature” though the slight wind chill made it profitable to wear my windproof rain shell for ideal protection. 

Back in the lodge we faced a dilemma. 3 tiers of futon were set up the entire length of the room with a path down the center. The topmost tier was basically the attic where the roof made a triangle and the rafters separated sleeping hikers. Our rafter space was designated for 3 people so us three girls put our packs up there and hung our wet things up to dry. The parents’ space was right below us on the second tier but the people next to them took up more than their fair share, making it large enough for 1.25 people. Okaasan ended up bunking with us girls and we looked like a can of sleeping bagged sardines. Sleeping tightly didn’t bother me, but the used futons were so thin that even though they were stacked 3 on top of each other, they were so hard my hips hurt the entire night. I tried sleeping on my back and achieved about 20 minutes of sleep. The rest of the night I just lay their with my eyes closed and imagined I would drift off any second….one time I got bored and took out my ear plugs. Big mistake. All of a sudden my serene but uncomfortable sleeping quarters turned into a pig farm where all the pigs were scrambling to get out of the way of the bacon blade. Japanese people may be small but there’s no comparison to the snoring that comes out of them. It was so loud. I quickly reinserted my earplugs and resigned myself to just resting.

Up again at am or some ridiculous hour we all assembled outside to watch the sunrise from the East-facing station 7 on Subarishi trail. Beautiful and clear, it didn’t seem to matter whether or not we were on the summit. Most people stay the night at a low station and then climb up during the early hours to see the sunrise on the summit. This makes the trail at night very crowded and I imagine super crowded on the rim as well. I’m glad we were not up there. 

Now that our bodies had slept (or in my case rested) at 2400 meters we packed up again and took off to the top. The, uh, ladies in our group are a tough group to get going in the morning and we left later than the group leader anticipated. Yuko was still feeling terrible and we made what we called “manatee speed.” It was slow. We reached the 8th station and the trail merged with another popular trail.

We reached the 8 ½ station.

We reached the 9th station and saw tori gates leading up to the top. I could see the Japan flag waving on the distant summit.

Hours later we finally passed the lions and through the final tori gate arriving with a hundred other people at the summit. Actually it wasn’t the true summit but who cares. There were lots of foreigners milling about, people of all ages, children and grandpas, even a guy who’s climbed it over 20 times! We set up near a building to block the wind chill and boiled some water for our cup of noodles and tea. 

Japan is infamous for its plethora of vending machines. It is rumored you can buy just about anything from these machines and I have definitely seen some weird things. Electronics, sanitary items like deodorant and toothbrushes, beer, cigaretts, and all kinds of soda/coffee/juice/water/sports drinks that aren’t available in the US. At the summit, should your heart desire, you can buy a 12oz bottle of cold CocaCola for a mere 500 yen (about $5.50). Supply and demand. We bought some postcards and souvenirs, stamping them with the famous Fuji altitude stamps. We walked around the perimeter of the crater, stopping at the post office to mail them from the top of Japan. Ever gotten a postcard marked at 12,000 ft.? I didn’t think so. I’m also sorry I didn’t think that far ahead or I would have pre-addressed postcards to mail to all of you from the top. Sorry. 

The coolest thing I saw, apart from the sunrise, is a part in the crater that looks like Darth Vader. See for yourself.

Walking around to the opposite side of the crater we approached the true summit at 3776 meters, 12,388ft. Yata! From here it was just down, down, down, down, down, down…..

There was a bit of strong wind around the rim but nothing to fret over. It was mostly cloudy with the occasional break in clouds to make you take out your camera. We put our bandanas over our faces to protect against the dust coming down the mountain but ended up not needing them. The rain from the day before made the mountain soil texture quite nice for a dust-free hike. I walked backwards down the mountain to save my knees and muscles from hurting the next day. A very soft section of the trail made it fun to run and bounce in the sandy terrain, protected by my trusty gaiters of course. 

The sun started to set. Oh, it’s so pretty!

Wait. We were supposed to be off of the mountain by 3pm. What time is it?

Well, we busted out the flashlights because it was after six and we weren’t even past station 6 yet. Oh crap.

Getting into the tree line again the trail became narrower and there were roots everywhere. We went slowly but still overtook a family of 5 inching their way along. Only 2 flashlights between them, the 4 yr. old was clinging to mom’s hand with dad lighting the way, and the 8 yr. old and 6 yr. old shared a flashlight. I gave one of the kids my spare flashlight and we made them walk between us for safety. Two other guys came up behind us and opted to stay with the large group, making our party 12 people coming down the mountain in the dark. I stopped looking at my watch after that but we spent a near 36 hours on the mountain. We got home at 11:30pm and crashed. Poor Otoosan had to work the next day. The rest of us spent Wednesday unpacking and cleaning our gear. The only ones able to walk up and down the stairs with no negative effects were me and Okaasan, who had also walked down the mountain backwards because of her hurting knees. Oh yeah. 

So, I climbed Mt. Fuji, walked around the top, and didn’t get altitude sickness. I fulfilled my dream of many years and feel great.

I need a new dream.

Oh look, there are 192 countries I haven’t been to yet… 

So I like to hike, you already know that, but what you don’t know is what propels me to climb the next mountain.

The challenge, of course!

Now, in America this challenge is not very challenging as there are maps, blogs, pictures, and road signs aplenty. The only hard part is getting out of bed before 8am and deciding if you want grape or strawberry jam on your peanut butter sandwich. Sure, some mountains have a higher or faster rate of elevation gain, some trails are better maintained than others, and some require a 4-wheel drive vehicle to access the trailhead. These things are chump change compared to what I deal with in Japan. The language barrier kills you. Then try not owning a vehicle and all of a sudden you can't do ANYTHING without a ton of preparation. I pretty much felt like Mighty Mouse after this trip just for completing it with no major complications or calls to the rescue squad. (Not that we could...more on that later). 

Hiking in Japan as a foreigner who knows little Japanese requires preparation, planning, studying, and a little luck. I wrote a bit about it from my Adatara experience but this one was a little more involved as it required a two-night stay on the mountain. Since being stranded on a mountain was not how I wanted to start my vacation I asked Okubo sensei to call the mountain hut for me and make the reservation just in case I missed something in translation. I found someone crazy enough to go with me: Rachel.

We started out easily enough on the 8am train, walking to the station with our friends who were headed to Tokyo and Thailand for break. Parting ways we skipped up north on the world’s slowest bullet train ever. It stopped at everyone’s lemonade stand and garage sale on the way to Shinjo, a grueling 2-hour ride through the otherwise beautiful mountains. It was so slow that it cost LESS to ride up there than the short 1 hr train south to Tokyo. We transferred trains at the station only to realize that Rachel had left her cellphone in the seat pocket of the train! We talked to the station staff and they agreed to hold it for the next two days until we came back on our return route home. 

Taking two local trains we finally arrived at the quaint town of Nikaho or “Kisakata.” We bee lined to the beach and changed into our swimsuits in the wash building. On every dedicated swimming beach there is a changing building with men’s and women’s sections, toilets, and a foot wash station. American music featuring “Call Me Maybe,” the summer’s popular selection, was blasting through the loudspeaker. It was gonna be a great day.

Already p.m. we didn’t waste time getting in the water. We ended up running into a group of high school girls participating in an exchange program with their Japanese sister school in that village. The Americans were from Anacortes, WA! It’s a small world, after all.

We ran to the water’s edge and I gingerly dipped my toes in the next wave to lap on shore. It was warm! Why, hello Sea of Japan!

We brought a beach ball and enjoyed chasing and hitting it across the waves as we swam in the salty sea. After two hours of leisurely activity we changed and headed back to the station to catch our only bus up the mountain at 3:30. We met some fellow hikers on the bus. One man lent me his book written by an ancient samurai who had visited the area hundreds of years ago and wrote haiku about the flora and fauna. It had been translated into English.

After 45 minutes of switchbacks we arrived at the trailhead, two large parking lots with a few cars, vans, and campers. Three buildings were situated on the side of the mountain: The cafeteria/omiage building, visitor center, and sleeping lodge. We went to the lodge and checked in with the friendly manager. He brought out a huge bowl of fresh cherry tomatoes for all the guests to enjoy and we sat around watching the Olympics.    

Even though we’d packed enough food for dinner, we made the easy decision of visiting the cafeteria and had a nice plate of curry and rice before sitting on the grass to watch the sunset. The afternoon clouds blew away and revealed a lovely sunset across the Sea of Japan. Hundreds of dragonflies flew about, darting between hikers and photographers set up to watch the horizon. Simultaneously the full moon rose behind Mt. Choukai, lighting up the twin peaks with promise and tranquility. 

We were tired by p.m., what with the long travel and expending energy on the beach. However, we were stubborn and played a game of cribbage to put us in bed past the acceptable 9 o’clock hour. We grabbed futons out of the closet and slept soundly until 4am when the sun came streaming through our east-facing window. Good morning! Others in the lodge woke up too and started getting their gear together to climb the mountain. If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em! Since we were already awake and had to climb the mountain anyways we decided to set out early and were on the trail by 6am.

It was beautiful.

Stone stairs led the way up through the tree line and out into an open side of the mountain. A patch of snow was stuck on the side. Morning glories, thistles, mountain bluebell, foxglove, and other things I don’t know the names of adorned the trailside and alpine fields. 

There were plenty of other hikers, mostly retired age, but it was never crowded and easy to pass or be passed. We took our time up to the first mountain hut straddling a ridgeline. On one side the dramatic dropping slope to the Sea of Japan and a beach riddled with elegant windmills, the other an alpine lake stood before miles of valley and a distant Yamagata mountain range with snow-capped peaks. You should have been there. 

The sun was out in full force and showed no sign of being covered with pesky clouds. So we put on sunscreen.

Part two continued along this ridgeline until stopping for lunch on a log. I’m not sure how the log got there since there were no trees….

After lunch we reached the split in the trail, choosing to go left up the inside of the crater and then continue clockwise around the edge of the crater before returning to the same spot. A mini loop hike, essentially. It climbed up and down some rocks, a ladder, and along a steep ravine edge. We came down to a snowfield that had to be crossed, but a rope had been installed for guided travel. On the other side we met our friends from the bus who saw us crossing the snowfield and decided to wait for us. They also took pictures of us coming! We chatted for a few minutes before exchanging addresses as they promised to send us the pictures they’d taken. We continued across the ravine floor and traversed another snowfield. We finally reached the crater wall and started the ascent. Up, up, up the side of the wall we switch backed and climbed the rocky trail with the sun at our side. The greenery had long since faded to brown shrubs and rocks…of course. At last we made it to the last mountain hut where people walked around good-naturedly. A shrine and “bio toilets” completed the little compound. But that wasn’t the summit. No, the summit was another climb bouldering up rocks to places we couldn’t even see. This summit was a mini adventure trail easily circumvented by a connecting trail that would lead you straight to the rim and back on the circuit home. No thanks.

We bouldered up the rocks like little mountain goats and noticed the awesome formations made by the volcano. 

Then we reached the canyon. Well, it was a canyon to me. It looked huge and ominous. If you’ve seen 127 hours, it looked like they could have filmed it here…and now the little painted arrows are telling me to climb down there?! Little red flags started waving in front of my eyes. Despite the clearly marked trail into the death trap I refused to believe the evidence until I asked a Japanese person,

“Is that REALLY the trail to the summit?”

“Yes.”

Oh. Rats.      

Once I got over the terrifying prospect of pinning my arm between rocks and being stuck for 5 days I had fun climbing down the canyon and then climbing back out and up to the summit. It was so clear and beautiful I can’t even describe it.

We traversed yet another snowfield that went down the saddle of the twin peaks, this one more steep and treacherous than the last. We slipped a few times even with the use of poles. Up the side of the saddle we went to the twin peak for posterity’s sake and then began the long walk along the ridgeline home. 

After a time I felt like I was getting burned and should reapply some sunscreen. I unscrewed the cap and rubbed it in with the opposite hand. All of a sudden a sharp pain from my leg caused me to catch a huge fly creature sitting there eating me. With my non-lotion hand I swatted at it and it flew off, but not before the cap I was holding bounced off of a rock and fell doooooooown a black hole in the rocks. Crap. What do you do with a capless bottle of sunscreen?! Rachel put some tinfoil from her sandwich around the top and I stuck it inside my empty carrot stick bag. Hopefully it won’t be a bag of sunscreen by the time we get back.

We joined up with our original trail at the split, but soon split off again to take advantage of a trail around the alpine lake we’d seen earlier. This was probably a bad idea since Rachel was super low on water and I wasn’t far behind. Large stacks of wood placed right in the middle of the trail by a helicopter further set us back. They were building materials for a nice plank trail system but hadn’t been built yet. And the trail was on the steep slope of a mountain…hard to just walk around them. When we finally reached the lake it was a little disappointing, hot, and we were thirsty and tired. My left hip was hurting really badly. Another junction in the trail prompted us to take the shorter, direct route back to the first mountain hut…and straight up the side of the ridge. It took seemingly forever as the sun blazed overhead and we picked out a trail from the rocks and grasses. When we finally reached the top at the hut we used the toilets and got back on the main trail home. I took my dear sweet time, nursing my hip and taking a little siesta in the middle of it. Poor Rachel was about to die of dehydration and made it back to the lodge as quickly as she could. Slowly I made it down the last leg of the mountain finally reaching the comforting sight of the lodge. Bed! Water! They called to me. I drank a full liter straight off, and another one within the next hour. My arms actually burned…I can’t even remember the last time that happened. 

We spent this evening watching the sunset again, eating the last of the tomatoes and watching the Olympics…but no cribbage. We didn’t care that we were in bed by 8 o’clock this time, more than happy to turn off the lights and rest our aching, burning bodies.

Up with the sun again I ate my pre-made pancakes and we got on the 6:30 bus down the mountain. There are only two buses each day. We had planned on spending several hours at the beach and coming home late that night, but since we couldn’t spend any time in direct sunlight without pain we cut it down to 2 hours. The area outside the swimming area was filled with white boats…but no people in them. Keeping a weather eye on the scene we spotted the fins of divers on the surface of the waves. I’m not sure what they were diving for though. A few families came to park on the beach and we left to catch our train…and pick up Rachel’s abandoned cell phone. We came back to town without a problem just a little tired and burnt. I unpacked and threw everything into the laundry because it had to be packed the next day—Mt. Fuji!