My mind was all set for the supposed climb, I have wished to join another colleague who will climb on the first weekend but I have prior appointment that was set on the second week.  Unfortunately to the last minute, our Japanese team leader had to cancel our climb since he will be out of the country.  And so I missed two Saturdays that August summer.

I knew somehow that before August ends, I will be up there on Mt. Fuji basking in the glorious rays of the golden sunrise.

Another chance came when a good friend invited me to join their group for the climb the next weekend.  But again, for some reason I just can’t join their group.

This time around, I was much more determined to climb Fuji-san with or without a company.  I tried alone but failed.  I hate to admit it but without clear timing of my directions I missed the last bus that would bring me to Mt. Fuji.

I felt bad about those missed opportunities but later laughed at it because I knew very well that it’s just a matter of timing.

The last weekend of August was the final week where climbers could trek the summit.  Officially, the trek to the summit opens only from July till end of August.

I told my close friend about my last chance to see the sunrise on Mt Fuji this year and he was willing to join me.  I was mighty glad to have found a good company. I will always be grateful for this colleague.

It was the longest Saturday I ever had last August 26, after the company cruising and beach activity, my colleague and a very good friend Elmer, headed to the nearest train station for Shinjuku via Chiba and Tokyo lines.  The bus in Shinjuku left at 7:30PM.  It took us 2 hours and 45 minutes to reach Mt. Fuji via expressway.

On the fifth level, we could feel the biting cold and so we were compelled to add another shirt and a jacket for the long trek to the summit that started at 10:45PM.

A night trip to the summit is not to be feared of.  It was the cold and the sleepless night before us that zapped completely all the energies in us.  Good thing a nice company could lift your spirit up.

Many Japanese and gaijins have trekked this dusty trail to take a glimpse of life high above the clouds.  Unmindful of the cold, we continued the seemingly endless stairs to heaven deep into the heart of the night.

It was not long before I thought that climbing Fuji-san was not really too difficult a task.  A willing heart could take you everywhere you wish but a tired body needed some time to recuperate.  A break or two did the job of convincing me that heaven is almost here.  Or so I thought.

At 3:00AM, I craved for sleep but for very obvious reason I just could not.  The silvery starry night on that sweeping horizon was such a forceful beauty that kept me moving.  One step at a time helped me realize that the trek to the summit is not always to the swift or to the strong.  Sooner or later I shall have my own glimpse of this eternal beauty that is known only to those who dare the heights and the colds of the northern sky.  

First Sign

At last, the first glow of the purple orange sky was about to break loose.  My good friend was telling me to hurry up.  I was worried that I might trigger the past injury on my left knee the last time I climbed Mt. Banahaw.  But with 30 minutes to spare, we had to be on the original 8^th  station before 5:00AM.

Gasping for breath as we trudge ahead in time, I was lucky to have bought a knee support in the only hiking shop I saw in Shinjuku, it helped a lot in keeping my left knee bending forward.  The last ten minutes was very exhausting for me.  We could observe the sunrise anywhere up here.  But to secure a place to mount our tripod was crucial for us. Yes we carry a compact tripod that stretches to about one meter high, a 35mm SLR and a speed light.  Our modest aim was to pin Fuji sunrise on our walls.

We were not mistaken and I was not denied to behold the grandest and most spectacular show on earth.  It happens here every morning when the rest of the world is still fast to sleep. Once more, I was mighty glad I had this one moment in time.

The shimmering lights of golden yellow, purple orange and deep crystal blue colors mixed perfectly together in a landscape by which only the hand of God could paint.  The piercing beauty just above the sea of clouds was a panoramic display of the magnificence of our Creator. Behold the northern exposure unveiled.  It was one moving scene I will always burn in my memory.   

Never before did I gaze on the starry  wonders of the night spinning fast the mountain clouds. Never before did I stare onto this huge ball of fire that gently penetrates the darkness of the hour.  The brimming skyscape from where I stood flooded my soul.  I was humbled myself like a speck of dust in the universe.

The camera shutter ripped the silence of the early dawn until at last the warm rays of the glorious sun bathed us assuring me that each morning, for as long as the sun arise, there will always be a new beginning.  Indeed, words more often than not fail to describe the very essence of that moment.  I tried hard to at least approximate the memory that still lingers on my thoughts with the photos we have taken.  It had to be a moment I hope my family and friends could see and experience for themselves the worthiness of our existence.