Today was the big day, when I was to pit myself against the 1,700 m high Rishiri Fuji. I have been saying for a couple of years that my time for big hikes is over, but I am fascinated by this tall mountain that rises from the bottom of the ocean to form its own island. In every respect a symmetrical andesitic stratovolcano, the top has been carved into a jagged "horn" by the action of glaciers, giving it a majesty that not every mountain develops.
I was starting from sea level, at 5 am, and climbing to 250 m was a long but very easy hike, through a beautiful forest of oaks and birches. I thought that I was going to be the only person on the mountain, but was soon joined by Japanese hikers who were fast and intent on getting to the top at a reasonable hour. Between 250 and 400 m the slope started to increase notably, and I met a tall, slow-moving man who told me he came to Rishiri every year for exercise and recreation. He asked my age, and in turn responded that he was 77 years old (rats, I cannot quit climbing for at least another 7 years!). His goal was to reach the 800 m station, so I knew I had to go higher than that.
What follows was a long grind, carefully placing every step to avoid slipping on the subrounded andesite and dacite fragments. The legs start to get tired, and you ask Why am I doing this to myself? As the slope increased the forest was replaced by tall scrub, so the views were not as pristine as I would have liked. Reaching 800 m, at 9 am, gave me an excuse to take a break, drink some water, and have a rice ball that had been kindly prepared for me by the hotel. From here I had a good 100 degree view of the island, which from this vantage point looked mantled by a fuzzy cover of green. The buildings of town looked awfully small.
The last push was tough, particularly because the path climbed over jagged rocks in "steps" that were sometimes half a meter in height. I had with me a sturdy walking stick that I could use for support, but otherwise had to do some contortions that I will probably have to pay for over the next couple of days. All the time I kept remembering that what goes up must go down, and that was not a happy prospect. I finally reached 1,300 m around 11:30 am, and from this vantage point had a fabulous view over the island, and of the glaciated peak of the mountain rising another 400 m above me. The “horn” looked spectacular and tough, as if taunting lowly humans to reach Olympus through its steep aretes.
There we are a couple of young women there as well, and as we made light conversation we exchanged views on what was the best way to proceed, although deep inside we already knew that this was the end of the hike for us. From 5 am to 12 noon we had been walking for 7 hours, which meant we would need at least 3.5 hours to descend. Getting back before 5 pm was the safe thing to do, so we took some pictures, ate some snacks (I had my second rice ball then), and started on the way back.
Jesus was lucky when he only had to run his Calvary up the slopes of Golgotha. If Pontius Pilot had been really wicked he could have ordered Christ to walk his cross down the hill. Every one of those high steps I had taken was now a miniature form of torture on my keens, and everyone of those rounded fragments was a ball-bearing where my ankles had to counteract their wicked tendency to roll under my feet. Meter by painful meter I kept walking down, waiting for the slope to lessen (but for some wicked transformation of nature the slope, if anything, kept getting steeper). The reward of frequent glimpses of the island below was tempered by the fact that the buildings of the faraway town stubbornly remained tiny in the distance. At the end it took me 5 hours to come down, and the last hour I did like a zombie, stumbling over the smallest tuft of grass and repeating the mantra "onsen, onsen".
Thank God for the onsen, or hot bath, that is the pride of every hotel in Japan. I had a hard time hobbling down there, showering before entering the hot pool (an absolute rule that I could not ignore), and then stretching my aching legs to the curative effects of the hot water. Why do I do things like this to myself?
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