Return to Mt. Fuji: Climbing Barefoot! Nash vs. The Ancient Warrior Path!
There's a saying in Japan: “A fool never climbs Mount Fuji, and a fool climbs it more than once.”, meaning that it's usually unpleasant but it's something that everyone should do. Do it I did. One year prior I had journeyed to and up Mount Fuji, crossing eventfully through the Murder Woods and all. It took days. I made it, but I had a rough go.
I swore I wouldn’t go back. I'd conquered the mountain, so why would I? Then I got a message: My friend Andy had died. We had a similar interest in traveling all over the world, and it was amidst realizing this, during a motor cycle collision, that he died. He was a great friend and person, and his whole family the same. That's why I jumped at the chance to help anyway I could. In the spirit of Andy's dream his family had him cremated, and the ashes were divided amongst his friends and family to be be spread all over the world. I was given a jar of the ashes, and the mission that made the most sense given my connection to Japan: I would return to the top of Mount Fuji and spread Andy's Ashes!
I picked up the ashes in the states and headed back to Japan. Protip: When international customs officers ask what's in a jar of cremated person, don't say human ashes. They don't like that. You've probably got a better chance claiming them as drugs...
Returning to Japan I brainstormed how I was going to go about this mission. As I thought about the trip, just for a second, a thought crossed my mind. "I've already climbed the entire mountain, from far, far away. Why don't I just take a bus to the fifth station, jog to the top, spread his ashes, and jog back down? Easy." But then I realized I owed myself better than that, and I sure as hell owed Andy better. I was going to make this a shugyo; I was going to climb up that damn mountain from far far away, and I was going to do it on the old Yoshidaguchi Shugyosha trail. Barefoot! I told my Kyokushin karate buddies I had thought about taking a bus. “BUS!? That's not very Nash-like...” I know, that's why I'm going full Shugyo! What better way than a legendary shugyo trail used by ancient warriors a long time ago?
This trip would be the last thing I could give my friend, and for me, aside from climbing Mt. Fuji barefoot on the old shugyosha trail being great training, it would give me time to come to grips with some things. You see when you see your friends only every couple of years, you get used to the gaps in time. You just assume that after some more time, your paths will cross again, and you'll be able to swap all the stories you've been accumulating. I needed to come to grips with the fact that my friend was gone, and I wasn't ever going to see him again. This trip would afford me the opportunity to do just that.
After I had made up my mind that I was going to do this, I set a date and got ready. The day came. A hurricane and a typhoon ravaged Japan the day/ week I was supposed to go. I decided against going then. During that week there was also a big earthquake that trashed a bunch of roads west of Tokyo. I was in the shower at the time, and escaped with no injuries except bashing my head into the wall. Apparently my timing for planning excursions was just as good as ever.
If you believe in spirits, it was just as good the following week as well. The following week was Obon vacation, which means the dojo and other such places where closed for the week. I told Mori that this is when I was going to Fuji. "Are you serous? You're walking the whole thing again? Even after what happened to you last year? During Obon? You do know that this is when ghosts are at their strongest in Japan, right? Why are you going?" I told him for Andy, then I said for training I would go alone and barefoot, wearing nothing but my normal clothes. "No way, and you'll definitely get injured." I told him probably, but he was probably going to get injured fighting for the world middle weight title. He had no response. I told him that if I managed to complete this, he had to win the title. We agreed to do our best.
The day before I was supposed to go, I made some onigiri and hard boiled eggs. I borrowed a small pouch from Jeff to put them in. Jeff being a good friend of mine whose apartment I was living in at the time. He worries about his friends, which made me a constant source of stress for him. I had decided I would go to bed early, at 9pm, and get up at 4:30am the next morning and take the first train out to adventure.
Tossing and turning that night I couldn't get to sleep. I was too antsy. The mere thought of something happening in the morning to prevent me from going was too much. I looked at the clock. "9:30pm" I decided then was just as good a time as any.
I grabbed the pouch and left right then.
Of course it was already 10pm by the time I made it to the train station. I took a train towards Mount Fuji, but it was late, so I only made it about a third of the way before the trains stopped running for the night. I ended up in Takao, found a good spot by the river, and went to sleep. When the trains started the next day, I set off again. Once I had arrived in Fujiyoshida the adventure had officially begun. Once I got to the shrine I had to start looking for the yoshidaguchi trail. Once I found it, it was just me, the woods, and my memories of Andy.
As I walked through the forest admiring it's beauty, the feel of the earth beneath my feet, various memories of Andy came to me. When we where much younger, he was the first person to tell me that they believed I could be a great martial artist. I also remember him taking care of his cute, but often sickly cat. I remembered his stories from Canada, which I loved because we both had an affinity for the place. Plus they were hilarious stories. I thought of Pez. Andy and Pez candy always where connected in my mind since he collected the dispensers. Every time one of these memories would hit me, I was reminded that my friend was gone. For good. And he wasn't coming back.
No matter how many friends this happens to, it never seems to get any easier.
These emotions coupled with the solitude of my journey, as cathartic as it was, had begun to weigh on me. After awhile I saw an old Japanese man up ahead, going the same way as I was. He was slower, and I was faster, so it was inevitable that our paths would cross. I really didn't feel like talking to anyone at that time, but the man had other ideas.
He offered a "hello" in Japanese, then English...then German, French, Spanish, and Italian. The guy was so friendly, I couldn't help but be uplifted. Fitting for the situation. It never ceases to amaze me how things always work out exactly as they need to.
"Are your feet ok?" he asked. Yes. "Why no shoes?" I told him about the shugyo and what I was doing here in the first place. "oh. You are a real karate man. How old are you? Early 20's?" He was probably the first person to ever accurately guess my age range, ever. "So you practice karate huh? What is one of your special techniques? The ax kick?" The accuracy of his guesses was completely surprising me. He then started asking me which kata I liked, by name. I knew then that he had more that a passing knowledge of the martial arts. He had definitely studied before. I asked him about it. "Only a little. When I was in school, my grandfather had a Shotokan dojo and I studied there." I drew the connection. This man who was clearly a grandpa himself, his grandfather had a Shotokan dojo ... he must be a disciple of Funokoshi sensei. "Oh! You know Funokoshi Sensei! You are a real karate man indeed!"
I changed the subject to him. His name was Nobori Otsuki. About 60 years old, whose hobbies included learning languages, traveling the world, and mountaineering. In fact, he was on his 25th time climbing Mount Fuji! Our spirits fit perfectly. He asked me how I knew about this old trail, since even most Japanese don't know about it. I said I came across it in an old book. Then I asked why he would not only endure climbing Mount Fuji 25 times, but like it? “Why endure anything? Why keep practicing martial arts, or learning?” ...
The two of us continued up the mountain together making talk about martial arts, and the world. He mentioned that he was a certified guide, and that if I had any questions I should ask him. I wasn't going to pass up an opportunity like that. Every time we passed an old shrine, or tombstone, or anything, he would explain to me it's significance. I was lucky to run into this man. This guy was so happy and knowledgeable, I'm not so sure he wasn't a forest spirit or something. He even pointed out some rare purple flowers that grow on the side of Mount Fuji that Ninja used to make poisons for their targets.
Once we got further up to the tourist populated areas, I got a Fuji stick to have branded at the top for Andy's family, and people started to notice I was barefoot. Notice might be too light of a word. They were in complete shock. Every time I passed someone they would take out their phone and call someone further up the mountain to tell them about me. When I would get further up, the people would run to find me, just to see if I really existed. Once they confirmed it, they would run and go get one of their friends, and the cycle would repeat.
I became a legend on that mountain.
To be honest though, the last 1/10 of the way up, I wanted to quit from the pain. But I anticipated this. I put safeguards in place. I could not let Andy and his family down. I could not break my promise to Mori, and I couldn't let down the old man who I had met. I had made failure impossible.
Towards the top it got to the point where every step caused me nauseating pain. I could feel the bottoms of my feet ripping and the rocks sticking to raw flesh. The tourist trash of nails and broken glass I had so carefully avoided before became trivial to me. I wasn't going to look at the bottom of my feet though, because I didn't want to become psyched out. Eventually the pain got so bad, I wanted to vomit with each step; I couldn't go on. I leaned against the Fuji stick as my body began shutting down, the stick the only thing keeping me up. “What are you doing?”, asked Nobori. I … I can't … “You can't what!? This is your last trip with your dead friend! You promised! Did you come here to let down your dead friend and his family!? You CANNOT fail! Are you a Karate Man or not!? Yell 'OSU!'” Osu! “Louder!” OSU!!! “Now go!”
One foot in front of the other, one step at a time, I pressed on. Nothing mattered except staying standing. If I ever seemed like I was breaking, Nobori would yell "Kiai!". I would yell, and then continue on.
Finally I made it to the top, to the cheering and applause of the people already up there. They had already heard of me. Nobori said to me "Congratulations. You have finished your shugyo, and can now honor your friends. You have two dragon soul." Two dragon soul? "Yes. You have dragon soul. Spirit of dragon. Never give up and can do anything. And dragon sole. Feet of dragon!" Then he laughed. I love puns. It was here we took our picture together, and many many people I didn't even know came up to get their picture taken with me. Like I said, I became a legend on that mountain. Otsuki decided to sleep at the inn on the top of the mountain.
Now that it was just me at the top it was time to spread Andy's ashes, muttering a final goodbye as I did. At that moment the emotional impact of the situation fully hit me. The joy of making it up the mountain the way I did, and the melancholy of what it's end represented brought me to tears. I gazed over the side of the mountain and cried for some time before I gathered myself and went to the inn/ temple that Otsuki was staying in.
Within that temple is the furnace thing that burns the brand of the top of Mt. Fuji onto the Fuji stick one gets to climb the mountain. I had failed to get my stick branded the year before, but I would get this one branded and present it to Andy's family! I grabbed the stick and headed in. I presented it to the man inside. Brand please! “It's late, the furnace is off for the day.” But... I need this stick branded... “Then come back tomorrow.” I'm not coming back tomorrow! “Then you don't have a brand.” … But … “Where are your shoes?” I climbed up the old warrior's path, all the way here, barefoot! I exclaimed it triumphantly, expecting to be greeted by the same celebrity status I had become accustomed to on the mountain. Maybe he would be so impressed he would reignite the furnace as a reward? “What!?” I could tell he was impressed. “You idiot! Don't you know there's garbage and construction junk all over the place here!? You probably have tetanus and a few other diseases or injuries. Dummy.” … He was not impressed... AND I didn't get a brand, for the second year in a row! Guess you can't win over everyone. At least I could still give the stick to Andy's family, along with the pictures I'd taken. The anger I felt about the stick not being branded was a great distraction from the melancholy though.
After all the shenanigans, I looked at the bottoms of my feet, no longer bothered by what I might see since I had already claimed victory... They were fine! I mean they were completely fine, as in immaculate. I have no idea how, but I decided to take advantage and get some mountain top training in to clear my head, and so practiced kata and did some technique training.
I was now ready to leave the mountain. I was stumbling around trying to figure out which way I was going to go, when I ran into a family doing the same thing. The wife said she knew the quickest way down the mountain. We banded together and headed that way. Her book said the trail we were going to take should only take about 2 hours to get down the mountain. 5 hours later we where still stumbling around in the dark on the the side of the mountain. The man and wife started to bicker. Their two young kids, who to their credit had until now been patiently hiking down a mountain in the pitch black where people shouldn't even be, finally broke down. Exhaustion and fear overtook them, and the crying and yelling started, which triggered the man and wife into a full on fight. The whole family exploded, and I was a captive bystander to the whole thing. Unpleasant.
Eventually we ended up at the 5th station. Or rather A fifth station. I had climbed up one side of the mountain and down the other side, opposite from where I needed to be. I was on the wrong side of Japan now! It was now 2am. The family decided they would take a taxi to a nearby town. They offered me a ride, but I wasn't sure if the station was the one I wanted to go to. I asked the attendant on duty. He assured me I did not want to go there. He said they had a bus that went straight to Shinjuku that left in the morning. So I turned down the taxi and decided I would sleep outside at the 5th station until morning and take the bus back.
I went to sleep and was immediately greeted by extreme cold; I suppose that's what happens when you try to sleep on a mountain above the clouds, outside, in only jeans and a t-shirt. I spent a couple hours shivering so violently I thought blood would come out of my pores. Every once in a while someone would walk by and comment. One girl said " Oh my god! That guy is going to die if somebody doesn't give him something to stay warm with!" Then she just walked on. Thanks for the help...
I got up a little before sunrise, and was greeted by a most spectacular meteor shower. Turns out that's why people were up there: to get up above the clouds and view this extravagant celestial event. Then the sun started to rise and I performed my morning exercises to the sunrise. It was beautiful. If spreading Andy's ashes was my last gift to him, then this was his last gift to me. After my exercises, I went up to the attended, who had since changed, and asked him when the bus for Shinjuku left. " There isn't one." What? The attendant before you said their was..."He's wrong, your only hope is to take a bus to a nearby town, and take a train from there." Yes, the town he was referring to was the very same town the family went to in the taxi. The one I had passed on thanks to the previous attendants advice.
I had no choice but to wait for the bus to the town, which I took. Which was great, except that I had come down the opposite side of the mountain, and was now heading even further in the wrong direction. Once I got to the train station, I ended up even further away. In fact, I got a tour of the whole south end of the island. Against my will. In the first town I came to after getting off the mountain I ran into a giant pez dispenser store; I smiled.
Three days after I had left I returned. I got back to Jeff's apartment building and collapsed in the foyer that he and his neighbor shared. She came out to see what the “thud” was and found me sprawled out on my back starring up at the ceiling. “Are you ok!?” She sounded worried. I explained what I'd been up to the past few days. “What!? Can I get you anything!?” … water. And a pillow. She obliged and I proceeded to lose consciousness until Jeff got home, roughly half a day later. We went out to eat to celebrate my successful shugyo.
Returning to the dojo I found that while I was gone Mori had in fact won the tournament and become the world middle weight Kyokushin Karate champion. I told him I was glad, and that I had succeeded in my quest. After training we all gathered around and I told my story of the return to Mount Fuji. Everyone was amazed. “Did you take rations?” yeah. I made Onigiri and hard boiled eggs. Mori chimed in: “What!? You know those things go bad right? You were just wandering around the wilderness with some eggs strapped to you? You were gone for days!” … moving on..”Whoa, you climbed the whole thing, on the old warrior's path, barefoot!?” That's right. “But your feet are fine looking..” I know. I don't know how, because it felt like I had completely torn the bottoms off. Each step was so painful I thought I would puke! I even thought I couldn't go on, but the old guy pushed me all the way passed my limits, and when I made it to the top, my feet where ok. Another dojo member's eyes lit up: “Wait.. the old guy that knew everything about the mountain and it's woods and everything about you and the things you're interested in, who showed up at just the right time and aided you?... I bet he was a Tanuki!” What? “Tanuki! You know, the super natural raccoon dog creature. They live in supernatural forests and can change shape to look like humans. They're supposed to have all kinds of esoteric knowledge and love to get people lost in the woods as a prank, but if they test you and like you, they aid you through almost impossible situations. It all makes sense, you were aided by a supernatural creature: Tanuki!” Of course... what's a good story without vague supernatural possibilities?
All my missions complete, I have no desire to ever go back to that mountain. Just like the last time I had no desire to ever go back...When people find out what I had done, and that I had come out “unscathed”, they are shocked. Not more shocked than me though. Ever since I did this Shugyo friends of friends or people who’ve heard the story have come up to me and asked if the stories are true; If I am the real “Man of Legend” that climbed Mount Fuji barefoot, or did this or that. I sure am, and I can thank Andy for that particular adventure.
Rest in peace buddy.
If you have a dream, don't hesitate; The only time you have is the time you make!
-Nash
I swore I wouldn’t go back. I'd conquered the mountain, so why would I? Then I got a message: My friend Andy had died. We had a similar interest in traveling all over the world, and it was amidst realizing this, during a motor cycle collision, that he died. He was a great friend and person, and his whole family the same. That's why I jumped at the chance to help anyway I could. In the spirit of Andy's dream his family had him cremated, and the ashes were divided amongst his friends and family to be be spread all over the world. I was given a jar of the ashes, and the mission that made the most sense given my connection to Japan: I would return to the top of Mount Fuji and spread Andy's Ashes!
I picked up the ashes in the states and headed back to Japan. Protip: When international customs officers ask what's in a jar of cremated person, don't say human ashes. They don't like that. You've probably got a better chance claiming them as drugs...
Returning to Japan I brainstormed how I was going to go about this mission. As I thought about the trip, just for a second, a thought crossed my mind. "I've already climbed the entire mountain, from far, far away. Why don't I just take a bus to the fifth station, jog to the top, spread his ashes, and jog back down? Easy." But then I realized I owed myself better than that, and I sure as hell owed Andy better. I was going to make this a shugyo; I was going to climb up that damn mountain from far far away, and I was going to do it on the old Yoshidaguchi Shugyosha trail. Barefoot! I told my Kyokushin karate buddies I had thought about taking a bus. “BUS!? That's not very Nash-like...” I know, that's why I'm going full Shugyo! What better way than a legendary shugyo trail used by ancient warriors a long time ago?
This trip would be the last thing I could give my friend, and for me, aside from climbing Mt. Fuji barefoot on the old shugyosha trail being great training, it would give me time to come to grips with some things. You see when you see your friends only every couple of years, you get used to the gaps in time. You just assume that after some more time, your paths will cross again, and you'll be able to swap all the stories you've been accumulating. I needed to come to grips with the fact that my friend was gone, and I wasn't ever going to see him again. This trip would afford me the opportunity to do just that.
After I had made up my mind that I was going to do this, I set a date and got ready. The day came. A hurricane and a typhoon ravaged Japan the day/ week I was supposed to go. I decided against going then. During that week there was also a big earthquake that trashed a bunch of roads west of Tokyo. I was in the shower at the time, and escaped with no injuries except bashing my head into the wall. Apparently my timing for planning excursions was just as good as ever.
If you believe in spirits, it was just as good the following week as well. The following week was Obon vacation, which means the dojo and other such places where closed for the week. I told Mori that this is when I was going to Fuji. "Are you serous? You're walking the whole thing again? Even after what happened to you last year? During Obon? You do know that this is when ghosts are at their strongest in Japan, right? Why are you going?" I told him for Andy, then I said for training I would go alone and barefoot, wearing nothing but my normal clothes. "No way, and you'll definitely get injured." I told him probably, but he was probably going to get injured fighting for the world middle weight title. He had no response. I told him that if I managed to complete this, he had to win the title. We agreed to do our best.
The day before I was supposed to go, I made some onigiri and hard boiled eggs. I borrowed a small pouch from Jeff to put them in. Jeff being a good friend of mine whose apartment I was living in at the time. He worries about his friends, which made me a constant source of stress for him. I had decided I would go to bed early, at 9pm, and get up at 4:30am the next morning and take the first train out to adventure.
Tossing and turning that night I couldn't get to sleep. I was too antsy. The mere thought of something happening in the morning to prevent me from going was too much. I looked at the clock. "9:30pm" I decided then was just as good a time as any.
I grabbed the pouch and left right then.
Of course it was already 10pm by the time I made it to the train station. I took a train towards Mount Fuji, but it was late, so I only made it about a third of the way before the trains stopped running for the night. I ended up in Takao, found a good spot by the river, and went to sleep. When the trains started the next day, I set off again. Once I had arrived in Fujiyoshida the adventure had officially begun. Once I got to the shrine I had to start looking for the yoshidaguchi trail. Once I found it, it was just me, the woods, and my memories of Andy.
As I walked through the forest admiring it's beauty, the feel of the earth beneath my feet, various memories of Andy came to me. When we where much younger, he was the first person to tell me that they believed I could be a great martial artist. I also remember him taking care of his cute, but often sickly cat. I remembered his stories from Canada, which I loved because we both had an affinity for the place. Plus they were hilarious stories. I thought of Pez. Andy and Pez candy always where connected in my mind since he collected the dispensers. Every time one of these memories would hit me, I was reminded that my friend was gone. For good. And he wasn't coming back.
No matter how many friends this happens to, it never seems to get any easier.
These emotions coupled with the solitude of my journey, as cathartic as it was, had begun to weigh on me. After awhile I saw an old Japanese man up ahead, going the same way as I was. He was slower, and I was faster, so it was inevitable that our paths would cross. I really didn't feel like talking to anyone at that time, but the man had other ideas.
He offered a "hello" in Japanese, then English...then German, French, Spanish, and Italian. The guy was so friendly, I couldn't help but be uplifted. Fitting for the situation. It never ceases to amaze me how things always work out exactly as they need to.
"Are your feet ok?" he asked. Yes. "Why no shoes?" I told him about the shugyo and what I was doing here in the first place. "oh. You are a real karate man. How old are you? Early 20's?" He was probably the first person to ever accurately guess my age range, ever. "So you practice karate huh? What is one of your special techniques? The ax kick?" The accuracy of his guesses was completely surprising me. He then started asking me which kata I liked, by name. I knew then that he had more that a passing knowledge of the martial arts. He had definitely studied before. I asked him about it. "Only a little. When I was in school, my grandfather had a Shotokan dojo and I studied there." I drew the connection. This man who was clearly a grandpa himself, his grandfather had a Shotokan dojo ... he must be a disciple of Funokoshi sensei. "Oh! You know Funokoshi Sensei! You are a real karate man indeed!"
I changed the subject to him. His name was Nobori Otsuki. About 60 years old, whose hobbies included learning languages, traveling the world, and mountaineering. In fact, he was on his 25th time climbing Mount Fuji! Our spirits fit perfectly. He asked me how I knew about this old trail, since even most Japanese don't know about it. I said I came across it in an old book. Then I asked why he would not only endure climbing Mount Fuji 25 times, but like it? “Why endure anything? Why keep practicing martial arts, or learning?” ...
The two of us continued up the mountain together making talk about martial arts, and the world. He mentioned that he was a certified guide, and that if I had any questions I should ask him. I wasn't going to pass up an opportunity like that. Every time we passed an old shrine, or tombstone, or anything, he would explain to me it's significance. I was lucky to run into this man. This guy was so happy and knowledgeable, I'm not so sure he wasn't a forest spirit or something. He even pointed out some rare purple flowers that grow on the side of Mount Fuji that Ninja used to make poisons for their targets.
Once we got further up to the tourist populated areas, I got a Fuji stick to have branded at the top for Andy's family, and people started to notice I was barefoot. Notice might be too light of a word. They were in complete shock. Every time I passed someone they would take out their phone and call someone further up the mountain to tell them about me. When I would get further up, the people would run to find me, just to see if I really existed. Once they confirmed it, they would run and go get one of their friends, and the cycle would repeat.
I became a legend on that mountain.
To be honest though, the last 1/10 of the way up, I wanted to quit from the pain. But I anticipated this. I put safeguards in place. I could not let Andy and his family down. I could not break my promise to Mori, and I couldn't let down the old man who I had met. I had made failure impossible.
Towards the top it got to the point where every step caused me nauseating pain. I could feel the bottoms of my feet ripping and the rocks sticking to raw flesh. The tourist trash of nails and broken glass I had so carefully avoided before became trivial to me. I wasn't going to look at the bottom of my feet though, because I didn't want to become psyched out. Eventually the pain got so bad, I wanted to vomit with each step; I couldn't go on. I leaned against the Fuji stick as my body began shutting down, the stick the only thing keeping me up. “What are you doing?”, asked Nobori. I … I can't … “You can't what!? This is your last trip with your dead friend! You promised! Did you come here to let down your dead friend and his family!? You CANNOT fail! Are you a Karate Man or not!? Yell 'OSU!'” Osu! “Louder!” OSU!!! “Now go!”
One foot in front of the other, one step at a time, I pressed on. Nothing mattered except staying standing. If I ever seemed like I was breaking, Nobori would yell "Kiai!". I would yell, and then continue on.
Finally I made it to the top, to the cheering and applause of the people already up there. They had already heard of me. Nobori said to me "Congratulations. You have finished your shugyo, and can now honor your friends. You have two dragon soul." Two dragon soul? "Yes. You have dragon soul. Spirit of dragon. Never give up and can do anything. And dragon sole. Feet of dragon!" Then he laughed. I love puns. It was here we took our picture together, and many many people I didn't even know came up to get their picture taken with me. Like I said, I became a legend on that mountain. Otsuki decided to sleep at the inn on the top of the mountain.
Now that it was just me at the top it was time to spread Andy's ashes, muttering a final goodbye as I did. At that moment the emotional impact of the situation fully hit me. The joy of making it up the mountain the way I did, and the melancholy of what it's end represented brought me to tears. I gazed over the side of the mountain and cried for some time before I gathered myself and went to the inn/ temple that Otsuki was staying in.
Within that temple is the furnace thing that burns the brand of the top of Mt. Fuji onto the Fuji stick one gets to climb the mountain. I had failed to get my stick branded the year before, but I would get this one branded and present it to Andy's family! I grabbed the stick and headed in. I presented it to the man inside. Brand please! “It's late, the furnace is off for the day.” But... I need this stick branded... “Then come back tomorrow.” I'm not coming back tomorrow! “Then you don't have a brand.” … But … “Where are your shoes?” I climbed up the old warrior's path, all the way here, barefoot! I exclaimed it triumphantly, expecting to be greeted by the same celebrity status I had become accustomed to on the mountain. Maybe he would be so impressed he would reignite the furnace as a reward? “What!?” I could tell he was impressed. “You idiot! Don't you know there's garbage and construction junk all over the place here!? You probably have tetanus and a few other diseases or injuries. Dummy.” … He was not impressed... AND I didn't get a brand, for the second year in a row! Guess you can't win over everyone. At least I could still give the stick to Andy's family, along with the pictures I'd taken. The anger I felt about the stick not being branded was a great distraction from the melancholy though.
After all the shenanigans, I looked at the bottoms of my feet, no longer bothered by what I might see since I had already claimed victory... They were fine! I mean they were completely fine, as in immaculate. I have no idea how, but I decided to take advantage and get some mountain top training in to clear my head, and so practiced kata and did some technique training.
I was now ready to leave the mountain. I was stumbling around trying to figure out which way I was going to go, when I ran into a family doing the same thing. The wife said she knew the quickest way down the mountain. We banded together and headed that way. Her book said the trail we were going to take should only take about 2 hours to get down the mountain. 5 hours later we where still stumbling around in the dark on the the side of the mountain. The man and wife started to bicker. Their two young kids, who to their credit had until now been patiently hiking down a mountain in the pitch black where people shouldn't even be, finally broke down. Exhaustion and fear overtook them, and the crying and yelling started, which triggered the man and wife into a full on fight. The whole family exploded, and I was a captive bystander to the whole thing. Unpleasant.
Eventually we ended up at the 5th station. Or rather A fifth station. I had climbed up one side of the mountain and down the other side, opposite from where I needed to be. I was on the wrong side of Japan now! It was now 2am. The family decided they would take a taxi to a nearby town. They offered me a ride, but I wasn't sure if the station was the one I wanted to go to. I asked the attendant on duty. He assured me I did not want to go there. He said they had a bus that went straight to Shinjuku that left in the morning. So I turned down the taxi and decided I would sleep outside at the 5th station until morning and take the bus back.
I went to sleep and was immediately greeted by extreme cold; I suppose that's what happens when you try to sleep on a mountain above the clouds, outside, in only jeans and a t-shirt. I spent a couple hours shivering so violently I thought blood would come out of my pores. Every once in a while someone would walk by and comment. One girl said " Oh my god! That guy is going to die if somebody doesn't give him something to stay warm with!" Then she just walked on. Thanks for the help...
I got up a little before sunrise, and was greeted by a most spectacular meteor shower. Turns out that's why people were up there: to get up above the clouds and view this extravagant celestial event. Then the sun started to rise and I performed my morning exercises to the sunrise. It was beautiful. If spreading Andy's ashes was my last gift to him, then this was his last gift to me. After my exercises, I went up to the attended, who had since changed, and asked him when the bus for Shinjuku left. " There isn't one." What? The attendant before you said their was..."He's wrong, your only hope is to take a bus to a nearby town, and take a train from there." Yes, the town he was referring to was the very same town the family went to in the taxi. The one I had passed on thanks to the previous attendants advice.
I had no choice but to wait for the bus to the town, which I took. Which was great, except that I had come down the opposite side of the mountain, and was now heading even further in the wrong direction. Once I got to the train station, I ended up even further away. In fact, I got a tour of the whole south end of the island. Against my will. In the first town I came to after getting off the mountain I ran into a giant pez dispenser store; I smiled.
Three days after I had left I returned. I got back to Jeff's apartment building and collapsed in the foyer that he and his neighbor shared. She came out to see what the “thud” was and found me sprawled out on my back starring up at the ceiling. “Are you ok!?” She sounded worried. I explained what I'd been up to the past few days. “What!? Can I get you anything!?” … water. And a pillow. She obliged and I proceeded to lose consciousness until Jeff got home, roughly half a day later. We went out to eat to celebrate my successful shugyo.
Returning to the dojo I found that while I was gone Mori had in fact won the tournament and become the world middle weight Kyokushin Karate champion. I told him I was glad, and that I had succeeded in my quest. After training we all gathered around and I told my story of the return to Mount Fuji. Everyone was amazed. “Did you take rations?” yeah. I made Onigiri and hard boiled eggs. Mori chimed in: “What!? You know those things go bad right? You were just wandering around the wilderness with some eggs strapped to you? You were gone for days!” … moving on..”Whoa, you climbed the whole thing, on the old warrior's path, barefoot!?” That's right. “But your feet are fine looking..” I know. I don't know how, because it felt like I had completely torn the bottoms off. Each step was so painful I thought I would puke! I even thought I couldn't go on, but the old guy pushed me all the way passed my limits, and when I made it to the top, my feet where ok. Another dojo member's eyes lit up: “Wait.. the old guy that knew everything about the mountain and it's woods and everything about you and the things you're interested in, who showed up at just the right time and aided you?... I bet he was a Tanuki!” What? “Tanuki! You know, the super natural raccoon dog creature. They live in supernatural forests and can change shape to look like humans. They're supposed to have all kinds of esoteric knowledge and love to get people lost in the woods as a prank, but if they test you and like you, they aid you through almost impossible situations. It all makes sense, you were aided by a supernatural creature: Tanuki!” Of course... what's a good story without vague supernatural possibilities?
All my missions complete, I have no desire to ever go back to that mountain. Just like the last time I had no desire to ever go back...When people find out what I had done, and that I had come out “unscathed”, they are shocked. Not more shocked than me though. Ever since I did this Shugyo friends of friends or people who’ve heard the story have come up to me and asked if the stories are true; If I am the real “Man of Legend” that climbed Mount Fuji barefoot, or did this or that. I sure am, and I can thank Andy for that particular adventure.
Rest in peace buddy.
If you have a dream, don't hesitate; The only time you have is the time you make!
-Nash
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Climbing Mt. Fuji Barefoot!