tsubame

Ascending Mt. Kaikoma

Last week IQ Exchange was having some troubles and I couldn't post my story about the trip to the caves around Mt. Fuji. You can find that story after this one.

The photos from my hike up Mt. Kaikoma are being posted ahead of the story this time. That way anyone who doesn't want to read the whole story can just look at the photos more easily.

Clouds in Sensui Pass on Saturday

Hou-Ou Sanzan (Phoenix Three Mountains) shortly after sunrise, as seen from Komatsu Peak

Me and my tripod with Mt. Kita and Mt. Aino in the distance

Sun lights part of the route up to the summit of Mt. Kaikoma

Mt. Yatsu (2899m) from the summit of Mt. Kaikoma

Shrine on the summit of Mt. Kaikoma

A view of Mt. Senjou (3033m) from the summit of Mt. Kaikoma

Mt. Kita (3192m) and Mt. Aino (3189m) – Japan’s second and fourth highest peaks – seen between granite boulders on the summit of Mt. Kaikoma

Mr. Itamoto’s photo of an October sunset over Mt. Kita

My photo of the same sunset but from a higher vantage point as it appears in Nature Photographer

Giving myself only two days to get to the South Alps, climb up to the summit of Mt. Kaikoma (Kaikoma ga Take - 2967m), and get back to Saitama in time to meet K once she finished work at 6 o’clock was probably pushing time a bit much. An early start Saturday morning should have given me a good jump on the plan; however, even though I reached Kofu City in Yamanashi by 8:30am, the buses to the trail head cost me a lot of time. The first bus left Kofu Station at 9 and got me as far as Hirogawara, where I had to change to another bus, by 11. But at Hirogawara I had to wait an hour and twenty minutes for the bus up to Kitazawa – the beginning of the route up Kaikoma.

The weather forecast called for clouds changing to sun over Kofu. Now I was deep I the South Alps, however, and the weather here could be very different. On the way up it had even rained a little. At Hirogawara the clouds were low and a chilly wind was blowing. I could have started a hike up Mt. Hou-Ou or Mt. Kita from here but my target was Mt. Kaikoma and I wasn’t about to give it up.

At last the bus came and brought me back to Kitazawa. It was here that I had started my climb up Mt. Senjou two years ago, on the south side of the road. This time I would take the trail on the north side. The sky here looked promising as the peak of Kaikoma had been visible against a blue sky with a few puffy white clouds while coming up the winding road. I set off at a brisk pace to the campsite at Sensui Pass. According to the guidebook it was a 40-minute walk. I did it in 30, and got my tent set up, lunch eaten, and pack packed for the climb up Kaikoma. It was going to be about four hours to the summit and it was one o’clock now. I packed my headlight for the climb down since it would be dark by then. I considered bringing an extra sweater in case I felt like staying on the summit but the wind would be cold and I would have to carry extra food and water too so I decided I should come back.

I had not gotten far through the forest when I noticed the clouds fogging up the view. A jumble of rocks emerged from the clouds on the left, the forest shrinking away on the right, as I entered the grey world of fog. I was not disheartened, however, because low clouds in the valley could mean a clear summit and some fantastic evening photo opportunities from above. I reached the end of the pass fifteen minutes faster than the guidebook said, after enjoying hopping over boulders of metamorphic rock and seeing the first of the autumn colours emerge from the mists.

With hardly a pause I tackled the trail heading up the mountainside to Komatsu Peak. If the peak was clear I would continue. If it was too cloudy I would head back down. I had enough time. I met several people heading down and they all asked if I was just heading up now and told me to be careful. I stepped aside to allow one large group pass me. The last fellow in the group told me not to go up now. He said it was two o’clock and that with the clouds I wouldn’t reach the summit before dark. The climb back down would be too dangerous. I had to consider his words. He had just done the climb; he knew the trail condition. On the other hand, I had my own plan and I was prepared for ascending or descending in the dark. I also knew my limits and would follow my instincts to turn back when they spoke to me. But the old guy wouldn’t let me go

“I’m not saying anything bad. But this trail is dangerous in the dark. Come, let’s go down together.”

“You said it’s an hour to Komatsu Peak. I’ll just go up there and take a look and then head back.”

“Look, it’s two o’clock now. At a good pace you’ll get there by three. Then you’ll have to come back down and walk back to the campsite. It will be dark with these clouds. It’s dangerous. You should give up now.”

“Yeah, okay. I won’t go to the summit.” I was thinking what if I wanted to photograph the night sky from the top. Then I would need to go up. Also, giving up now made me feel like I had wasted my time and money coming out here. Last week the weather had prevented us from seeing Mt. Fuji and last month I didn’t get the photos I wanted on Mt. Hotaka because of the weather. My luck with mountain weather was frustrating. I needed a moment to be disappointed on my own.

“Why are you climbing up so late? No one starts climbing in the afternoon unless there’s a place to stay up top. And there’s no place to stay on Kaikoma.”

“I came from Saitama. It took time with the buses. I had to wait an hour and a half for the last bus.”

“Coming up by car is best.”

“I don’t have a car.”

“Then start tomorrow morning. You can climb the mountain tomorrow when there is lots of time.”

I was getting annoyed. “I have to head back tomorrow. I don’t have time.”

“Then head back. Go down and take the bus back. You won't make it up Kaikoma this time.”

I didn’t want to get angry at him. He was only concerned for my safety. But he was not letting up. I needed a moment to myself and he wouldn’t let me be. I was annoyed and I think he knew it and was getting annoyed with me. I said I was heading down and I started to follow him.

“I got him to come down,” he called out to his companions.

“Good,” a woman called back. “It’s too dangerous.”

I really didn’t need this to be an issue.

“I’m not saying anything bad,” he repeated.

“I know. It just seems like a waste of money and time. Besides, I have seen people climb at night.”

“Where? Here?”

“No. Last month at Mt. Hotaka I saw people climbing down at night. And I did it before at Tateyama.”

“Ah, well those places have many climbers. Here you won’t see anyone at this time. You shouldn’t climb here at night. In the North Alps there are more people so it’s not as dangerous.”

The way I saw it, the trail itself was just as dangerous no matter how many people were on it. The difference was if you had an accident at least you had a good chance of receiving help in the North Alps. Other than that, the trail was just as dangerous in the North Alps. As a person who often hikes alone, I had a different view of the situation. Maybe he saw me as some novice who was about to step into the deep end. But I had already climbed twenty peaks in Japan and was familiar enough with the terrain. I would know with myself when to give up.

He continued to announce that he had gotten me to turn back. At the pass I scrambled up on some rocks and let them carry on without me. He had annoyed me greatly and it was only my respect for my elders that prevented me from saying something brash. The truth was, however, that the clouds were getting thicker, even though for an instant the shape of Kaikoma loomed above me as the clouds thinned slightly.

It eventually went back to my tent, ate something and went to sleep early. I decided to wake up early check the sky. If the sky was clear I would get moving by four at the latest.

That night I woke up to the sound of foot steps outside. Were people getting up? Were some people getting ready to start up the mountain? I looked outside and through the trees I saw a perfectly clear night sky. It was 3:45. Eating breakfast quickly, I packed up my camera bag and by four I was on the trail.

The forest was silent. There were no hooting owls, no howling wolves, no insect sounds, and no creaking trees. Crossing the rocks I had a beautiful star-spread sky above me, but no moon. I followed the cairns in my headlight but came around the wrong side of one and lost the trail. It took a few minutes to find where the passing of many boots had worn the sharp edges of the rocks a little. Going up through the trees was easier. The path was a tumble of rocks winding between the trees. As I climbed the sky lightened and the stars faded from view. The sky was glowing in the north east.

I cleared the trees as the twilight wedge was sinking in the south west. The top of Komatsu Peak was very near but judging by the light I had to stop soon and prepare for sunrise. The view over the South Alps was amazing. Across the pass was a long ridge that led to Hou-Ou Sanzan – The Phoenix Three Mountains – with Jizou Peak’s famous 26-metre high obelisk of granite, aptly named The Obelisk. The crater of Mt. Fuji could be seen beyond. To the south east stood the wedge-shaped peak of Mt. Kita with Mt. Aino just behind. Three of Japan’s five highest mountains were there before my eyes and all of them I had climbed before. To the south was Mt. Senjou with its glacial cirques.

The sun rose up through a line of cloud and then shone its light over the South Alps. After photographing for a bit I continued up to Komatsu Peak and took a brief rest. Then I tackled the most difficult and most exciting part of the climb – the rocky ascent up to the summit of Mt. Kaikoma.

It was a path that followed a knife-edged ridge with steep slopes immediately on either side. I scrambled down steep slopes of metamorphic rock, and then began climbing up the rough granite of Kaikoma. Huge boulders had to be climbed or skirted before reaching a slope of gravel and sand. In the fresh morning air and with the sun shining I had a blast. I reached the summit by 8:20 and was the fourth person up. One guy had passed me while I was photographing and the other two had come up from the opposite side.

I took my time photographing the views and studied the familiar peaks of the North and South Alps. From the summit of Mt. Kaikoma I could recognize 24 of Japan’s 100 Famous Mountains and I could see 14 of the mountains I had climbed. The glaring white haze below obscured the view of some of the mountains I should have been able to see.

When it was 9 o’clock I left the now crowded summit and headed back down. I reached my tent by 11 and by 11:45 I was on my way. There was a short wait for the bus during which time I went into a lodge to pass the time. There I was completely surprised to see a photo on the wall that looked almost exactly like one I had taken two years before. It was a fabulous sunset I had seen while ascending Mt. Kita. The composition of this one was slightly different but the clouds were unmistakably the same. A Mr. Itamoto had captured this scene from a lower vantage point than mine. The mountain in my photo is rocky but in his I could see trees. Also, his had a crescent moon in the centre of the photo, whereas in my photo the moon was just coming out in the wedge of sky between the clouds and the mountain. I told the man at the counter that I had taken almost exactly the same photo but he seemed unimpressed. I then said that my photo had been published in an American photo magazine but he still seemed unimpressed. The coincidence seemed profound to me but not to him. I guess that’s because in Japan many people capture the same moment on film since there are so many people going to the mountains.

On the ride back I enjoyed glimpses through the haze of the high peaks of the South Alps. I was able to get all the right bus and train connections back to Saitama and was there to meet K when she got off work. It had turned out to be a successful trip after all.

Posted by tsubame at September 26, 2006 05:01 AM | TrackBack