Mount Fuji and I have a history.
I love the mountain deeply, and look for it every time I hike a peak that claims to have a view of Japan’s highest mountain. I say “claims” because, thus far, Fujisan has obscured itself behind clouds every time I reach the summit of another peak.
(Case in point, the photo above, which I took from Owakudani, a volcanic crater in Hakone that claims to offer one of the finest views of Fuji. You can see the lower slope of Fuji peeking coyly out from behind the clouds on the left side of the frame.)
There’s a saying in Japan that “Fujisan decides” who gets to see, or climb, its massive slopes. Thus far, the mountain has denied me all but a nine-second partially obstructed view–which I had from a train on the way to Kamakura in the autumn of 2016.
For reasons I can’t entirely explain, I find myself enjoying the mountain-and-mouse game Fuji and I have going. It’s a little sad, and a little frustrating, to know that I’ve had over twenty-five chances to see the summit and thus far failed every time–but I’m hopeful that this means the mountain is building up the suspense to make my climb to the summit even more fulfilling.
A climb that, God, Fuji, and weather willing, I will begin tomorrow.
Like every mountain on my 100 Summits Project journey, I’m approaching this one with a humble hope that I’ll be allowed to stand on its summit and experience the gifts this mountain has to offer. If the weather turns, and I cannot climb, I’ll accept that judgment and return another time.
That said, by the next time this blog updates, I hope to have stood atop the highest point in Japan.
Here’s hoping I get there – I’ll let you know!
How do you feel about having to wait for the things you hope to see or do? Does it frustrate you, or does it make you more determined to succeed?