The climb.  We got thoroughly lost outside the west exit of Shinjuku station and barely had time to shovel down some pasta and climb on board.  But most importantly, I managed to get a special battery for my high tech headlamp.  To be honest, rationalizing the purchase of a headlamp and then using it immediately, was my major motivation in climbing Mt. Fuji.  Just before we left the station, I looked out to the rooftop beer gardens over the Seibu department store and mentioned to our group that we probably should just climb the stairs to the garden and drink beer--instead we got our bus tickets--first big mistake.

We road on the bus for about 2.5 hours through the dark Friday night.  We arrived at the 5th station about halfway to the top (about 1.5 miles vertically) around 9:30.  We messed around talking and changing clothes for about an hour--second big mistake.  
 
 

(Fuji-san, we climbed from just below the snowline to the top of the crater)
 

About one third of the way I got separated from my group (Steve, Eileen, Eric and Siri).  I had spotted the "false summit" and took off to get there first.  I continued for about 1 hour before I realized that the summit was still several hours away.  It was the most incredibly painful night and day of my life, I hated almost every single minute of it.  Our pace was too fast for me, at first.  My pulse was around 180 and I couldn't breath.  It was not very pretty, although I did see a shooting star.  It was hard, hard work.  Eventually, I got my breath and second wind and ended up ahead of the group (Eric's friends too).  I waited for them all at a way station for 45 minutes, until I got way too cold.  Unbeknownst to me, they had taken a different path and so we missed each other.  It's now 2:00 AM and we are no more than half way there!  6 hours of walking and halfway there.  It was hard, hard walking. By now we are on the exposed face of the mountain and it is bitter, bitter cold with a howling wind--and the line of people is worse than at Shibuya or the Yamonote when it is the most crowed you have ever seen it.  We were taking a step about every 30-45 seconds, one step!  I was completely exhausted, wet with sweat and freezing and alone.

Each step up was pure pain, I wanted to come down, but I wasn't sure how to do it and I didn't want to be a quitter.  I was worried that I was going to exhaust my legs and then be too weak to come down (my bad knees).  It was really kind of scary.  Very steep, lots of rocks and thousands and thousands of people. The restrooms were overflowing and almost made you vomit with the intensity of the smell as you shuffled by.  Dawn found me in a huge line of people about 100 vertical meters from the top, and the worst crowd I had been in.

I had painfully hiked up over 1.5 miles vertical and I just couldn't get to the top!  I was so exhausted, and worried about having to come down in the same huge crowd and take 6 hours--I couldn't bear that thought so as soon as I got to the top, I hit the descending trail, for 4 hours, it was pure agony.  My knees were so weak I was sure I would injure them (I sprained by left knee, but not too badly).  For 4 hours thousands of people shuffled down through thick gravel, you know the kind where every other step your foot slides out from underneath you?

On the way down I realized that I hadn't really paid attention to the logistics of getting home.  I knew that I needed to go down a certain path towards a certain train station, but that was about the extent of my understanding.  I wasn't really very sure how to get home.  You had to take a different trail to go down, and apparently our group wanted to go to the very bottom (another 5 miles).  I decided I could not do that, so I went back to the 5th station and luckily ran into a young girl who just moved here to teach English (she is really nice), she told me how to take the bus and trains and lent me money (Eric had my money).  Luckily we ran into Siri on one of the trains and Siri gave me the money to pay her back.