Before we even started, plans started changing. Joe, the guy who suggested this weekend, and his wife had to bail out due to a death in the family, so it was down to Todd and myself. So Friday afternoon I left work really early and drove down to Gotemba with Todd and his family. They were going to stay there while Todd and I climbed a mountain.
The standard way to climb Mt. Fuji is to arrive at the mountaintop in time for sunrise. There's a couple of ways to do this. You can start climbing from the very bottom and climb for 15-20 hours, staying in mountain huts along the way. You can drive to one of the 5th stations, around half way, and leave in the afternoon and spend one night in the mountain huts. Or you drive to the 5th station, leave around 9:30 or 10:00, and hike straight through the night. That's what we were going for.
There's four 5th stations. The city where Todd's wife and baby were staying, Gotemba, has one above it, but it's the longest and ugliest of the routes. Kawaguchiko was on the other side of the mountain, too far away. So that left us deciding between the Subashiri and Fujinomiya routes. We planned on catching a bus from Gotemba station up to a 5th station, so I went to the front desk of Todd's hotel and asked about the bus schedule. Because this was the first weekend of the official climbing season, things weren't in full swing yet. The last bus to either trail left at 1:30. It was already 5:00, so we had to beg Todd's wife to drive us up to the 5th station, so our decision had to be the closest one, Subashiri.
We got to the Subashiri trail head around 8:30, and we were immediately confronted with the best pair of salespeople I had ever seen. The big Mt. Fuji climbing souvenir is a wooden walking stick. Before I even had a chance to look for one, this guy and what I assume was his wife were sizing me up, handing me different sticks to see which one fit. He gave me broken English walking stick instructions and explained that you can get your stick branded at each of the stations on the way up, for a nominal cost.
This guy's wife(?) kept talking about bells. I had heard about these. They tie onto your stick and last about 200 yards before the ringing gets too annoying. I kept asking how much the bells were (I want the whole experience) and she kept saying "Service". I can't imagine what kind of service you get by ringing a bell on a mountain, but I thought maybe that's how they know people arrive at the mountain huts. Apparently the "Service" she was talking about what that they provide the bells as a service for people buying walking sticks, so she tied on my free bells and we started off. I also let myself get talked into a can of oxygen for $10, and I'm glad I had it.
I thought this was going to be pretty easy uphill hiking, just a walking path and not many rocks to climb over. Boy, was I wrong. This was a serious hike. You really have to watch your step, make a plan for every bunch of rocks you come to. After an hour of that, I was already getting worried when we finally got the the 6th station.
There are 10 stations going up the mountain. Each one has a little food and drinks (and oxygen cans) for sale and around the 7th and 8th stations, there's also some "accommodations" for sleeping. Just a little 2 X 5 foot spot on the floor to sleep basically, and for around $60 bucks, we didn't think it was worth it. There's also a guy who burns the brands onto the sticks, but he apparently works the 9-5 shift, and we couldn't get any brands on our sticks at the time we climbed. Nice of the 5th station couple to tell us.
The trail was completely empty. People had warned us that there would almost be a line all the way up the mountain, but that's not what we saw. At the 7th station, maybe an hour and a half later, we met up with a group of American teachers over here with some sort of grant. They were on the last weekend of a 4 week trip, and decided to climb Mt. Fuji.
When we first started out, I though I might be over prepared. I was wearing khaki's, a T-shirt, and hiking boots, and was carrying a 60 liter backpack with a winter coat (waterproof outer shell and liner), spare T-shirt and socks, and rain pants. I also had about 4 liters of water (price goes up with altitude) and food (SoyJoy bars and some stuff called Calorie Mate bars). I also wore a head lamp, but I though I might look like a tool, so I also brought a small flashlight, too. At the 5th station, I though I might be under prepared, since I saw some people with serious fiberglass walking sticks, gaiters over their boots, crazy expansive, alpine rated parkas and snow pants.
When we met these teachers, I decided I was probably about right. They were going the jeans and a sweatshirt way. But some of them were already struggling, and I'm pretty sure they didn't make it to the top, and I honestly hope they didn't. I was up there with a heavy winter coat and gloves and I was freezing my ass off. I don't think they would have been safe.
We had started a little earlier than the guidebooks say you need to in order to make it by sunrise (which around here at this time of year is about 4:30), so we took our time. Around 2:30, we reached the 8th stage, and found the line of people. Apparently the people who stayed in the mountain huts woke up and started climbing. It slowed us down a little, but we were both pretty tired (in every sense of the word) and we were glad for the rest.
Around 3:30, the top was almost in sight, but the horizon was starting to brighten up and we were getting worried about making it in time. The path is too narrow to pass anyone, so we had no choice but to wait it out. Finally, around 4:20, we could finally see the goal. Pass under the torii and you made it to the top, 3776 meters.
We got to the top and had a puff of O2 and a Snickers bar to celebrate and started snapping pictures. That's a high mountain. Once it got light enough to tell, at least.
We found someone to take a picture of Todd and I just before dawn.
We sat down to watch the sunrise and shiver. It must have been a bit below freezing, and the wind was whipping around the top of the mountain hard enough to knock you down. We got our pictures fast and started looking for the way down.
We planned on taking the Gotemba route down, because we had heard it's mostly loose volcanic ash and really easy to climb down. The signs were all kanji, though, so we went about 100 yards the wrong way before we decided to walk further around the rim of the volcano to find the right one. I'm glad we did, because we got a good look down into the crater. I think that big black rock is the only thing holding it all in, like a cork.
We finally started down the right trail around 6:30 or so. Until the 7th stage or so, the path was pretty difficult. Lots of big, loose rocks that were a real pain in the ass after 8 hours of climbing up. Finally, after the 7th station, we got the loose ash we were promised, and climbing turned into walking. But by this point, walking was getting tough enough. We finally got to the Gotemba 5th station just in time for the 10 AM bus back to Gotemba station. We had a quick McDonald's lunch while waiting for Todd's wife to pick him up and take him back to the hotel, then I took 3 trains back to Utsunomiya to sleep. I took a 3 hour nap, woke up for 2 hours, then went to bed around 8:30. 12 hours of good sleep later and I'm awake, but I'm pretty darn sore today.
It was a hell of a long walk to watch a sunrise, but it was worth it. It was definitely one of those "it's the journey, not the destination" things. Now I get a whole week of rest/work before a trip to Nagoya and Osaka to finish off the southern baseball teams. Then a weekend in Utsunomiya, a trip to Sapporo to watch the Nippon Ham Fighters, and I'm back in the USA for 2 weeks.
Last week I had a business trip to Hokkaido, where we have a test track. It was fun, the track was much more exciting than what we have here in 
I caught the mascot praying. I'm not sure he was serious. Lot's of flapping. When he finished, I was getting closer to take a picture of the statues while there was nobody in line, and one of the, well, I don't know what you call a guy in a T-shirt running a "God of the Victory" truck, but he grabbed me and led me up the stairs. I didn't know what to do, but they walked me through a hand clapping and told me to say "gambare!" at the statue. As skilled as they were with a "God of the Victory" truck, they didn't take good pictures, so I'm not posting the one they took of me praying.
The rain started when the game started, but it really didn't start coming down until the 3th inning. I got to see Tuffy Rhodes (maybe the 2nd best name in NPB, formerly of the Red Sox, Cubs, and Astros) reach base on a catcher's interference. That was about the only interesting baseball I saw. I dealt with the rain until the end of the 4th, long enough to watch the umbrella dance once, but I was going to meet some friends down in Roppongi, and the bar sounded like more fun than a rainy game so I left early. 
I made a slight miscalculation in buying the tickets and didn't get reserved seats. We got to the stadium about 45 minutes early to sit in the fan section, but that wasn't early enough, so we had to stand the whole game. Had a railing, at least, and the view was nice.
I've confirmed the 
So, that leaves the current standings, as far as I know, at: 
I alternated looking at the ceremony and checking my watch, then I had to go. I wanted to eat lunch before the game, and it was already noon.
It says "Rakuten" and "Baseball Station" all over the place. I guess there's nothing else there.
I went in and found my seat. In most stadiums, the home team is on the first base side. I wanted to sit in the fan club area, so I bought a ticket for right field. Little did I know, Rakuten is the exception to the rule, and the fan club is in left field. I was just below the visiting fan club section. Apparently everyone else knows that this isn't the place to sit. This is about 5 minutes before game time.
They do some nice, "baseball for kids" things before a lot of the games here. For instance, a couple of times I've seen them set up kids in all the positions for the first pitch, then when the players are announced, the run out an give the kid a ball and replace them in the field. Here, they even had a kid throw out the first pitch. But before all that, while they raked the infield, a whole herd of kids and parents came running out to the outfield for some "catch ball". Just a bunch of kids and parents playing catch in the outfield for five minutes with a whole stadium (17435 announced attendance) watching them.
As usual I got a pretty good seat. Right in home run territory. Luckily, they put up this helpful sign to keep us safe.
Says something about "Home Run Ball". Apparently they come in from the side.
Now, I can understand the couple in front of me. They probably both had a favorite team before they met. But up front there's a guy and a little (sleeping) kid. That kid isn't old enough to pick a team, and his dad is obviously a Baystars fan, yet he was completely decked out in Rakuten gear. 
After I got that all sorted out and shoved my big backpack in a coin locker, I hopped on the train that would take me to the ferry that goes to the island of Miyajima, home to the famous "floating" torii gate. Not really floating, but I'm not going to complain, at high tide it still looks like it's floating. The weather didn't really cooperate with me that day, and it was really foggy in the morning. 
You can feed the deer, but they don't seem to want you to feed the monkeys. 
By now it was getting late, and I hadn't eaten lunch, and I still had about 5 hours worth of trains ahead of me. Time to wrap it up. I caught the ferry and train back the Hiroshima, ate about as fast as possible at McDonald's, and got back on the train for Tokyo. The whole trip, I played the odds and bought the non-reserved seats, and it had paid off so far. This time, though, it didn't. I literally was shoved onto the shinkansen for Tokyo. My backpack and I had a nice little spot, wedged into the doorway. I stood there, worrying what to do if that was the door that opened at the next stop. It wasn't for the first 2 stops, where people seemed to just look in and realize there was nowhere to go, but finally it was my turn. My only option was to get off the train to let people out and make myself the first in line to get on. I moved to a more central standing location, but I still had to stand for the 2 hours or so from Hiroshima to Kyoto. I finally got home around 9 and went straight to bed. I had to be back at work in the morning. 
All around the park they have thousands of paper cranes, and giant fiberglass paper cranes. They're sent from all over the world in memory of a little girl who died from leukemia after the war. The look cheerful, but then you think about why they're there, and it brought me back down.
Anyway, I decided to leave after a little while and head to the ballpark after checking into the hotel. It looked like they were setting up for some sort of festival. When I went back to the hotel, there was yet another hip hop dance group on a stage just outside.
It's another old park, built in 1957. Narrow hallways and really tightly packed-in concession stands. They're building a new stadium that will open next year, but from the people I talked to, nobody knows exactly where it is.
It was a good game. The Hiroshima 
To be fair, they do this at all the stadiums, I just didn't mention it sooner. I got some balloons to take with me. They say "The Balloon of the Victory".
