This week I took a few days off and went to the Southern Alps of Japan, a beautiful area where rice fields are surrounded by majestic snow capped mountains.  If you don’t look at the architecture or the agriculture, you would think that around the next corner you would run into Heidi.  But of course it is the unique Japanese atmosphere that makes it all the more attractive.

Mt. Kaikomagatake in the Southern Alps of Japan

The Challenge

After one day of total relaxation, my dog Sammy and I started off to climb Mt. Kaikomagatake, one of the peaks towering behind us.  My motivation was both to enjoy the mountains but also to prepare for our July 10th climb of Mt. Fuji to benefit earthquake children on the Tibetan plateau.  You see although I adore climbing, it wasn’t until after we decided to challenge Mt. Fuji to get ourselves ready for the altitude in Tibet, that I realized how out of shape I am!  I haven’t climbed a real mountain for years!  Mt. Kaikomagatake is a real mountain with an elevation of 2966 meters (9829 feet) and I wanted to see how far Sammy and I could go before having to turn back.

Moving Mountains

It is funny how faith moves mountains.  One action that is spurred by faith encourages other similar actions.  It is the difference between hope and expectation.  When you are only hoping for something you look longingly into the distance yearning for the situation to change, for something to fall into your lap, for someone to notice but there is no positive action.  But when expectation enters into the equation, things start to happen.  I have been hoping to lose weight and get into shape for quite a while now, but there is always something else to do and another project to start.  My hope didn’t bring results.  However, now I have a very large expectation in front of me because I have stepped out in faith to lead a team to help children on the Tibetan Plateau.  I know that I will need more strength than I have, and cannot let my team down and so I took another step of faith and decided to climb Mt. Fuji to prepare.  Since I live in Japan, Mt. Fuji is not as far off and unimaginable as Qinghai, but it still is a mountain sized expectation for which I need to prepare.

Milestones

Sammy, my labrador retriever and I started out early in the morning hiking through the forest.  Posted repeatedly along the trail were warnings about black bears, so I fastened bells onto my belt-loop to alert the bears to our presence and kept Sammy on his lead until we were stopped to rest.  Sammy wanted to pull me up the mountain, but I knew that he would need his stamina for later in the climb.  I sure would need mine!  Thankfully we never met any bears but we did come across a troop of nine Japanese monkeys.  Things were a little tense as we passed through their clearing, but their leader shepherded his group off to the side and Sammy and I went through quickly without making eye contact.

More challenging than any wildlife, of course, was the mountain itself.  Japan’s mountains are very steep and this trail was no different.  The further we rose the more difficult each new section became.  Along the way I found that those who had gone before me had left markers, small stone reminders that progress had been made and that another milestone had been achieved.  If you only look at the summit, it is easy to lose hope.  If you focus completely on the pain of each forward step, you are as likely to turn back as to go on.  But by pressing forward to the next milestone we were able to keep going.  Sometimes it seemed like forever before we found the next one, dropped the pack, burst out the water bottles and sat down.  Sometimes we would come over the top of a ridge and find the next marker as a pleasant surprise.

As we neared 2000 meters, the terrain started to change and the weather began to shift as well.  We were surrounded by mist as we entered the clouds and the rocks and boulders grew larger forcing me to use my hands and Sammy to make heroic jumps.  The rewards were greater as well as it seemed that the whole mountainside was in bloom, like a well-tended park instead of a wilderness.  Looking down on the clouds we could catch glimpses of the surrounding mountains and reaching the summit of the ridge, we could peer down massive walls of granite on either side.  The way forward was up sheer rock with chains for hikers to pull themselves up with, but unfortunately my partner was unable to use them.  Not for lack of heart, but due to concern for his safety, we had to turn back and head for home.

Mt. Yatsugatake seen from the trail.

Partners in Faith

Faith is not a solo endeavor.  The reality is that faith is an adventure.  With every adventure there are risks and rewards.  If there are only rewards then it is not an adventure but a job, (and probably not a very fulfilling one).  If there are only risks then it is just foolish thrill seeking.  But because adventure demands both risk and reward, we must prepare for the risks and expect the reward.  If you bring someone along with you, many of the risks can be overcome more easily.  Sammy’s boundless enthusiasm kept me going through many torturous sections of the trail.  His presence gave me a sense of security amongst the creatures of the wild.  He isn’t much of a conversationist, but he is a very good listener.  And despite having to turn back because of Sammy, he actually saved me from greater danger, as the moment we arrived safely home, torrential rain poured down for the rest of the night.

This time we reached 2000 meters, and came home safely after 8 hours of hiking.  We didn’t make it all the way to the top, but we accomplished a lot.  The next morning I was feeling it, and even Sammy slept in till eight.  But I am already planning another marker along the way, recruiting more partners to join us, and expecting mountains to move.