Okay.
The boys brought our completed hiking sticks back and sat down to share their news. Apparently, there is NO first aid station at the summit. They spoke with the people at the little restaurant and shop area and they explained we had to go back down to the 8th station for first aid.
They swore it wasn't too far.
I gritted my teeth and tried to suck it up. Just a little more until we got to the doctor. Okay, it is what it is. I can't stay on this mountain the rest of my life. I'm sure motivating thoughts like these ran through my head as we packed up our bags and prepared to descend.
As mentioned, the trail up the mountain is separate from the trail back down. We walked oh so slowly over to the descent.
And then it just got bad.
The climb was mostly rocky inclines and dirt paths. The descent was this loose gravel and sandy soil that slipped and slid under our feet. Instead of carefully and slowly stepping down the path, we were sliding all over the path. Every slip of my foot was a shooting pain that radiated up my body. I couldn't catch the hang of walking down this slippery hill, so I slid every third step. It was dusty, from all the loose soil. We came prepared with bandannas for our faces, but my eyes watered until I couldn't see clearly. And then they watered more each time I slipped. I reached that awful point past pain where I believe I was openly sobbing as we walked. It was pretty pathetic. We all knew it was the only way, but god it was awful. And it wasn't just awful for me. Jeff needs to take care, and to watch me in such pain with no way to help or stop what we were doing was such a stress on him as well. It was just awful.
We reached a log on the side of the road. There had been no helpful signs and no clear view of this 8th station. The log looked like an entry to a station of some sort, so I sat down and cried while Jeff raced in to try to find help. He came back saying something along the lines of "this wasn't it, we had to continue down the mountain"
Now I had toughed it out and sucked it up for hours today. I had broken through exhaustion and pain and damn near everything in me to get this far. But I was out. Empty. Completely drained and just hurting. So I said "no". I said I couldn't do it any more and kept sitting on the log. I didn't know how I was going to get off the mountain, but I wasn't walking anymore.
This was the point that Jeff lost it a little. Remember, he's in the terrible position of watching me delirious in pain and being completely unable to help. He decided to get me down the mountain by creating a sled out of one of our backpacks. That amazing man, he was going to find a way. Jeff and James discussed the logistics of this idea and probably more as I sat on the log and cried.
I'm sure we were quite the visual for fellow hikers.
We caught the attention of, of all people, a Canadian hiker. A Canadian hiker, all the way over here in Japan?! He stopped and very nicely asked if something was wrong and if he could help. God bless this stranger, he said he would hike all the way down to the 8th station and relay our situation and come back up to help. He had also just hiked this mountain and was probably just as exhausted as us, but was totally willing to help a stranger in pain. People will amaze you when you least expect it. We convinced him not to do all that.
Our little group caused an even bigger scene as hiker after hiker stopped to ask if we were okay and the Canadian hiker (who spoke better Japanese than us) relayed the situation. It was like an attraction that just grew a bigger audience. I swear at one point 15 people were circled around me speaking in various languages about getting me down the mountain. The Japanese understood I was hurt badly and could not walk. There was one amazing lady absolutely determined to help.
During this chaos, Jeff was frantically trying to get ahold of our insurance company. We needed to notify them before I was admitted into any Japanese hospital and we were under the understanding that the first aid place would admit me right away. He was calling our travel guide to explain the situation, he was calling friends in Misawa to find the insurance number, he was calling like crazy. All through terribly spotty reception, because hello, we're on a mountain.
All the chaos is funny now, but I'm fairly certain none of us smiled during this saga.
Apparently there are bulldozers trucks that travel up and down the mountain to transport workers and do...whatever else they need to do. By some weird coincidence, one happened to be driving down the mountain with a trunk full of workers.
The nice Japanese woman very forcefully asked the driver to stop and spoke to him in Japanese rapidly. We never figured out what she said or asked, but somehow she got him to agree to bring me and one person into the truck to take me down to the 6th station, where he was going. This is against the rules in every form of the word, but she must have been very persuasive.
Because Jeff was still trying to get into touch with everyone and trying to cope with the stress of injured Teri and reception-less mountain, he decided he needed to walk and find his calm while James rode with me. Since James was a little removed from the pain, he kept his cool. So about six Japanese men hoisted me up into the truck and James climbed in after.
Scariest ride of my life!
Pardon the terrible face!
So the inclines on the descent are still pretty steep and this truck was booking it. Apparently they drive forward down one turn all the way to the edge of the road, then reverse down the next turn all the way to the edge of the road and so on. Every time, it felt like we were about to fall off the mountain. We were bouncing around the truck like crazy and it was just the craziest ride. I think James and I just laughed as we rode because it was so ridiculous and so relieving that I was getting down a major chunk of the mountain.
Our tour guide worked some magic while we were descending. Apparently there are horse rides available between the 6th and 5th stations so she worked it out for me to ride one down the rest of the way. I think we paid $50, but I honestly couldn't have cared how much it cost as long as I didn't have to walk.
The lovely bulldozer driver dropped us right in front of an office at the 6th station, and the nice workers helped me into a chair to wait for the next step of the descent. James tried to get in touch with Jeff and figured out that he was making his way down the mountain, just more slowly than us obviously. I waited patiently for the horse. As I sat and calmed down, I realized how incredibly hungry I was after all the climbing.
I've never ridden a horse in my life. James grew up on a ranch. He thought my trepidation about climbing on the very calm horse was hilarious. He walked next to the horse as the tour guide walked him down the path and took pictures of me. I was so nervous! The last leg of the walk is cobbled stones and since it was wet, the horse was slipping as he walked. And he kept huffing when people got close to him so I don't think he enjoyed the crowded path. Still, I was so grateful for the horse and the guide and the help down the last leg of the descent.
We got back to the 5th station and a very nervous tour guide. She was ready to send us to the hospital if needed and a few of our fellow hikers that made it back early were eager to help however they could. I knew that the worst was over now that we were down the mountain though. I didn't need a Japanese hospital, it wasn't broken. I wanted to wait and be seen by the Americans in Misawa once our trip was over, so I assured them no hospital was necessary and James and another hiker helped me over to the restaurant area. We called Jeff again and he was still rapidly climbing down the mountain.
Since we still had plenty of time (the tour didn't leave for hours since we made it down the mountain a little faster with the truck and all), James and I hobbled over to a restaurant to get some food and water. Jeff eventually met up with us and all was well again.
We waited impatiently for the last stragglers to board the bus and head back to the hotel. We all washed the sweat and grime off and fell asleep almost immediately after getting some food.
The next day Jeff and James ventured out into Tokyo to see some sights and stretch their legs. I stayed in bed and iced my foot. I had some of the most glorious naps that day. My foot was still in pain but manageable so we could finally relax and enjoy the last day of vacation.
Once we got back to Misawa, I began the fun process of recovery. I had badly strained the tendon on the bottom of my foot connecting my heel and ball of the foot and recovery was a bitch. It took months but my foot is finally back to the state it was before the trip. I can run again, I can stand all day with minimal pain, and I don't have to worry about turning too quickly and sending it back into shooting pain.
The journey was a once in a lifetime experience. Despite the pain and rather unique events, I'm so glad I did it. It made me appreciate all my body can do. It made me appreciate just how much my husband supports me. It made me truly appreciate health and the ability to do simple things - like walk.
I have bragging rights for the rest of my life that I made it to the top of Mt. Fuji. And I have a truly unique and hilarious story about getting down the mountain. Because now that the memory of the pain has faded, it has to make you laugh. Who rides a bulldozer down Mt. Fuji anyways?
No comments:
Post a Comment