Nearness by Touch and Berg

Posted 18/09/2009 by jaimes

Touch & Berg present nearness, a digitised Goldberg contraption that adds networks to the mix of forces.

Around the moon seven times: getting to grips with big numbers

Posted 14/09/2009 by jaimes

This Fast Company post by Dan and Chip Heath points out that communicating big numbers isn’t about comparisons to other huge concepts, but about finding a comparison to something everyday and comprehensible.

Everybody should climb Fuji-san once

Posted 13/09/2009 by jaimes

We did our research before the trip, for me largely through blogs, and once in Japan, talking to people who had completed or attempted the climb. We decided to take the Subashiri route to the top, hoping it would be less crowded and a little more interesting starting out in the trees. The consensus seemed to be that it’s a tough trek and we were prepared to have a long slog to the top, even though we were starting from the bus stop at the 5th Station. In the end, our journey to the top of Japan was breathtaking and tiring, but eminently achievable and anyone reading this and thinking about having a go at it is thoroughly encouraged to go for it. The view of Fuji that forms a backdrop to so many scenes in Japan is now an intimate one and this transformed relationship with one of the most important cultural symbols of Japan is more than worth the effort to reach the top.

We set off on the last Saturday of the climbing season, the perfect time to share the mountain with thousands of other intrepid climbers. I’ve heard rumours about restricting numbers on Fuji and this seems like a smart plan. The mountain is literally crowded, the last 100m or so to the summit is experienced in a queue, although there did seem to be less people completing the hour or so trek around the crater. Nevertheless, the experience of climbing with all those people and seeing young and old heading up the slopes is part of Fuji’s story and will probably have to be accomodated somehow. On the far side of the crater we met a man of 70 on his 150th ascent, the 4th in the season. Fuji is a zen experience even with the crowds.

We’d only thought of booking a yamagoya a week or two before the trip and so we weren’t quite clear of the treeline after an hours walk when we hit basecamp at roku gomei or the 6th station around 5 o’clock on Saturday afternoon. This was a good way of approaching the walk though, giving us a chance to unwind a bit from the buzz of Tokyo, and enjoy the view of the summit above us. As darkness fell, we ate a dinner of Japanese curry and planned our ascent, and a steady stream of climbers slowly formed. After dinner we climbed the wooden staircase to our sleeping mats and organised our kit, expecting a wake-up call at 1am.

I woke a little before 1 and headed downstairs to the toilet. Outside I was a little taken aback, the crowd of people resting outside the yamagoya seemed to have swelled and the stream of climbers passing it was unbroken. I could only wonder about the guy dressed in a suit and tie, complete with office shoes, and using a wooden rifle as a walking stick. Heading back to the mats, I found Gaku awake and we decided to head off right away.

In the darkness and surrounded by other climbers, we set off for the most uncertain section of the climb. Steep switchbacks and frequent passing and waiting saw us put a good amount of altitude on the clock and before very long we reached the next station. Feeling fighting fit and with what seemed like pretty manageable stretches between stations, we decided to just go steadily and take timed breaks as we hit each station. These did get longer as the climb progressed, but the longest was 30 minutes and we didn’t take any unscheduled stops between stations. This strategy kept us ticking along nicely and we passed through a couple more stations (they’re not strictly linear, new 6th and old 7th are a little muddled up for me!), before the sky began to lighten. Just below the 8th station (new or old I wasn’t sure) we found a quiet spot out of the wind and settled down to watch the sunrise. Around us, most climbers did the same thing. This really was a fantastic moment. As the sky lightened, the lakes and other peaks of the Japanese Alps became visible and with a little space to ourselves between stations, it was a lovely, meditative moment. We went a little overboard taking photos and then set off again for the next phase of the climb.

With the sun now up and now more need for headlamps, the game changed. The feeling was a little like coming out of a nightclub into the morning sun, everyone a little worse for wear! And now it got really crowded as the ascending route criss-crossed the descending route of tractor-levelled switchbacks and congregated with the busy routes coming from the other side of the mountain. It also got a little chillier despite the sun, and above us we could see path disappearing into a mist that completely obscured the summit. Pushing on now was getting tougher but slow and steady was getting us there and so the metres ticked away as we ascended into the mist. Passing kyu gomei (the 9th), and now quite tired we sat, ate a little, rested and prepared for what we imagined to be the final push. A young man next to us fired up his cooker making tea and I missed my own favourite luxury item, having packed ultra light for this trip within a trip.

The final push wasn’t the epic that we’d imagined however. In the mist, the crowds now congregated to form a slow, step by step queue to complete the final 100 odd metres. This was more frustrating than tiring and by now I was also feeling the dull thud of a little bit of an altitude headache. The weather also appeared to be turning, it darkened and we could hear steady thunder off to the south. The triumph of reaching jyu gomei, the 10th tori gate at the top of the path, on the east side of the crater, was more gratitude at being released from the plodding queue. With volcanic sand blowing in our eyes from a fierce wind and a now steady headache, the summit felt a rather bittersweet glory.

Suddenly though, the clouds cleared and our 8 hours of upward toil were rewarded with a view of the land below. This immediately revived our spirits and we set off on the crater trek elated at the views and glad to get away from the crowds of people at the yamagoyas clustered at the top of the path. Aside from some scary winds along the exposed sections of the ridge, this was an amazing section of the walk. Fuji is thought to be dormant, even if it will still take hundreds of years before being technically considered so, so the crater itself is less threatening than the mars-scape that surrounds it. The contrast between the red volcanic rock and the lush greens far below was breathtaking.

In a somewhat laboured fashion, we reached the meterological station that is the true peak at 3776 metres and waited our turn to have our picture taken, reciprocating for the couple who’d obliged us. We then pushed on, now feeling thoroughly ready to descend. The hour long crater trek shouldn’t be left out of a climb, you’ve come all that way after all, but it was taxing us more than the climbing and completing the circumference just as the weather turned again we decided we were ready for an immediate descent rather than battling the crowds for a hot drink or meal.

And so we set off down the sandy switchbacks that serve as the first descent section as well as routes for the tractors that take supplies to the summit. Almost immediately with the fall in altitude, our spirits revived and our energy returned. We found that we could easily half-jog past other climbers on the wide sandy stretches and we began to think about what time we’d get back to Tokyo. In now blazing sun at and descending quickly and happily, we were glad of the night ascent. Those heading up the slope at this time were probably putting in 3 times the energy we’d done in the heat. Each hard-won hundred metres was descended in little time and within an hour we’d hit the 7th station and changed back into summer clothing.

 

At the treeline now and expecting the rockier path we’d ascended on, we wondered if we could remove the gators around our boots that had become caked in sand. We were soon thankful that we didn’t. Immediately after the 7th station, we found a group of climbers clustered around a confusing climb into what looked like a dry river bed. This turned out be the Subashiri, a section of deep, gravelly sand that descended straight down, no switchbacks for 600 metres. Those were a glorious, boy’s adventure 600 metres! The easiest way to negotiate the sand was simply to run, almost as if you were skiing, with frequent braking jumps to arrest your speed. Giving in to the joy of this and somewhat abandoning common sense, we clocked off 600 metres in a little less than 25 minutes, blazing past most of the other climbers. This section exited to a kind of rest station where we had a well-earned beer in the sun and cleaned the sand off our gear as best we could. We don’t have any photos of this section, it was simply over with too quickly, but the altitude graph I downloaded from my watch tells the story of our 8 hour ascent and 3 hour descent neatly.

All that remained was a short descent through the previous day’s forest. As we passed through the trees we were overtaken by the suit and tie guy from the previous night. We’d seen him a couple of times during the night and were glad he was alive and well, and pleasantly surprised that he was beating us back down the mountain, especially as we’d come down so speedily.

Hitting the fifth station, we washed the dirt from our faces and collapsed at the bus stop. As we waited, we watched several people frantically trying to arrange transport after coming down a different route than they’d planned!

The bus arrived and set off down through the infamous Fuji forests. Almost immediately, all the passengers nodded off and the driver pressed on, alone in consciousness! We reached Shin-Matsuda station with just enough time before our train to wolf down a bowl of noodles from the excellent shop that we’d seen all the station staff eating at the day before.

We bought another can of beer and climbed aboard our train with the other commuters heading to Tokyo, tired and covered in Fuji dust, but full and happy. Those pictures of Fuji will always be a little more intimate for Gaku and I.