Bring it on, Hakusan!

After having (barely) survived my 12-hour trek on Mt. Fuji, I'd promised myself a break from mountain climbing for a while. But some fellow JETs invited me to climb Hakusan ("White Mountain") in neighboring Ishikawa prefecture over our long holiday weekend. One of the three holy mountains in Japan (Fuji is also one), Hakusan was not to be missed, they told me. It's smaller and more scenic that Fuji, they told me. We'd take a break from climbing to sleep in a lodge, they told me. Sounded like a great plan.

But there are some things you can't plan for. Typhoons, for example.

The climb started out wonderfully. We couldn't have asked for better weather as we zipped up the "difficult" trail toward the summit. We passed through fields of wild flowers, groves of pine trees and scenic bluffs. We stopped for lunch on a ridge that overlooked the entire Hakusan range. Beautiful, puffy clouds dotted the bright blue sky.

But the higher we climbed, the darker the sky got. By about 2200 meters - too late to turn around and seek shelter - the sky opened up and the rains began. And they didn't stop. The typhoon was upon us. I'd never seen anything as beautiful as the lodge peeking through the sheets of rain at the end of our 5-1/2 hour ascent.

Though we arrived soggy and chilled to the bone, we passed a lovely evening at the lodge. With the typhoon howling around us, we introduced "beer pong" to Japanese guests in the lodge cafeteria and were rewarded with gifts of homemade plum wine and salmon jerky from a guest named Saito-san. We snuggled under layers of fuzzy blankets, lured to sleep by Saito-san's wine and weary muscles from our 2500 meter ascent.

The next morning dawned overcast but warm. We worked our way to the summit shrine, only to find that the typhoon wasn't quite over. About halfway to the top, we were greeted by more rain and more torrential winds. At the top, we dug celebratory sake and potato chips out of our soggy backpacks as the wind howled around us.

We managed to smile for a few pictures, but the celebration was short-lived. We were hit with hail - yes, hail - wind and more rain on the way down. The experience made me long for Fuji, which by comparison, was an easy, hail-free climb. Nearly three hours later, we arrived at our car at the bottom of the mountain. As the clothes on our backs and the clothes in our backpacks were soaked, we hunkered down for a chilly ride back to Fukui-ken.

Needless to say, it may be a while before I complete the Japanese holy mountain trifecta!