🎌 Day 11 🎌

39 miles / 2,123 ft / 3:19

We woke to a rainy morning at our hotel on the lake. Lisa walked to the nearby 7-Eleven for breakfast while I watched the rain ribbon across the glass. The hotel staff showed us kindness, letting us linger in the lobby after our check out and chatting warmly about our trip. We finally rolled out around 10:30 a.m.

Our route circled Lake Yamanaka (山中湖 – Yamanakako), one of the Fuji Five Lakes at the base of Mount Fuji. Clouds and thunderstorms kept Fuji hidden, but we still climbed to various viewpoints. The signs and overlooks made us chuckle, and I said,“This is where Mount Fuji would be…” We noticed others were doing the same, and not letting the weather dampen their spirits. People were jet skiing, paddle boarding, fishing, and cruising on the famous swan-shaped sightseeing boat (白鳥ボート – hakuchō bōto) despite the weather.

Of course, Jim’s routing wasn’t the easy, direct loop. He strung together climbs along the mountainsides, aiming for those classic Fuji viewpoints. Today they were simply climbs into the mist—quiet, contemplative breaks from the weekend crowds.

We stopped at Arakura Fuji Sengen Shrine (新倉富士浅間神社 – Arakura Fuji Sengen Jinja) and the Chureito Pagoda, usually a world-famous spot for Fuji views. The area was quiet in the rain, and though Fuji was hidden, we still enjoyed the hike up to the overlook. Jim had also scouted a little snack shop on Google Maps that sells roasted sweetheart potatoes, so after traveling thousands of miles we finally visited the exact place he had starred. The older woman running the shop smiled kindly as she served us a large, caramel-sweet 焼き芋 (yaki-imo – roasted sweet potato), which we enjoyed with ice-cold 烏龍茶 (ūron-cha – oolong tea) before tackling the next climb.

That climb led us into the woods and away from tourists. We rang our bells from time to time—like carrying 熊鈴 (kuma-suzu – bear bells)—hoping any nearby bears would take the hint and amble off.

From there, we rode to Kawaguchi Asama Shrine (河口浅間神社 – Kawaguchi Asama Jinja), founded in 865 after a major Fuji eruption to honor Konohanasakuya-hime (木花咲耶姫), the goddess of Mt. Fuji and volcanoes. The shrine is famous for its ancient cedar trees (杉 – sugi), some more than 1,200 years old and towering over 150 feet (46 meters.) The most striking are the 七本杉 (Shichihon Sugi – Seven Cedars), designated as a natural monument of Yamanashi. A pair called the 両柱杉 (Futahashira Sugi) stand side by side with intertwined roots, wrapped in sacred 注連縄 (shimenawa) ropes, symbolizing harmony and blessings for relationships.

Along the way we also met people whose kindness shaped the day: a man directing traffic near the train station, dressed similar to a policeman, wished us safety and guided us toward bicycle parking; the hotel cleaning staff who encouraged our journey; and the warm smile of the sweet potato vendor. These small encounters carry as much weight as the scenery.

We pedaled along Lake Kawaguchi (河口湖 – Kawaguchiko) under a light sprinkle. The ride was beautiful—mist curling across the water, leaves glistening, and quiet roads beneath our 自転車 (jitensha – bicycles). By 4:00 p.m. we rolled into our hippie-style hostel Honobono (which means friendship), greeted by the owner, Masaya, and his wife who welcomed us with genuine hospitality.

That evening we met James, a young man from New Mexico and a member of the Navajo Nation, staying at the hostel before attempting his own climb of Mount Fuji. He shared his plan to carry the Navajo Nation flag to the summit, a journey he hoped to mark with a photograph. He will be spending the next year in Japan, studying and living with his Japanese girlfriend. Meeting him reminded us again of how travel brings unexpected connections.

Dinner was simple yet perfect: another round of 7-Eleven premade meals, enjoyed together at the hostel in our quiet tatami mat room—a fitting close to a day filled with rain, climbs, ancient cedars, and the kindness of strangers.Meer informatie