It took about 40 minutes to reach the sixth station (elevation 2,490 meters). It was a fairly gentle climb and the scenery was magnificent. There was no litter at all, and smartweed and other alpine plants were in bloom everywhere.

People passed me on their way down, and many called out “Konnichiwa,” the cheerful daytime greeting. All of them—families, groups of older climbers, people from overseas and others—seemed to be having a good time on the volcano.

It took another two hours or so to get to the seventh station (elevation 3,010 meters). By that time the slope was quite a bit steeper, but I was still holding out well. Then a fog wafted in and blocked out the view below. The visibility rapidly dropped to just a few meters. The climbers ahead of me seemed to have disappeared. I pushed on, short of breath. About a half hour later, I finally reached Ganso Nana-gome, the hostel where I planned to stay the night. I had an early supper, then admired the view. And what a view! I was 3,010 meters above sea level, high above a blanket of clouds.

Morning came early. Soon after 4 a.m., a hostel employee was at my ear: “It's time to get up. The sun will be up in a moment.”

I staggered outside, still half asleep. The sky was dark, and my breath made a white mist in the cold air. I peered blearily about. Soon, streaks of orange began to attack the night. To the east, the sun colored the contours of Mount Hoei, a small volcanic cone on the flank of Mount Fuji. I felt that my search for beauty was finally fulfilled.