Andrew's Ashes: Japan

Today would have been Andrew's 26th birthday. Instead of dwelling on the sadness of this day, I'd like to share one of my favorite stories from this project.

Jason Nash is an avid martial artist who has spent some time studying in Japan. Here is his story (copied here with his permission):

Shugyo - Spreading My Friends Ashes, Climbing Mt. Fuji Barefoot

Last year Andy, a good friend of mine, passed away. I had known him many years, and we had shared a similar dream in wanting to go all over the place and see all kinds of things. It was amidst realizing this dream that he had a motorcycle accident and died. For those that didn't know him, I can assure you he was a great guy and a fantastic friend; his family the same. That's why I jumped at the chance to help anyway I could. In order to fully realize his dream, his family had him cremated, and his ashes where given to his friends and family to spread all over the world. They even started a website to chronicle the spreading of his ashes, which can be viewed here:

http://andrewsashes.blogspot.com

    I was given some of the ashes, and I swore to his family that I would return to the top of Mount Fuji and spread them there.

    As I thought about the trip, just for a second, a thought crossed my mind. "I've already climbed the entire mountain, from far, far away (see previous entry), why don't I just take a bus to the fifth station, jog to the top, spread his ashes, and job back down? easy."   But then I realized I owed myself better than that, and I sure as hell owed Andy better. I was going to make this a shugyo; I was going to climb up that damn mountain from far far away, and I was going to do it on the old Yoshidaguchi Shugyosha trail. Barefoot.

    This trip would be the last thing I could give my friend, and for me, aside from climbing Mt. Fuji barefoot on the old shugyosha trail being great training, it would give me time to come to grips with some things. You see when you see your friends only every couple of years, you get used to the gaps in time. You just assume that after some more time, your paths will cross again, and you'll be able to swap all the stories you've been accumulating. I needed to come to grips with the fact that my friend was gone, and I wasn't ever going to see him again. This trip would afford me the opportunity to do just that.

    After I had made up my mind that I was going to do this, I set a date and got ready. The day came. A hurricane and a typhoon ravaged Japan the day/ week I was supposed to go. I decided against going then. During that week there was also a big earthquake that trashed a bunch of roads west of Tokyo. I was in the shower at the time, and escaped with no injuries except bashing my head into the wall. Apparently my timing was off that week.

    And if you believe in spirits, the following week as well. The following week was Obon vacation, which means the dojo and other such places where closed for the week. I told Mori that this is when I was going to Fuji. "Are you serous? You're walking the whole thing again? Even after what happened to you last year? During Obon? You do know that this is when ghosts are at their strongest in Japan, right?" No. "Well it is! Why are you going?" I told him for Andy, then I said for training I would go alone and barefoot, wearing nothing but my normal clothes. "No way, and you'll definitely get injured." I told him probably, but he was probably going to get injured fighting for the world middle weight title. He had no response. I told him that if I managed to complete this, he had to win the title. We agreed to do our best.

    The day before I was supposed to go, I made some onigiri and hard boiled eggs. I borrowed a small pouch from Jeff to put them in. I had decided I would go to bed early, at 9pm, and get up at 4:30am the next morning and take the first train out to our adventure.

    Tossing and turning that night I couldn't get to sleep. I was too antsy. The mere thought of something happening in the morning to prevent me from going was to much. I looked att he clock. "9:30pm" Then was just as good a time as any, I decided.

    I grabbed the pouch and left right then.

    Of course it was already 10pm by the time I made it to the train station. I took a train towards Mount Fuji, but it was late, so I only made it about a third of the way before the trains stopped running for the night. I ended up in Takao, found a good spot by the river, and went to sleep. When the trains started the next day, I set off again. Once I had arrived in Fujiyoshida the adventure had officially begun. Once I got to the shrine I had to start looking for the yoshidaguchi trail. Once I found it, it was just me, the woods, and my memories of Andy.

    As I walked through the forest admiring its beauty, the feel of the earth beneath my feet, various memories of Andy came to me. When we where much younger, he was the first person to tell me that they believed I could be a great martial artist. I also remember him taking care of his cute, but often sickly cat. I remembered his stories from Canada, which I always loved. And I thought of Pez. Andy and Pez candy always where connected in my mind.  Every time one of these memories would hit me, I was reminded that my friend was gone. For good. And he wasn't coming back.

    No matter how many friends this happens to, it never seems to get any easier.

    These emotions coupled with the solitude of my journey, as cathartic as it was, had begun to weigh on me. After awhile I saw an old japanese man up ahead, going the same was as I was. He was slower, and I was faster, so it was inevitable that our paths would cross. I really didn't feel like talking to anyone at that time, but the man thought otherwise.

    He offered a "hello" in japanese, then english...then german, french, spanish, and italian. The guy was so friendly, I couldn't help but be uplifted. Fitting for the situation. It never ceases to amaze me how things always work out exactly as they need to. This guy was so happy and knowledgeable, I'm not so sure he wasn't a forest spirit or something.

    "Are your feet ok?" he asked. Yes. "Why no shoes?" I told him about the shugyo and what I was doing here in the first place. "oh. You are a real karate man. How old are you? 24?" He was probably the first person to ever accurately guess my age, ever. "So you practice karate huh? What is one of your special techniques? The ax kick?" The accuracy of his guesses was completely surprising me. He then started asking me which kata I liked, by name. I knew then that he had more that a passing knowledge of the martial arts. He had definitely studied before. I asked him about it. "Only a little. When I was in school, my grandfather had a Shotokan dojo and I studied there." I drew the connection. This man who was clearly a grandpa himself, his grandfather had a Shotokan dojo ... he must be a disciple of Funokoshi sensei. "Oh! You know Funokoshi Sensei! You are a real karate man indeed!"

    I changed the subject to him. His name was Nobori Otsuki. About 60 years old, whose hobbies included learning languages, traveling the world, and mountaineering. In fact, he was on his 25th time climbing Mount Fuji! Our spirits fit perfectly. He asked me how I knew about this old trail, since even most japanese don't know about it. I said I came across it in an old book.

    The two of us continued up the mountain together making talk about martial arts, and the world. He mentioned that he was a certified guide, and that if I had any questions I should ask him. I wasn't going to pass up an opportunity like that. Every time we passed an old shrine, or tombstone, or anything, he would explain to me it's significance. I was lucky to run into this man.

    Once we got further up to the tourist populated areas, people started to notice I was barefoot. Notice might be too light of a word. They were in complete shock. Every time I passed someone they would take out their phone and call someone further up the mountain to tell them about me. When I would get further up, the people would run to find me, just to see if I really existed. Once they confirmed it, they would run and go get one of their friends, and the cycle would repeat.

    I became a legend on that mountain.

    To be honest though, the last 1/10 of the way up, I wanted to quite. But I anticipated this. I put safeguards in place. I could not let Andy and his family down. I could not break my promise to Mori, and I couldn't let down the old man who I had met. I had made failure impossible.

    Towards the top it got to the point where every step caused me pain. I could feel the bottoms of my feet ripping and the rocks sticking to raw flesh. The tourist trash of nails and broken glass I had so carefully avoided before become trivial to me. I wasn't going to look at the bottom of my feet though, because I didn't want to become psyched out. Nothing mattered except for staying standing. If I ever seemed like I was breaking, Nobori would yell "Kiai!". I would, and then continue on.

    Finally I made it to the top. Nobori said to me "Congratulations. You have finished your shugyo, and can now honor your friends. You have two dragon soul." Two dragon soul? "Yes. You have dragon soul. Spirit of dragon. Never give up and can do anything. And dragon sole. Feet of dragon!" Then he laughed. I love puns. It was here we took our picture together, and many many people I didn't even know came up to get their picture taken with me. Like I said, I became a legend on that mountain. Otsuki decided to sleep at the inn on the top of the mountain.

    After all the shenanigans, I practiced kata, then spread Andy's ashes, muttering a final goodbye.

    I was now ready to leave the mountain. I was stumbling around trying to figure out which way I was going to go, when I ran into a family doing the same thing. The wife said she knew the quickest way down the mountain. We banded together and headed that way. Her book said the trail was a 2 hour trail. 5 hours later we where still stumbling around in the dark on the the side of the mountain.

    Eventually we ended up at the 5th station. Or rather A fifth station. I had climbed up one side of the mountain and down the other side, opposite from where I needed to be. It was now 2am. The family decided they would take a taxi to a nearby town. They offered me a ride, but I wasn't sure if the station was the one I wanted to go to. I asked the attendant on duty. He assured me I did not want to go there. He said they had a bus that went straight to Shinjuku that left int he morning. So I turned down the taxi and decided I would sleep outside at the 5th station until morning and take the bus back.

    I went to sleep and was immediately greeted by extreme cold. I spent a couple hours shivering so violently I thought blood would come out of my pores. Every once in a while someone would walk by and comment. One girl said " Oh my god! That guy is going to die if somebody doesn't give him something to stay warm with!" Then she just walked on.

    I got up a little before sunrise, and was greeted by a most spectacular meteor shower. Then the sun started to rise and I performed my morning exercises to the sunrise. It was beautiful. If spreading Andy's ashes was my last gift to him, then this was his last gift to me. After my exercises, I went up to the attendant, who had since changed, and asked him when the bus for Shinjuku left. " There isn't one." What? The attendant before you said their was..."He's wrong, your only hope is to take a bus to a nearby town, and take a train from there." Yes, the town he was referring to was the very same town the family went to in the taxi. The one I had passed on thanks to the previous attendants advice.

    I had no choice but to wait for the bus to the town, which I took. Which was great, except that I had come down the opposite side of the mountain, and was now heading even further in the wrong direction. Once I go to the train station, I ended up even further away. In fact, I got a tour of the whole south end of the island. Against my will.

    Three days after I had left I returned.

    All my missions complete, with no desire to ever go back to that mountain. I know looked at the bottoms of my feet, and surprisingly, there wasn't a scratch. When people found out what I had done, and that I had come out unscathed, they where shocked. No one was more shocked than me though.

    Ever since I came back, random friends of friends have bumped into me, and asked if the rumors where true. If I was the real "man of legend" that climbed Mount Fuji barefoot, or did this or that.

I can only answer yes, and I've got Andy to thank for it.

Rest in peace buddy,
-Nash

ps. To anyone else out there with a dream, don't hesitate. The only time is the time you make yourself.

by the river in takao