At this time of year, the mountains you can climb and the activities you can enjoy are heavily dictated by the weather, often making it impossible to decide on a destination until the very last minute. Choosing equipment is also a real dilemma, but for this trip, we decided on a 1-night, 2-day climb of the Aka-dake Main Ridge, a variation route in the Yatsugatake Mountains, hoping that the weekend cold snap would bring some snow. Although the Aka-dake Main Ridge is considered an introductory route among Yatsugatake winter variations and we approached it without much apprehension, a combination of freshly fallen, powdery snow and a route-finding error turned it into quite a thrilling climb.
DAY 1
We left Nagoya on Friday night, took a three-hour nap at Minotoguchi, and woke up at 5:00 AM. Dragging yourself out of a warm sleeping bag in winter is truly the hardest part, but I reluctantly crawled out to start preparing. Suddenly, I heard a "whoosh" sound from outside. When I looked, it was pouring rain, and since we hadn't prepared for rain, our spirits plummeted instantly. Thankfully, the rain soon turned to sleet, which put us at ease. Around 6:00 AM, we drove to the Minoto parking lot and began our preparations.
Carrying this much heavy gear is as exhausting as it was back when we climbed Shakujo-dake. However, the advantage of Yatsugatake is that you can reach the campsite in about three hours, allowing you to haul in plenty of food and drinks.
Partway up, the terrain opens up, and seeing the Yatsugatake range blanketed in snow finally got me excited.
Upon arriving at the Gyojagoya Hut, we set up our tent and began preparing for the climb. It was still November, but the cold snap meant the air was cold enough to make our hands and feet go numb even while setting up camp. Time-wise, it was a bit borderline to start climbing that day, so we began to debate. Some wanted to climb today, while others suggested checking the starting point and going for it if time permitted. Another opinion (actually mine, haha) was that since tomorrow’s weather looked good, we should just stay here and enjoy some drinks. After some back-and-forth, we decided to head out to check the starting point, which would serve as both reconnaissance and preparation for the next day.
We took the Bunzaburo Trail to the start. Although we’ve walked this path countless times in both summer and winter, the endless steep stairs are quite grueling. We kept a slow pace to avoid sweating. We reached the junction in about an hour, where the debate resumed. Given the time, sunset would certainly hit while we were still on the route, and the conditions—fast-moving clouds, strong winds, and fog—along with the bitter cold, led us to prioritize safety and push the attempt to the next day.
We hurried back to the campsite and arrived by 2:00 PM. With nothing to do, we started sipping on drinks and snacks we’d brought. I love this time in the mountains; I spent the rest of the day in leisure, even taking a nap. For dinner, we had hot pot (hinabe), which pairs perfectly with shochu and was just right for warming our bodies on such a cold day. Once we ran out of drinks, we went to sleep at 8:00 PM to prepare for the next day.
DAY 2
Up at 4:30 AM. Usually, I struggle to leave my sleeping bag, but today it was warm and I slipped out easily. The tent wasn't even frozen. Compared to yesterday, the temperature felt significantly higher. After a warm breakfast of somen noodles, we prepped our gear and set off around 5:30 AM.
The sun hadn’t risen yet, but it felt much warmer than the day before. The weather looked promising, promising a perfect day for climbing. We took the same path as yesterday, moving slowly to avoid breaking a sweat. In about an hour, we reached the junction, put on our crampons, grabbed our ice axes, and headed toward the start.
If there had been solid snow cover from here to the start, it would have been much easier to walk, but since it was just loose scree covered in a thin layer of powdery snow, it was difficult to gain footing and our axes wouldn't bite. On steep slopes, we used our hands and feet to traverse, but my hands buried into the snow, which was painful, so I had to warm them with my own body heat while inching forward.
Mid-traverse, the sun began to rise, and looking back, Mount Amida was bathed in the red glow of the alpenglow—an incredibly beautiful sight.
Upon reaching the start, we faced the chockstone on the first pitch, said to be the most difficult part. I took the lead on the first pitch, and because the fresh snow hadn't built up yet, I cleared it by shimmying under the rock. It wasn't particularly hard, but apparently, my line was poor, and my climbing partner, following me, ended up climbing a vertical wall and complained, "That was brutal!" After that, there were no major difficulties, and we switched off leading (swinging leads). On pitches without significant risk, we climbed with the rope on our backs until we entered the fifth pitch.
My partner led the fifth pitch. There was a long auxiliary rope hanging there, and although they started climbing from the left side, it looked like a real struggle. We hadn't been told it would be that tough, so I immediately became alert. With the holds hidden by snow, we had to search for them while climbing. There were sections where we had to traverse a vertical wall or dry-tool (climbing rock with crampons and axes) with almost no handholds. By the time I reached my partner, I was physically and mentally drained.
From there, there were no more scary parts, and we cleared the final chimney without issue. As we pushed up, the mountain trail came into view; we joined it and reached the summit in about five minutes. It took us about four hours from the start.
I was completely exhausted by the time we reached the summit, but the view from the top of Aka-dake, which I've seen many times before, felt strangely more beautiful that day. I was filled with a sense of wonder, accomplishment, and refreshment.
Mountains change with the weather and snow conditions, but experiencing these difficult moments led to a climb that will serve us well in the future. This trip reminded me just how much I love alpine climbing that rewards you with a summit. We ate our snacks, took a commemorative photo at the summit, returned to the campsite to quickly break down our tent, pack up, and begin our descent.
When I checked the route again after getting home, I realized we had taken a wrong turn at the most difficult part of the fifth pitch—which explained why it was so brutal! More than anything, I was relieved to have made it back safely, and I couldn't help but feel grateful to my companions for such a fulfilling trip.