Forget Fuji. Seriously. Put it on the “skip” list.
It is 12,388 feet of graceful symmetry and UNESCO status, sure. But look closer at the trailheads. You don’t see nature. You see chaos. Disrespect. Irresponsibility. And the kind of environmental damage that sticks to your ribs long after the hike is over.
Japan hit a record 42.7 million visitors in 2022, many lured in by the weak yen and Tokyo’s neon glow. Kyoto’s temples are packed too. It seems half of them are chasing the internet’s holy trinity. Ramen. Matcha. And that perfect, close-up selfie with Mount Fuji looming in the background.
Is the economy happy? Maybe. Supply chains aren’t. Locals aren’t.
Take Fujikawaguchiko. It used to be a view of a volcano overlooking a lake. Now? It’s a convenience store for hordes of tourists who treat the landscape like a photo prop. By 2024 the traffic got so bad officials put up black mesh fencing. Just to block the view. In Fujiyoshida neighbors had to cancel their cherry blossom festival. Ten years of tradition. Gone. Because the towns couldn’t handle the daily flood.
The trails themselves are breaking. Between July and September roughly 200,00 people climb Fuji. Kilimanjaro sees 50,000 annually. All four months worth. The result is litter everywhere. Soil contaminated. Erosion setting in fast.
Does it have to be like this?
No. Japan isn’t just one mountain. The Alps and the Yatsugatake range are right there. They are wild. Quiet. And they put Fuji’s monotonous human chain to shame. Harasawa put it simply. The mountains there are completely different. You can traverse long ridgelines. Do rock climbs. Trek rivers. Hikers find actual diversity here. Not just a straight line up and down.
I hiked four lesser-known high-altitude trails recently. They offered what Fuji lacks. Peace. Space. Solitude.
Heads up. These routes go above 9,309 feet. Daily altitude gains are steep. You need stamina. Fitness isn’t optional. Except for one route the hiking isn’t technical. Some scrambling? Yes. Go solo if you must but a guide helps. Safety matters.
Southern Alps: The Big Two
Mount Kita and Mount Aino sit in the Minami Alps. They are Japan’s second and fourth tallest peaks. A seasonal bus runs from Kofu City between late June and early November. Get to Kofu in 90 minutes from Tokyo.
The standard way to Kita (10,437 ft / 3,180 m) is a brutal two-day grind from Hirogawara. Take an extra day though. Link it to Aino (10,194 ft / 3,060 m) via an incredible ridgeline. It makes the sore legs worth it.
Then there is Mount Yari. Its spire is sharp like a spear. Reaching it often means crossing the Daikiretto.
Do you know the Daikiretto? It’s a knife-edge ridge. The drops are sheer. People die on it almost every year.
It’s technically classified as non-technical. No rope needed. No specialized gear required. Loose rock and slippery granite taught me better. Wear a helmet. Grab gloves that hold onto edges. If you don’t have the focus for three hours of exposed scrambling stay on the safe side. Never go in bad weather. Period.
Prefer to avoid the razor edge? Split the hike. Do Oku-hotaka first. Hit Yari another day. Separate the peaks. Separate the risks.
Yatsugatake: The Defeated Challenger
Legend says Yatsugatake fought Fuji. Ancient Shinto folklore. They argued over height. Fuji’s goddess won. She smashed Yatsugatake into peaks. Eight of them. The tallest survivor is Mount Aka at 9,193 ft (2,789 m).
Today Aka stands alone as the range’s champion. A two-day hike gets you to the top. Views stretch back across the Japan Alps all the way to Fuji.
Start at Minotoguchi. Take the bus from Chino City. Nagano prefecture. About two hours from Shinjuku by train. The path climbs a valley next to a crystal stream. Moss-covered boulders line the way. Stop at the Gyoja Goya hut.
Huts exist on all four trails. Open until October. You can sleep inside cozy rooms. Or pitch a tent outside. The final climb from Goya Goya to the summit shrine on Aka is hard. Your legs will burn. The air gets thin.
When you stand at the top red-hued rock beneath your feet you pay your respects to the gods. Then you look out. Towards Fuji.
What does its goddess see? A million legs. Lines of people. Noise.
Yatsugatake lost the war. It broke apart. But it won the peace.
The battle between mountains isn’t over, is it?
Read more about Japan’s national parks here
