Junko Tabei Masters the Mountains Page 2

  Suddenly self-conscious, Junko touched the collar of her plain white cotton blouse. It was a hand-me-down from one of her sisters, and so was her old blue skirt with the holes in the pockets.

  The girl’s gaze traveled from Junko’s hair (her mother had cut it with a pair of crafting scissors, so her bangs were a little crooked) to her leather shoes (they were also hand-me-downs and were badly scuffed) and back up again. She raised her perfectly groomed eyebrows.

  “Yes?”

  “Um…I’m new here,” Junko stammered.

  “Obviously. What’s your accent? I mean, where are you from?”

  Junko hadn’t expected that question. Did her Japanese sound different from other people’s Japanese? “I’m from Miharu.”

  “Where?”

  “It’s in the Tohoku region. In Fukushima Prefecture.”

  “Well, I’ve never heard of it.”

  Junko was so flustered that she forgot to ask for directions. The girl shrugged, then left to join two other girls. They also looked like models.

  I don’t belong here, she thought miserably. I should have stayed in the country, just like my mother said.

  Things didn’t get any better after that first day. College seemed like a private club where everyone knew how to act except for her. The students were so stylish and sophisticated. And Junko’s Japanese, with its rural accent, did sound different from other people’s Japanese. Not to mention that she found her classes very difficult. The teachers were incredibly strict and serious. And college homework was much worse than middle and high school homework.

  Plus, there was dormitory life.

  “Junko, it’s after ten pm. You know the rules. Lights out!” her dormitory mother scolded her. She made her rounds through the building every night to make sure all the students were in bed.

  “But I’m not done with my homework for tomorrow,” Junko protested.

  “You should have finished it during the day like everyone else. Lights out and into bed now. You’re disturbing your dorm mates with your noise.”

  Noise? You mean the noise from me silently reading my history textbook? Junko wanted to say. Or the noise from me silently solving math problems in my workbook? But she knew better than to talk back; she’d get into even more trouble that way.

  The other dormitory rules didn’t make much sense, either.

  “Junko, you know you’re not allowed to leave the campus!”

  “But I was only gone for fifteen minutes. I was hungry, and the cafeteria was closed, and—”

  “How many times do I need to tell you? You’re only allowed to leave the campus on Wednesdays, Saturdays, and Sundays.”

  Seriously?

  Junko felt like a prisoner.

  She was nervous and sad all the time because of the pressure and her loneliness. She couldn’t sleep or eat, and she worried constantly about little things.

  Concerned, her father came to Tokyo and brought her to a doctor. The doctor recommended that she take some time off from school. He told her that she had to rest and recharge and that she needed to take care of herself physically, mentally, and emotionally.

  Junko listened to his advice and took a short leave of absence from Showa. She went to stay at an onsen resort and took long walks through the woods every day, which helped with her moods. She wrote in her diary, trying to sort through her jumbled feelings.

  * * *

  The break was exactly what Junko needed, and she returned to Showa to continue with her classes with a new perspective. She made some changes, like living in a rented room in a house instead of living in a dormitory. This gave her more freedom from strict curfews. She enjoyed music, so she started learning to play the koto, a harp-like Japanese instrument. She also tried harder to make friends and to have a life outside of school.

  One day, some students invited her to go mountain climbing with them. The plan was to hike up Mount Mitake, near Tokyo. Of course, Junko agreed.

  Hiking up Mount Mitake, Junko remembered how she’d felt hiking up Asahi Peak with Mr. Watanabe and her classmates. She remembered how hard it was on the way up, and how she’d almost quit and turned back around. She remembered the exhilaration and sense of achievement she had felt when she’d finally reached the summit.

  On the way home, Junko went to a bookstore and bought a guidebook about the mountains in the area. She was excited to find that there were many high peaks near Tokyo. And she wanted to climb them all!

  Using the guidebook, Junko began to organize weekend mountaineering trips for herself. Just planning these trips—choosing the mountains, buying train and bus tickets, looking over trail maps, packing her backpack—gave her a sense of joy and purpose. Her father sent her an allowance every month that helped to cover the costs. He believed that hiking was good for Junko, inside and out.

  With these trips, Junko found a way back to herself. If she was feeling low, she could lift herself up by going to the mountains. She understood that each time she climbed, she would arrive at a wonderful place she had never been to before.

  But her newfound happiness didn’t last. One day, she received a terrible—and unexpected—telegram from her mother.

  “Father passed away. Come home immediately.”

  * * *

  “Your father would want you to finish college,” Junko’s mother told her after the funeral. She wore her dark-colored mourning kimono, and her hair seemed more silver than black.

  Fresh tears spilled down Junko’s cheeks. She’d been crying so much that her eyeballs felt raw. She guessed that her mother’s eyes must feel raw, too, even though Kiyo was doing her best to keep her face calm and composed.

  “College tuition is expensive,” Junko said. “I should come home and get a job and help pay the bills, now that…now that…” Her voice caught in her throat, and she began crying even harder.

  “Your brothers and I will make sure our family has enough money. We’ll send you an allowance every month, just as your father did.”

  “But I can’t—”

  “Yes, you can. No arguments. Now, go help your sisters make tea.”

  That night, Junko lay in her old, familiar bed, still dressed from the day, and stared up at the ceiling. The collar of her black dress felt too small, and her tights itched, but she barely noticed. She couldn’t believe her father was gone. Who would encourage her to take care of herself…achieve her dreams…climb more mountains?

  She planned to spend the rest of the week with her family and then take a train back to Tokyo to resume her classes. Thinking about Tokyo made her think even more about her father. He’d brought her to Tokyo for the very first time, at the beginning of her freshman year. On the journey, he’d told her about his own younger days. He’d ridden a motorcycle and played the violin. He’d loved adventure and trying new things.

  Just like her.

  Junko knew that she would carry her father’s spirit with her for the rest of her life.

  It’s up to me now.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “Junko is coming with us? Seriously? Are you sure she’s ready?”

  At the train station in Tokyo, a man named Yajima was complaining to his friend Yoko-o about her as though she were invisible. The two men were members of the Ryoho Climbing Club, a new mountaineering group that Junko had recently joined. Yoko-o was the leader of Ryoho. He was tall and had long, tousled hair that reminded Junko of her old teacher, Mr. Watanabe, except way younger. Yajima, also young, was short and stocky.

  I’m standing right here, guys, Junko wanted to say. But she knew she should probably keep her mouth shut; she didn’t want to make Yajima even more annoyed that a newcomer was climbing with them. A female newcomer.

  “She’ll be fine. I don’t climb with anyone who’s not ready. Grab your gear, both of you, or we’re going to miss the 10:12 train,” Yoko-o said impatiently.

  Junko smiled sweetly at Yajima. He scowled at her but said nothing. One point for female mountaineers! she thought.

  She
didn’t tell Yajima (or Yoko-o, either) that she’d been this close to not showing up. She’d agreed to perform at a koto recital earlier, and there was no way she could do both. But in the end, she’d thought, Why not? And so she’d performed at the recital, hastily changed from her fancy kimono into her climbing clothes, and made a mad dash for the train station.

  Ryoho was the second mountaineering club Junko had belonged to since graduating from Showa Women’s University in 1962. During the day, she worked as an editor at the University of Tokyo. It wasn’t her dream job, but it was nice to make money for herself. On the weekends, she tried to climb as often as possible with her fellow club members.

  For years, Junko had heard that clubs were the best way to meet other mountaineers, learn new climbing skills, and save time and money on trips and equipment. But it hadn’t been easy to find a club that would accept her. Most of them said “NO WOMEN ALLOWED” in their ads in big, bold letters.

  The first club she’d joined did accept women, but they weren’t happy about it. The male climbers gossiped behind the female climbers’ backs, whispering things like, So-and-so is only here to find a husband. So-and-so is always climbing with him, so they must be dating. It was like fourth grade all over again.

  Luckily for Junko, Yoko-o, who was the leader of Ryoho, was different from the guys at in her first club. He didn’t seem to care that she was a woman; to him, she was just another mountaineer. Like her father (and Mr. Watanabe, too), Yoko-o seemed only to care that she was eager to learn and willing to train hard and not give up.

  A few hours later, Junko, Yoko-o, and Yajima reached the base of Mount Tanigawa.

  “You know Tanigawa is dangerous, right?” Yajima said casually to Junko as they left the train station and started toward the trailhead with their backpacks. “Hundreds of climbers have died here. One slip of the foot, or being at the wrong place at the wrong time during an avalanche, and…” He shrugged and made a grim face.

  “Yajima…” Yoko-o warned.

  “H-hundreds of people?” Junko repeated nervously. Okay, so maybe she wasn’t ready for this.

  “We’ll be fine. Just remember your training. Lean out. Don’t climb with your arms. Avoid wet grass, which can be worse than a slippery rock face. Watch what I do, and listen to my instructions,” Yoko-o said.

  Junko nodded and took a deep, calming breath. She reminded herself of something that her father had taught her: It’s all right to be afraid. Fear is human. Just pay attention to what your fear is telling you and make smart decisions.

  These days, fear was a necessary part of mountaineering for Junko. Since her college graduation, she’d also graduated to a new kind of climbing. She no longer simply walked up trails, flat or steep; she’d added rock climbing to her skill set.

  Rock climbing is the sport of climbing up, down, or across rocks, with the goal being to reach the top (and return to the bottom) without falling. It involves breaking your climb up into a series of steps—for example, placing two anchors (one way above, one way below) on the ledges of a steep, sometimes vertical rock face; tying a long rope between them; and using that rope to climb securely. These steps have to be repeated as you and the rest of your team go up or down.

  As a climber, you have to trust the people you are climbing with to decide on a route, to change that route along the way if you run into problems, to rope or not to rope, and make the dozens of other decisions—big and small—that have to be made during a climb.

  I would trust Yoko-o with my life, Junko thought as they started up Mount Tanigawa. And, to be honest, I trust Yajima, too. He may be kind of a jerk, but he’s a good climber.

  * * *

  The climb up Mount Tanigawa that day was successful. Junko continued climbing with the Ryoho club and learning from Yoko-o.

  At a club meeting one evening, he pulled her aside.

  “You’re ready to go to eight thousand meters now,” he told her quietly. Eight-thousand-meter mountains were some of the highest mountains in the world.

  “I don’t think so…”

  “Of course you are. You’re also ready to climb alone with a female partner.”

  Alone with a female partner?

  Female climbers were still rare compared to male climbers. Because of that, the best, most experienced climbers tended to be men. And when you were still learning, it was important to climb with someone better and more experienced than yourself for safety reasons. If women were new to climbing, it followed that a woman shouldn’t climb alone with another woman…right?

  “You’re ready, Junko. Okay, let’s get back to club business.”

  Yoko-o was a person of few words, and he never gave compliments.

  But he was giving her a compliment now.

  Eight thousand meters. Female partner.

  She was ready!

  CHAPTER SIX

  One day, Junko got an unexpected call at work.

  “Hi! My name is Rumie,” said a woman’s voice. “I’d love to climb with you sometime. Do you want to meet up and plan a trip?”

  Junko was intrigued by this woman’s invitation, especially after Yoko-o’s encouraging words. The two women agreed to meet at the train station in Tokyo the following week.

  Junko got there first and waited in the lobby area. She stood off to the side to avoid the mad rush of commuters who all looked alike in their black and gray suits, hats, and briefcases. The delicious smells of freshly baked pan—sweet, custard-filled buns—wafted from a nearby snack stand, but she wasn’t hungry. In fact, her stomach kind of hurt, and her palms were sweaty. She wasn’t used to strangers inviting her to climb with them. What if she didn’t like this woman? What if the woman didn’t like Junko? What if Yoko-o was wrong, and Junko wasn’t ready to climb without an experienced male climber along?

  “Jun-chan!”

  Only her family, a few of her friends, and other climbers in her club used this nickname for her. Junko looked around to see who had called out, but she didn’t see anyone she knew.

  Then a young woman came running up to her, waving like mad. She stopped in front of Junko, a wide smile on her round face. She was almost the same height as Junko, and her hair was shaggy. Both young women were small but strong.

  “Sorry for surprising you! I’m Rumie!” the woman began breathlessly. “I’ve seen you on some of the weekend trains to the mountains, and I overheard other people calling you Jun-chan, so I said it without thinking. But I will call you ‘Junko-san’ from now on, like a person with manners. I promise! I’m so, so happy to meet you!”

  Why had Junko been so nervous? Rumie was friendly and warm.

  “I’m happy to meet you, too! And it’s okay— please call me Jun-chan.”

  Rumie smiled even wider. “Jun-chan, then.”

  At a nearby café, they talked about mountains over cups of coffee and plates of pan.

  “How often do you climb? Like every weekend?” Junko asked Rumie.

  “More! Every weekend, and during the week, too,” Rumie replied. “I take a train to the mountains as soon as my workday is over. Then I climb up, camp out, climb back down, and take a train to Tokyo the next morning so I won’t be late for my job.”

  “Are you serious?”

  Rumie grinned from ear to ear. “I guess I’m a little obsessed with climbing.”

  “A little?”

  The two women cracked up.

  “I’m jealous you can do that, though,” Junko admitted. “So have you ever climbed with a female partner?”

  “Nope. You’d be my first. What about you?”

  “You’d be my first, too. Yoko-o-san said he thought I was ready to climb with a female partner.”

  “The Yoko-o-san? He’s a megalegend. Did you know he had a terrible climbing accident when he was a teenager?”

  “What?”

  “He and another climber. At Tsuitate Slab. Yoko-o-san was in the hospital for a long time.”

  “Oh my gosh!”

  Junko thought about Yoko-o. Kn
owing he hadn’t given up on mountaineering after experiencing such a tragedy and being hurt himself made her admire him even more.

  “He’s one of my heroes,” Rumie said, nodding slowly. “But you know what? So are you. Everyone says you’re an awesome climber. You’re a woman, and you’re small, but you don’t let that stop you.”

  “You’re a woman, and you’re small, too,” Junko pointed out.

  Rumie laughed. “True. Okay, so we’re both heroes. Now, what are you doing on Saturday? Whatever it is, clear your calendar, because I have the best climbing route planned on Mount Tanigawa…”

  * * *

  “Why can’t you come home this weekend? Everyone will be here to celebrate your aunt’s birthday except for you,” Kiyo chided Junko over the phone some time later.

  “I promised my friend Rumie I’d go climbing with her. We already bought our train tickets,” Junko replied. Even though she hated disappointing her family, she wasn’t about to give up a climbing trip to Mount Tanigawa. Sure, she and Rumie had made that trip almost every weekend since they’d met—but that didn’t count, since each trip involved a different part of the mountain and a different route.

  “You’re not doing anything risky, are you? You girls are just going on a nice, gentle hike up one of those easy trails with the pretty views?” Kiyo asked worriedly.

  “Of course!” Junko lied. Kiyo would be upset if she knew the kinds of mountains she and Rumie climbed or realized they no longer went on nice, gentle hikes but up steep rock faces. Climbers could die, especially on a difficult, dangerous mountain like Mount Tanigawa.

  “Well…all right. But I would like to see you soon. I was thinking of taking the train to Tokyo next weekend to visit you.”

  Next weekend. Junko and Rumie already had another climbing adventure planned. But her mother might not be so understanding about two mountaineering trips in a row. Junko’s family had no idea that almost all her free time was taken up by climbing these days. She didn’t want to change her plans.