Junko Tabei Masters the Mountains Read online

  “Oh, wow, sorry! I’m, um…There’s an important conference at the university, and they need me to work. Maybe next month?”

  “Another conference? You’re working much too hard. How will you ever find a husband when you’re working all the time?” Kiyo still hadn’t given up on the idea of a husband for Junko, preferably an arranged-marriage husband. “And speaking of husbands…Mrs. Morimoto and I were talking the other day. Her son Hiroshi is your age, and he’s an accountant. And he’s single! We thought the two of you might like each other!”

  “Oops, there’s someone at the door. I have to go!” Junko fibbed.

  “Jun-chan!”

  “I’ll call you again soon, bye! I love you!”

  Junko hung up, suddenly feeling guilty and anxious. She didn’t like deceiving her mother. And Kiyo wasn’t wrong to worry about the risks of climbing.

  But along with the guilt and anxiety, Junko felt a sense of exhilaration. She thought about her trip to Mount Tanigawa this coming weekend with Rumie. Mountaineering was her passion, and she wasn’t about to stop because of her mother’s (or anyone else’s) old-fashioned attitudes about what women should or shouldn’t do.

  She thought about Mr. Watanabe’s words to her during that long-ago field trip.

  Ganbatte. Do your best.

  I’m going to continue doing my best, mountain after mountain, she promised him silently.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “See him?” Rumie said to Junko in a low voice.

  Junko glanced at the handsome young guy walking down the train platform. Black bangs peeked out from under a red cap. He wore blue hiking pants, red boots, and a bright-blue jacket. A big brown backpack was slung across his back.

  “That’s Masanobu Tabei,” Rumie continued. “He’s like a celebrity in the climbing world. The train conductors always save seats for him and his friends way in the front.”

  “Because… ?”

  “Because then, when the train arrives at the mountain, they can get off first and beat everyone else to the trailhead.”

  “Wow,” Junko said, impressed. It was a general rule in mountaineering that at the start of any chosen route, one climbing party went up at time, while others waited to go up a little later to avoid overcrowding. Being the first party meant that you had a quiet, unspoiled climb all to yourselves, at least until others caught up with you.

  “What club does he belong to?” she asked Rumie.

  “The Honda Climbing Club.”

  “Have you ever met him?”

  “What? No! I’d be too nervous to talk to him!”

  “Really?”

  Junko couldn’t imagine Rumie being nervous about talking to anyone; she was always so bubbly and outgoing.

  Their train finally reached Mount Tanigawa. For that day’s climb, Junko and Rumie had chosen a route they’d never taken before: the South Ridge of the Ichinokura-sawa area. By coincidence, it turned out that Masanobu and his friends had chosen that one, too.

  Of course, Masanobu’s party had a major head start over Junko and Rumie, thanks to the train conductor. As the two women climbed a particularly difficult rock face, Junko focused on the tasks at hand: place the anchor, tie the rope, repeat. She never took safety for granted. She knew that one little slip could mean the difference between life and death.

  Still, once in a while, she caught sight of Masanobu up above, and she paused to watch him climb. She noticed that he ascended steep rock faces at the same steady pace that he walked on flat trails. He seemed so confident, so sure of himself. I’ll climb like that, too, someday, Junko thought.

  Hours into their climb, Junko spotted Masanobu taking a break in a snowy clearing. Even after years of mountaineering, she was still always amazed by the sight of snow in May. Masanobu sat alone on a big boulder, busy with a task. Was he tying a rope? Examining an anchor?

  No, she realized as she got closer. He was making dessert out of canned sweet adzuki beans and fresh snow. Junko almost laughed in surprise.

  Masanobu glanced up at the exact same moment. Oh, great, he caught me staring at him, Junko thought, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

  He waved to Junko. “Hello! Would you like some?”

  The famous Masanobu Tabei was inviting her to have a snack with him.

  What should I do?

  Rumie had been crouched down on the ground, tying and retying her hiking boots. Now, as she stood up, her gaze bounced between Junko and Masanobu.

  She grinned and elbowed Junko. “I’ll just be over there, putting on more sunscreen,” she whispered, nodding to a boulder on the other side of the clearing. “Go talk to him!”

  “You already put on sunscreen. You have to come with me!” Junko whispered back.

  “I think he wants to talk to you alone. ’Kay, bye!”

  “Rumie!”

  Junko wasn’t used to spending time with men she didn’t know. But she couldn’t be rude, could she? Courage, she told herself. If I can climb Mount Tanigawa, I can have a five-minute conversation with a cute guy.

  She took a deep breath and walked over to Masanobu. He was even more handsome up close. She sat down and nervously twisted her gloved hands in her lap.

  “We’ve never met. I’m Masanobu Tabei,” he said.

  “Hi! I’m Junko Ishibashi.”

  “I was watching you earlier. You’re a very skilled climber.”

  That was huge praise, coming from him. He didn’t even add for a woman, which was doubly huge. “Thank you! I’ve heard you’re a rock star in the climbing world,” she said.

  “I’m not a rock star—I just enjoy rocks.”

  Junko laughed. The legendary Masanobu Tabei was funny and modest.

  He handed her a tin cup full of snow and adzuki beans. “Here you go. It’s sort of an instant snow cone. As you can see, I’m an excellent cook!” he joked.

  “You’re not a typical Japanese man, then.”

  “No, I’m not. Actually, I like cooking. For real. I make killer gyoza, and my miso soup isn’t bad, either.”

  “I could go for some dumplings and miso soup right now. It’s freezing up here!”

  “This snow cone is probably not the right thing to serve you, then. Sorry.”

  Junko held the tin cup carefully and brought it up to her lips. It was difficult to hold it with her padded cold-weather hiking gloves, but she didn’t want to remove them, either.

  She took a bite. “It’s really yummy. Thank you for sharing it with me!”

  “Sure, any time.”

  Junko smiled as she continued eating the snow cone. She’d made a new friend. With a guy. With a famous guy, at least in the climbing world, which was the only world that really mattered to her.

  That wasn’t so hard, she thought.

  From across the clearing, she saw Rumie giving her a double thumbs-up through her thick hiking gloves.

  * * *

  After that day, Junko and Masanobu ran into each other more and more—on mountains, on trains, on buses, even on the busy streets of Tokyo. It was as though the universe was trying to bring them together.

  Since they belonged to different clubs, they never climbed together. Another general rule in mountaineering was that you should only climb with members of your own club; in fact, Rumie had quit her club and joined the Ryoho Climbing Club so that she and Junko could climb as a pair without getting into trouble.

  Still, one day, Masanobu said to Junko: “The south face of Tanigawa is really nice in the fall. Lots of colorful leaves…We should climb it together to see.”

  Junko couldn’t say yes fast enough. She really liked Masanobu!

  * * *

  Two years later, on the day of their wedding, Junko Ishibashi became Junko Tabei. It was Japanese law for a woman to take her husband’s name.

  “You may be Junko Tabei now, but I don’t want you to be some sort of traditional Japanese housewife,” Masanobu told her on their honeymoon. “I want you to keep climbing higher and higher mountains, and I want
to help you do that.”

  Junko knew she had found the perfect partner for her.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  In September of 1967, Junko and Masanobu were in Miharu to honor the seventh anniversary of her father’s passing. She’d skipped a weekend climbing trip with Rumie to be with her family.

  “I’ll go with Yamazaki and Yoshimura, then. They said they’re free,” Rumie had told her.

  “But you hardly know them, and that’s a dangerous ascent,” Junko had pointed out. “Why don’t you wait till I get back, and we can go next weekend instead?”

  “Seriously, I’ll be fine!”

  A few days later, Junko received a telegram from Rumie’s mother that said, “Rumie is missing on Mount Tanigawa. Come as soon as possible.”

  Dread spread through Junko’s body.

  No, no, no. Please let my best friend be safe! she prayed.

  She and Masanobu wasted no time. They changed into their climbing clothes, packed their ropes and anchors and other gear, and caught the first train to Mount Tanigawa. They also contacted as many climbing friends as possible to help find Rumie.

  By the time Junko and Masanobu reached Mount Tanigawa, the search and rescue effort was already underway, led by Yoko-o and the rest of the Ryoho Climbing Club. Rumie’s mother was inside a building at the base, waiting for news.

  “You go join the others. I’ll stay here with her mom,” Junko told Masanobu.

  He nodded wordlessly and rushed off with his backpack. Junko put her arm around Rumie’s mother, who was pale and shaking.

  “What if they don’t find her? Or what if they find her and she’s already dead?”

  “Rumie’s a great climber. She’s probably just camping somewhere,” Junko reassured her friend’s mother.

  “I hope you’re right!”

  But six hours later, the news came back that Yoko-o had found Rumie. She hadn’t survived.

  Masanobu explained what happened. “Rumie, Yamazaki, and Yoshimura were descending from the summit when Yamazaki lost her footing on a slippery rock face and started to fall,” he said, his voice heavy. “Rumie reached over to try to catch her, but in the process, she lost her footing and started to fall, too. By some miracle, Yamazaki’s backpack strap caught on a tree branch and broke her fall. But our poor Rumie wasn’t so lucky.”

  Junko couldn’t believe it. Her best friend—her sweet, bubbly, unstoppable best friend—was gone.

  * * *

  Rumie’s death left a hole in Junko’s life. For a long time, she couldn’t bring herself to climb a mountain, any mountain. But she eventually started climbing again, in honor of her best friend’s memory. She joined up with a group of female climbers and formed an all-women’s club, the Ladies Climbing Club. With them, Junko climbed her first overseas mountain, Annapurna III, which is in the Himalayas in Asia.

  Then, in 1970, they came up with a spectacular new plan. Junko told Masanobu about it over dinner in their one-room apartment, which was furnished with a few futons, an old desk, and some other pieces of beat-up furniture. It was not a palace, but it was home, and the two of them were happy there.

  “The Ladies Climbing Club is planning to climb Mount Everest,” Junko announced.

  Masanobu gasped, almost spitting out his ramen noodles. “That’s incredible! Wow, congratulations! You’ll be the first women ever to ascend the highest mountain in the world!”

  “That is, if we succeed, of course. But we need to talk about it first, Masanobu, because we’ll have to give up a lot. I’ll be training and preparing for at least a year. It’s going to cost a fortune, too, so each club member has to raise money plus contribute their own, and you and I aren’t exactly rich. There’s tons of paperwork to fill out to get permission from the government of Nepal. And if our application is approved, I’ll be gone for at least six months…or forever, if something happens…”

  Junko’s words trailed off as she thought about Rumie.

  Masanobu held Junko’s hands in his own. “Nothing’s going to happen. You’re the best climber I know.”

  “Stop,” Junko said, blushing.

  “Seriously. You’re ready for this. It’s what you were meant to do.”

  “Do you think so?”

  “I do. I have only one request.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Could we have a baby first, before you leave, so I’ll have someone to keep me company?”

  A baby. Junko loved the idea of starting a family. Still, how would she be able to take care of a child—or children—and continue climbing mountains? It wasn’t just weekend train rides to Mount Tanigawa anymore. Her excursions with the Ladies Climbing Club took up weeks, sometimes months. And Mount Everest would be the most time-consuming, demanding, and dangerous trip of her life.

  As though reading her mind, Masanobu said: “It’s okay. Remember, I’m not a typical Japanese man. I’d be happy to stay home and take care of our little family while you go off on your adventures.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  In 1969, Masanobu had lost several toes to frostbite while climbing in the Italian and Swiss Alps with friends. Junko knew this had slowed him down a bit, but not entirely. She understood that his offer to let her go to Mount Everest came from his love for her and from his generous spirit.

  Junko hugged him. “Okay. A baby, then Everest. No big deal, right?”

  “It will be a piece of cake,” Masanobu said with a wink.

  They both laughed.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “Did you pack your ropes?” Masanobu asked Junko. It was almost time to leave for the airport.

  “Yes.”

  “Dehydrated miso and soy sauce?”

  “Got it.”

  “Toilet paper?”

  “Affirmative.”

  “What about extra gloves? You know you’ll need a lot of extra gloves, don’t you?”

  “Did I tell you that the women and I made gloves out of car covers? Do we know how to save money, or what?”

  Masanobu smiled, but he looked tired. In the past few months, he’d spent many late nights taking care of their daughter, Noriko, who was almost three, while working at his day job at the Honda Motor Company. They lived in a house now, in the countryside just outside of Tokyo.

  Noriko was taking a nap in the next room. Junko’s heart felt heavy at the thought of having to leave her.

  “I’m going to miss her birthday. I’m an awful mother!”

  “You’re a wonderful mother. Plus, we had an early birthday party for her, remember?”

  Masanobu wrapped his arms around her. “Don’t worry about us. We’ll be fine,” he said. “Focus on yourself and your team. Complete your mission with all your heart.”

  “Thank you,” Junko whispered back. She’d been trying not to cry, but now tears spilled down her face.

  “Why are you crying?”

  “I’m happy, but I’m also sad. I don’t want to leave you two—and you’re the most wonderful husband in the world.”

  Masanobu held her tighter.

  Junko finally forced herself to say goodbye and left for the airport. One foot in front of the other, she thought.

  On the plane, Junko felt emotionally exhausted. She thought about the epic journey ahead—Calcutta, then Kathmandu, then the base of Everest, then Everest itself, which would involve many complicated maneuvers in brutally cold weather with no guarantee of safety or success. She also thought about Noriko and Masanobu. Would they be okay without her? Would she be okay without them?

  She gazed out at the clouds outside the tiny, round airplane window.

  Complete your mission with all your heart.

  She repeated Masanobu’s words to herself over and over.

  * * *

  By May 4, 1975, Junko and her group had been on Mount Everest for a month and a half. The fourteen members of the Ladies Climbing Club hadn’t undertaken the journey alone. At various points on their travels to—and up—Mount Everest, they’d
been accompanied by porters, support climbers, and a television crew of four reporters and three cameramen. The first all-female expedition on Mount Everest was big news. And it would be even bigger news if they succeeded.

  Many of the porters and support climbers were Sherpa people. The Sherpas were members of an ethnic tribe that lived in the region, and they were known for their mountaineering skills.

  Junko thought about Masanobu and Noriko every hour of every day, especially when she was struggling to climb a particularly icy cliff or staring down into an endless empty space between two massive rock walls.

  Complete your mission with all your heart.

  At this point, she just wanted to complete her mission alive and go home to her family. She’d already missed Noriko’s third birthday, although she had managed to draw a picture of a birthday cake on the back of a blank postcard and mail it from the Himalayas.

  Junko was almost there. On May 4, the group was a week away from the summit. Just seven more days, and we’ll achieve our goal, Junko thought as they pitched their tents for the night. There had been a mix-up, and her tent was missing a sleeping bag. So she and another woman were forced to share one. Only their legs fit inside, so they wrapped their down coats around the top halves of their bodies for warmth.

  Cramped and cold, but tired from the day’s climb, Junko surrendered to the icy silence of the night and fell asleep instantly.

  * * *

  Junko awoke to a strange vibration. Was the ground beneath them trembling? Before she knew what was happening, there was a very loud noise—WHAM!—as several tons of snow and ice hit their camp. It was an avalanche.

  Pressure fell against Junko’s body. The tent began rolling helplessly with her and her tent mate still inside. Junko was tossed upside down, then right side up, then upside down again. Her brain was spinning, and she could hardly breathe. Was she about to die? Or was she already dead?