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In Japan, Fear and Panic as a Revered Peak Explodes In Japan, Fear and Panic as a Revered Peak Explodes
(about 5 hours later)
OTAKI, Japan — Gaku Harada remembers it as a perfect day for hiking. A clear blue sky drew hundreds of weekend climbers to Mount Ontake, one of Japan’s most celebrated peaks, to see the first tints of autumn in the leaves.OTAKI, Japan — Gaku Harada remembers it as a perfect day for hiking. A clear blue sky drew hundreds of weekend climbers to Mount Ontake, one of Japan’s most celebrated peaks, to see the first tints of autumn in the leaves.
Then, without warning, the top of the mountain exploded.Then, without warning, the top of the mountain exploded.
Mr. Harada, a professional climbing guide, was leading a local television crew up the mountain to film a nature show. One moment, the peak was clearly visible about a mile in front of them. The next, it vanished into a dark, billowing cloud as a thundering wall of gray ash raced down the slope toward them.Mr. Harada, a professional climbing guide, was leading a local television crew up the mountain to film a nature show. One moment, the peak was clearly visible about a mile in front of them. The next, it vanished into a dark, billowing cloud as a thundering wall of gray ash raced down the slope toward them.
Unable to process what he was seeing, he said he froze, then snapped out of it when a companion yelled, “Eruption!” Within minutes, his group was engulfed in ash so thick it blotted out the sun and began to fill their mouths. They groped their way down the mountain in the unnatural darkness as the sickening, rotten-egg stench of sulfur filled the air. But it was the sounds, he said, that scared him most: the thunder from the eruption, and the thud of boulders crashing into the slope behind them.Unable to process what he was seeing, he said he froze, then snapped out of it when a companion yelled, “Eruption!” Within minutes, his group was engulfed in ash so thick it blotted out the sun and began to fill their mouths. They groped their way down the mountain in the unnatural darkness as the sickening, rotten-egg stench of sulfur filled the air. But it was the sounds, he said, that scared him most: the thunder from the eruption, and the thud of boulders crashing into the slope behind them.
“I thought it was the end of the world,” said Mr. Harada, 38, who helped lead the group to a lodge on the mountainside. “I had only seen volcanic eruptions in movies and never dreamed I’d experience one in real life.”“I thought it was the end of the world,” said Mr. Harada, 38, who helped lead the group to a lodge on the mountainside. “I had only seen volcanic eruptions in movies and never dreamed I’d experience one in real life.”
Four days after the worst volcanic disaster in its recent history, Japan is still struggling to count the dead — and come to terms with a tragedy that caught both experienced mountaineers and locals who revere the mountain by surprise. While 47 bodies have been found so far, officials remain unsure how high the total could rise because they do not know how many people were on the mountain in central Japan on Saturday, when it erupted in a six-mile-high shower of hot ash, flying rocks and poison gases.Four days after the worst volcanic disaster in its recent history, Japan is still struggling to count the dead — and come to terms with a tragedy that caught both experienced mountaineers and locals who revere the mountain by surprise. While 47 bodies have been found so far, officials remain unsure how high the total could rise because they do not know how many people were on the mountain in central Japan on Saturday, when it erupted in a six-mile-high shower of hot ash, flying rocks and poison gases.
On Wednesday, the levels of those toxic gases dropped low enough to allow rescue efforts to resume after a day’s hiatus. Military helicopters ferried soldiers and rescue workers to the peak to search for survivors and collect the bodies of the dead.On Wednesday, the levels of those toxic gases dropped low enough to allow rescue efforts to resume after a day’s hiatus. Military helicopters ferried soldiers and rescue workers to the peak to search for survivors and collect the bodies of the dead.
At least 230 hikers are known to have survived, many straggling down the mountain hours or even a day after the eruption, dazed and covered with ash. They, and the residents of the tiny villages at the foot of Mount Ontake, are only beginning to come to terms with the unexpected eruption that turned an idyllic alpine peak crowded with weekend adventurers into a moonscape littered with the dead.At least 230 hikers are known to have survived, many straggling down the mountain hours or even a day after the eruption, dazed and covered with ash. They, and the residents of the tiny villages at the foot of Mount Ontake, are only beginning to come to terms with the unexpected eruption that turned an idyllic alpine peak crowded with weekend adventurers into a moonscape littered with the dead.
“Mount Ontake has always been a reassuringly protective presence for us,” said Katsunori Morimoto, 51, an official here in Otaki, a hamlet of 865 residents whose wooden homes and tidy rice paddies nestle in an emerald valley at the foot of the mountain. “Never in our wildest dreams did we think it could kill.”“Mount Ontake has always been a reassuringly protective presence for us,” said Katsunori Morimoto, 51, an official here in Otaki, a hamlet of 865 residents whose wooden homes and tidy rice paddies nestle in an emerald valley at the foot of the mountain. “Never in our wildest dreams did we think it could kill.”
Mr. Morimoto and other villagers said the mountain, which looms above Otaki, has long been a source of spiritual strength as well as economic sustenance for the village. Mount Ontake, whose name means “august peak,” has been revered since the eighth century as a sacred dwelling site of gods in Japan’s native Shinto religion, and it is still visited by pilgrims wearing white tunics and straw hats. Many pilgrims stay in Otaki’s inns, which also cater to the 65,000 hikers who pass through the village every year. Mr. Morimoto and other villagers said the mountain, which looms above Otaki, has long been a source of spiritual strength as well as economic sustenance for the village. Mount Ontake, whose name means “august peak,” has been revered since the eighth century as a sacred dwelling site of gods in Japan’s native Shinto religion, and it is still visited by pilgrims wearing white clothes and straw hats. Many pilgrims stay in Otaki’s inns, which also cater to the 65,000 hikers who pass through the village every year.
Mr. Morimoto said the last time the mountain had a large eruption was in 1979, but no one died. There was also a smaller one in 1991. The latest eruption has turned the sleepy village into a military camp. Hundreds of soldiers with trucks and helicopters are using Otaki as their base for retrieving bodies from the mountain, whose still smoldering peak offers a constant reminder of the recent tragedy.Mr. Morimoto said the last time the mountain had a large eruption was in 1979, but no one died. There was also a smaller one in 1991. The latest eruption has turned the sleepy village into a military camp. Hundreds of soldiers with trucks and helicopters are using Otaki as their base for retrieving bodies from the mountain, whose still smoldering peak offers a constant reminder of the recent tragedy.
Most of those who died were found near the top of the 10,062-foot mountain, buried in a foot or more of ash that blanketed the ground like snow, their arms still protectively clasped about their heads. Early autopsies show that many died from being struck by falling rocks, or from suffocating as they breathed in searing hot ash.Most of those who died were found near the top of the 10,062-foot mountain, buried in a foot or more of ash that blanketed the ground like snow, their arms still protectively clasped about their heads. Early autopsies show that many died from being struck by falling rocks, or from suffocating as they breathed in searing hot ash.
Among the dead was Kotomi Ito, an energetic 18-year-old high school student who ran to the summit ahead of her father, who survived. Yusuke Asai, 23, an avid climber who posted a photo of himself near the peak two hours before the eruption, also died, as did Naoki Masuda, 41, a sports-loving salaryman who served as a torch bearer in the 1998 Winter Olympics in Nagano. His last known words, spoken in a desperate call to his mother, were: “There are rocks falling on me. I’m in trouble.”Among the dead was Kotomi Ito, an energetic 18-year-old high school student who ran to the summit ahead of her father, who survived. Yusuke Asai, 23, an avid climber who posted a photo of himself near the peak two hours before the eruption, also died, as did Naoki Masuda, 41, a sports-loving salaryman who served as a torch bearer in the 1998 Winter Olympics in Nagano. His last known words, spoken in a desperate call to his mother, were: “There are rocks falling on me. I’m in trouble.”
Survivors came back with tales of fear and bewilderment, but also of courage and heroism.Survivors came back with tales of fear and bewilderment, but also of courage and heroism.
Yuriko Hiramatsu, 41, said she and eight friends had stopped for lunch when she saw the gray cloud surging into the blue sky. A novice hiker, she did not know that was a sign of imminent danger and began snapping photos with her phone.Yuriko Hiramatsu, 41, said she and eight friends had stopped for lunch when she saw the gray cloud surging into the blue sky. A novice hiker, she did not know that was a sign of imminent danger and began snapping photos with her phone.
Then the ash started to fall on her group, followed by a shower of small rocks that stung when they struck. Panicked, the group ran down the mountain until they came to one of several “yamagoya,” bare-bones lodges on the mountain’s upper reaches where climbers can spend the night.Then the ash started to fall on her group, followed by a shower of small rocks that stung when they struck. Panicked, the group ran down the mountain until they came to one of several “yamagoya,” bare-bones lodges on the mountain’s upper reaches where climbers can spend the night.
A worker at the lodge called to them to come in for shelter. Inside, they joined about 40 other refuge-seekers. The lodge workers kept them calm while a hail of rocks pelted the metal roof above their heads, and they handed out surgical masks, which are common in hygiene-conscious Japan.A worker at the lodge called to them to come in for shelter. Inside, they joined about 40 other refuge-seekers. The lodge workers kept them calm while a hail of rocks pelted the metal roof above their heads, and they handed out surgical masks, which are common in hygiene-conscious Japan.
When the eruption seemed to subside, the lodge workers gathered the group and led them down the mountain. Ms. Hiramatsu said she never would have made it alone; the blanket of ash had erased all signs of the trail, and formed a slippery surface that made the descent dangerous. “They didn’t have to, but they led us to safety,” said Ms. Hiramatsu, a clerk in the Otaki village hall.When the eruption seemed to subside, the lodge workers gathered the group and led them down the mountain. Ms. Hiramatsu said she never would have made it alone; the blanket of ash had erased all signs of the trail, and formed a slippery surface that made the descent dangerous. “They didn’t have to, but they led us to safety,” said Ms. Hiramatsu, a clerk in the Otaki village hall.
Down in the village, Fumie Tashiro, 80, said she felt vaguely responsible for the events on a mountain that she feels is like a member of her village. She said the disaster would not stop her from praying to the mountain first thing every morning, as she has done since she was a child.Down in the village, Fumie Tashiro, 80, said she felt vaguely responsible for the events on a mountain that she feels is like a member of her village. She said the disaster would not stop her from praying to the mountain first thing every morning, as she has done since she was a child.
“We grew up revering Mount Ontake, and now it suddenly erupts,” said Ms. Tashiro, as she pushed a wheelbarrow full of freshly harvested rice along a narrow road busy with military vehicles. “Nature can be both majestic and dangerous. We need to live with both faces.”“We grew up revering Mount Ontake, and now it suddenly erupts,” said Ms. Tashiro, as she pushed a wheelbarrow full of freshly harvested rice along a narrow road busy with military vehicles. “Nature can be both majestic and dangerous. We need to live with both faces.”