I’m glad that Tao and Mr. Yamagishi seem to have become friends.
Somehow, it feels like a weight has finally been lifted off my shoulders.
Yesterday, I had a little chat with Tao, and it seems he had been at Mizugaki and had a party with Naomasa Yamagishi.
Knowing this, I felt a complex mix of emotions—some relief, as if a burden had been lifted, and maybe a little envy.
Let me write about this.
To be honest, I was happy that Tao met Mr. Yamagishi.
I think Japan’s crack climbing resources are quite precious in Asia. I realized this when I went to Laos and discovered the joy of limestone climbing in Thakhek.
However, climbing limestone in Japan is very tough. For me, limestone climbing is not really an option in Japan.
When I went to Seijin Rock while living in Yamanashi, I couldn’t handle even a 5.8.
That’s because limestone is basically power climbing. It doesn’t suit someone like me who climbs with balance. Of course, easy areas like those in Laos, which anyone can enjoy, are a different story.
In Japan, I figured that I can safely step up with crack climbing. The reason is that I bring my own protection.
Even in ice climbing, as long as I climb with my own protection, I can do so almost without fear.
With cracks, if it’s scary, I can just add more protection. So, for a growth strategy within Japan, it’s cracks.
But here in Fukuoka, even approaching the climbing culture itself is dangerous…
First, people who only go to bouldering gyms can be aggressive. They are exclusive and deliberately hostile toward outdoor climbers.
Second, there’s the “take me with you” demand. Teaching climbing requires two experienced climbers per beginner.
You might ask how I was, but I had understood the importance of belaying from the start, so from the seniors’ point of view, if a junior is trustworthy for belaying, another supervising person isn’t necessary. I belay even when a senior grabs loose rock and falls. Well, that’s natural.
In Fukuoka, however, people without the proper belaying skills still ask me, “Take me with you ♥,” and that alone sends shivers down my spine. It feels like they’re saying, “Put your life on the line for my fun.”
This isn’t an unfounded judgment. I’ve fallen and had to get seven stitches in my head. So it’s a reasonable concern.
Even veterans sometimes recommend risky lower crux problems, showing poor risk perception, so the veteran isn’t really a veteran.
There’s no way to avoid these situatioMr.IW from Sōhyō, who was Mr. Yamagishi’s senior.
I once met Mr. and Mrs. Yamagishi at Mizugaki. I was climbing with IW, but at that time my crack skills were still poor, and I couldn’t lead, so I specialized in following.
I knew of Mr. Yamagishi through his books and had referenced works like the Alpine Necklace.
I wanted to build core strength by doing some wide cracks before moving on to harder grades. Once I could climb a 5.9 hand crack, I planned to do wide cracks. (Later, I realized that alpine wide cracks and Mizugaki wide cracks are somewhat different.)
When I said I planned to do wide cracks, alpine climbers usually ran away. This is because alpine “wide cracks” are about a meter wide, with no protection, and you must never fall. But in Mizugaki, “wide cracks” mean off-widths, where your body is wedged and you shimmy inside, staying close to the rock. Your clothes might tear, though.
I had just learned the technique for stacking with chicken wings.
Because of this, I find myself slightly different from both alpine and free climbers, so I can’t find companions. In Kyushu, it’s either ultra-runout granite slabs or freed aid routes like Hyūga Kami—risky for someone short like me to climb safely.
However, I found crack climbing friends overseas. That was in Taiwan, right after a flashback from the chalk slab trauma.
In Taiwan, I climbed multi-pitch with Tao. Tao was Thai but culturally American, which fit with my own experience living in the U.S.—very SF-like.
I climbed with a Canadian family guy named David in Laos, so it ended up being three of us. It was very fun.
Once, it was safe and reassuring climbing.
When I looked uneasy, he said, “I won’t fall.” Yes, he’s big, so if he fell while belayed by me, I’d be the one flying and getting injured.
That kind of understanding is very climber-like and reassuring.
Japanese climbers, if I look uneasy, respond in one of three ways:
A) “What, scared?”
B) Anger
C) “I’m taking you there, what’s your problem?”
None of these prioritize safety—they all come from ego.
I understand pride exists—I’m proud of my own route-reading skills built over three years—but ignoring the difference in physical ability between men and women is dangerous.
Even with skill and self-responsibility, a partner without basic multi-pitch knowledge can kill you. I learned this on the chalk slab.
I couldn’t believe someone could climb for 10 years without learning basic rope management. I think Kofu’s Mr. Yabana instructed him but didn’t teach it. I only knew the name.
So in my mind, Kyushu = bad climbing, outdated mama climbing; Tao in Taiwan = modern climbing. I wanted to introduce him to Japanese good climbing.
I repeatedly encouraged Tao to visit Japan, especially Mizugaki, but he resisted due to preconceived notions about car rental costs.
If I were in Kōfu, I could drive him, but from Fukuoka, it costs about 60,000 yen by gas and highway. A 30,000 yen plane ticket to Taiwan makes more sense for a Japanese person.
So I couldn’t play guide for Tao, which was disappointing.
These are the people I grew with as climbing companions.
Partner Araki was different in my culture, but I often felt sad when he didn’t have a master to learn from, while I did. I wanted to share anything I learned, but…
For example, if I pointed out wrong cam placement, he’d get angry, “Why are you saying that?” So all the knowledge and proper climbing methods I received didn’t reach him. If someone doesn’t know belay from an anchor is wrong, they won’t notice it.
While in Fukuoka, I met Toshizo twice, but when I suggested he join, no guys showed up. He’s a climber who climbed with Sato,PioledOrWinner, so he would have been valuable advice.
Even when Mr. Inoue from JFA came, I invited him to expand connections, but he didn’t come. Same with Mr. Okumura’s belay clinic.
For some reason, my partners and other guys avoid the great climbers I try to connect with. This was also the case in Kofu.
This felt like when I climbed with my mentor in Nagano… but that was my “big sister” impulse—a misdirected gift.
Still, I was heartened that Tao and Mr. Yamagishi connected. It felt like saying, “See, Japan’s crack climbing is great!” Despite Tao being reluctant at first, he came twice.
I found a cheap Mizugaki house and thought of running a place where proper climbers could experience Mizugaki climbing inexpensively, but an unsuitable intermediary got involved, and my plan stalled.
The Mizugaki house was almost realized…
It’s unfortunate, but my passion for climbing has always been part of my life’s leisure. Without my own margin, I can’t do anything.
Climbing as a secure base is no longer possible in Kyushu. There are few mountains worth visiting or exciting enough to motivate me. Mountain-related activities are ending.
I also think that my partner chooses climbing companions mainly to connect with popular locals. He wants to belong and secure his position in the community. Contrary I want to climb with safe people.
And truly safe climbers are a tiny minority, especially west of Kansai.
The reason seems to be a need of strong admiration for—and resentment of—Tokyo. Jealousy of the Tokyo crowd turns into opposition, reflected even in routes.
