Fuji

A perfect cone of volcanic rock, 3,776 metres above the Pacific, the highest mountain in Japan and the cultural object that has shaped Japanese aesthetics for a thousand years. Mount Fuji is not the tallest mountain in this Atlas, nor the most technical. What it is — and what no other mountain on this list can claim — is the most painted, most photographed, most written-about peak on Earth.

The mountain is sacred. It has been climbed for spiritual reasons since at least the 7th century, when ascetic monks made pilgrimage to the summit as a form of devotion. The first recorded ascent attributed to a foreigner came in 1860, by the British diplomat Sir Rutherford Alcock. The first ascent by a woman — in defiance of a ban that had stood for centuries — was Lady Fanny Parkes in 1867, disguised in men's clothing. The ban was lifted in 1872.

Today the mountain is climbed by 300,000 people each year during the official season from July to early September. Four routes ascend from the fifth station — Yoshida, Subashiri, Gotemba, Fujinomiya — each with mountain huts spaced for an overnight stop. The standard practice is to climb through the night and reach the summit at dawn for goraikō, the arrival of the sun. From the crater rim, the curvature of the Pacific is visible. On rare clear mornings, the shadow of Fuji projects west across the Sea of Japan.

The mountain is a stratovolcano. It last erupted in 1707. The summit crater is 500 metres wide and 250 metres deep. What Fuji teaches is restraint. The climb is not difficult. The climb is a discipline. Move slowly. Carry only what is needed. Honour the mountain by leaving no trace of having been there. Shokunin — the craftsman's word, untranslatable — is the closest description of what the mountain asks of the climber.