Seeing sunrise from high on a mountain feels so special that the Japanese have a specific word for it, goraiko. You’d think it was the heavenly view, the sensation of standing on top of the world, but for me what made the “coming of the light” sublime was the joy of earning the moment step-by-step with my son.
Angst and disbelief had brought us to Mount Fuji, about 60 miles west of Tokyo. Hunter turns 18 next month; university beckons. Like many parents I’m dreading my firstborn flying the nest. Still, his wings are ready and fly he must. But first, I decided, we needed to create one last childhood memory. And for that, we needed a summer challenge.
In a humid 30 degrees,
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