Honouring High Places: The Mountain Life of Junko Tabei

by Junko Tabei, Helen Y. Rolfe, Yumiko Hiraki (Translator)

A collection of personal stories and reflections based on the memoirs of Junko Tabei, the first woman to climb Mount Everest and the Seven Summits. Honouring High Places is a compelling collection of highlights from Junko Tabei’s stirring life that she considered important, inspiring and interesting to mountaineering culture. Until now, her works have been available only in Japanese, and RMB is honoured to be sharing these profound and moving stories with the English-speaking world for the first time. The collection opens on Mount Everest, where the first all-women’s expedition is met with disaster but pushes on against all odds. The story then shifts to the early years of Tabei’s life and reflects on her countryside childhood as a frail girl with no talent for sport, and cultural expectations that ignored her passion for mountains. With reminiscences of the early days of female climbers on Everest, the deaths of fellow mountaineers, Tabei’s pursuit of Mount Tomur, a cancer diagnosis, and efforts to restore a love for nature in the surviving youth of the Fukushima earthquake and tsunami that hit Japan in 2011, this beautifully curated collection of essays captures the essence of a notable time and the strength of character of one of the 20th and 21st centuries’ female mountaineering pioneers.

Genres: Nonfiction, Travel, Adventure, Japan, Memoir, Biography, Mountaineering

466 pages, Kindle Edition

Published November 7, 2017

Reviews

[Alessandra | Journalinthedirt · Rating 5 out of 5]

Okay guys! This is one of my favorite outdoor books! I also picked this one because of Asian & Pacific Islander Heritage month #APIcelebrasian 🎊 Junko is a badass mountaineer and the first woman who climbed Mt. Everest and the 7 summits! This book was translated from Japanese in 2017, and is an extremely important part of women’s climbing and mountaineering history! She was a part of the first all-women team to summit Everest.
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This is a collection of stories from Junko’s personal journals. So it starts with a harrowing & deadly Everest expedition, and then weaves through important events in her life. She talks about her childhood and upbringing with cultural and gender expectations, not feeling talented athletically, witnessing the death of fellow mountaineers, why she climbs, and her love of the mountains. She combats a cancer diagnosis, and pursues Mount Tomur! She helps restore a love of nature in the youth after the Fukushima earthquake and tsunami that hit Japan in 2011. This is a beautiful and heartfelt account of a woman doing amazing things in the outdoors! She represents all women making waves in big mountain climbing! This collection of essays is unlike anything I’ve ever read and captures the strength of one of the most amazing female mountaineer pioneers!
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Guys... there is only 8 reviews on Goodreads for this!! Whereas books like WILD by Cheryl Strayed has about 40,000! I liked Wild, but this book blows it out of the water! So if you’re an outdoor lover, please read and review this book! It’s amazing!

[Nicky Neko · Rating 5 out of 5]

What an incredible human being. What a fantastic life.

My one quibble was with the translation and editing of the book. Very poor -- lots of errors and unnatural English. That said, it's still readable, and doesn't detract too much from the story.

[Hailey Van Dyk · Rating 5 out of 5]

What’s not to love about a book written by an incredibly inspiring woman who followed her dreams and helped others achieve theirs along the way. Amazing story!

[Mariko Tatsumoto · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a wonderful, inspiring and scary book. It's about the first woman to summit Mt. Everest and climb the highest peaks in each of the 7 continents. I was afraid just reading the accounts of what it took to summit those peaks. Back in 1975, the infrastructures of climbing those mountains were not in place. The climbers actually had to carve out steps in the ice and carry their own ladders. It's a great book. I recommend it.

[Mark Oppenlander · Rating 3 out of 5]

Junko Tabei didn't do well in physical education classes. Short and slight compared to her peers, she was often sick as a child. In her memoirs, she admits that her diminutive height (five feet) and her early lack of athleticism played some part in her becoming a world class mountaineer. When she became the first woman to summit Mount Everest, and the first to complete the Seven Summits, she wanted those who remembered her from childhood to think, "How did little Junko do that?"

This book collects previous writings of Tabei, along with new material, to create a tale that stretches back to her childhood. Helen Rolfe, a professional writer, was tasked with editing and compiling Tabei's thoughts, in translations by Yumiko Haraki and Rieko Holtved. In her memoirs, Tabei discusses her first field trip to the mountains near her hometown, her adolescence and young adulthood when she fell in love with high places and made friends with other mountaineers (including her husband), and then her adult adventures, which include breaking gender barriers, and setting alpine records.

Much of the book's length is spent on the ascent of several key peaks in her life, including Annapurna, Everest, Aconcagua, etc. Tabei's recollections of these expeditions are crisp, with clear details on challenges faced and overcome, the interpersonal dynamics of the climbing team, and even her own feelings at the time. Unsurprisingly, Everest takes up the most space. There are many doubts about an all female team completing the climb, and Tabei is, in many ways, an unlikely hero; she is not the most athletic climber and she is not even the official leader of the team. When the team faces an avalanche at an advanced camp, it seems that the summit attempt may have to be set aside due to dwindling supplies and injuries. Tabei and her teammates decide to regroup and forge ahead however, relying on their training and the expertise of their Sherpas to complete the task. Tabei's descriptions of these events is very matter of fact, practical, and to the point. She feels like a reliable guide who points out the path to our feet, step by step throughout this tale. I found her likable, not the least for her combination of confidence, drive, and humility.

Later in life, after her phenomenal climbing success had made her a world renowned female icon and a folk hero in her home country, Tabei became a public figure. She served as a spokesperson for charitable causes in her native Japan, and as a good will ambassador for hiking, climbing, and other outdoor activities. When she is well into her 70's and ill with cancer, she was still leading groups on Mount Fuji, even when she could not complete the summit herself. Everything about this book makes her seem like a fascinating, warm, and engaging human being who lived a fascinating life of remarkable accomplishment.

If I have any complaint about this book, it's probably that we don't get enough into the mind or philosophy of the author. The title suggests that Tabei had an almost mystical or religious connection to the mountains she loved. There are hints of that in the text, but no lengthier meditations on what the mountains meant to her, or where she saw the Divine in all of this. I think she may have had such thoughts, but if so, she has largely kept them to herself. I think such explorations would have added another lovely layer of meaning and magic to this already incredible story.

Nonetheless, this book provides an exhilarating first-person account of a remarkable accomplishment. For those who love the outdoors, mountains, amazing accomplishments and the people who do them, this book will prove sufficiently rewarding.

[Lisa Wynne · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book is a wonderful compilation of legendary mountaineer Junko Tabei’s own writing, translated from Japanese into English for the first time, with warmly illuminating forewords and afterwords by her family and long-time mountaineering friend, Setsuko Kitamura. Unfortunately, it is noted in the introduction that Tabei passed away during the work on this book, so the family eulogies are particularly poignant and sad. I got the impression that these perspectives were only included because of her death, and sad as they are, these snapshots of Tabei by those who loved her richly compliment her own self-reflective writing in the main body of the book.
The chapters mostly cover Tabei’s writing on her big international expeditions, but I very much treasure the early chapters about her childhood in Fukushima and her formative university years climbing in the Kita-Alps. Her later career and immense advocacy work, in Japan and internationally, is also covered. Tabei recounts her expeditions frankly, reflecting on interpersonal challenges and practical details, without forgetting to impart the sublime and wondrous aspects of such environments and experiences.
This book has instantly become a treasure on my shelf, but I was disappointed by the translation (or perhaps the editing?). I am not a professional so I don’t want to pretend to analyse it, but I was often distracted by unnatural or awkward phrasing and expressions.

[Kalvin · Rating 3 out of 5]

Some interesting stories on high altitude climbing, but felt very surface level overall. Offers a few insights into how Junko Tabei thought about conflict in expedition teams, but doesn't dive into any proper strategies or methods for general use. Likely didn't benefit from a rather cold toned translation.

[Gracie Gramelspacher · Rating 5 out of 5]

Beautiful book that empowers women and especially in the outdoor space. Junko Tabei is so inspiring!

[Whitney · Rating 5 out of 5]

What a wonderful book. Everything I like in one... Japanese culture, girl power, mountains, relationship goals, and teachings of willpower. What an amazing lady Tabei-san is. Totally inspired ☺️

[Totochelamouche · Rating 3 out of 5]

The first woman to climb Mount Everest came from an interesting time in Japan, the Meiji era (1868-1912), when the Japanese people were introduced to the idea of mountaineering for sport, of enjoying mountaineering in and of itself.

Eventually, in the Taisho era (1912-1926), women of the intellectual class began to join in this European-style play.

It was probably due to her compassionate personality that Japanese society adopted Junko Tabei as a "star of the mountaineering community" and "role model for Japanese women," which certainly reflected the era's shifting values from submissive women to active ones. At the same time, while welcoming "women full of energy," Japanese society was not ready to accept radical feminists as it was still attached to traditional women figures: good wives, perfect mothers and modest behaviour.

"[...] In the first place, you don't want to make a false claim as 'housewife' while you make money from mountaineering and presenting speeches, et cetera. You are an authentic professional. You do pay taxes, right?"
My opinion might have had some effect on her, or she herself naturally came to realize her social role as an established commentator in the mountaineering community, because I noticed that in later years when we went on mountain trips together, she started to write "mountaineer" in the "occupation" blanks of hotel check-in forms.

From the era of Showa to Heisei (1926-present), from the twentieth to twenty-first century, in the period when Japanese women finally gained small wings, a woman less than 153 centimetres in height flapped her wings big time and became an important figure in mountaineering history.

In May 1995 Alison Hargreaves took on the North Face of Everest, the route pioneered by George Mallory and his companions in the 1920s. Hargreaves insisted on carrying all her own gear, pitching her own tent and surviving without the aid of supplementary oxygen.

Instinct told me I needed a knife. I reached for the cord around my neck and yanked at the hidden tool with my right hand but I was unable to free it, my arm rendered useless. With urgency, I bit at the knife with my teeth and pulled the blade from its sheath.

Then send the mail runners to Camp 3, Camp 1 and Base Camp right away. Look for a note pad to write on. We can't wait for the regular radio call tomorrow morning.

People in our group were already feeling the effects of altitude. The amount of available oxygen was about half that at valley bottom, and shortness of breath, headache, fatigue and loss of appetite were common complaints.

In 2003, Majima and I, along with two other female friends, also climbed Mount Assiniboine in the Canadian Rockies, with local mountain guides Barry Blanchard and Todd Craig.

Once more, our party of twelve women, including two base-camp managers and hikers who planned to only go as far as the start of the climb, applied for and received the necessary documentation to set foot on Mount Tomur.

After the cleanup, the women Everest climbers regrouped and headed to an onsen resort in Hakone. Our Chinese, Indian and South Korean colleagues chose not to partake in the outside iwa-onsen (rocky hot springs). Likely, their cultural norms led them to feel a bit too exposed, naked in the outdoor pools. Bradey, on the other hand, jumped right in. Before we knew it, Kitamura and I were in stitches, trying to talk the bare Bradey out of bouldering on the rocks that surrounded the pool.

By that time, three women had stood on the summit of Everest: me and Pan Duo in 1975, and Wanda Rutkiewicz from Poland in 1978. [...]
Rutkiewicz led several women-only teams in her climbing career that included routes on the East Pillar of Norway's Trollryggen (1968), the North Pillar of the Eiger (1973) and North Face of the Matterhorn in winter (1978). She was a prominent light for women climbers in a time when men dominated the field. Sadly, she disappeared from the North Face of Kanchenjunga in 1992 during her amazing pursuit of all fourteen 8000-metre peaks, eight of which she summitted, including the first female ascent of K2 in 1986.
Pan Duo was sought after by the Chinese government to be part of the country's first attempt on Everest in 1960. She had a robust build and a successful climbing history that could not be ignored. Nonetheless, she was ordered to remain below 6400 metres on Everest. "Above that elevation is a man's world," she was told. Her frustration was evident.

It was during these celebrations that I heard for the first time that the United Nations had designated 1975 as International Women's Year.

We began our descent at 1:30 p.m., and it became obvious that going down would require far more nerve than climbing up. Humans were not made for this. Climbing, yes; descending, no.

When I was about to change my socks to a dry pair, he took out a thicker pair of his own and suggested I use them. "These are better," he said, "French made."

Ang Tsering stopped me short of trying to grill frozen cheese directly over the flame. "It's not good to burn food in the sacred fire," he said. Although I craved the taste of warm melted cheese, I would never do anything to upset him, for the faith of the Sherpas is one to uphold.

We drank milk tea, coffee, hot chocolate, green tea and hot lemon juice, one after the other until each of us had consumed six cups worth, but felt no difference. Rehydrating was nearly impossible, and my lips were dry before the next batch of snow began to melt.

The daily routine of entering the tent began. We cleaned snow from our packs and stored them inside, sat at the entranceway facing outdoors and removed crampons, tapped overboots together to shake off more snow, secured crampons to the outer tent straps so they stayed put, then peeled boots off and retreated indoors.

Limitations of living at 7600 metres in elevation kicked in. Ang Tsering gave up trying to ignite a temperamental kerosene stove to boil water for soup. Logistics dictated that we only use kerosene stoves at Camp 4, reserving the butane gas for higher up.

Tucked away in our tent, and seeking a distraction from the heavy mood of the camp, Watanabe and I sat wrapped in our sleeping bags to begin the ritual of wiping off the thick layer of sunblock from our faces. We focused on remaining calm, clearing our minds as we cleansed our skin. Late at night, with heads side by side, we each fell asleep inhaling one litre of oxygen per hour from a shared bottle through a two-pronged nasal tube.

That night, as a fresh start was needed, we scrubbed each other's backs with 5-centimetre-square cotton sheets soaked in rubbing alcohol. It had been more than two months since any of us had soaked in a hot bath and the itchiness of dry, sweat-smeared skin was a serious annoyance, even taking into account our noble pursuits.

We climbed without oxygen, which we saved for sleeping, and our packs were notably heavy.

I had visions of my family and friends tucked into a kotatsu, warming their toes, and I longed for the taste of the mandarin oranges they would likely be sharing over relaxed conversation.

Various other side effects from altitude kicked in as well. Some climbers lost their appetite and their faces began to show their newly acquired slimness, whereas others, like me, maintained our exact weight for the entire trip. Several women's menstrual cycles shifted - some did not menstruate at all, others had to endure two weeks of menstruation, and others still struggled with such pain that they could barely move - all symptoms that subsided once off the mountain but experiences we had to manage on Everest nonetheless.

Sunburn was a constant problem. The sunscreen lotion we had was insufficient, and we all developed blistered burns.

The scale of expedition dilemmas varied from minor to serious, and one day, right after Taneya and a few Sherpas had scouted the Khumbu Icefall for the first time, Nasu raised a concern that needed attention. "Isn't it a bit off our goal to do the scouting with Sherpas? Shouldn't we do it all by ourselves since we are a women's party?"

Several of the Sherpas had trained as lamas, or teachers, and were able to lead us in the proper chants for the occasion.

We were unaccustomed to mornings at Base Camp. Instead of the sound of chirping birds, as in the various villages on our approach, silence in the wee hours was encroached upon by the roar of distant avalanches and rockfall.

Sixteen days after we left Kathmandu, and just before arriving at Namche Bazaar, we saw Mount Everest for the first time. There was no sweeter sound than the porters announcing the mountain to us in Nepali: "Memsahib, Sagarmatha; Memsahib, Sagarmatha."

Funny enough, after Everest, I heard Noriko say, "Hey, Mom, is meshi ready yet?" Meshi (meal) is a word used only by men. Clearly, she had been well looked after by her older boy cousins in my absence.

In Japan, families have a special celebration, called 753, for their child's third, fifth and seventh years of life.

Even the cardboard centres (at two grams each) of toilet paper rolls were discarded, and the paper alone was carried in plastic bags that also doubled as cushioning in our packs.

The number of women who had first joined the team dwindled due to a few people's disappointment with the burden of the unexpected desk work. It was obvious they were only interested in the expedition for the Everest name and were unable to commit to all aspects of trip preparation.

We approached major Japanese corporations for donations, but the country was in recession from the 1973 oil crisis, and available funds were limited. It was a period of rampant rumours about jumps in gasoline prices and toilet paper disappearing from store shelves; people lived in fear of running out of basic supplies.

My experience on Annapurna was that strong will, determination and the ability to problem solve in dire situations played a more critical role than physical ability when climbing in the Himalayas. We could help train a person to be a better climber, but we were unable to generate her willpower.

As assistant leader on the Annapurna III team, I wanted to be seen as a good person, one who pleased both leader and team members, a trait that likely originated from my childhood. A social teaching that was deeply rooted in me when I was young was to be a good girl and do no wrong, so no one could accuse me of poor behaviour. This, in addition to the Japanese tendency to not be different from other people, made it difficult to stand by tough choices that were required on the mountain. It was unusual enough to be a female climber in that era of yesteryear, let alone to make a stand in front of your friends that would possibly upset them. Today, young people are encouraged to be unique, but in my day, we were strictly advised that being different was abnormal. Whether one belief is more correct than the other, I cannot comment, but what I do know (and it was the most crucial thing I learned from Annapurna) is that the old way failed me. Behaving as a social butterfly does not work in mountaineering - one must be clear with others; there is no time for mixed messages. Essentially, a person must be able to voice her opinion without worrying about criticism.

When I finally returned home from Annapurna III and reflected on the expedition, there were times I wanted to ignore the dynamics that unfolded amongst team members, to the point of not wanting to see certain people.

Over the years, I had heard many male-only expeditions tolerate unfriendly incidents, like someone having his teeth broken because he was hit by a teammate, a climber stamping his crampon-clad foot on another climber in rage, or loud verbal arguments between leader and team members dispatched over the radio. Yet, when the trip summaries were published, not a word of such stories was written.

The altimeter read just above 7000 metres. We sat on rugged rocks for a break, hoping this would be enough to ease Pasang's pain. A much-anticipated can of peaches was opened for a snack - but it was frozen solid, a cylindrical block of concrete.

Hirakawa injected Miyazaki with anti-nausea medication. We tried to melt snow for water to sooth her distressed complaint of thirst, but given the elevation, the butane-fuelled stoves were diminished in their power output and the melting process took forever. Thankfully the medication kicked in and Miyazaki fell asleep. On the contrary, Hirakawa and I were starving, as usual, and had to satiate our bellies to some degree before we could attempt sleep. Admittedly, we ate Miyazaki's portion of dinner, too, and called it a night.

Of all things, the very next day when I was meant to continue my fight with the blue ice wall, I developed a hemorrhoid from the extensive strain on my body.

It was a relief to arrive back at Camp 4, and our return was noted with a pack of kibi-dango, a sweet snack sent from Yamazaki with a message that said, "Take heart, ladies - high up there - for it's Children's day." We broke into smiles in honour of this national Japanese holiday, and age-old celebration that recognizes and respects the younger generation every May 5.

Miyazaki, whose signature duty at Camp 4 had been to chase the miniature silhouettes of faraway climbers on the ice wall through her binoculars, was suddenly stricken with a severe headache at midnight.

From below, what appeared to be a giant crevasse at the bottom of those final pitches that led to the col was a bergschrund, where mountain meets glacier.

Ladies, don't be disappointed. We're having freeze-dried rice and Knorr soup this evening.

As it does in an environment where food is limited, conversation drifted to the delicacies we missed most. "What do you want to eat now?" someone asked. Tempura and sushi, warm taro potatoes marinated in soya sauce and sugar, yakitori (barbecued chicken shish kebabs), grilled fish with grated daikon, gyoza (Chinese dumplings), ton-katsu (fried pork wrapped in bread crumbs), strawberries, watermelon - the list of desired dishes was endless.

It took the strength of four Sherpas to pull me out, an action that left me unable to walk for a while afterwards since my ankle and hip joints had been completely stretched loose.

It was evident that all the tents, including the Sherpas', would have been completely buried, with no chance for our survival, had we set them up in the same spot as the Spanish team did the previous year.

When people meet me for the first time, they are surprised by my size. They expect me to be bigger than I am, more strapping, robust, like a wrestler for example. As I am the first woman to climb Mount Everest and the Seven Summits, they equate a certain body type to my accomplishments. I grin whenever I am first overlooked then greeted at a train station or a speaking engagement. "Are you really Tabei-san?" they ask. At a height of five feet, and weighing 49 kilograms, I thrown newcomers for a loop. Questions like how do I carry such a heavy pack, or how large is my lung capacity are the usual conversation openers. I was always puzzled by this, by people's obsession with the physical appearance of a mountaineer.

I was born in 1939, in a small town called Miharu, in the Fukushima area. Miharu means "three spring," as in the season, for the three flowers - plum, peach and cherry - that bloom together come springtime.

I performed poorly in physical education classes, too, unable to succeed at a kip or vault until the end of Grade 6.

The girls-only students' dorm at university in Tokyo had an etiquette all its own. Upon entering, we knelt in front of the room and greeted everyone with "Gomen asobase", a very feminine, polite, upper-class way of saying excuse me.

My father sold his farm estates to pay for treatment, and he diligently prayed for her each morning by way of a traditional ice-cold shower with buckets of water from the well.

What surprised me was the lack of interest teachers had in female students attending post-secondary institutions. Information on options was scarce, and it was up to the individual to make it happen.

I chose to play the koto (Japanese harp) in university, and quickly advanced under the guidance of maestro Ms. Ando.

The University of Tokyo is a beautiful location with open space and lots of greenery. It is one of the highest-level government-funded universities in Japan.

Eventually, I even felt at ease sharing a tent with men - it seemed like the natural thing to do in the mountains, but the rumours that resulted bothered me to no end. I had no time for assumptions that so and so were dating because they had climbed together. Still, I had come far in my dreams of the white mountains, and I could endure such gossip if it meant continuing to climb.

As I progressed in climbing, my days at Hakurei became numbered. I was bothered by the club's strict rules and the constant gossip.

We all have encounters in life that either brighten our future or dampen a dream.

[Earl H · Rating 5 out of 5]

The book is defined as Sport/Mountaineer and so be it with publisher but the memoir is more than the sport of mountaineering it is a human journey by a Japanese woman with incredible physical skills, an artisan in music, and a person of integrity as a leader in both mountaineering, music, and other endeavors of educating others in enjoy the natural world with care and love.
There tons of leadership books and have read some but this woman, Junko, elevates leadership to a level most will never accomplish or exercise such leadership.

As an outdoor enthusiast in hiking, cycling, swimming, and exploring nature I can relate to Junko's insight how engaging journeys in nature with others is great learning experience of knowing ourselves and others as we navigate the journey be it a mountain summit of any type that shared experience one finds in it is life changing as much as we allow it to be. I suspect maybe this insights those who have done so to share it and live it wherever they are each day.

I always enjoyed moderate climbing but the desire at this stage of life to traverse Everest is a reminder of not just going and having the means to do so. It is the years of preparing to do such and commitment which is a physical, mental, and spiritual experience that is required to get you to the summit. Also, the possibility of not being on the summit and how will you adapt to that result and the possibility of losing your life in attempting it. Junko, in this memoir reminds us to do such in whatever we attempt to do, do so with the excellence of all our humanity.

This should be a reading for all in high school as they endeavor to venture into life in school and understand "Good Job" alone is not all that is required. Believe and do.

[Tamara Covacevich · Rating 5 out of 5]

If I could give this book 20 stars, I would. Also, I think it just became my favorite mountaineering book. The book felt so pure and honest. I felt so close to Tabei-san, and I could feel the love of her family and friends. I cried several times when reading the book, as someone that loves the mountains meeting someone that shared this love, in such a wholesome way, it felt special. She seemed to be an amazing women, that paved the way for others and followed her heart, while staying humble. Super thankful to Rocky Mountain Books for creating this masterpiece, and giving us non Japanese speakers access to the memoirs of this beautiful soul. This book also inspired me/gave me hopes that I still have many many many years for adventures, since she kept climbing even 77 years old!

As a side note, another thing that I enjoyed was all the Japanese details on the narrative, it felt good to understand them and their implications, since I lived in Japan recently.

Something that surprised me of the Everest expedition was how since they had low budget (because women expedition) they climbed without jumars (!!!!!!!!!!!!) and also I loved that she described the effort it takes (several years) to actually go on the expedition, I think this aspect often gets overlooked on mountaineering books and its fundamental.

GANBATTE!!!!!!!!!!

"There was no way I would leave the mountain. Why were they fussing over these trivial injuries? Neither broken bones nor internal bleeding. A contusion and some pressure on my chest, and lingering pain from being pulled out from the avalanche debris - that was all. "I'm OK" I yelled. "NO! I won't go down. Don't call an helicopter for me!"

[Niniane · Rating 5 out of 5]

Inspiring story of the first woman who summited Everest.

Her egalitarian marriage to another climber was great to read about. He made sacrifices (foregoing Everest himself, doing most of the housework for years while she trained) so that she could shine.

It was interesting to read about team dynamics during and after summit attempts. Some team members thought the leader was showing favoritism towards Junko. They were jealous and resentful after they were denied from their own summit attempt.

The book goes into detail about her first mountain summit outside Japan (when she had youthful hope but no experience), then summiting Everest after 4 years of preparation, then being a wise mentor in her 70s. She gave lots of talks and encouraged 1000 young people to climb Mount Fiji, to raise money and morale after an earthquake.

[Faye · Rating 4 out of 5]

I love reading adventure books about brave, trailblazing women. I think about them in times I need strength.
It was interesting reading from the perspective of a Japanese woman after reading the American Arlene Blum's book about the same period of time. Both write about how difficult it was for women to be accepted as mountaineers, but it seemed Arlene in America had a harder time than Junko in Japan. Junko's descriptions of climbing in Japan made me want to go to Japan. Her descriptions of mountaineering around the world made me wonder if these places might be accessible to me too. Above all, her mental strength and resiliency is humbling. It's also amazing to me that anyone would want to put themselves in so much danger and hardship.

[Steph · Rating 4 out of 5]

A trailblazer by every sense of the word. Loved her perspective and reading about a housewife and mother of a toddler being the first woman to summit Everest.

Fun to read during Everest season and hearing about using oxygen at high elevation with Malcolm on oxygen at home.

“Each trip had a purpose, and what elated me most was the fact that if I kept walking, no matter how fast, or slow, I would arrive at a place I had never been before. I knew that not many of my university friends could relate to how I felt in the mountains, that the release I had there was nothing like what they experienced in their fashionable world of shopping. I could hardly explain how much I needed to climb and to be among the peaks. The rocky landscape had become a part of me.”

[Kaleb · Rating 5 out of 5]

Junko Tabei is 5 foot nothing, out here climbing mountains all over the world! She’s a beast! She was a pioneer for women mountain climbers all over the world. This book is filled with stories that begins from her youth, developing a love of the outdoors and mountains while going against her family’s wishes of being a “traditional” housewife. Stories of experiencing discrimination being a woman on and away from the mountains. Stories of her climbing mountains from her twenties to her seventies!!! One of a kind woman and a one of a kind life. I’m happy to have read this! Highly recommended! Also, the relationship that she had with her husband Masanobu is relationship goals!!! We should all strive for love like those two had!!!

Rest In Paradise Junko Tabei!!!!!

[Penni · Rating 4 out of 5]

Rounding up a bit because it seemed to gloss over some parts of her life and concentrate on others for reasons that weren't clear to me. And the translation was poor in places.

But what a treat to be able to read a book about this woman's life and accomplishments and the very different cultures they took place in. I actually appreciated that it seemed more raw and less polished than a typical formulaic bestseller.

[Bruce Graham · Rating 5 out of 5]

What an inspirational work. Junko Tabei writes with honesty and sincerity. Her grief at her friend's mountaineering death is palpable. Her hurt over squabbling, her touching joy over achievement, her astonishment over her fame and her relentless drive to put one foot after the other, make for a touching story. Most people buried by an avalanche, unable to move, and eventually pulled to safety do not brush themselves off and say, 'Right, I'm off to climb Everest.' She did.
Wonderful.

[Kirat Kaur · Rating 5 out of 5]

I’m so glad this book exists in the world. This is the awesome inspiring memoir of the first woman to summit Everest and the first woman to reach the Seven Summits. Junko Tabei writes about her childhood influences, her introduction to mountain climbing, the way society perceived her and other woman climbers, her mountain climbing journeys, and perhaps most heart-wrenchingly, her battle with cancer late in life. What an amazing woman. What an admirable human being.

[Alyson · Rating 5 out of 5]

I've read a lot of mountaineer stories and this one did not disappoint. First of all, I am not a mountaineer (I am a hiker) but I loved these stories. I also appreciated real honest confessions of fear. What an incredible woman.

Favorite quote that my body (especially my left big toe) knows is The Truth:

"Humans were not made for this. Climbing, yes; descending no."

[Jose · Rating 5 out of 5]

Wow !! What amazing book about the life one extraordinary and amazing lady , so love and dedication for her passion of mountains .
Well written , my emotions flows of admiration toward this remarkable woman. Thank you .

[Jeanne · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a great mountaineering travelogue to read while under mandate to stay home. Most of the mountaineering books I've read have been men's stories. It was refreshing to read a woman's perspective.

[Madalene · Rating 4 out of 5]

An interesting heroine - the first woman to summit Everest, and a mountaineer from its 20th century history. For those who are less versed in mountaineering terminology, the glossary in back is helpful.

[Becca Anne · Rating 5 out of 5]

Loved this book. A true story that really resonated with my adventurous spirt and made me want to reach higher for my goals. Would never have picked it up on my own so really fun that it came my way through my book group as we usually read fiction. Highly recommend.

[Kelly · Rating 5 out of 5]

I didn't think a book on mountaineering would make me cry but this one did; in a good way! Junko Tabei was so genuinely kind, optimistic, and determined to make a difference. Her summit successes were inspiring, and so were her efforts to encourage others to experience the mountains.

[Eileen Spillane · Rating 5 out of 5]

What an inspiring read. I loved being transported to alpine wilderness through her eyes and hearing of all the challenges of logistics, relationships and decision making in high stress scenarios. Life and death, community and love.

[Janis Couvreux · Rating 5 out of 5]

Wow. Such a woman, such a story, such an inspiration. Japan and the world have so much to thank her for. When you feel defeated in life, think of Junko Tabriz and what she accomplished against all odds, and then daily tribulations are so terribly insignificant.

[Wandering Wizard · Rating 5 out of 5]

Brilliant book about a brilliant and inspirational life.

[Emma · Rating 5 out of 5]

Very nice read. It is so encouraging to see a female figure conquering the highs, the obstacles, and the illness to be with her love of mountains.

[Memoir · Rating 5 out of 5]

Loved this insight in to Junko's life - found the ending sad. Great translation.