High on the volcanic flank of Mount Fuji, far above the last trees, a rusted Jeep Wagoneer lies alone on the endless grey scree. Nobody seems to know exactly how or when it got there. Decades of typhoons, snow and volcanic grit have scoured it to bare metal. The engine sits exposed, the tailgate hangs open, and the cabin is slowly filling with the same black gravel that surrounds it for kilometers. Someone once drove an American family wagon impossibly high up Japan’s most sacred mountain, and never brought it back down.

The wreck has quietly become famous. Hikers detour across the slope to see it, and in 2024 the authorities even ordered its removal, though reports say it still hasn’t moved. I photographed it twice: once in the grey November of 2022, and again in May 2024, when the last snow still streaked the summit above it.