Mount Fuji does not have an edge. From the north side, near Fujiyoshida, it simply grows out of the forest in one long unbroken slope, and on a clear morning it looks too big to be real. The roads around it are better than most people expect. The Fuji Five Lakes sit like a necklace on the northern flank, with Kawaguchiko the busiest and Saiko and Shojiko the quietest, and the road circling them gives long views of the cone over the water. Fujiyoshida, about eleven kilometres away, has the fuel, the noodles, the hot springs and the shrine at Kitaguchi Hongu Sengen, an old pilgrim gateway where climbers once prayed before starting up.
Aokigahara, the lava forest, spreads between the lakes and the mountain. It grows on a basalt flow from the ninth century that is rough and full of caves, and the trees root straight into cracked rock. Compasses are said to misbehave, though what you mostly notice is a hush, the moss and the lack of birds. Walkers should stay on marked trails.
Riding up toward the mountain itself is a decision of the season. The toll road to the Fifth Station on the north side climbs to about 2,300 metres, and the air thins noticeably; by midsummer the access can be restricted when climbing crowds peak, so check before committing. The rest of the year the road is open when snow allows, and winter closes sections. Weather on the mountain is its own business. A warm valley can have a cold, clouded summit, and the wind at the top picks up in an hour.
Fuji is best seen in the cold, clear months, from November to February, when the air is dry and the cone is sharp and white. Summer haze often hides it completely, which surprises first-time visitors. Early morning is the safest bet in any month. On the way south, the road to Fujinomiya passes the Shiraito Falls and the broad, grassy Asagiri plateau, where dairy cattle graze under the cone. Petrol is easy in the towns and thinner on the mountain roads, so fill before you climb.