A Week-by-Week Fall Color Calendar for the Fuji Five Lakes

One morning in early November, I was standing at the bus stop in front of Kawaguchiko Station when I overheard two Vietnamese travelers having a quiet argument. One was holding a phone, showing the exact photo of “a brilliant red maple-lined street reflecting Mount Fuji” that everyone has seen online, then pointing out at the road: the trees on both sides were still green, with only the occasional canopy just beginning to turn yellow. The other sighed, “I guess the autumn leaves failed this year.” I couldn’t help turning around and telling them: go up to Yamanakako. It’s less than 40 minutes away by bus, and the colors are beautiful there this week.

That afternoon, I ran into them again at the bus stop. They were beaming, and their cameras were full of red-leaf photos. Same day, same Fuji Five Lakes region, separated by only about 150 meters in elevation and a few dozen kilometers of road—and one side was “still way too green” while the other had “turned the whole lake red.” That is exactly what articles claiming “Mount Fuji is at its most beautiful in November” never tell you.

The area around Mount Fuji does not have one single autumn-leaf season. It has a band of fall color lasting nearly ten weeks, beginning above 2,000 meters in late September and ending at the southern foothills around Fujinomiya in the first week of December. The colors move downward like a slow-flowing ribbon, and the five lakes—Kawaguchi, Yamanaka, Sai, Shoji, and Motosu—sit at different points along it. This article is your week-by-week calendar for figuring out which point you are at, along with how to read Japan’s koyo forecasts and choose the right dates for your own trip.

Why the Fuji Five Lakes region has nearly ten weeks of beautiful fall color

A dramatic staircase of elevations

Few places in Japan have elevation changes as steep as those around Mount Fuji. Within a radius of just a few dozen kilometers, you can go from the 5th Station of the Fuji Subaru Line at around 2,300 meters, down to observation decks on mountain passes and plateaus at roughly 1,100–1,400 meters, down to the lake surfaces at 830–980 meters, then lower still to Fujiyoshida at around 750 meters, and finally to the Shiraito Falls and Lake Tanuki area on the Fujinomiya side at only about 500–650 meters.

A rule of thumb commonly used by Japan’s autumn-leaf hunters is that for every additional 100 meters of elevation, the temperature drops by about half a degree and the leaf season arrives roughly two to three days earlier. That may sound minor, but across the 1,800-meter difference between the 5th Station and Shiraito Falls, it adds up to an interval of nearly two months. That is why, on the same three-day trip, you can effectively “chase” autumn vertically instead of traveling long distances horizontally.

The tree species determine the colors you see

At higher elevations, from around 1,600 meters upward, the dominant trees are karamatsu (Japanese larch), mixed with birch and rowan. The colors at this level are copper and golden yellow, dotted with orange-red—not the deep crimson many people imagine.

The middle elevations, around 1.000–1.500 meters, are home to momiji (Japanese maple), buna (Japanese beech), kaede, and some ginkgo. This is the zone that produces the classic red-orange colors.

Around the lakes and foothills, you will also find ginkgo planted along city streets, purple-red sakura foliage, and ornamental rows of momiji—the elements that create the famous “leaf tunnels.” The Aokigahara Forest around Lakes Sai and Shoji, however, consists mainly of evergreen conifers, so do not expect the entire forest to change color; the best colors are along the lakeshores and on the slopes above them.

The five lakes are not at the same elevation

This is a detail very few Vietnamese-language articles mention, but it explains almost all of the difference in timing:

• Lake Kawaguchi: around 830 meters—the lowest of the five lakes, so it changes color latest.
• Lake Yamanaka: around 980 meters—the highest and largest lake, where cold nights arrive early and the red leaves appear first.
• Lakes Sai, Shoji, and Motosu: all around 900 meters. These three lakes were once part of a single large lake divided by lava flows. Their water levels remain connected underground, so they are nearly at the same elevation and change color at almost the same pace.

The 150-meter difference between Yamanaka and Kawaguchi may not sound significant, but combined with the fact that the Yamanakako basin catches cold winds earlier, the two lakes are actually about a week to ten days apart. That is exactly the difference between “still way too green” and “the whole lake has turned red” in the story at the beginning.

A week-by-week fall color calendar: late September to early December

The timeline below is based on the average pattern in recent years. It can shift by an entire week from one year to the next, and the general trend is that the season is arriving later as autumns become warmer. Use this calendar to choose a general week, then finalize your dates using that year’s koyo forecast.

Late September to week 1 of October: above 2,000 meters

While Tokyo is still hot, the areas above 2,000 meters on Mount Fuji have already entered autumn. Along the Fuji Subaru Line toward the 5th Station, the section from around the 4th Station upward begins turning yellow, while vivid red rowan bushes against black volcanic rock create a landscape found almost nowhere else.

This is also the period when the first snow usually appears on the summit—the Japanese call it hatsukansetsu. On average, it occurs around early October, but some years it comes much later, so do not treat it as a certainty. If you get the timing right, you may see a white summit, golden slopes, and green foothills—a three-level color composition that photographers dream of.

A practical note: the road to the 5th Station may have periods of private-car restrictions and seasonal closures, and the rules change from year to year. Check the official website of Yamanashi Prefecture or the operating company before making plans.

Weeks 2–3 of October: the 1,100–1,500-meter belt

The colors descend to the plateaus and mountain passes. This is when Koyodai—literally, “autumn-leaf viewing platform”—at around 1.165 meters between Lake Sai and Aokigahara Forest is at its best. Continue climbing to Sankodai at around 1.200 meters, where you can see Lakes Sai, Shoji, and Motosu spread across a sea of forest, with Mount Fuji rising directly behind them.

Panoramadai above Lake Shoji, at around 1.300 meters, also reaches peak color during this period. The walk up takes about an hour on a moderately steep trail, and the reward is the famous “Ko-Fuji” view: a small hill nestled in front of Mount Fuji like a child tucked against its mother.

To the east, Mikuni Pass, at around 1.170 meters overlooking Lake Yamanaka, also begins to change. At Kawaguchiko, meanwhile, the cable car up Mount Tenjo—whose summit is around 1.075 meters—makes the elevation differences easy to see: the trees at the top are already speckled with yellow and red, while the lake below remains vividly green.

Week 4 of October to week 1 of November: Lake Yamanaka takes the lead

The highest lake joins the show first. Asahigaoka on the southern shore of Lake Yamanaka has a momiji-lined stretch that locals call the leaf tunnel. A fall foliage festival is usually held there in late October, with evening illuminations and a few food stalls. The exact schedule varies each year, so check the Yamanakako village tourism website before you go.

Walking along the lakeshore near Nagaike Shinsui Park early in the morning is a pleasure in itself: the wind is usually calm before 8 a.m., the lake lies flat like a mirror, and Mount Fuji appears in full against the red foliage. If you had only one morning in your life to photograph Mount Fuji in autumn, I would choose this period at Yamanakako over the crowds at Kawaguchiko.

During this same period, Hananomiyako Park near Lake Yamanaka shifts into its late-flower-season scenery, while the susuki (silver pampas grass) on the hillsides around the lake catch the afternoon light beautifully—a different kind of “golden autumn” that few people notice.

Weeks 1–2 of November: Sai, Shoji, and Motosu reach their stride

The three lakes at around 900 meters are usually at their best during this period.

At Lake Sai, the easiest attraction to visit is Iyashi no Sato Nenba, a reconstructed thatched-roof village on the northwestern shore: thatched houses, Mount Fuji behind them, and red momiji in front of the eaves create an unmistakably “old Japan” scene without having to travel all the way to Shirakawa-go. Admission costs a few hundred yen, but check the official website because prices and opening hours may change seasonally.

Lake Shoji is the smallest of the five lakes, and also the quietest. Its appeal is that you can stand on the northern shore almost entirely alone, looking across still water toward Mount Fuji edged by golden and red forest. If you are traveling by bus, check the timetable carefully for services toward Shoji and Motosu, as they run much less frequently than the routes around Kawaguchiko.

Lake Motosu is the deepest lake, known for its distinctive deep-blue water. The most famous viewpoint is at Nakanokura Pass on the southern shore—the exact scene printed on the ¥1,000 banknote. The hike up takes about 30 minutes on a steep trail, and the view of Mount Fuji reflected in the lake between two slopes of changing forest is worth every step. Early in the morning, before the wind picks up, the mountain’s reflection is at its clearest.

Weeks 2–3 of November: Lake Kawaguchi reaches its peak

This is the week when the entire region descends on Kawaguchiko—and for good reason.

Momiji Kairo, the maple-lined corridor on the lake’s northern shore near the art museum district, is the main attraction: two rows of mature momiji form a canopy over a narrow canal, glowing red from end to end, with Mount Fuji as a backdrop. The Fujikawaguchiko Autumn Leaves Festival is usually held during the first half of November, with evening illuminations; the start and end dates vary each year, so check the town’s official website.

Beyond Momiji Kairo, Yagizaki Park on the eastern shore and the roads around the northern shore can be just as spectacular while being much less crowded. Oishi Park follows its own schedule: the round, ball-shaped kochia bushes there turn red earlier, usually around mid-October, so if that is the scene you want, you need to visit separately from the momiji season.

An honest warning: on weekends during this period, the road around Lake Kawaguchi’s northern shore can come to a complete standstill, parking lots fill early, and Momiji Kairo can be so crowded that it is difficult to take a photo without people in it. If you are driving, arrive before 8 a.m. or be prepared to park farther away and walk.

Week 4 of November: below 800 meters

As the lakes begin to shed their leaves, autumn moves down into the towns. Arakurayama Sengen and its five-story Chureito Pagoda—the world’s most famous Mount Fuji photo spot—are often beautiful during this period, when the momiji around the pagoda are red and the mountain behind them has begun to gather snow. The staircase to the pagoda has nearly 400 steps, so wear proper shoes.

Kitaguchi Hongu Fuji Sengen Shrine in Fujiyoshida, with its enormous ancient cedars and solemn atmosphere, is also at its best in late November. It receives far fewer international visitors and feels much quieter than the lake areas. In town, the ginkgo trees along the main roads turn brilliant yellow, while the carpet of leaves underfoot grows thicker by the day.

Week 1 of December: the Fujinomiya foothills

Many people do not realize that the fall colors around Mount Fuji have not necessarily ended by December. On the southern slopes, Lake Tanuki at around 650 meters and the Shiraito Falls area at around 500 meters often retain their colors through the first week, and in some years into mid-December. The broad curtain of falling water, edged with the last leaves of the season and backed by a snow-capped Mount Fuji, is in my opinion the most beautiful composition of the entire season—and it is usually much quieter.