The Road Warrior at rest along the east coast of the island of Oshima, circa 6.00 a.m. Friday morning.
But happy enough right where I am.
With the marathon training and the new job, I've been tied to Tokyo for a few months now. I'm not complaining: things are moving along nicely here and I'll be back out and about bikewise and in the hills soon enough. In the meantime, I'm reliving some old memories. These are from the Hokkaido trip last summer. Hokkaido really is the perfect place for a bike tour, especially if you're a fan of seafood, hot-springs and beautiful mountains.
Taken while sitting on that wall after just pulling into the port of Utoro after a stunning 40k stretch along the coast going out onto the Shiretoko Peninsula.
Another view from that wall, of the Shiretoko range in the background, with Mt. Rausu on the right. It was around about the time I saw that view that our bike tour began to incorporate a mountain climbing element.
Another view of that range from that wall.
A sunset on a barren stretch of road just south of Cape Soya Misaki, the northernmost point in Japan.
This is Cape Soya Misaki, the northernmost point on the Japanese Archipelago and one hell of a dump. We cycled 60k into a massive headwind that day to make it there and when we got there we were less than impressed with what we found. Neither the destination or the journey itself bore any resemblance to a reward. Headwinds, long distance on bicycles and shameless tourist traps in the middle of nowhere do not mix.
I must have spent an hour on the back of the ferry coming back from Rishiri Island taking pictures of the gulls. Climbing Rishiri in the rain had been the culmination of another successful Hokkaido holiday. It had looked like it wasn't going to be possible, but we made it at the last minute, just like we did in fierce winds on Asahidake, the last mountain we had left to climb in the Daisetsuzan range, the year before.
Did this route yesterday. Here are the details for anyone wanting to try it.
To Narita:
Airport Limousine bus from any of the main hotels (3,000 yen). Airport buses will take bicycles for no extra charge if they are in Rinko bags. Go from a hotel because they are much less crowded than say a bus from Shinjuku.
Exiting the Airport:
Not as difficult as some suggested. Just follow the signs for Narita Town.
Which Route?
On the map, Route 296 (from Shisui to Funabashi) seems like a lovely short-cut that allows you to avoid Chiba City. In reality, Route 296 is longer, and it's the narrowest road in Japan, and it's crowded with Sunday shoppers travelling 4k by car to buy things they don't need. I'd suggest taking Route 51 all the way down to Chiba City and up along the coast until you reach Route 14. That way you could even stop at Inage Beach. I took Route 296.
Lunch:
Try to find a Choushi Maru restaurant (ĸ»Ò´Ý). Choushi Maru is a revolving Sushi place. Choushi is a port town on Chiba's Pacific coast, and all Sushi served at this Chiba-based chain is transported directly from there. Don't be put off by the farmers-dressed-up-for-Sunday-dinner atmosphere of the fashionable clientele: the Sushi is first-class.
Photo Opportunities:
The Welcome to Japan sign as you come out of Narita Airport? Farmers working in rice fields around Sakura? The narrowest road in the world? The combination of souped-up cars, gaudy colours, and brilliant mullets? Nah. Not a good trip for the discerning camera.
Length and Time:
The sign on Route 51 just outside Narita says: Tokyo 67k. Maybe this is true if you take Route 51. I took the "short-cut." And cycled for 94k. Pedalling time was 4h15m. A longish daytrip.
Nostalgia Value:
Strong for East Tokyo emigres like me. Without nostalgia, though, it would be just ugliness. Saitama may be the worst place in Japan, but urban Chiba runs it close.
A return to Nishi-Funabashi, Moto-Yawata, Ichikawa, the Ichikawa Bridge (police presence still there), the Ichikawa Fire Station, Koiwa, and Route 14. Back to the land of Ito Yokado.
Overall:
An easily executed Rinko, and a good day of exercise, but dangerous-ish manoeuvring in constant backed-up traffic. Not for the easily stressed or those suffering from road rage.
What Drivers Suddenly Said:
"I saw you on the road. You're fast." -- Local farmer parked outside 7-11 in Narita Town.
"Where are you going? Really?? Wow, great. I myself went to Enoshima once." -- Man on delivery moped stopped at traffic lights, Funabashi.
"Fix my fucking mirror. Bikes are not supposed to be on the road." -- Young gentleman with mullet hairstyle and metallic blue sportscar, Route 14, Shin-Koiwa
After talking about doing it for eight years, I finally cycled the Yamanote Line loop today.
It was supposed to be a 34k course but the clock on my bike reckons it was 51k. It took the whole short sunny November day.
Yanaka Cemetery, the huge, sprawling graveyard just after Ueno, caused some navigational problems, as did the section from Osaki to Shinagawa. Akihabara remains out of control. Today it was full of young girls, dressed up as maids, trying to entice the Akiba geeks to "maid coffee shops." As bearded American tourists acquired photographic proof that Japan is a weird and wacky place, I weaved my way through the waves of people and moved on.
Vortexes and navigational difficulties aside, it was a pleasant ride beside the tracks through the many different worlds of the Yamanote Line, from the verve and creativity and affluence of your Harajukus and your Ebisus to the grit and death and decay of your Nipporis and your Tabatas.
Widening the range of bike courses on a rainy long weekend.
The Kanda River runs from the Imperial Palace out through Shinjuku-ku, Nakano-ku and on to Inokashira Park in Kichijoji. Along the way it is joined by the Zempukuji River, which also ends near Kichijoji, in Zempukuji Park.
This allows for a loop course, going up one river and back the other. At times there is very little space beside the Zempukuji, but other than that it's a decent course. For me, cycling 40k in central Tokyo is equivalent to doing 80k in the countryside.
A summer bike tour taking in Kushiro, Kushiro Marshy Plains, Lake Akan, Lake Mashu, Lake Kussharo, Shari, Utoro, Shiretoko 5 Lakes, Iwaobetsu, Mt. Rausu, Abashiri, Lake Saroma, Monbetsu, Hamatonbetsu, Lake Kutcharo, Cape Soya Misaki, Wakkanai, Rishiri Island, Mt. Rishiri.
Photos in the gallery.
And an album of the seagulls of Hokkaido.
The pinnacle of the tour was the Shiretoko peninsula.
I stayed for four nights, two longer than originally planned.
You cycle 40k along the road on the edge of the peninsula until you reach the little port of Utoro, mountains on your right, the blue sea on your left. It was unspoiled even then.
And that's the populated part of the Shiretoko peninsula.
From Utoro up, it becomes the kingdom of the deer and the bear and the fox. All that remains is a one youth hostel and a hotel. The road only continues about another 20k. After that the only way to travel is to cross the rope-bridge, take your chances with the bears, climb high and walk the one trail down the centre of the ridge.
The sheer untouched remoteness of this peninsula is especially unique in the Japan of Alex Kerr. No pork-barrel concrete, no dammed rivers, no human habitation, no tourist tackiness or amazing, record-breaking, plastic attractions. Just green. And the deers and the bears and the foxes. And silence. A credit to the local grassroots movements who fought and stopped the machine of "progress." And a truly entrancing place.
Unfortunately in some ways, it's just been designated as a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Long term, that will help preserve it in its current natural state. Short-term, it attracts a lot of punters and the places to stay put their prices up.
No matter. The majority don't make it past the five lakes or the waterfall. I saw two bears in the wild, at a far enough distance not to feel worried. Others saw more and closer, fishing for salmon at the river mouth not a 100 metres from the Iwaobetsu Youth Hostel. Don't eat those carrots. Good eyesight is not always a benefit.
The best memory on the bike came in Shiretoko, too. I'd sweated the summer beer away climbing in a low gear for 12k from Utoro to the five lakes, endured the rude hordes from the tour buses at the lakes, and it was time to cycle home. For that 12k home, I hardly pedalled at all, and the bike was going just under 50k the whole time. The buses were gone and the roads were virtually empty. There was noone else except a curious northern fox and the weather was perfect. It was one of those euphoric moments among a lot of ordinary times on the bike. After the day's earlier effort, the speed of gravity in your favour and the reward.
There was also a Canadian wearing a Canada t-shirt and carrying around an enormous Kermit the Frog teddy bear on the back of his bike. Canadians aren't strange at all.
A quick selection of a few of my many photos of the place.
Back from the island of windmills, seagulls, dying towns and beautiful mountains, brown bears, green snakes, sly foxes, and striped squirrels. The bike is down but not out. The hat has seen a couple of new hyakumeizan. Its owner has sore thighs and a brown face. Photos to come soon. Comments are back on. I turned them off while I was away.
Saturday's bold plans fell flat when I was sucked into a techie-touristy-porn vortex in Akihabara and couldn't find the river I needed to cross.
The goal was to cycle out to the Ichikawa Bridge that borders Chiba and Tokyo, one of the main bridges over the Edogawa River.
Ironically, people have been known to be arrested on that very bridge on suspicion of bicycle misappropriation. It was to be a ride back into my past on a bike I paid for myself.
It was also the night of the summer fireworks on the Edogawa River, the essence of Tokyo summer and a great photo opportunity. Couples in yukatas and geta sandals, the food stalls, the beer--and the sky lighting up above them. It sounded like a plan.
But as the fireworks were due to start flying at 7.15, I found myself sucked into the vortex of Akihabara, and swirling in hopeless circles through the geeks, the tourists, and the porn, a helmeted gombeen trying desperately to break free from the triple forces of the electric town and find the river I needed to cross. I knew I was going round in circles, but the combined triple forces of the dark side (geeks, tourists, and porn - can forces get any darker?) were just too strong.
When I say the river, I mean the Sumida. All roads in Tokyo eventually lead to the Sumida, so to get out to East Tokyo, at some point you have to cross it. On Saturday night, belly empty, stress well up from the freaky forcefield around the electrictown, the fireworks already half-over without me, I gave up and went home. You're never too long-term to get lost and disoriented in Tokyo.
On Sunday, I would try again, successfully. It was easy, really. You just follow Yasukuni Dori all the way until it brings you to the Ryogoku Bridge. No need to go near Akihabara at all. Crossing the Sumida will lead you toward Chiba. Turning right will put you on the lovely cycling course along the river. If only I'd looked at a map on Saturday night, or eaten before heading out.
To cycle in Tokyo is to get to know its rivers and its roads. The Arakawa, the Sumidagawa, the Edogawa, and the Kandagawa, to name just a few rivers. Yasukuni Dori, Gaien Higashi Dori, Meiji Dori, the Koshu Kaido, to name a few roads. There's something very special about putting the whole city together in your head as you roll around connecting the rivers and the roads.
It's also to learn to avoid the vortexes. I'd been sucked in once before at Ikebukuro, that time a vortex of vigorous Saitama shoppers in high-heels, eighties prostitute belts and fake tans, but Saturday night's one in Akihabara will take some beating.
Find the rivers, learn the roads and how to avoid the myriad vortexes--that's my advice on cycling in Tokyo.
And Akihabara Electric Town needs to be renamed: there's a lot more than electrical goods being sold there these days.
I didn't expect to see this fellow in a pond at the grimy, overgrown Hibiya Park. This park, like many of the centre-pieces of Chiyoda Ward, could do with some upkeep.
Yesterday I took the new bike out for a spin in the sweltering Tokyo summer heat and humidity. It must have been well up in the thirties yesterday here.
The bike rode very well. You get a lot of response for very little effort with a good bike. I think I rode about 25 kilometres in total. The route was familiar at first, circling the Palace using Uchibori Dori, down into Marunouchi and the heart of Tokyo.
From there I did something different, as I ventured into the unknown (for me) realm that is Tokyo's Chuo Ward. After getting lost a few times along the way, I finally made it down to the bicycle course that runs along the Sumida river. This is very a nice course: no cars, cool air coming down the river, and beautiful views.
It's also a ghetto for the Tokyo homeless community. Some of them are very well established along the river, to the degree that shanty town might be a more appropriate term than homeless community. Many were enjoying the strong sun, sunbathing and sleeping on the benches along the way.
The river was up to dangerous levels. Another couple of feet and it will burst its banks. Today the forecast is for thunderstorms; tomorrow is for more of the same. My guess is the Sumida will overflow and flood the shanty town set up along it in the next two days. There are big disadvantages to settling along a flood plain.
Crossing the Chuo Ohashi bridge, I moved down into Tsukishima, one of Tokyo's shitamachi areas. It is famous for its Monja Street. Being Sunday, many of the old restaurants were closed and there were relatively few people about. A TV drama was being filmed in the middle of the street. The shopkeepers stood around hassling whoever was passing by to come eat their monja. They were being too pushy so I gave the gooey Tokyo delicacy a miss.
Back down and across the Sumida again and into Tsukiji, the fishmarket on the edge of Ginza. Two massively different worlds side by side. The Kabukiza theatre was advertising a Kabuki adaptation of Shakespeare--a new concept for me. Ginza was its usual Sunday self, and having cycled through it before I knew to bypass it this time. Over to the Yaesu exit of Tokyo Station, across the Yamanote tracks and back toward the Palace, Uchibori Dori, and the way home.
It was pleasant rolling along, but the bike is so smooth I felt I was cheating. In the evening, I frustrated myself taking it apart and practicing putting it in the Rinko bag, the special bag used in Japan for transporting your bike on the train system. I am about as mechanically minded as a goat.
I'm thinking of doing a bicycle tour this summer.
That would mean buying a decent bike, panniers, a bag to carry the bike on the train, whatever other gear is necessary, choosing a place to go in Japan, and all the rest.
Any suggestions as to how to prepare for a bicycle touring holiday (in Japan) would be really welcome.
