One of the bits of geographic trivia I latched onto during my childhood is that Japan is a great cycle touring destination - knowledge I acquired years before becoming the sort of person who might go there to do just that.
Sarah and I had bookings for September 2020, but that fell victim to the pandemic. A "double status points" promotion by Air New Zealand - not to mention Sarah's relatively unconstrained employment status - became the necessary conditions for us to make another attempt. In reset mode myself, I booked an uncharacteristically long trip - three weeks in total for me, after which I'd return to work while Sarah headed to Mongolia to catch up with friends and family there.
True to recent form, since booking the flights I didn't put much thought into the trip, but upon returning from our Northland road-trip, I found my stress-levels building, and decided I'd better put some thought into it. I was surprised to find that train travel was neither as quick nor as cheap as I'd imagined it would be, and instead locked in domestic flights from Tokyo Narita to Sapporo, on the northern-most (large) island of Hokkaido. Rather than working out a touring route first, and booking flights to suit, I let schedules and pricing dictate, giving us seven days on the road. That relieved enough pressure to let me revert to not planning...
Kaitlyn was in Wellington for the week leading up to our departure, and it was a nice sign of the times that Sarah and I were farewelled at Wellington airport by our two 25 year olds - Khulan behind the wheel, and her sister riding shotgun. Time has flown since our family became, but what a success!!!
Transiting Auckland the next morning, Sarah and I were thrilled to find that our premium economy raffle tickets had paid off once again. We'd booked a hotel at Narita airport, and while I fretted about the short drive between the terminal and the hotel, the hotel shuttle that turned up had an immense underbelly, and the bike bags were no drama at all.
We had the next morning to kill (and did so at a nearby town after a short local train trip), and then made our way back to the hotel then terminal for our domestic flight. Our initially strange flight path had the nice consequence that we spied Mt Fuji out the window as our plane was finally heading north.
An hour or so later we began our approach into New Chitose Airport on Hokkaido, and we began to see touring fodder out the window.
Emerging from the terminal we got a hell of a fright, as the air temperature seemed some 20 degrees less than we were expecting (and what we were dressed for)!. When the hotel shuttle arrived, I was probably gladder to get myself into the van and out of the wind than I was about the bike bags fitting in the boot!!!! We had clothes enough to survive the next day if it turned out that it was going to consistently be this cold, but we would be making a beeline for a bike shop to buy an assortment of warm accessories!
I hadn't pre-negotiated bike-bag storage, but had deliberately chosen a hotel that looked sure to have redundant space somewhere. Before heading to bed, I'd confirmed storage was available for the week, and had a room booked for our final night on the island. What's more, after a bit of faffing around with a couple of mapping tools (Google and Strava), I'd booked a hotel on the northern outskirts of Sapporo, and had mapped out a route through some nearby hills to get there.
Day 1 - long cut to Sapporo
There was a bit of drizzle in the air when I assembled the bikes outside the hotel in the morning. But, it was also a damn sight warmer than it had been the previous evening, and that was a relief.
Once the bikes were tended to, I stowed one bike bag inside the other, and Sarah's Mongolia luggage, and my own bag of extras were also stashed inside so we had to leave just one piece in the hotel's storage facility. See you in a week, we said to the clerk.
After a few minutes slowly navigating pedestrian crossings, we'd bought some snacks from a nearby convenience store (the first time of many), and had discovered a cycle path along the river our route followed. We immediately felt at home!
As is often the case, there were minor adjustments to make to clothing and other things as we settled in to our work. But otherwise, attention went to what was around us, and we started soaking in (and enjoying) differences in both the man-made and natural environments.
I also began my practice of looking out for route enhancements - whether to get away from something (e.g. a car-laden road) or to get more of something (e.g. a cute gravel road). One of our first such deviations served up a section of closed road that was bustling with bird watchers!
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Once back on the main road, we were soon lured onto a separated cycle path. This was very lovely riding, but for the fact that much of it was lined with meadows the likes of which I could easily imagine in a bear documentary. To boot, there were a range of warning signs, which seemed to portray bears in various states of cuteness (from cartoon teddy-bear types to something angry).
I really enjoyed the few times we saw deer, not for their own sake, but because I assumed they had more experience looking out for bears than we did!
Eventually the cycle path came to an end, and we joined the main road briefly through to Lake Shikotsu. There, we found plenty of food options, and a visitor centre which we took a quick look through. I was delighted to sample a "curry donut" and a "Hokkaido scallop cream horokke" both of which were delicious and surely the sort of thing best reserved for cycle tours. I've long since decided tours are the only times I am safe to eat with impunity!
There was a very brief rain shower as we left the facility, which turned out to be less annoying than the terrible road surface we found along the lakeside. We both concluded this was likely due to the freeze-thaw cycle shared with Mongolian roads, which also suffer from cracking and potholes due to the temperature extremes they have to cope with.
As a nice distraction, we saw a dude fishing from a spot strangely far from the shore.
The first proper climb of the trip followed, and indeed that signalled the beginning of a lumpy 35km stretch. I was blown away by how much forest there was, and while we did see more people fishing than cycling, vehicle traffic was minimal as well.
We had a nice descent into suburbs on the southern extreme of Sapporo - the island's capital city and one of the largest cities in Japan. Leaving the forest for the urban jungle had the virtue of the plethora of convenience stores on offer, and we did an early raid to top up fuel tanks. We spent a bit of time on a major arterial route, but when I spied a river-side path on my map, it had our name on it.
The smaller river soon fed into the much larger Toyohira River, and the path infrastructure got progressively larger too. Fortunately, we were heading down river, and the gravity-assist took the edge off a chilly headwind.
As we neared the centre of Sapporo, I delegated tourist attraction research to Sarah. It seemed there was a local "Eiffel Tower" nearby, so I tweaked the route and we made our way there via a convenience store for a snack.
I found myself riding like a bit of a muppet in the city, and it wasn't until a few days later that I worked out what was causing my ineptitude - unlike NZ, Japanese traffic lights consisted of a single set on the far side of the intersection. I had to really battle decades of subconscious observation, and would invariably find myself hauling on the brakes to prevent blowing through a red light...!
Our destination - relatively new hotel on the outskirts of Sapporo - had been a bit of a compromise. The next available accommodation on booking.com had been a bit far up the road, but cutting the ride an hour short seemed better than an hour too long.
After a fair bit of negotiation to avoid our bikes leaning against the hotel exterior for the night, we washed up, and Sarah found a local and highly rated place for dinner. It was a few kilometres away, but within walking distance. Once there, it was hard to reconcile the reviews with the size of the building, but we nonetheless ventured in.
I was not stoked to find that almost everyone inside was smoking, but other than that, the next hour dished up a really authentic cultural experience. One fellow - who ended up paying our bill (and not before he'd shoved our tab into his mouth so that we couldn't commandeer it) - had a school mate who'd married a New Zealander and happened to be visiting. She appeared about 15 minutes later, and helped immensely with translation and guiding us through the available food options, significantly relieving pressure from just about everyone!
After a nice hour, we said our thanks and farewells, took a bunch of group photos, then strolled home happier for this interaction.
Stats: 94km ridden, a very manageable 13 to 20 degrees, zero bear attacks!
Day 2 - into the hills
After a modest breakfast, our first stop was a nearby 7-Eleven for a top up, and to grab some ride supplies. We were bound for an onsen resort an ambitious day's ride away.
The first 20km or so was flat, and we were treated to occasional spectacular views of offshore windmills, with a surprising backdrop of snowy peaks!
Still following the coastline, the rollers started, and I was fascinated at how much the scenery reminded me of Mongolia (ignoring the ocean, of course)! Plenty of grass for one, but also the design of the buildings (here too, having to deal with a cold winter), and the way the settlements weren't overly densely packed.
A lot of the road was lined with collapsible steel barriers, which I presumed were to do with keeping the roads clear of snow in the winter. Some were completely folded down but a handful of stragglers made me wonder if the role was also (or instead) to do with wind.
We passed a couple of golf courses - "medium-golf courses", Sarah coined them, being neither mini nor full sized. I later noticed the balls were about the size of a tennis ball, and were made out of hard plastic. We saw the courses regularly, and even in apparently remote locations.
After a short detour through a small fishing village (no sashimi or sushi for us, much to Sarah's disappointment), we turned inland and were treated to a lovely climb before dropping down into a valley running parallel with the coast.
There, we found some incredible infrastructure, including an elevated bit of road (aka bridge) which gave us grand views over a spillway.
We'd seen a large eagle earlier in the day, but it was in a tree, and was almost as hard to see as it had been to photograph. We had no such issue with our first fox of the trip, which seemed entirely unbothered by us. It neither ran away nor attacked, both of which we were grateful for!
We traversed a small range of hills and then snuck around a relatively major town at the confluence of two rivers. We followed one of these rivers into the next set of hills - towards the town of Ashibetsu - from time to time on cycle paths which were likely along an old railway bench.
I was a little bit nervous about the final (uphill) 5km push to our hotel, but hoped a happy ending would make it worthwhile. The onsen resort proved a bit tricky to check into, and it seemed like the majority of their clientele were not only local, but also day visitors to the onsen rather than hotel guests. Check-in was interesting, and we later visited at a few places with a similar protocol. Our "outside shoes" went into a locker immediately inside, and once that done, we were able to progress further into the building. We got there through trial and error.
We went to the onsen before dinner. Unlike many which refuse access to people with tattoos outright, there were a couple of options here: "Tattoo friendly time" was 5am-7am and 9pm to midnight, and there were also "stickers" available from reception which could be used to cover tattoos which were small enough.
We had no tattoos to worry about, but Sarah gave me a bit of a run-down of washing protocol before we separated. Despite being phoneless, we were on relatively the same wavelength, and arrived back at our room within a minute of each other, having sampled pools of varying temperatures, and a couple of sauna options (following a prolonged full body wash, of course).
The onsite dinner options were great, and there was plenty of chilled water available so rehydration was also not a problem. Despite a long ride, we had a lovely evening, and even managed to get a load of laundry done.
Stats: 137km ridden, and a relatively warmer 20 to 28 degrees. One Fantastic Mr Fox and a very nice onsen experience.
Day 3 - false flat extravaganza
Our bikes had spent the night locked together outside the front door of the hotel, but thankfully they were waiting for us when we checked out. The hotel was in the sticks, so while in essence the policy was the same as at our previous stay, I hadn't been at all concerned this time.
We began the ride by heading back towards Ashibetsu, but turned off just before the town itself. I'd noticed a lovely little piece of road which took us over a 500m hill instead of around it. The first part of the climb was indeed lovely.
We'd settled into the glorious cuteness of it all, when suddenly we burst out of the forest cover to find a construction site. Beyond that was wide road with buttery smooth tarmac which felt tragically out of place, given the narrow road we'd come up was the only access. From time to time we could see remnants of the old road, whose charming character had continued despite the apparent need for upgrade. Progress, eh?
Unfortunately, neither the old nor the new continued to the top, and we spent about 20 minutes trying to find a decent line up a steep and rocky section of road that will be no great loss. To make things worse, we worried a little about bears too, and so the whole experience wasn't overly pleasant. Once over the saddle, the road became sealed, and we were treated to spectacular views of a mountain range with plenty of snow remnants. Thank goodness...!
Rather than descend right to the valley floor, we rode a parallel route through farm land, and for a brief while we found ourselves on a "60km permanent [cycling] course".
Near Asahikawa, we joined a river side cycling path, and despite feeling like we were heading inland, we actually headed down-valley for a while.
From the centre of town, we began following the Ishikari river upstream. A cycle path was mostly perched atop a flood-bank, and this provided a relatively interesting vantage over the river and adjacent neighbourhood.
It seemed increasingly likely that we were going to get wet, and though we managed to skirt around thunderstorms for a while, eventually it was time for coats on. As is often the case on bikes, we probably ended up getting wetter from water coming off our wheels than from above. And, we weren't the only ones - we saw at least two pairs of cycle tourists heading the opposite way.
After about 50km of fairly uninspiring false flat ("are we there yet?!?!"), we arrived in the small town of Kamikawa. Options in this valley had been slim, and I'd booked us a room in a cute backpackers lodge with shared facilities. We initially struggled to find it, but once inside, it looked likely that we'd have the entire place to ourselves for the night (pros and cons to this, of course).
I did a lap of town by bike while Sarah settled in. Having a better sense of the place, we later struck out on foot for dinner. I understood why Sarah didn't want to give a nearby pizzeria a go, and with loaner umbrellas in hand, we walked over a massive railway overpass to get from one side of the town to the other. It wasn't all bad, as there was elevator access to take the edge off the effort!
After a failed attempt to access a restaurant, we tried a noodle bar. There, we had a very nice bowl of ramen - more entree-like than mains, but sufficiently authentic that we made do with extras from a convenience store and finished the meal off back at the lodge.
Stats: 121km ridden as a means to an end. 18 to 27 degrees, and a bit of rain.
Day 4 - star studded ride through the mountains
To the extent that we'd found the last 50km of the previous day's ride a bit of an uninspiring slog, I was not thrilled that we were straight back into it the next morning and staring down the barrel of another 50km or so of gradual climbing.
The lodge had coffee which was very welcome while we packed up, and we'd bought some food the previous evening to devour. We rode to the nearby convenience store fully suited up, and chowed down a few more items, and then got into our work.
The sun was shining, both literally and figuratively, and we both seemed chipper! Gorgeous roadside scenery was surely helping, though I was curious to discover what conditions would be like at the highpoint of our ride - Mikuni Pass at an elevation of 1140m above sea level. Snow seemed conceivable. In any case, it was quickly apparent this wasn't a case of rinse and repeat, and I shouldn't have been worried about the slog.
While mostly on-road, we followed a section of the "Asahikawa Sounkyo Cycletrack" through dense forest for a few minutes, imagining bears as we rode. Derelict bridges seen from the main road also seemed consistent with this being an old railway route. We passed an abandoned hotel sitting below dramatic cliffs without investigating its history.
After a few "galleria" tunnels, and one epic 3.4km tunnel, we arrived in Sounkyo. This seemed to be a collection of onsen resorts, and a 7-Eleven there gave us a welcome opportunity to have some morning tea and a break from the gradual climbing.
Leaving town we were among a few "motorists" who stopped to admire some roadside deer.
Next, we reached a major intersection where we took the turnoff to cross over the Taisetsu Dam, behind which sits a decent sized lake. Just over the dam, there was yet another tunnel, and then the road undulated around the lake. The view up the Ashikawa River valley was pretty bleak, but so far we were managing to avoid rain.
We followed a second river valley away from the lake, and enjoyed another fox encounter. Road structures associated with winter were plentiful - some keeping snow off the road, and elevated arrows pointing out the road edge.
A tunnel took us through rather than over Mikuni Pass. Invariably, the course I'd plotted for the day went overland, in apparent ignorance of the tunnels. The tell as we approached them was that the upcoming gradient on my climb screen became inconceivably steep.
Once through the tunnel, we not only found a spectacular observation point, but also a cafe. We decided to prioritise the latter, and opted for a proper sit down meal. Sarah had a soup while I had some pork katsu floating in some noodle soup. We shared a spectacularly decadent dessert.
Once outside, it seemed very likely we were about to get wet. We were looking out into an incredible weather-laden basin, and it was really reminiscent of the area around Cradle Mountain in Tasmania ("Kentish, Tasmania's Outdoor Art Gallery, as seen on Day 5 of our 2022/23 tour). Little did we know that the views would yet get even more spectacular, thanks to some man-made elements!
Long climbs and shit weather can make bikes seem like a poor vehicle choice, but they are great when you see something amazing and want to stop. Case in point, the views of Matsumio Bridge - sitting high above the forest - were incredible, and enhanced greatly by the rain we would soon experience.
I didn't stop on the bridge itself, which was a shame, as I got very wet soon after, and had to endure. A. Crack. In. The. Road. Every. Twenty. Metres. Or. So. (That was about as much fun to type as the road was to ride.) Such a shame, but I guess impossible to avoid given the winter conditions the road was subject to.
The descent was starting to peter out when I spotted a car ahead, stopped at a weird angle in the middle of the road. Nine times out of ten, this means there was something interesting to see, and so I stopped too.
Sure enough... BEARS!!!!
We'd been ever torn between our hope to see some and our strong desire not to get eaten (perhaps that was unlikely, but I wasn't much keen to have any scary encounter...). I'd long since concluded that I'd very much like to see one from a bridge (where I'd have an unrestricted view, and no risk), but this too was a great vantage point and was a very special experience.
The bears made me feel somewhat better about the rain and the road surface, and I was feeling pretty upbeat when we reached Lake Nukabira, despite wet feet. When I'd mapped the route, I'd noticed a sunken railway line on the map, and a parking area with a few cars in it hinted that this might be the spot. A short walk took us to the lake, and we spent a few minutes enjoying the bridge in the distance.
We stopped briefly to chat to a couple of teenage boys cycling in the opposite direction, and soon after made a short detour for coffee in a small resort town just beyond our turnoff. I was hoping that would perk us up suitably for the 8km climb that was the last major hurdle for the day (other than the ride's length).
We were in shade for much of the climb, not that sunshine was a problem. I clambered up a grassy slope to check a view that had been created when a ski lift was installed. I was glad not to find a bear enjoying the view.
Climb dispatched, we had a short descent to a narrow little road hugging the shore of another mountain lake. We had tantalising glimpses of the lake, but the deep blue colour was impossible to photograph. At the far end of the lake, we passed through a small resort, and I kicked myself for not knowing about it. 110km would have been a perfect ride length, but alas, we had a hotel booked 40km riding away.
After a very short climb, we began an almost 25km descent, throughout which we probably could have not pedaled at all and still made good progress. Despite mapping the route, I'd little sense of what to expect, and was really surprised to see what a massive plateau we were dropping into.
I started having some rear tyre issues on the outskirts of Obihiro, and a relatively new electric pump in my frame bag was put to good use. Stress associated with that (including wondering why I was struggling to keep up with Sarah prior to discovering the leak) had me quite fragged, and eventual arrival at a 7-Eleven in Shikaoi, just beyond our turn-off, provided a much needed physical and mental pick-me-up.
Our booked accommodation was overlooking a river, and to get there we crossed two more rivers, each time climbing out to traverse flat terrain, being actively farmed.
We had a little bit of trouble finding our "onsen resort" - much like in Mongolia, buildings are designed to keep the cold out in the depths of winter, and what is relatively impenetrable to the cold, also tends to be difficult to see through. We overshot, and then went back and decided we'd better investigate a nondescript complex more carefully!
Eventually we got inside, and were soon being ushered into our room, or more accurately, our apartment. I'd had to book two single rooms (all that appeared available online) but via message had asked if something else was available. I think rather than faff around with a refund, we'd paid enough to upgrade into the palatial room we found ourselves in.
As with almost all of our accommodation, free or inexpensive laundry facilities were available, and once riding gear was being laundered, we suited up in the traditional clothing supplied with the room, and went to the dining hall for a traditional Japanese dinner.
While my cobber had an onsen, I spent time trying to unfuck our next day's itinerary. I'd been a little bit sloppy with accommodation booking, and instead of a hotel in Hidaka, we had a very nice room in Shinhidaka! These were both on the coast, and between us and them was a whopping mountain range - which I was very much looking forward to riding over. The challenge was between the two locations was about 40km of flat riding.
After exploring various alternatives (including riding around the mountains rather than over them), with much assistance from Google, I transcribed a convoluted route through backroads that Pythagoras would have been proud of. Time would tell how road-like some of these actually were!
That all done, and washing hung, it was nice to finally clock out, feeling fragged after a long day.
Stats: 151km ridden, 1820m ascended. Deer, foxes and bears seen from the road. One soft rear tyre. 14 to 24 degrees and plenty of epic (and occasionally leaky) storm clouds.
Day 5 - unscheduled dismount
Again in traditional garb, we enjoyed a breakfast that went nicely with our outfits.
I added a bottle of sealant into my rear tyre before we set off, hoping that it would resolve the issues of the previous afternoon. We had a long day ahead thanks to my stuff up, and while I'd managed to find a way to keep the route below 160km, it was still going to be a hard day if everything went right!
Out of the gate, we crossed the river and immediately made for a convenience store for some grocery shopping and breakfast top up. We then followed the main road for about 10km, enjoying while it lasted having gravity on our side!
At Shimizu, we turned away from the river and began the morning's 20km (and 900 vertical metre) ascent. Initially this was through the outskirts of Shimizu and staring straight at some big hills. I couldn't make out the road, and was curious to see how the engineers had navigated the steep slopes. Once we began sidling the road gradient hadn't really changed, but we did start getting lovely views back over the river plains. A duty-free (???) shopping complex came a bit too soon on the climb, and while we had a quick browse, we weren't yet in the market for food or drink (nor various impressive bear skins...).
The next milestone was Nissho Pass, notable because we were still about 7km of climbing from the summit! I wondered if many jurisdictions would merely call it Nissho Corner, but nonetheless, a viewing platform high above the road was a nice place to chill out, have a snack, and admire our morning's progress.
The rest of the climb featured a handful of tunnels, and indeed, the last few metres of ascending were avoided. Sarah didn't initially notice the magnificent horses etched into the portal, and we were both ignorant of the significance of this particular decorative choice. We hadn't seen horses on our travels.
On the other side of the tunnel, we began an almost 60km descent! I was dreading finding more regular cracks in the road, but fortunately the surface was much better than the previous day's drop. We were passing through yet another national park, and the forest was impressive - according to online sources, just over half of Hokkaido is shrouded by original forest, with a top up to about 70% of the land mass by "non-natural tree cover". Whatever, it made for lovely cycling.
We were soon down in the Saru River valley, and passed through many tunnels, built to straighten the road, or protect it from rock or snowfall. About 4.5 hours after setting off, we arrived at a decent sized town, whereupon it became my priority to find a decent sized lunch. With loaded bellies and loaded pockets, we set off once more. We had 20km or so on the main road yet to ride, and then would begin the third phase of the day, a very lumpy sequence of back roads, which I sincerely hoped would be welcoming!
We were getting some lovely views of the river, but also had to be careful as the road edge had recently been milled in anticipation of resealing. All of a sudden I heard a yelp from behind me. I stopped and looked back, only to see... absolutely no one. The road was completely empty!
I ditched my bike, began jogging back down the road, and was relieved to hear Sarah call out again - "heeellllp". At least I could now rule out alien abduction. I didn't see her until I was right at the trench she'd carved through the weeds as she'd careened off the road. Before pulling her bike off her and helping her out of the ditch, I risked life and limb by capturing the moment - Sarah was not at all amused, but I did feel somewhat vindicated a couple of hours later when she asked to see the photo.
Fortunately, her bike seemed fine (and proved to be), and while she'd had a hard landing, she had no puncture wounds and nor was she covered in mud or anything else gross. Her pride was certainly dented, and no adult body feels great after a fall.
There was little point interrogating her over the cause, but essentially she'd run her front tyre along a vertical bit of road for too long, got off balance, and having lost control of the correction process, steamed off into the ditch.
We dug out our first aid kit, and she popped a couple of painkillers. Once back at my bike, I noticed her bottle was missing, and went back for it - the divot in the weeds was once again helpful.
A short while later, we came to the turn off I'd mapped. A cute gravel road ended at a fence 20 seconds later, which didn't bode well, especially now that Sarah had had a heavy fall. We retreated to the main road, and proceeded to find an actual road soon after. This took us down to the river, and across it. Our adventure began!
Midway up the first climb of many, we found a roadside spring, and while Sarah's Google Translate was offline, we decided the signage was telling all and sundry that the water was safe to drink. It was also nice and cold, and Sarah gave herself a good drenching to take the edge off the afternoon sun.
Despite my mapping difficulties, I'd was surprised to find the majority of our route was on decent sized roads. As we'd come to expect, these served up interesting sights, including an empty river basin sitting behind a concrete dam. I did look for bears, but saw none.
Inevitably, we came to a turn onto an unsealed forest road. It wasn't gated, and while there was a sign in Japanese saying something important, again, we weren't in a position to understand it. We pretended it was merely a bear warning sign, but it was conceivable it was saying "keep out".
I relaxed after 5 minutes, when the slightly muddy double track arrived at a concrete bridge over a large stream - we may yet get eaten, but I felt confident we weren't going to have to back-track. The road was actually lovely, and it was such a shame Sarah was doing it in pain. I dinged my bell every now and then, which while effective protection against the bears in the area, didn't prevent me from seeing a fox or two.
I was sad to see the back of the forest road, though the seal suited Sarah better, and it had better accessories. In particular, a vending machine at the 9 hour mark was a welcome surprise - the sun was out in force, for the first time on the trip.
We passed a bunch of road signs for Shinhidaka, none of which was pointing in the direction we were headed. A low lying ridge was our last challenge, and while cars were being urged to go around it (or cross it elsewhere), there was indeed a cute little track up and over.
I waited for Sarah at an intersection of two gravel roads, and before we left a car full of Indian chaps stopped to chat (aka, to ask what the hell we were doing there)! We'd long since noticed that we were in thoroughbred horse country - very welcome on this afternoon - as I've noted before on this blog, the psychological boost Sarah gets when she sees horses in a paddock (especially when they are running) is palpable. Ironically, these guys - all horse-workers - said were looking forward to welcoming two Mongolian women onto their staff at the end of the week.
The ridge had one nasty pinch left for us, before it served up a nifty little descent into the backside of Shinhidako. From there, it was a relatively short ride to our hotel. I was glad our bikes were able to be stashed into a storage room, but before I left mine, I did a quick convenience store run.
Having washed, we struck out on foot for dinner, and found a nearby restaurant at which we ordered a handful of dishes (including a second helping of sweet-corn drenched in butter).
Poor Sarah was sore, but at least now we had options. Our bike bags were a mere 100km up the road, and we had two full days to ride, before a night back at our original hotel and then an early afternoon flight back to Tokyo.
I didn't book accommodation for the next day, figuring we could play it by ear to ensure Sarah wasn't under any needless pressure.
Stats: 157km ridden, more than desirable thanks to my booking blunder, but less than a simpler route would have been. 1940m climbed. One unfortunate crash for Sarah. Hotter than usual - 16 to 32 degrees.
Day 6 - flat and contingency laden
Our hotel hadn't been much to look at from outside, and while the staff at check in had been absolutely lovely, and the room comfortable, the best was waiting for us when we arrived at breakfast - accessed through a horse-race starting gate, no less.
There was a really nice range of food, spanning Japanese and western sensibilities, and it had been laid out beautifully, making it a visual feast as well.
Sarah was sore, so consumed painkillers with breakfast. She reported she was able to ride, and so the morning routines were our usual ones.
Outside, we found ourselves setting off in heavy fog, presumably thanks to our coastal environment. Not far out of town, we climbed over a small bump, atop which we found a freeway coming to an abrupt end high above us! It was nice to infer that most traffic would be heading towards Sapporo on that road.
While traffic was light, the road shoulder was often deformed (from a combination of heat and vehicle mass). I fretted about Sarah coming unstuck again, but shouldn't have worried.
The air was chilly, perhaps due to the fog (or was the fog due to the chill?), and on one of a few short deviations off the main road, we sat in a fully enclosed bus shelter for a wee while. It was toasty warm inside, and made for a comfortable rest stop.
Around about the location I'd thought I'd been booking a hotel for the previous night, we did a convenience store raid. I was intrigued to notice a DVD available for purchase called "My Hero Academia" - I assume it wasn't about my profession...! Soon after, we made a second stop at a huge pharmacy to get some decent painkillers for Sarah. It was fascinating to note that once you know what you're looking for, the pharmacies stick out like the proverbial - the one we stopped at had a massive billboard above it that was visible from almost a kilometre away!
We took a few opportunities to ride parallel with the main road, passing dozens of paddocks home to more stunning race horses. By this stage, the various horse motifs we'd seen over the last 24 hours had finally established the necessary pattern, and the internet confirmed that Hidaka is a region whose claim to fame is horse breeding.
As approached the flight path for the New Chitose Airport (into which we'd flown a few days earlier), planes became the regular curiosity rather than horses. Sarah was feeling OK, and so during a break I scoped out a destination for the day. We agreed to overshoot the turnoff by about 30km, creating a 60km option for the following day, but also keeping live a couple of more ambitious options.
From the start of our second day, we'd predominantly been riding through forested areas, but we now found ourselves in the industrial centre of the island, passing power stations and massive port facilities.
The skies were busy, with not only passenger aircraft, but also fighter planes, and even a dude on a powered paraglider who seemed just as fascinated by us as we were with him. He was either showing off, or had done a couple of loops to check us out.
I made a couple of ill-fated attempts to get off the main road which while busy with traffic did not feel unsafe. I also almost joined Sarah in the injured camp, coming within a hair's breadth of going over the bars myself. I'd ridden onto a kerb at a traffic light, and chose a lousy spot to rejoin the road. Obscured by some weeds was a kerb gully grating, and a recessed one at that. As my front wheel was disappearing into the hole in the road, I pulled on my handlebars as hard as I could, and remain amazed that I was somehow able to prevent tragedy. In a parallel universe I was picking up teeth off the road.
We arrived at our hotel in one piece, and began to wind down. I'd chosen yet another onsen resort, and upgraded to include the dinner buffet at check-in - it was pricey, but had convenience on its side. On our way to our room, we helped ourselves to some cute attire, which we wore for the remaining duration of our stay (including to dinner and breakfast - rest assured, we were not the only ones doing this)!
We timed our respective onsen visits well, and despite going in starkers (including without a time piece), we arrived back at the room within a minute of each other, and chased this down with a very nice dinner. Last task before getting some sleep was to fish futon mattresses out of the wardrobe, to add to the uniqueness of the experience.
Stats: 108km ridden, one crash narrowly avoided! 17 to 25 degrees.
Day 7 - wrapping up
The dinner buffet had been great, and so too was the breakfast buffet. We were managing to avoid overeating, but did appreciate the unlimited supply of acceptable coffee. In any case, this was a very nice way to start the day, and gave us a chance to talk through various options.
Had Sarah been in finer fettle, without consultation, we'd have taken a mountainous route to approach Lake Shikotsu from the West, and drop into Chitose via the same road we'd left it on a week earlier. The main problem with that plan is that it would not only be a 150km day, with more climbing that we'd done on any day yet. Far too much, under the circumstances!
When scoping (and ruling out) that ride, I'd noticed Lake Kuttara, a nearly circular caldera lake that was said to have incredible visibility. Nearby it was a bear park, which also piqued our interest, and we decided to head that way before returning doubling back and finishing the ride directly to the hotel near the airport.
We took a back road parallel with the main drags (motorway in the hills, and highway closer to the coast) and enjoyed flat riding and occasional shade for the first 20km. A short gravel climb took us to a bridge over the motorway and we emerged onto the road inland not far from the turnoff to the crater lake.
We decided to go to the bear park first, and once there, were directed to the (motor)bike parking area. We locked our bikes together, and headed to the ticket counter. The bear park was accessed via gondola which was a nice activity in its own right.
At the top, we immediately passed by a small enclosure with half a dozen juvenile Hokkaido Brown Bears. The park is within the boundaries of a national park, and quite honestly, I'd imagined bears chilling out in a fenced meadow. I was quite shocked to discover a zoo format that we mostly seem to have moved away from - stark, concrete enclosures offering largely unobstructed viewing, and as a result, creating a pretty horrible (or at least unnatural) environment for their captives.
There were some magnificent bears on display, and Sarah reminded me that my puny handlebar bell had been touted as "protection" against them. As nice as it had been to see the roadside teenagers, seeing one of these whoppers in the wild (especially if angry) would likely be terrifying! The whole place was pretty depressing, even though a display describing the history of the park was interesting, and in particular details about who had been the resident "boss bear" each year.
The one redeeming feature of the bear park visit was its vantage over the crater lake. It did indeed look pretty round, and we agreed it wouldn't be nearly as impressive at lake level, and decided to forgo a side trip on the way home.
We returned to our bikes (safe and sound, as expected), and after grabbing some kai at a convenience store, headed back to where we'd started the day. The bear park had a small replica Ainu village, and I'd asked Sarah if she wanted to visit Upopoy, the National Ainu Museum. There, we learnt more about the indigenous people of Hokkaido, and while we weren't able to stay long, were glad to have taken the time out.
Forgoing the highway along the coast, we hugged the hills and rode through suburbs and gazillions of traffic lights for about 30km.
I'd plotted a route right through the guts of the airport complex, which I was kind of looking forward to, but also hoping wouldn't become a problem (remembering our run in with the law in Taiwan with Brendan and Viv a few years back when we'd run out of bike-legal road...). I did love a few minutes of plane-spotting as we neared the runway itself.
As it turned out, we had no problem passing between New Chitose Airport and the Chitose Air Base - which I correctly guessed had been the commercial airfield before the new runway opened in 1988. I enjoyed views over the apron, and remembered fondly my job mowing grass at Wellington Airport over four consecutive summer holidays as a university student in the mid 90s.
We rolled into our original hotel after about 5 hours riding, but with a very respectable 3.5 hours touristing (or resting) in addition. I sent Sarah up to our room, and then prepped our bikes for the next day's flights back to Tokyo.
That done, I washed up, and as Sarah had done, enjoyed dressing in different clothes than the ones I'd worn for the last week!
We struck out on foot for dinner, and settled on a small restaurant to celebrate the end of our (mostly) successful cycle tour.
Stats: 105km ridden, three tourist attractions visited, and one loop successfully closed. 20 to 27 degrees.
* * *
I'd originally planned to follow this up with a second, longer cycle tour on Honshu. But, Sarah's crash was causing her a lot of pain, and an alternative plan was demanded. Under the circumstances, we decided to spend a couple of nights in Tokyo, exploring on foot to the extent that Sarah was comfortable to, and using the recovery time to consider options beyond it. I'd already booked one night at the airport hotel, which made for a pretty stress-free travel day. The following day after check out, we used the hotel shuttle to get back to the airport terminal, below which was a railway station. There, we managed to get our bike bags onto the airport express into Tokyo Central.
We spent a couple of nights in the city, and had some nice regular tourist activities. We just happened to be in the vicinity of the Imperial Gardens when a tour was about to start, and managed to get a place despite not making a booking.
The next day we visited a few museums, and at a technology exhibit, I was able to geek out over a machine that had been invented to solve a system of nine linear equations. We've come a long way in computational tools in the last 80 years or so!
The time in the city was a great delay tactic, but ironically we discovered that Sarah was happier on a bike than on foot. Nonetheless, the few days off had enabled some recovery, and also a decision as to what to do next. A plan started to solidify, and after check out, I dragged our bike bags back to the railway station where we bought Shinkansen tickets to Nagano. Hosts of the 1998 Winter Olympics, the name was familiar to me, and investigation had revealed it was not only within a couple of hours of Tokyo, but also surrounded by a complex road network which looked like an absolute gold mine.
We would head there not knowing exactly what to expect riding-wise, but it was good to know we'd have options, including an ability to do different things if needed. I booked a hotel very near the railway station for a couple of nights only, during which time we would get the lay of the land.
Sarah's spill had been unfortunate, and there had been some awkward gaps in online accommodation options that had necessitated some hefty days - in all senses, impressive riding by her.
We'd been off the beaten track a lot of the time, and enjoyed the Japanese onsen culture at many of our hotels. It had been a bit of a bummer to be separated, but going solo hadn't prevented us from enjoying the sauna and spa facilities.
The seven days riding documented above totaled about 870km, and from the road we experienced a really nice mix of environments. We had seen bears! And foxes! We'd spent hours surrounded by lush forest, but had also breathtaking mountain and coastal views, sometimes made even better due to spectacular weather conditions. For a change, bikes had been virtually trouble-free. Hallelujah.
I always stress about the logistics of moving around with bikes - although money will solve most problems, it is nice when hotel shuttles and trains are accommodating, and when bike security isn't a concern. As such, it was good to have this half of the trip under our belts, and increasing familiarity with the Japanese way of doing things had us off to Nagano with a sense of confidence.
To be continued...
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