30 December 2020

Just a beautiful day on the bicycle


I'm back. Back on the bike. Back into the countryside! 

More than three months since my collarbone break, on December 24 my Japanese orthopedist declared the break "80% healed". It took long enough -- I opted for the no surgery option, and some overuse too soon doubtless is behind the delay, in addition to my "advanced" upper 50's age. But 80% was good enough for me to transition from riding on the trainer indoors and running a few errands in town to ... riding the Rapha Festive 500! 

And, I thought, if I can do the #Festive500, I should be ready for some Randonneurs-Tokyo 200km brevets in January. I will do at least one and, I hope, two.

I am looking forward to 2021 as a year of renewal, of healing, of freedom to ride -- to go when and where I want on the bicycle in this cycling paradise of a country, and even maybe, eventually, elsewhere in the world. I can almost taste it, I am so full of anticipation. 

On the 24th, I rode the trainer in the morning, then hopped on my bike for my Christmas Eve visit to the orthopedist at Keio Univ Hospital in Shinanomachi. After getting his "80%" report, I pottered around Tokyo and stretched my return home, then rode out to dinner and back for a mix of over 75kms virtual/real cycling on the day 1 of the Festive 500. The next day I enjoyed a short 40+km Christmas morning spin with Nils, then on the 26th a slightly longer 70km ride with Jerome, then on the 27th 77kms with Jerome and Peter Y. accompanying them on the early stages of their ride to Yamanakako on the east side of Mt. Fuji -- a 200km plus round trip for them. On the 28th I did more shorter rides in town.  So with 3 days to go, I had logged 325kms toward the Festive 500.

The forecast for the 29th was beautiful -- the low temperature around 4C, high around 12-13C, with mostly clear sky. This would be the day for a big ride -- long slow winter distance, enjoying the countryside that I missed so much.

Only last week my wife had pointed out some "susuki" -- aka "Chinese silvergrass" -- the tall grasses that turn straw-colored in the autumn, with little tufts that reflect the sunlight. Near Tokyo, susuki usually grows in abandoned fields, or as a large weed beside highways. It does not seem highly valued. But I hold a vision in my head of rides in late autumn or early winter along Route 76 in the hills west of Tokyo, on a climb between Lake Sagami and Doshi Michi. If you push it hard on a training ride, these hills are where you start to get tired, and a perfect place for a quick stop to take a sip of water or a bite of trail mix, and snap a photo. When I think of susuki, I think of that stretch of road. But I had not been there in winter in at least five years.

Nils was up for a full day ride; Jerome for a longer half day. So we met at Futako Tamagawa at 7AM and headed up river, out of town. We stopped for coffee (and breakfast) early, then continued on, over "hospital hill" (also known as the climb to Renkoji), then headed out Yaen Kaido. Jerome had a report that Peter Y. was riding with some other friends, already over Yaen Pass and heading for the north side of Lake Tsukui. So we also went over Yaen Pass, then zig-zagged through Minami Hachioji and eventually to the Shiroyama area just before Lake Tsukui, where we had a second rest stop. This zig zag route through the suburban hills also was something I had not done in ages. It is a slower way out of town than some others, so I had crossed it off my list of regular routes long ago, but the road is wide and traffic volume relatively low. This was the prelude. Now the main act.

Nakazawa, Midori-ku


Lake Tsukui from the North shore hillside

The day was beautiful as we climbed past the village and winter vegetable fields of Nakazawa, Midori-ku/Sagamihara-shi, on the northeastern side of Lake Tsukui. Then we took the always lovely Mii-Sagamiko route further along the slope on the North side of the lake. We took the (closed to cars) forest road and passed Peter and his two companions heading the other direction, en route to a coffee appointment with new friends who live in a distinctive, fish-out-of-water Spanish-style house on the North Shore we jokingly refer to as the "Colombian drug lord house", or maybe the "Casa de Pablo Escobar".

Pink fallen leaves -- like an imaginary land -- the closed Tsukui forest road.

Looking west, still North side of Tsukui

Jerome and Nils


We then swooped down the hill to cross the narrow suspension bridge over the lake that brought us back to Matano and Mikage on the other side. This is a regular route -- I've taken photos of the slope we just rode along in nearly every month of the year.
Me on the bridge

We rode along there.

I was feeling good, never pushing, not yet fatigued, and enjoying the freedom of being on the bike, finally getting out to the countryside, with good relaxed company, regular riding buddies. 

The red chili pepper Asian food store on Rte 517.

We headed further west on National Rte 412, then Nils and I turned left onto local Rte 517, a side road through a village then a forest and on to first shown to Laurent by his cycling (and work) mentor Charles, then passed on to the rest of us. We took Route 517 over several steep "bumps" and eventually joined Route 76 at Fujino. A left turn and we were soon on the climb to ... my susuki fields. There they were, the grasses glowing in the weak winter sun, as they had in years past.

My susuki




We were down the other side of the slope quickly and to Doshi Dam with its jade colored waters, then another climb up (with a left turn off of Rte 76 for the short connector back to Doshi Michi, National Rte 413, the planned climb for the Tokyo 2020 Olympics Road Race -- signs marking the route along the roadside looking a bit less than fresh, but they should make it through the winter and to next summer. The view back down the valley was spectacular.

Doshi Dam




Looking back toward town down lower Doshi Michi

Heading back in Doshi Michi is always fast and joyful -- plenty of twists and turns, a few dips followed by short uphills one can power through with 10-20 pedal strokes. But this day we had enough of a headwind to slow us down and make us work a bit. We decided to stop for a real lunch at Zebra Coffee and Croissant after we got back to Lake Tsukui. 
Zebra -- full of socially distanced cyclists!
(Many bring their bikes inside here.)

A massive "Zebra gratin" for lunch.

Getting back on the bike, I felt as if I had already done two rides, the morning one with Jerome, then the scenic mid-day ride, and now we started our third--the trip back into town. It was uneventful, our pace quickened now that we were on lower, flatter ground and had left most of the headwind behind. We made decent time and decided to go all the way to the mouth of the Tamagawa, or at least to the entrance to Haneda Airport, to add a few more kilometers. By now, late afternoon, the sun was low and the paths along the river full of runners and walkers. The runners all seemed to be wearing harnesses with water bottles on each side ... maybe training for a trail running or longer distance event? It's definitely Tokyo Marathon training season. 

Nearing Kawasaki along the Tamagawa

The light of the fading day was soft and lovely, as we reached the Torii outside of Haneda. Nils headed back up river toward his home, while I headed along the Bay toward mine. In the end, a ride of 165 kms, or just over 100 miles.  The Strava track is here

At Haneda Airport


One of the canals of Shinagawa Ward 

This year has challenged the world. Many have lost much. But there is hope. This ride was a perfect but understated way to transition toward the hope of a new year. It was such a good ride, I decided it would be my last of the year. So on the 30th I just got on my trainer and "rode" the final few kms of the Festive 500 indoors. I did not want to dilute the memory of my susuki, not yet.


16 November 2020

Wheel Rebuild - Imezi 167

I have really been enjoying my Imeji wheels! Absolutely zero issues with them the first 15+ months of use, and they ride very fast. I have barely touched them ... cleaned the DT Swiss 350 rear hub once, and evened out the spoke tension once or twice. 

New rims, new decals!

On my ill-fated September ride along the Mikabo Super Rindo in SW Gunma (where I broke my collarbone after hitting a rock high on the ridge, early in the 800+ meter elevation descent toward Uenohara and Route 299), I ended up riding down the rest of the hill without realizing that my right front brake pad had worn away entirely and the metal brake shoe was pressing against the rim. I heard the noise, but in the aftermath of the injury, in dark, and rain, I did not process what was causing it, nor that I could have so easily resolved it. Heck, I had even brought spare brake pads ... but did not use them.

The damaged braking surface ...


The truing stand

Anyway, even the braking surface of the carbon Imezi 167 deep rim wheel could not withstand that long a descent with scraping metal. It is no longer functional -- peaks, valleys, warped sections -- nothing like it should be.  I contacted Imezi (Andrew) and they offered to sell me a crash-replacement. I told them that I only needed the rim, and could build it up myself. No problems. They immediately shipped me a replacement rim, for half price (¥15,000 plus tax). Great service.

Measuring and then adjusting to even spoke tension is a long-standing, trouble-free wheel

The last wheel I rebuilt was in March 2019 upon return from Tasmania. An H Plus Son aluminum clincher rim had finally worn out after years of service, on a wheel I had originally built. The Imezi rebuild was, for me, a rare opportunity to assemble a wheel with "straight pull" rather than "J" spokes, in a "radial" rather than "3-cross" pattern. The hub, spokes, and even spoke nipples, were all still fine, lots of life left in them, so I just stripped off the rim tape then carefully removed the spoke nipples from the old rim, then laced, trued, and tensioned the new one.

These deep carbon rims are far stiffer than an aluminum rim. But it still requires care to make sure the wheel is truly round, centered left/right, and that the spoke tensions are uniform. Anyway, my wheel skills came back quickly, and now I have a "like new" wheel. 

If only my collarbone would heal as fast as the rim can be replaced! I should be back in the saddle next month ... but for now my only rides are on the trainer!

24 October 2020

The Bicycle's Too Damn Expensive

Earlier today I came across a video review of a Specialized S-Works Aethos 2021 road bike. It looked nice -- a sophisticated paint job, clean lines, and the reviewer said it was straightforward -- round tube shapes, no special integrated stem or bars. Just a road bike, taking the geometry and ride feel of a Specialized Tarmac and putting it in a much more approachable form, for non-racers. Of course, it is super lightweight, under 15 lbs.  I was thinking ... wow, this looks really nice and, if I were to get another carbon road bike someday, maybe it would be a contender.

Then I heard the pricetag. 

$1250. 

No, wait a minute. Add another zero.  

$12500. 

So they stripped the Tarmac down to something minimal and relatively basic, that you can repair yourself, ... but kept the pricetag.

 Ouch. No thank you.



16 October 2020

If It's Not the Japan Odyssey What is It? The Tyler Hamilton 2003 TdF Commemorative Ride!

The pandemic has severely limited entry into Japan by foreigners since April this year. Until September, the basic rule was, if you are not a Japanese citizen and you leave, don’t plan on being let back in! There were some narrow humanitarian exceptions, and the policy has gradually relaxed, but a September event like the “Japan Odyssey”, with 20-30 cyclists showing up from abroad, many first-time visitors to Japan, and riding obscure passes all over the country, was not in the cards. 

So one Tokyo expat, Andrei O., announced in May that he wanted to do a “Not the Japan Odyssey” ride from September 19, with 12 days to cover 12 checkpoints mostly on mountain passes, starting and finishing in Nihonbashi and riding all over the eastern half of Honshu between Gifu/Ishikawa and Aomori. I had met Andrei once, at the Mt. Fuji HC last year, but never ridden together. But I did notice on Strava that his rides seem to explore lots of hidden roads … places near, but different from, routes I have ridden in the past, and that did not even know about. I was intrigued, and Jerome and I decided we might join the first few days. 

It seems that Andrei was not really interested in organizing, just wanted to ride. Were the checkpoints (PCs) really reachable? He said he had not ridden most of them. And he noted that the spirit of the Japan Odyssey is one of surprise – the occasional surprise closed road, landslide, need to go around and approach a pass from the opposite side of the mountain or carry a bike over a stream. He seemed to think better of making this a big event. 

So Andrei changed the Facebook group name to “Tohoku Cycling Journey” and added a separate “event” page for the actual ride, and went nearly radio silent. That threw most who had joined his “Not the Japan Odyssey” Facebook page completely off the scent. Several months later, a week or so before the big day, someone posted “is this really going to happen?” Andrei replied that yes, he and his buddy M-san would be going. I piped up that Jerome and I would join the start and tag along for a day or two, or three. 

Jerome’s and my plan was to ride the first two checkpoints, CP1 on the Mikabo Super Rindo in SW Gunma, nearly 1500m elevation on a gravel road, and CP2 at Kurosu Pass on the Nagano/Gifu border, south of Mt. Ontake (the volcano that took many hikers’ lives when it suddenly erupted during peak vacation time a few years back). Then through Gifu and on to Kanazawa and perhaps to CP3 on the west side of the Noto Peninsula (for the memories of distant past Tour de Noto rides), then hop the train back to Tokyo.

Jerome and I did minimal planning (this time of year it would be not too cold, hopefully not too high, rain would be the worst risk, and we would check into business hotels en route). But it looked as if the leftover road washouts from Typhoon 19 last October would be a major barrier. Many of the roads up to the Mikabo Super Rindo were closed, and many roads from there on to Nagano (Route 299, Budoh Pass, etc.) were also closed. We decided to tag along with Andrei and M-san and hope for the best. In the worst case we could backtrack and we knew several routes via Karuizawa to Nagano were open. 

At Nihonbashi - Start

The ride start was at 7AM from Nihonbashi. Frankly, I would rather start earlier on a long event, and rather head up the Tamagawa, but Nihonbashi is the traditional “milepoint zero” for roads in Japan. It was the center of commerce for the Edo period, and many roads still show distance in terms of the kilometers from Nihonbashi. Besides, we wanted to ride with Andrei and M.-san at least at the start.

No traffic but lots of traffic lights.

Heading out through Bunkyo-ku

We met, and headed out a few minutes after 7AM. We headed NW along Kasuga Dori. I was pleasantly surprised to know that it has a REAL bike lane for several kilometers, through Bunkyo-ku. There were actually parking spaces on the street side of the lane, with the lane unobstructed. This made me think that places like Otsuka and Myogadani might be pretty good for bicycle commuting to central Tokyo, even if the lane ends before you get to the Tokyo Dome area.

Anyway, we rode under the Tokyo Metro Expressway (Route 5) for awhile … the same road I drove when heading to/from Nagano this summer repeatedly … and joined the Arakawa around Toda, Saitama.

Finally along the Arakawa




From there we were on the Arakawa levy and going through parks and parallel roads, a route that “East side” Tokyo cyclists know well. As familiar to them as the Tamagawa is to me.  A Japanese rider who knows Andrei was waiting for us along the river and rode with us for 15-20km or so, pulling a fair bit. We made it past Kumagaya and stopped quite awhile (40 mins) for food/drink/rest at a “Mini Stop” north of Fukaya (the town famous for its onions, for Eiichi Shibusawa, soon to replace Yukichi Fukuzawa on the 10,000 yen note, and as the home to Akagi, manufacturer of the “GariGari-kun” ice cream bars that held its price at 60 yen for 25 years.

Rain!

Jerome was complaining about an issue with his right pedal. It was not “true” somehow but he felt his foot shifting position. It looked fine when we checked and could not find any problem so we continued on. Eventually we went through Yorii and up through Nagatoro, before turning off and taking local route 13 over a short “two hump” climb and down to Onishi, over the Saitama/Gunma border. Jerome and I realized that we had briefly joined the SR600 Fuji course. 

Second convenience store stop -- Gunma

After a second 40-minute convenience store stop, we headed west toward Kanna and Uenomura. Following a short climb up to the dam / reservoir, Jerome was having more difficulties with his right pedal. He took a closer look and realized that it was NOT the pedal that was the problem. The entire right side of his Shimano Ultegra crankset had started to come apart.

The end of Jerome's crank, and his ride

After some time on Google Maps we had a plan – Jerome would head for Takasaki and stop at the bike shops most likely to have a replacement crank. I would hope to meet him that evening at the hotel. If he needed to go back to Tokyo, and could find a replacement, we could meet the next morning at a shinkansen stop (Ueda?).  For the time being, I would continue with Andrei and M.-san. 



So three of us that headed on and around 2PM we turned away from the Lake and headed up onto the Mikabo Super Rindo.  We climbed up and up, then were on top of the ridge, and rode up and up, and down and up and down, along the top of the ridge.  M.-san was going a bit slower now, with his loaded bike, and Andrei and I waited repeatedly. I was feeling decent, better than earlier in the day, and thought perhaps that climbing practice in Nagano in August and early September had paid off! 

By this time in the day, I had learned that Andrei is 24 years younger than me, and that last year he completed the Transcontinental Race. Andrei said he was impressed that I was still doing this kind of crazy ride “at my age.” … An embarrassed pause. Actually, I hope I can still do Audax at least another twenty years. Maybe I will even try the Transcontinental sometime? Or the TransAm, its longer equivalent that starts in Astoria, Oregon? I

(The Transcontinental is a nearly 4000kms ultra-endurance, self-supported race across Europe that includes plenty of high passes and lots of gravel, with no help from other riders, friends, or family. Okay, Andrei finished around five days behind Fiona Kolberger, the winner, but still this is a very impressive feat, and I could see why he was confident that he could do the 12 days of this plan. The results for TCR07, the 2019 version, are here.






Anyway, these earlier, Eastern sections of the Super Rindo were in very good shape, and we passed only a few cars or small trucks all the way up to the end of paved section. Highly recommended! We passed 雨降山 – Rainfall Mountain. We read about the tradition of the “three bundles of rain”(三束雨)of Mikabo, known for lightning and wind. As we climbed above 1000m elevation, we passed signs for 投げ石峠 – Rock Throwing Pass. So rain, thunder, wind, and falling rocks? Hard to believe as we were on smooth dry pavement.


Taking the route up and along the ridge had taken a long time, with lots of twists and turns. But most of the roads up the hill that we passed as we went along the ridge were blocked off. “Closed – Not Passable.” So we were fortunate to have chosen to go onto the Super Rindo at its Eastern end instead of trying a short-cut climb further west in Kanna–they were all closed. But it was getting late in the afternoon. By the time we got to the gravel, it was almost 5PM.


The gravel stretch was around 13kms, with a short, paved section about 2/3 of the way through. The road was awful. In many places, it was more like a dry streambed. And it climbed – up around 350m elevation gain over the first 4km. It was very slow going. I got off and walked where I was really worried about falling off. My 700x28 tubeless tires, amazingly, did not go flat. I would recommend 650x40 or wider tires on this road. 

Actually, I would not recommend you take this road at all. Andrei had warned that it was nasty, and he had ridden it only a few years ago -- before last year’s typhoon which caused all the surrounding road closures. Tom S. also told me it was awful when had ridden it in past years. 

We did not see anyone after 4PM or so. And we were entirely alone on the gravel section. There were plenty of postings to “watch out for bears,” but we did not see any. I guess we were noisy enough on the gravel to send any critters away.





Like riding a riverbed

After we got up the gravel climb to nearly 1500m elevation, and well along on the flatter middle section, Andrei’s tire lost air rapidly. He found a big hole in his rear tubeless tire’s sidewall, and his sealant would not fill it. I gave him my “Respawn” IRC sealant and he injected it … and it blocked the hole enough so that he was able to pump up the tire and ride a bit further.  But quickly the tire was again losing air. Pumping it again and riding further did not help. And it was getting dark. Eventually he gave up and put in a tube. The two stops and struggling with sealant and tubes … ate up another half hour. I regretted urging him to try the Respawn when he had been ready to put in the tube earlier. By now we were riding in the dark on the last gravel stretch, which was a bit scary. At least we had no more steep climbs -- it was generally down and not too steep. I was learning to anticipate the worst ruts in the road and quickly cross reaching them and ride on the “uphill” (up river?) side where possible. 

In the dark, we finally finished the gravel and arrived at 八倉峠 Yōkura Pass. We had planned to descend a road to the west, then down the north side of the ridge and to Nanmoku. That road was closed. Do not pass. Landslide. But at least there was ONE way down, on the south side of the ridge. It would have been a nightmare to go back over the 13km of gravel again in the dark and wet.

Descending to the South would put Andrei and M.-san WAY behind their first day plan. They were already at least an hour or two late, because of the slow progress on the rindo/gravel. And it would take another hour or more to get west through Uenomura and take the tunnel UNDER this ridge and arrive in Nanmoku. From there they had planned to go west, via Taguchi Pass and down into Nagano to finish the first day.  At this point, I was just hoping I would be able to find a place to sleep. They had camping gear. I had my credit card. 

It was dark. Did I mention it was raining now? I was waiting for wind and lightning, as the place names earlier had warned, but dark and rain, with an 800m drop along 10km of mountain road, were enough even without wind or lightning.

Anyway, we headed down the narrow, winding to the South. The surface was paved and not bad, but there were plenty of rocks and leaves on the road in places. Andrei and M.-san were ahead and I was trying to be a bit cautious and follow.

The white rock is visible with a flash from this side ... descending, was not visible

About 1/3 of the way down, still over 1000m elevation, I did not see a rock in the road and hit it with my front tire. The rock was the size of a small fist, but in the dark and damp blended in the same color as the road and leaves. The front of my bike slid out to the right – swoosh – and I went down hard on my left side, landing on my shoulder, driving it into the tarmac. 

If a tree falls in the forest and you are close by, you hear it. I did not go down silently. It did not feel good. Broken bone? Bad bruise? Other? Anyway, Andrei and M.-san heard and quickly came back and were at my side. 

After I collected my wits, I got up. The good news was that I could stand. I could still move my left arm, even if I could not put weight on it without a lot of pain. My legs felt as if I had tensed up and pulled muscles on both inner thighs. … 

We talked about the options. Ambulance up here? Not really needed as long as I could ride downhill slowly. Call for a ride from Tokyo? Jerome, or perhaps even my wife, to come out to the middle of nowhere in the dark of night? None of the options seemed good. 

But the bike seemed in working order. After I got over a bit of the shock, I got on the bike and we continued down the hill. If we could get lower down, make it to the valley, we might find lodgings and shelter at least. 

After  5-10 minutes more descending, the airhad came out of my front tire. The front rim was making a noise when I braked by now. We stopped and Andrei helped by changing my tire and putting in one of my tubes. M.-san tried to call minshuku that showed up on Google Maps. No rooms. They were either closed permanently, closed this year (pandemic), or full (holiday weekend Saturday night). It was raining HARD now, so we waited a few minutes longer under the protection of some trees overhanging the road, then continued down. 

Finally we were at the bottom, at Route 299. After more failed attempts at phoning lodgings, we decided to head west. It was only 10-15kms to the tunnel over to Nanmoku, and along the way there were some rest stops were at least we could be dry and out of the rain – a Michi-no-eki. We would go through some areas of village/town as well.

After a couple minutes I saw a familiar hot spring on the left of the road – the "Villa Seseragi", a small hotel and onsen that looks as if it is probably run by the town or another public body. Not high end, Italian styling on the building -- sticks out like a sore thumb in the daytime. The day spa was closed, but I went inside to the hotel lobby, with my Covid-19 mask, and spoke to the night deskman, who called his manager out. I pleaded that I was injured, and as a result we were not going to make it to our planned lodgings, and did they have anyplace we might sleep? As it turned out, they had one tatami room held in reserve that would fit all three of us. But we could not use the hot spring bath until various reservations were done. And no food (except a few tidbits they gave us. I got the distinct feeling that the kitchen had set aside an evening snack for the two of them, and they had sacrificed for us to consume. 

Anyway, we took turns bathing in the tub in our bathroom. My shoulder was throbbing a bit, but still no visible bruising – that takes longer. And it did not hurt so badly as the time I broke my ankle, nor was it obvious to me whether it was a break or just a very bad bruise--damage to the muscles and other tissue in the shoulder area. I suspected it was a broken collarbone, but how would I know? I have never broken my collarbone before. Indeed, this is one of the MOST likely bones to break cycling. So I am always a bit embarrassed in the company of other cyclists to never have broken mine.

There have been lots of cyclists who break a bone and ride on to finish a stage. Just last week, 2018 winner of the Tour de France and a pre-race favorite for this year's Giro d'Italia, suffered a crash at the BEGINNING of a stage when he wiped out after his bike hit a rolling water bottle. Nothing he could do. Bam, he slid and was down. They were in the "neutral zone" of a downhill start through a town, not even racing yet! Anyway, he kept riding and made it to the end of the 150km stage, including up the last 18km, 1200m elev climb to Mt. Etna. X-rays revealed that he was riding with a cracked pelvis. He lost 12 minutes over the leaders.

But the most impressive ride with a broken bone I recall was Tyler Hamilton in the 2003 Tour de France. Tyler broke his -- similar location to my break -- on the first day of the 21 stage race. He insisted on continuing. Everyone thought he would stop once he made it through the first week and to a rest day. Some competitors suggested he was faking it. Nope. He let us doctors speak directly to the public. The doctors told him that he would not cause any permanent damage by riding, as long as he could stand the pain. The team adjusted his bike position to make it a bit more comfortable, gave him a compact crank so he could spin up the hills. Later on he even WON an incredibly difficult mountain stage in the Pyrenees, 198km. He finished the Tour, placed 4th that year. Respect. Of course, later on he fell into disrepute and his career ended with the Lance Armstrong doping scandal.

Andrei and M.-san planned to depart VERY early (4AM? 430AM?). I told them I would sort it out. I was not in shock, I had ridden. The next morning I would either ride to the station, or get a taxi or shuttle bus and make my way back, seeking medical attention if needed but planning to wait until I got to Tokyo. 

At least I could sleep some. I woke briefly as they packed to leave, then slept another 3+ hours. Another hot bath. Got partially packed up, then lay down again to recover some energy. The phone rang at 10:02AM. “Sorry but we have a 10AM checkout.” 

This place was DEFINITELY not run by the private sector. A 10AM checkout on Sunday morning seemed, well, very Japanese, almost Spartan. Like the village loudspeaker blasting outside at 6AM in a village where I once stayed for a cycling race near Mt. Fuji …

Anyway, I told them I would be out and down in 10 minutes, somehow got fully dressed and my gear together and made it down through the hotel and to my bike. It was not easy, but I got things stowed on the bike and mounted up. If Tyler Hamilton could ride 20 stages of the Tour with a broken collarbone, then I could get to the train station!

20 TdF-sized stages of pain

Fortunately, once I was in the riding position … nothing hurt and I could go, slowly. I was hungry (no breakfast either) so decided to head UP the valley toward the michi-no-eki. I had not been through Uenomura in a few years, and was surprised to see a brand spanking new, deluxe version of a michi-no-eki appear after a few kms, on the left side of the road. I stopped for some takeout food (a donburi that tasted delicious, some bread), the restaurant not yet open. After some rest at a table out back, watching people stroll along the river below, I figured I had better not dawdle more, in case the rain picked up as forecast. I got back on the bike and headed up the valley. The closest station was Shimonita, around 30kms away, where I could get a train to Takasaki, then hop the shinkansen back to Tokyo. I still felt decidedly better while riding the bike than any other position – standing, walking, sitting, lying down.



Sunday morning fireman practice in Uenomura

The new Michi no Eki

Soon I came to the OLD michi-no-eki. Except, of course, it is called the “kawa-no-eki” since it backs onto the river. Actually, the new facility ALSO backs onto the river. But better than calling them “east” and “west”. Or 1 and 2. Or Old and New. Anyway, it is a lot smaller than the new one, but a lovely setting. There was someone grilling fish (ayu), with a big tank full of live fish just in front of him. I ordered one, and enjoyed another rest at the back looking at the river. 

At the old Kawa-no-eki





I still felt better ON than OFF the bike. Back on and heading up the valley, I made a right turn and rode up the 3km hill to the tunnel entrance. I recalled struggling up this hill, totally exhausted, on past brevets and other rides from Tokyo, but somehow, despite the injury, it was easy now, at a slow pace and with only a few kms under the belt so far. The tunnel is a slight downhill when passing from South to North, well-lit, smooth pavement, and very low traffic volume – only a couple cars in nearly 4kms under the mountains.  Then it was a quick descent. I stopped for lunch at the Oasis Nanmoku, another michi-no-eki with a lovely view of a different river. It took forever to get a bowl of ramen, and I regretted the time lost. I did need to get back to town and see a doctor, after all!

Oasis Nanmoku

Entering Shimonita. It's the water.

I got to Shimonita and its sleeping train stop JUST too late for it to be realistic to rinko my bike … especially in my condition. The train would leave in 3 minutes. So rather than wait 30 minutes, I decided to ride a bit further. I went another 10km to Tomioka, rinko’ed my bike there, and caught the next train.

Safely at Tomioka Station

The most difficult part of the trip was carrying my rinko’ed bike on my right (non-injured) shoulder for what seemed like 500 meters from one Takasaki train station through the JR station and up to the shinkansen platform. But I made it, got back to Tokyo, and my wife took me to the Keio hospital emergency room. This is a very limited service – nothing like a U.S. hospital emergency room. And they charge an extra fee on top of the standard government rate, I think they said it was for all the anti-Covid preparations. 

Ronny Jackson, MD -- 2013 signature back when Obama visited Tokyo
(back before Ronny Jackson crashed and burned in the service of Donald Trump)

Anyway, there was just one other patient and several family members checking in. Since my wife had called ahead, and I already have my paperwork in their system from a previous physical exam there, I was in and out in 30 minutes or less. The resident confirmed my collarbone was broken, gave me a sling, and set me up for an appointment with the orthopedist – their shoulder expert, Dr. Matsumura – later in the week. Incredible service.

On that Thursday visit, I got a CT scan. The doctor advised that the bone was well-positioned, and the odds were good (75-80%) it would heal well without surgery and, even if it did not, for most people it would not bother their daily lives.  For me – cycling, swimming, playing a string instrument, I would be bothered at lot if it did not heal well.  He said that given its location near the shoulder end of the collarbone, he said it was 微妙—a close call—some people would do surgery, especially athletes, that would push the chances of proper healing up to 95%, but involve two surgical procedures (the second to remove the plates). He said if it were him, he would try to let it heal without surgery. Anyway, three weeks later, on my third visit, it seems that the bone pieces are starting to reconnect.  His main advice this time was “don’t do anything BAD”! If I can follow that advice, it will heal without surgery.

Starting to heal -- the break is still visible about 1cm from the end on the top and 3cm from the end on the bottom of the collarbone (uppermost bone in the x-ray)!

Dr. Matsumura also told me that I can start to ride on a fixed trainer … so I need to get my winter trainer setup, ahead of the usual schedule, and stop gaining weight!

By the way, Andrei completed the 12-day ride, solo much of they way. Incredible. Jerome got a new crank back in Tokyo, and rode to Nagoya a week later, via the mountains. M-san rode with Andrei the first 3 days, but Andrei said they went separately after that -- different speeds, styles, and perhaps goals.

My Strava tracks for the two days are here and there