Vol de Nuit (Night Flight)

SR600 Nihon Alps - Second Try!

I recently reread Le Petit Prince by Antoine St.-Exupéry. Of course, St.-Exupéry was a pilot in the early days of aviation, and the narrator of that, his most famous work, is a downed pilot in the desert.

But St.-Exupéry's real existential masterpiece about flying is Vol de Nuit (Night Flight).

Some people look askance at me when I mention that I will do a long ride during, or through, the night.

I say: read Vol de Nuit.

I will never fly a primitive small plane over the Andes at night, but cycling the Akiba Kaido at night may be as close as I get.

A 2016 review of this 1931 novel in The Guardian explains some of its magic. Fabien, the pilot, tells his wife, "It's great leaving at night. You pull the throttle control, face south, and 10 seconds later you turn the landscape round and head north. The city has become just part of the seabed."

Indeed, that was the feeling as I headed onto the climb to Fuefuki Pass out of Chino. Only a few minutes (it took more than 10 seconds, but not MUCH more), through a short tunnel and onto the first turn -- in the dark I turned the landscape around -- and I was alone, the lights fading into the distance. In 15 minutes, Chino and Suwa were ... just part of the seabed.

The Shoreline of Lake Suwa and the lights of its southern Chino-side shore visible below as I climb into the sky

After I emerged the next morning at the Kagura hot spring on the Tōyamagawa, I met a Nagoya motorcyclist. He told me he was afraid to ride his motorbike on Akiba Kaido at night. What if you have an accident, and no one is around? What if a wild animal shows up? A sudden storm?

I laughed. Japan really is a "village society". Of course he would feel uneasy alone at night on this highway. I think many Japanese would feel uneasy alone in the woods, just as many who, as I, hiked and camped in the Oregon cascades as a child, who celebrate and thrive in wilderness, would relish it.

I have ridden Akiba Kaido twice before, I know that you really DO need to watch for deer around Oo-shika (大鹿--the town of "Big Deer") and on the entire descent after Bunkui Pass. And I know that, for the cyclist, Jizo Pass is not a pass, just a signpost in the middle of the climb up to Shirabiso Kogen. I even know where the road is rough or sudden turns dangerous. So, to paraphase Nicholas Lezard in the Guardian: what could be more conducive to reverie than the solitude and majestic spectacle of riding Akiba Kaido at night?

My bike rests at Bunkui Pass, a Japanese "power spot"

Last time I tried the SR600 Nihon Alps, in August 2014, the rain started at the first pass, Fuefuki. It was a downpour by the time I got to Bunkui and beyond.

This time, I saw spectacular stars--Orion, Casseopeia, a bit of the Milky Way--all the way until I was most of the way up the climb to Shirabiso Kogen. A quarter moon appeared over the eastern ridgetop when I was about two-thirds of the way through the night.

I rode Fujimi Pass (970 meters), Fuefuki Pass (1250 meters), Bunkui Pass (1428 meters), Jizo Pass (1314 meters), and Shirabiso pass (1833 meters).

Time for a short rest, but another 600 meters elevation gain ahead!

And solitude! From the beginning of the climb to Bunkui Pass--10 kms before its crest--to Shirabiso, I was passed by only ONE car. I met deer, yes; stray cats, yes; I heard odd whistling animals somewhere in the woods, yes. People and cars, no.

But the rain did come, eventually. A few drops on the last minutes of the climb to Shirabiso after 430AM, then a steady, hard, cold pour. I had been riding in summer gear pretty much, enjoying cool weather and only sweating on the climbs. Suddenly, I was at 1833 meters (over 6000 ft) elevation, in 5 degrees C (40 F) weather and rapidly getting soaked. I knew that I would get no help at the hotel further along the ridge (tried that in 2014), and that the descent to follow was technical, slow, and dangerous. I put on all my gear -- arm and leg warmers, rain gloves, cap, jacket and rain chaps. It was not enough to last for long, with damp sweat already from the climb and hard rain. I immediately set off, picking the fastest, best route I knew off the mountain. In places I could ride under thick green trees, on dry pavement, but then would emerge into a blast of cold water from the heavens.

Shirabiso Pass ... STILL not the top of the climb. 80 meters elevation more aheadl

At the bottom of the hill, I knew I was no longer in danger of hypothermia. It was at least 6-7 degrees C warmer here, and my gear had served its purpose, barely.

I rode further down Route 152 until I found a bus stop with a roof. I could not think clearly there and was not warming, so I went further to another bus stop. This one had walls and a tight sealed door, a sign indicating a box for hikers heading into the mountains above to drop off their route plans upon departure, and it was warm and snug inside.

I quickly figured out that this was just the first band of what would be a major rainstorm, followed by wind, as Typhoon 18 moved up the Japanese archipelago. I had hoped to get a largely dry Saturday and another 170 kms, to Gero Onsen before the rain would start. But it was already here, and would not cease.

So I researched the local onsen, found the Kagura Onsen down the road, enjoyed a nice foot bath until opening time, then a real bath, then lunch, a ride to Hiraoka on the Iida Line, and one of the slowest trains ever to Toyohashi (3 hours), then a shinkansen home.

These free foot baths are not uncommon at hot springs in Japan. They can be life savers as warm feet
spread a glow throughout the body when cold and wet.

It took me multiple tries before everything lined up perfectly and I rode a successful SR600 Fuji in May of 2015, in beautiful, perfect conditions. The SR600 Nihon Alps is harder: bigger mountains, more remote, hotter valleys, and the main climb not even accessible until June. So I am not surprised at a second failure.

This time, as last, the weather made it extremely difficult. Last time impossible, with roads closed and evacuations; this time ... I abandoned too soon to know for sure, but likely impossible. It will not be my last attempt. But next time I will only go with an excellent weather forecast!

The weather just after my return to Tokyo. Still another day of rain ahead in Nagano.

The course is spectacular, with the start at Kobuchizawa, then a climb out of Chino and onto the Akiba Kaido, the passes west of Iida, Norikura, and then Tateshina/Yatsugatake. It remains on my bucket list.

R-Tokyo 1000 km Randonee - to Ise Shrine (and beyond, and back)

I have now had a few days to catch up on my work and sleep since last week's 1000 km randonee.

As in the past, I enjoyed many stretches of the ride and felt elated at finishing the event.  There were many familiar riders on this 1000km.  At the 9AM start, I saw Jun Sato and friends from Audax Saitama/Cascade 1200 etc.  And Higuchi-san and Kozakai-san from our Fleche team were there.

Messrs. Kosakai and Higuchi - R-Tokyo photo along the road

Jun Sato signs in. 

Jun's Calfee S&S coupled carbon speed machine, complet with disk brakes and Enve wheels.
With his Randonneur USA-branded reflective triangle. 

Higuchi-san models a reflective vest and bandana.
I think he learned the "sandwich in back pocket" from Tanaka-san, our Fleche team leader.

The event is way too long for a blow-by-blow trip report, so let me focus on some highlights. R-Tokyo's 500 or so photos can be found here.  There are lots of photos of the riders and their bikes -- which is good since I did not get many.

R-Tokyo photo of me

And the ride results are available, at least for now, here.

1.  Weather.  The weather was fantastic the entire trip.  It was a bit cold after dusk on Odaira Pass at 1300 meters elevation, and a bit hot on Sunday and Monday afternoons, but basically perfect riding weather.  Such good weather is an entirely new experience for me on rides of longer than 600 kms.

Blue sky ... as I take a rest on the climb to Odaira Pass

2.  Climbing.  The course was challenging, as the first 225 kms included over 4000 meters of climbing and the total was near 9000 meters.  I was very fortunate to have done Tsuetsuki Pass and Iida Pass/Odaira Pass last month, so I knew exactly what to expect on those stretches, which were the two highest passes.

Early on the climb out of Chino -- no traffic here

The organizers helped us out some by including a 50+ km flat stretch into Ichinomiya after the end of the hills and before the next timed checkpoint.  This allowed some increase in average speeds and made it easier to avoid a DNF at the checkpoint.  Still, many riders did not make it through the initial 225 kms of the course or dropped out before/at Ichinomiya.

R-Tokyo photo of me climbing Tsuetsuki Pass.  Still smiling.

3.  Backroads.  Even though we did travel some crowded roads, the main designer of the course, Tsumura-san of R-Tokyo, made a great effort to get us off of main and onto back roads.  I wish all Brevet courses were designed like this!  The nasty climb after Nakatsugawa was essentially a 2-3 meter wide track.  Likewise, on the return from Minami Ise toward Ise Jingu, we climbed a tiny road up to Tsurugi Pass, then enjoyed an approx. 20 km descent and emerged at the back of the tourist bus parking lot for Ise Jingu, Japan's most important shinto shrine.  On this entire stretch I think I saw 2 moving cars.

Looking back toward Chino as we start the climb to Tsuetsuki Pass.

And whereas on another brevet I have gone between Iida and Ina in Nagano on one of the main roads, this time I went the opposite direction on a small road that hugs the eastern side of the valley -- minimal traffic and nice views.

Looking across the valley between Iida and Ina, from the quiet road along its eastern side.

4.  The course also managed to pass through or near many sites of cultural or historical interest.  As noted, we emerged at the back entrance of Ise Shrine. We also traveled along old Ise Kaido for a long stretch going both to and from Ise, a street that is lined in many places with beautifully maintained traditional wooden buildings.  On the way south, it was light and I could see that I would really like to have taken more time and looked at some of the buildings.  On the way north, I pulled Midori Shiroki, former Audax Japan chairwoman, who was part of the 7AM start group and looked like she was in some trouble.  At least I helped give her a chance to get back to Aichi in time for the checkpoint cutoff.

Earlier on the way into Inuyama we took a similar "old road".  And passed this historical site (though it must have been dark at the time, or perhaps I just missed it).

(photo from the R-Tokyo collection -- see link above).

And on the way through Shizuoka on our return, instead of just taking the main road (Route 150) between Omaezaki and Shizuoka, we wound our way along minor road, then went through the town of Yaizu and up an "old road" climb near Route 1.

Sunset at Yaizu, Shizuoka 

On the old road next to Route 1 between Yaizu and Shizuoka Cities

5.  Sleep accommodations.  Given the nice weather, and many "kenko land" 24-hour hot spring accommodations along the way, I did not reserve any business hotels.  I ended up stranded when, at Ichinomiya the first night I could not find a good place to sleep.  After an hour at the checkpoint lying down outside, I got cold enough so I woke up and knew further efforts at sleep there would be counterproductive.  I rode on another 30 kms, most of it along the levy beside the Kiso River, and ended up taking another 90 minute nap at a manga cafe just at the east end of Tachita-Ohashi, the bridge we crossed from Aichi into Mie Prefecture.  This, and a sit down breakfast at a family restaurant a little later, were sufficient to get me to the Minami Ise turnaround point, where I again slept for an hour mid-afternoon.

Sunrise day 2, after a nap and just before I cross Tachita-Ohashi, the bridge into Mie Prefecture

The second night I had planned to sleep at the "kenko center" in Nisshin City, just east of Nagoya, that was highlighted by the organizers on the cue sheet and the website for which I had checked. Unfortunately, it was closed at 230AM -- no longer a 24-hour facility.  Another randonneur was sleeping on the front porch under the awning, so I joined him a few meters away.  Again, after less than 90 minutes I got cold and awoke.  The first rider was gone, but a few minutes later someone rode up and I was pleasantly surprised that it was Kozakai-san. He had stopped by his home nearby (I was envious!), and was looking for Higuchi-san, whom he said also had planned to sleep at the Kenko center.  When he called Higuchi's mobile phone, we learned he was just 200 meters up the street, resting in front of a Family Mart.  We went there and found him shivering cold, so the three of us rode on together for an hour or more to Okazaki City, where the two of them entered yet another 24-hour manga cafe and I continued slowly ahead.

I got a number of short rests on the third day, including an evening hour-long nap on a bench on the coastline in Shizuoka City, which made the R-Tokyo photo album, and another pre-dawn nap after Atami Pass/Yugawara.

In all, I got barely enough sleep to get through the event without collapsing or losing all speed.  But it created a massive sleep deficit, so that when I got home at 9AM Tuesday morning, I slept until 6PM, went out to dinner, then slept again from 10PM to 6AM, but still felt a bit sleep deprived through into Saturday.  As with similar efforts, the deep sleep that follows is fantastic.

6.  Atami Pass.  I knew the descent from Atami Pass to the east is steep.  But the route we took, via the Atami museum of art (MOA) was crazy.  I got off and walked at points, it was so steep DOWN.  I thought I would fall off over my handlebars, doubtless the actual terrain seeming even worse in the pitch dark exhaustion of the third night of the ride.  I avoided the inside of curves just to stay on the bike.  It was a painfully slow and painful-on-the-hands descent, even though the concept was good -- to avoid the need for us to descend all the way below Atami Station and then climb back up again over 100 meters to head toward Yugawara.

7.  Yokohama.  After following the coastline as far as Enoshima, the last part of the route went to Motomachi through much of southern Yokohama.  At the time, I thought the organizers were playing a cruel trick, forcing us up so many steep hills and through so much congestion, on an early Tuesday holiday morning after more than 980 kms of effort.  The hills seemed crazy steep and plenty long.  No wonder I have never ridden under the monorail between Enoshima and Ofuna!  No wonder I avoid this part of the world except for the occasional Hakone Ekiden event.  But as I look at the map, I see that the route merely took a relatively short distance between two points.  And as we neared Motomachi, we entered a narrow, old road that reminded me of some earlier parts of the ride, even if it was lined by 5+ story buildings on both sides.

After we reached the goal, we needed to ride a few more kilometers to Minato Mirai (Manyo Club) for check-in.  I had never seen Minato Mirai from the S/SE sides, and it looked spectacular on a sunny day, even better than this from a more southern angle and much closer up:

8.  Results.  There were 76 finishers, 42 DNFs and 24 DNSs.  So this was a hard event, despite the good weather.  I think 1000 km brevets are, next to SR600s, the hardest events.  The time limits are unforgiving.  I finished in 70 hrs and 53 minutes, out of a permitted 75 hours.  But at various points I had less than two hours "on the clock" even though everything was working perfectly.

There were 56 finishers with slower times and 19 with faster times than I.  But of the 56 slower riders, all were within a few hours of me, essentially the same time.  Most of them probably signed up for the post-ride party and decided to sleep a bit before the finish! Among the 19 faster riders, one managed a very fast time of 54 hours 41 minutes.  I saw him zooming UP old Ise Kaido as I was going DOWN it.  Another rider finished in under 59 hours.  Everyone else was within 10 hours of me.  I was just relieved to complete a single long audax event this year.

Part 1 -- Isawa Onsen to Ichinomiya

Part 2 - Ichinomiya to Shima/Minami Ise

Part 3 -- Minami Ise to Nisshin via Ise Jingu/Futami

Part 4 -- Nisshin City to Omaezaki (missing track for last portion)

Part 5 -- Omaezaki to Yokohama via Atami Pass

SR600 Nihon Alps First Attempt -- Flood and Heavy Rain Warnings ... not just Warnings

I left Tokyo as planned on Friday in time to catch an 8PM train from Shinjuku to Kobuchizawa.  The weather forecast had shifted a bit, so it seemed there would probably be heavy rain on Saturday at least in Gifu Prefecture, and it would be cloudy and a bit cooler than feared.  I welcomed the thought of cloud cover -- no way I could complete this ride in straight-on summer heat.  And I added clip-on SKS raceblade fenders to my gear.

True the forecast looked both hotter and wetter than I would like to do this ride, but it is either this weekend or maybe late October.  No other chances this year for an SR600.

Start at Kobuchizawa Station -- proof of my 10:30PM departure. 

When I arrived at Kobuchizawa Station, in Yamanashi, the ground and roads were wet.  Indeed, I had seen the rain shower from the train a few minutes before.  As many people waited for taxi cabs at the station, we were greeted by hundreds, perhaps thousands.  No, not visitors to the summer festival whose lanterns were still visible, but mosquitoes.  I quickly applied some bug spray -- and left them behind at the area around the station.  I was not followed.

The quiet road awaits

I carefully descended down, down and down from the Station to Route 20.  Then onto the familiar climb several hundred meters elevation up Route 20 to Fujimi Pass, and the descent down the Nagano (north side) to Chino.  The traffic was heavy for evening, especially on the other side of the road heading South.  There must have been an evening event in Suwa/Okaya or Chino to form such a line of cars after 11PM on a Friday night.

Chino 7-11. No distinguishing features.

I stocked up on water and food as planned in Chino at the 7-11 just before the base of Route 152.

Then it was up onto the climb to Tsuetsuki Pass.  Within 5 minutes, I was in another world.  Yes, the occasional car would pass, but otherwise it was completely dark, except for the distant lights of Chino down in the valley from the occasional viewpoint.  It was sticky and damp, but not actually raining, yet.  Less than 5 minutes into the climb, I heard an animal shriek very loudly on the hill just above me to the right.  What was that?  Not a beer, or deer.  What kind of bird?  Or perhaps monkey?  I think I have never heard anything so loud in the woods.  But whatever it was, it did not sound like any predator I could imagine, so I ignored it and continued the climb.  I see only one or two small animals crossing the road as I climb, too far away to identify.

Finally, the top of Tsuetuki, at 12:30AM, at least 450 meters above Chino.  Some rain on the pass, and very humid.  Then a gradual, 15km-plus descent to Takato.  I had been warned to be on the look-out for deer on Akiba Kaido at night, but did not see any on this stretch.

TsueTsuki Pass -- in the dark

From Takato, there is a flat/slightly up stretch, much of it along Lake Miwa (behind a dam), before the village of Ichinose and then the 500+ meter elevation climb to Bunkui Pass.

The real rain started on the climb to Bunkui Pass.  Despite my lightweight rain shell, I was quickly soaked through.  I would remain soaking wet much of the next two days.  But even at night, in the mountains, it was a warm, Japanese summer rain.  The net effect on someone like me, who carries plenty of body fat, is POSITIVE.  It cools me.  True, I need to be careful to avoid chafing in the hands, saddle or feet, and need somewhat grippy tires, but this I can prepare for.  Otherwise, rain is far better than riding in the Japanese summer heat, and rare that I actually feel cold, even if soaked through.

Finally, the top.  No cars at all after Ichinose -- and indeed, none on the road the next 50 kms or more, until well after I rejoined Route 152 south of Shirabiso!  The views on this road are spectacular, a river off to the left, so it is a shame to ride it in the dark, or the rain/clouds, or in my case, both.  I could see one or two lights from campsites somewhere off to the left, far from the road, but little else.

Bunkui Pass Elev 1424 meters - a "power spot" of some kind -- the real rain has started

It is a long, gradual and relatively straight descent down the south side of Bunkui, but a much narrower road than after Tsuetsuki, and totally dark.  The rain continues.  I go slower than normal.  And lucky I do so, as two big deer with white rear-ends materialize in front of me in my headlamp beam as I get near the bottom of this hill.   They scatter quickly heading down the road and then, past the end of the guardrail, jumping off to the left hand side. Where am I now?  At the "鹿塩郵便局".  Kashio--literally "deer salt" post office.  Then I pass the "大鹿町役場".  O-shika -- literally "big deer" town hall.  No wonder there are deer around!  This makes much more sense than the deer in the park in Nara.

Now starts the longest uphill I will face until Norikura.  From O-shika, I climb the very narrow (and wet) Route 152 up to Jizo Pass, Elevation 1314 meters.  Of course, this "pass" is just a bend in the road and the climb continues.

Not really a pass, just a turn in the road on the long climb.

Around 1500 meters elevation I must take the left fork in the road and climb up to Shirabiso Pass (Elev 1833).  After a couple of rests on this climb, I arrive at 630AM.  The view of the Minami Alps from here is spectacular and so I had planned to arrive shortly after first light.

Well, the view is not much today.  Just clouds.

Spectacular vie.  6:30AM.

Then I must attack a 700 meter stretch of road along the ridge top, to climb 80 meters up (yes, it is steep!) to the Shirabiso Highland hotel.  I walk up the hill, too steep for more climbing on the bike, and go to the hotel.  Things are stirring inside.  But the restaurant is not open.  The "front" confirms -- no food except for guests.  One motorcyclist is packing up at the side where I have left my bicycle.  He is a bit surprised to see me.  "Anata genki desu ne!"  Yes, I must be "genki" to have climbed up this mountain at this hour.  And come to think of it, I have not seen any cyclists since before Chino.  But instead of "genki" I just feel exhausted.  I eat my 4th mini-sandwich packed from home, and 2nd onigiri purchased in Chino.  Then a loudspeaker blasts.  I jump.  The announcement--for hotel guests--breakfast is now prepared and available in the dining room!  Rise and shine!  I just love these loudspeakers in the villages ... and, it would seem, in the hotels.  What a great way to get in tune with nature on the crest of a spectacular ridge.

Now for the descent -- I should get 30 minutes or more of rest on the bicycle as I head down the forest road to the South and eventually get back onto Route 152, 1000 meters below me.

No rest.  The descent is wet, technical, narrow and very steep.  I passed at least 15 cars parked at Shirabiso Highland, and other 10-15 at a campsite just along the ridge, so I know that cars do come up and down this road.  Plus the motorcycle is ahead of me on the descent, at least a few minutes.  I am on the brakes almost the entire time, worried whether I can stop quickly enough if I should happen upon a car or hazard.  I am out of the saddle with my arms fully extended and butt off the back of the bike to avoid toppling over headfirst on the steeper bits of downhill.  I rest halfway down at a viewpoint, finally able to see across the valley.  There is a village here perched on the steep slope that reminds me of cliff hanging villages elsewhere in the world.  Amazing that it still exists here, not having plunged down the hill in an earthquake or (rain induced?) landslide.

View across the valley half way down Shirabiso.  From one of Shinshu's 100 sunset spots (just like Nozawa Onsen)!

My arms are aching by the time I reach the bottom.  The brakes do not work as well as I would hope in the wet.  I can almost feel the brake pads (and wheel rims) wearing away.  Usually on these long rides I pack a spare set of brake pads (required on some 1000-1200km Japan Audax events!).  But this time, with almost new pads, and never having actually used spares during an event, I forgo them.  By the bottom of the hill, the rear pads are getting noticeably thin and I regret my decision.

This would be a spectacular descent in good weather, but now it is just painful, and long.  And I am wondering -- if any SR600 requires 10,000 meters of climbing, couldn't they have cut out Shirabiso, taking the RIGHT fork at 1500 meters elevation, and saved us all a lot of pain and suffering?

Back on Route 152, I start to make better time.  Just as I approach the village of Wada, where there are signs advertising an onsen/michi no eki, I hear a "ping" from my rear wheel.  One drive side spoke broken.  I pull into the town, remove the broken spoke and adjust the wheel.  The onsen looks open, but no food available at this hour, so I continue on Route 152 and then 418.  Then a right turn onto Pref Route 1 past a reservoir, then up a short, brutally hot and seemingly steep hill past Anan Town Hall, PC 4.

Anan town hall -- almost at the top of a painfully hot, steep little climb

At the top of the hill I turn onto Route 151, which I will take north all the way into the outskirts of Iida.  Up and down and up and down.  Not so steep, yet very fast down sections, but just as many uphills.  I remember this section of the route from last years Kanagawa Audax Okitsu Classic 600 event.

... But the Okitsu 600 continued north up the valley beyond Iida. This time, I must make a left turn and go to "Central Iida".  I guess Iida must have been a castle town, since its "center" is not down by the river, but over 100 meters (elev) up the gradual slope to the west.  Finally Iida Station, my next PC.  It is hot, I am tired, I would like a restaurant. ... but nothing good and fast looks open this Obon weekend near the station, so I grab some Circle K pasta and lie down for 15 minutes on a bench.  Then onto the climb into the western hills.  The weather looks ominous.

Proof of passage -- Iida Station

Ominous weather.  That is the hill I will climb toward Iida Pass and Odaira Pass.

I am grateful for the cloud cover, even some light rain, on the climb.  Then the heavy stuff begins.  I finally get to Iida Pass, then a dip of 100-150 meters (my Garmin's altimeter seems no longer to work).  Then a second climb up to Odaira Pass (a/k/a Kiso Pass).  Just as I start into the dip, the heavens open up.  Wow.  Within seconds, the road is covered in water.  I am drenched (again).  My pace slows and I can barely see through the rain.  This is more like swimming than cycling.  At one point I pass some minshuku and a few homes or shacks.  At one old building, a man is standing on a covered porch watching the rain, and me.  My Garmin dies. Odd that the battery is out so quickly after I charged it a bit before Iida.

An overflowing stream on the climb to Odaira Pass.

I press on and eventually get to a nature park just before Odaira Pass.  My rear wheel is acting up again. Just over the pass I find a covered bench and table, as the rain lets up.  I check the wheels.  Another spoke is broken, also rear drive-side and only one live drive-side spoke remaining between the two broken ones.  ... But with a 36 spoke wheel, I still have 34, and with 5 or so minutes of adjustments, it is still rideable, unless I get one more break.  I really need to check the tension completely before a long ride like this, instead of assuming it is okay just because the wheel is straight.

No view here, ... but just to the east side there would be on a nice day.

The Garmin ... stays dead, at least through the end of the ride.  Back to wet cue sheets and maps protected by plastic.  The rain must have done it in -- I might as well have put the device in a tub of water.  Amazing that, with a simple very thin plastic bag, my iPhone makes it through the entire ride.  The Rixen Kaul ballistic nylon rear bag also does very well, with a simple rain cover and plastic bags for "must stay dry" items inside.

From Odaira Pass I descend again, down, down to the west.  I find my first "nice" weather yet this trip.  Cooler, drier, and even a tiny bit of blue sky visible ... for some minutes.   It is around 530PM.  I am more than 250 kms into the ride, and have done almost half the climbing, and I have used only 19 out of 54 hours.  For the first time I think I may just make it!

At Gero Station -- 745PM.

But more rain falls as I join Routes 256/257 for the last stretch to Gero.  I stop at a bakery/ice cream/coffee shop roadside for a snack, and end up getting a mini-dinner as the only customer.  The baker/shop master is quite happy to help and chat once I tell him a bit about my adventure.  I spill my coffee all over the table when, trying to open up the bread, the plastic wrap pulls away suddenly and my hand grazes the cup.  Lots of apologies from me and a fresh cup appears.  A mini pizza is heated up in the microwave, a bit soggy but hot.  The baker's wife emerges from the back of the house to witness the spectacle.  They are gracious and tell me to "go-yukkuri".  I cannot stay long, I say, and 5 minutes later am back on the bicycle, taking the last baked goods in my pocket and uttering more apologies about the earlier coffee spill and the pool of water that has gathered under me on the floor where I sat.  At least it is not a carpet.

Then only 3 "short" climbs, the highest to 697 meters elev., on the way to Gero.  By the time I get to Gero Station PC, it is 7:45PM.  2+ hours behind plan, but still plenty ahead of the clock to sleep a few hours here and then finish within the limit.  More rain.  An email from my wife about road closures and floods in Takayama, just north of here and my next stop.  Well, I may not make it, but if I get a few hours sleep I can try. I tell the innkeeper my plan, and he says I should just leave my key in the room if I head out after 11PM.  Reception will be closed/locked when I depart.

An email from my wife alerts me to WARNINGS.  There is flooding in Gifu.  Record rainfall in Takayama.  In one place almost 170mm of rain in an hour (almost 7 inches).  And much much more over a 24 or 48 hour period.  Roads closed.  Evacuation notices for several thousand residents already.  And the rain is going to continue at least through Sunday.

I am up at 1130PM on the road around 1145PM.  The SR600 Route take the less-traveled local route 88 out of Gero along the west side of the Hida River, instead of parallel Route 41 along the Eastern shore.  No convenience stores on this side.  So I will need to live on my energy bars for the next few hours.  As I continue, more hard rain.  Unseen rivers roaring down the valley in the dark on one or the other side of the road, or coming down a hill and under the road.  Then no more houses around, just a pitch dark road up the hill through a forest, with water everywhere.  Gifu Prefecture Route 98.

It seems to take forever, this climb.  I get off and rest, walk, ride again.  The energy bars are not doing it for me.  I should have gone off course and gotten at least a convenience store pasta.  Finally, around 215AM, I get to the shrine just before the top of Kuraiyama Pass.  Elev 1015 meters.  640 meters up from Gero.

At Kuraiyama Jinja Photo #6

At Kuraiyama Jinja Photo #7

Finally, Kuraiyama Jinja Photo #8.  Gate and shrine visible!

The rain is harder than I can imagine.  I fumble repeatedly to get a photo of my bike at the shrine gate for the "proof of passage".  If it is raining this hard, I cannot imagine I will make it to Takayama, or beyond to Norikura, at least not on schedule.  I wait under the eves of the shrine, in pitch blackness, for the rain to let up.  15 minutes.  30 minutes.  The rain continues.  The wind picks up so I am now getting wet from sideways blowing water.  I put on my arm covers and full fingered gloves, crouch in a fetal position.  An hour.  No improvement in the weather, so I decide the only thing is to head back down the hill to Gero.

The road looks different than when I came up.  It is still pitch dark, but now it is strewn with debris and running streams where a few hours earlier it had been reasonably clear.

Down in the valley, I pull over for one stop en route, in a sheltered, dry and enclosed bus stop, to warm up a bit during an intense squall, then I cross the river onto Route 41.

This enclosed, dry bus stop would have been a better place to hide out than the shrine up the hill!

Back at Gero, I go straight to my hotel room, unlocked still.  After a hot bath I sleep a few hours.

Getting home was an adventure.  When I mentioned in the morning that I should go to the station and check on trains, the hotel manager told me I could take a 10:26AM express train, and pointed me to a "home center" on the edge of town where I could get a bike cover or tape and XL garbage bags, to try to wrap my bicycle and board a train.

Hida River

Hida River -- I wish I had taken a video to show the incredible water volumes.

I go to the Home Center on the edge of town, return to the station, and get the bike wrapped, one wheel in each bag, another for fenders, and several for the frame.  I struggle with the packing tape I bought (next time: get electrical tape that is easy to tear).  But there is a growing crowd of holiday travelers with little suitcases as more and more vans, buses and taxis pull up from the onsen.  There appears one JR official with a microphone.  The 10:26AM express is cancelled.  Other trains also are cancelled.  There should be a 10:05AM local train -- 3 hours to Mino-Ota, then on to Nagoya ... but it is already 10:15AM and no local train in sight.  One woman on a mobile phone is telling her husband they will not get out at all today unless he drives to pick them up.  I see the crowd, and think of spending 3 hours or more standing on the local train line with all these folks, my wet plastic bags and clothes.  Not attractive.

So I unpack the bike and do what I should have done already, when I headed to the home center.  I head down Route 41 along the Hida River.  Only 110 kms from Gero Station to Nagoya Station.  Several massive downpours along the route.

As I just pass from Minokamo though into Aichi Prefecture -- Kani-shi and Inuyama-shi and beyond, Route 41 becomes a fast limited access highway.  Another prolonged thunderstorm hits, and quickly the road has 3-5 cms of water.  People are looking out their car windows toward me at stoplights, wondering who is crazy enough to be riding FAST on a bicycle in this weather.  I have not seen a road cyclist since just outside of Iida on Saturday.

Finally, Nagoya Station, time to dry and pack the bike to the extent practical, and a quick (1hr 40min) standing room trip to Shinagawa via Shinkansen.  By the end I rode 450 kms and climbed around 6000 meters ... in how much precipitation?  More than on the Hokkaido 1200!  Much more!

More news about the rain and flooding in Japanese (with video) at the linked site (unless and until the link goes dead).  Record setting amounts of rainfall.  Over 20,000 were evacuated from their homes in Takayama-shi.

Gifu Record Rainfall, Flooding and Water Damage -- from NNN via Yahoo Japan

Many, many road closures, including, for a time, Route 158 -- the road between Fukui to the west and Norikura/Nagano to the east of Takayama.  Nomugi Pass was closed.  Norikura on Sunday morning?  I am not sure.  But I did trade messages with Tanaka-san, our Fleche team leader, who was stuck in Takayama on Sunday and ended up not able to make it back to Gero by bicycle.  So I think I made the right decision when I turned around.

Page 1 of Gifu Road Closure List, August 17 1:30PM

UPDATE:  The Garmin Edge 800 seems to be drying out.  I could get it to start by resetting back to the factory settings.  Lost all my data, I fear.  I really would like to get another year or two of usage out of this GPS unit, since I am optimistic that eventually the iPhone/Android apps and dynamo hub-based chargers will be good enough (and the phones will have long enough battery life) to make the Garmin somewhat eclectic and buggy unit superfluous.

UPDATE:  The aero bars worked okay, except after 200 kms I really did miss the room along the bar tops covered by the armrests.  I removed the armrests and found this gave me the best of both worlds -- I can stretch out onto the mini aero bars, but still get full use of the bar tops.  This is potentially a winning set-up for brevets where aero bars are not prohibited and yet I do not need the front Ortlieb bag.  PBP does not allow aero bars.  Some local Audax rules also may not....