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.

Riedberg -- P.E. Bremen Chapter goes to the Alps

Well, the Tour de France have left the Pyrenees and it will be awhile yet before the peleton gets to Mt. Ventoux and then the Alps ... and how long can one remain interested in watching a group of brightly colored cyclists schooling like fish down roads with aerial shots of hay fields cut so that they form the shape of two wheels and a bicycle frame, or the like?  Yes, it is pretty, but it eventually gets old.

So for relief it is very nice to get a report from Positivo Espresso founder MOB on his cycling in the German/Austrian border regions.

He has even written in English ... and despite several years back in Germany his English is still easier to read for me than German translated to English via the "Google Translator" function in Chrome.

The Book of the Transalp 2011

For each day of the Transalp we were provided by Schwalbe with this adhesive elevation profile strips which we would attach to our frames and which would guide us through the day. without them, I wouldn't have made it.

Here are the official videos from the Transalp day by day.

Day One

Day Two

Day Three

Day Four

Day Five

Day Six

Day Seven

They had one cool song at the start of the race, something about "Jungle Jive", anybody any idea?

I also will try to get us on the official link list of the Transalp home page. Many blogs are listed there, but most of them are too.... serious I think.

And the Winner is ....... The Clock !

After Ravenna David and me went to two of the most cycle unfriendly cities in Italy.

The first one was the medieval town of Urbino, located inland of Rimini on the Adriatic coast. It is not that the inhabitants of Urbino have something against cyclists. Most of them are young, as an university for the fine arts is located within the walls of the city and they are most friendly to every visitor. It is just that the town was built on the top of a hill and almost every road has an gradient of 20% or more. Unfortunately I have deleted by mistake all data from my camera SD card, so I have to take a photo from the net to provide the necessary impression.

But I guess that will give the general idea of the city's layout. Once a child was presented a bicycle in the town by its parent for his birthday. He leaned it against a wall to thank his father. When he turned his head again it was gone and some seconds later one could hear a strange sound beyond the city wall far below. So the legend goes. It is the Mortirolo of the cities. David and me indulged in arts and culture there but our time was cut short by the deadline for the rental car return in another town in Northern Italy.


When we arrived there I thought that the tarmac of the major roads might be a little bit too wet for my taste. Also no cyclists were seen in the streets. Later we learned that cycling is indeed not allowed within the city. As is roller skating, skateboarding and scooters. Instead the town has two major themes if you look at the buildings:
Ground floor: Decay, mould and mortality
First Floor and above: Art and culture.


Yes, David and me went to the town to select the Positivo Espresso Art Prize Winner 2011. And we are proud to announce that the winner is:


CHRISTIAN MARCLAY


For his groundbreaking artwork: THE CLOCK. which is displayed at the Bienale 2011.
If you would like to have more info about THE CLOCK, please check out these Links:


The Clock at the Bienale
As explained by the BBC
As shown (excerpts)
The Artist at Wiki

After we have completed this task with great bravado, we spend another night in our **L hotel and parted ways the next day. During the course of two weeks David and me have spend almost every minute of each and every day and night together. We were only separated when we proceeded with different speeds during the Transalp race and when we went to places where men tendentiously go alone to. Not once we fought or argued during these two weeks and during the race we mostly worked perfectly well together for mutual success. Thank you, David. So here is a snippet from Pasolini's movie "The Canterbury Tales" which I dedicate to our  Alp adventure.



Rainy season in the Austrian Alps

The Japanese rainy season, especially towards the end of June when it is not only wet but gets also unpleasantly hot, is the perfect excuse for escaping to the more moderate climates of the European Alps. Or so David thought when he signed up for the TransAlp. So far the weather seems to be holding up in Sonthofen - sunny start this morning as the last minute photo proves, and a forecasts which suggests improving weather from today. So far so good.

My own escape was somewhat less lucky. I arrived in Munich on Thursday evening, to make it through pouring rain to Kitzbuehel, in the Tyrolian Alps. Rain throughout the night and into the morning. Perfect excuse to get a couple of phone conferences done, and a lot more e-mail. But wait - was this what I had come for to Kitzbuehel, a couple of days early before starting to teach a training programme from Sunday?

It finally stopped raining in the late morning and I was immediately on my bike for a short ride under still threatening skies. I managed to stay dry and returned for lunch.

In the afternoon another try. The sun was even lurking through the clouds occasionally. I went for the most famous hill climb course in Austria, the Kitzbueheler Horn. The start is just 10 minutes from my hotel. Over 7km it is a relentless climb at usually 12 percent, sometimes more, from 700m altitude to 1,670m.

Many famous riders have put up best times here, e.g. Cadell Evans (not yet on his Canyon). All nicely documented on a "Wall of Fame".

From the Alpenhaus it is possible to climb another 300m at similar gradient to the very top of the Kitzbueheler Horn. I did this twice last September and the 360 degree view from the peak is simply astounding, in particular in good weather.

But today the weather was not good, and in fact no sooner had I reached the Alpenhaus did some very cold clouds come blowing down from the peak. I plunged down the road in a desperate attempt to escape, but one kilometre down the rain caught up with me. From there it was a miserable descent: 900m down in 8 degree cold rain, wearing summer clothes (but even something warmer would not really have made much of a difference), desperately grapping the breaks to maintain a safe speed yet make it through this hell as fast as possible. I was dreaming of a hot bath back in the hotel...

This was not the greatest start to my stay in Kitzbuehel. As we say in German, "vom Regen in die Traufe", quite literally!

Again rain through the rest of the day and throughout most of the night. The next morning looked a little more promising, but still with threatening skies and a supposed 35% chance of rain. Good enough to give it another try, again without venturing too far before the afternoon, when rain was forecasted once more.

I chose a loop around the mountain range towards the northwest of Kitzbuehel, facing the famous "Wilder Kaiser". Google maps suggested it was possible to avoid the main roads for most of the loop, following side roads. Indeed, this was possible, but as always in Austria, many of those side roads turned out to be unpaved.

In fact, at some point the cycling path became a hiking path! Impossible to tell from google maps, making this section appear like a nicely paved back road...

I ended up doing a fair amount of riding on unpaved paths and even hikling, just as last year. Unlike Japan, most of the unpaved paths are easily passable by road bike. They tend to be so well maintained that it is possible to even climb up many unpaved mountain roads. But of course they add to the wear and tear of the bike, especially the tyres. My first back tyre on this bike lasted for only 2,000km before the top of the tyre came off in places. In Japan, I always end up wrecking my tyres through side cuts from sharp stones on rindos. Not so here.

There aren't actually so many paved roads here. Basically just one trunk road per valley. There are very few actual passes and almost no tunnels (and tunnels are always closed to bicycles). Unlike Japan, no attempt is made to connect roads over hills or mountains, just for the sake of connecting them. It is possible to ride to the top of many mountains, but with the exception of the Kitzbueheler Horn, the roads are always unpaved. A paradise for mountain bikers, but not really for road bikers.

Nonetheless, the scenery is a nice change from Japan, even in this bad weather.

As I will be teaching my younger colleagues throughout the week, I will be following with envy the progress the PE teams are making through the Austrian and Italian Alps, on what seems to be more interesting paved roads and passes which can be found in my immediate vicinity. With a bit of luck, next Saturday may offer the opportunity to repeat another attack of the Grossglockner Hochtor, the highest Austrian pass at 2,500m, 100km to the south-east of Kitzbuehel.

Haute Route Launches 2011

I just got an email invitation for another Cyclo Sportive -- the Haute Route -- 7 days from Geneve to Nice.  It is a first time event in 2011.

It looks like "Transalp Lite" --  17000 meters climbing and 730 km.  So about 2500 meters elevation and 200 km distance less than Transalp this year.

Then again, Day 4 is an uphill TT -- so that explains some of the shorter length. ... maybe "Transalp Lite" is a bit harsh.

A much snazzier website, and they offer a "comfort package" and a "premium package" for accommodations.  But no "Camp" option!  No breakfast included in the price.

No pasta parties. ...  Wait a minute, yes, there are pasta parties, just like Transalp.
Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.

And looks like it conflicts with Paris-Brest-Paris this year.

But perhaps worth trying some year?  Maybe when we are too old for Transalp.  Too weak for Transalp.  When we no longer ride among the hard men of cycling.

Then we can try the "Haute Route" and stay in some nice hotels?