Riding into the Mist and up Kazahari Rindo with the Tominator

At Kazahari Pass, Elev 1137 meters.  Via the nasty rindo approach.
Jerome was on a 200k brevet today, so missed the mountaintop ceremony this time.

Today I rode with Positivo Espresso member Tom S.  I do not ride with Tom very often.  Why? He is too strong!

There was that time in 2008 when we were on the Positivo Espresso inaugural team for Tokyo-Itoigawa.  We started together in a nice paceline.  My adrenaline was pumping so I pulled the team the first kilometer or two -- starting up the hill from Takao on Route 20, Koshu Kaido, toward Otarumi Pass.  Then Tom went past and zoomed ahead up the hill.  MOB, Juliane, David J. and I could not follow.  The four of us continued to work together the next 12+ hours.  The next time we saw Tom was when we arrived at Itoigawa.  We were exhausted.  He had arrived hours earlier, showered/bathed, changed, and was well into a meal and enjoying a beer looking rather relaxed.

When I do ride with Tom, I like to do it on Sunday, since he will have ridden 250 kms on Saturday and is softened up a bit so I can try to keep up during his Sunday warmdown.  Maybe his Saturday trip will have involved multiple passes in Chichibu and Gunma, like this.  Or maybe it was a one day (daylight) trip out Doshi Michi to Yamanakako, a quick trip AROUND Mt. Fuji, then home again for dinner.  A fast 275 kms, like this, a week ago.  He is in a different league. Naomi W., herself holder of most of QOM (Queen of the Mountain) badges on Strava in the hills around Tokyo, recently called him the "Tominator".  Perfect.

And of course, Tom is Belgian.  Like Eddie Merckx, greatest cyclist of his era, and likely of all time.  Eddy the Cannibal.  To race against him was to feel yourself pounded into submission, near death, like being eaten alive.  (Today Tom was even wearing a "Molteni" wool jersey, from Merckx's team.  Tom the Tominator.)

Liege-Bastogne-Liege 1980 -- snow!

The Belgians excel at cycling in tough conditions -- cold and rain, mud.  This time of year, it is Spring Classic season.  Lots of cold, rain and mud.  And grueling cycle races.  The Tour of Flanders.  Liege-Bastogne-Liege.  Gent Wevelgem, Paris Roubaix ... and on.  All those, except Paris Roubaix, in Belgium. And Roubaix is just over the border -- Northeast of Lille, France, in an area where France bulges into Belgium.  If the border with Belgium were straight, Roubaix would be in Belgium, not France!

So I was a bit worried this morning.  Not only was it Saturday (well-rested Tom), but we were going to climb the Kazahari Rindo past the Kinoko Center and to Kazahari Pass.  The climb takes you from 500 to 1137 meters, and many sections are 15-20 degrees or even steeper.
Is there any other bigger, badder hill so close to Tokyo? Not that I know of. If you can do this hill twice, you have done the Passo di Mortirolo, considered by many the toughest climb in road cycling in Italy, in Europe .. in the world even. Kazahari Rindo really should be included in the road cycling stage of the 2020 Tokyo Olympics .. it is, after all, in Tokyo.  DO NOT try this road without your climbing gear.

Last Monday I had ridden up to the base of the climb.  A few cyclist friends commented on the blog or Facebook "so you went to the Kinoko Center?" ....  A harmless question, but it stung me.  Ouch.   Errr, actually no, I did not climb to the Kinoko Center.  I turned around before the steep climb.  My ears were turning red as I saw the comments on my computer screen.  Tom offered to ride the "Full Monty" (in this case meaning "the full mountain") with me, and I leaped at the chance to recover my honor.

Today was Spring Classic weather -- dry in the city, but no longer once we neared the mountains and started to climb along the Akigawa; the mist started and the road surface was wet.  The mist continued all through the mountain segment of our ride, and at Kazahari Pass, Elevation 1137, it was about 5 degrees and very damp.  My bike was a mess by the end of the ride.

Spring classic road grit

More gunk

My rear Gokiso hub -- maybe time to clean the inside and put my maintenance training to use ...

Anyway, we met at Koremasa Bridge around 715AM. Tom had brought a Fizik Arione saddle he does not use and had offered to give me following my recent diatribe about the decline of the Arione in its newer, fancier iterations.

Tom was riding one of his steel Panasonic bikes (via C Speed) -- this one with 700x28 tires and lots of mud clearance.

Thanks for the saddle, Tom!  One of the good, old Ariones, and like new condition.

I arrive after Tom at the end of the Akigawa climb ... bottom of the Kazahari Rindo section!

Where we came from and where we are going -- does not look so steep does it?
We just climbed a 10% grade.  The steep section starts just around the next few bends.
The road turns up gradually to around 20%, even steeper in places.

Only 1.5kms to the Kinoko Center.  But over 200 meters up.

We were passed by one little local "kei" truck as we took these photos before the big climb, ... but did not see any cars otherwise the entire way to the top. We quickly entered the clouds.  ... I was tempted to stop and take a photo of the dramatic plunging hillside and clouds below.  But did not.  The #1 rule for this climb is NO FOOT TOUCHES THE GROUND.  It is very hard to start again, and motivation goes entirely if one touches the earth.

Of course, Tom went ahead, and waited at the top.  It was only around 5-6 degrees C, and misting, at the top.  We put on our warm gear, posed for a victory photo and started the long descent down the main road past Tomin No Mori and back to Itsukaichi.

I arrive at the top!

Accurately conveys how I felt!

Tom forgot to switch on his Garmin recording, so I am not sure how much faster he was than me. When I uploaded my GPS data to Strava, I learned that Strava shows me as the "King of the Mountain" for 2015 so far on Kazahari Rindo, despite our rest before the climb.  Great ... but ridiculous. ... This is why they really need to change the feature so that instead of just rides since January 1 (only 2 or 3 showing who have done this entire Strava segment) it shows the past 12 months.

This is the kind of ride I need to do to be ready for another attempt at an SR600 in late May or June, and for Europe in late July.  Thank you, Tom!  Let's ride again soon.  Next time if the weather is better let's add a second, or third pass.

Club des Cingles du Shiroyama

In France, long before the high passes in the Alps (or Pyrenees) are free of snow, cyclists can train for big climbs on Mt Ventoux.  To scale this monster, one ascends from only a few hundred meters above sea level to the summit at 1909 meters.  The mountain is visible from far, far away, the white rock of its upper slopes reflected in the sunlight throughout much of Provence.  And as every road cyclist and fan knows, Mont Ventoux has been the scene of many epic moments in cycling.

Ventoux has a special place in the heart of British cyclists.  The last time Britain was a strong competitor in cycling (until the Wiggins/Cavendish era we now see) was the 1960s, and Ventoux is the location where, in 1967, British cycling great Tommy Simpson collapsed and then died on the last stretch toward the top, his blood containing a mix of amphetamines and alcohol that likely contributed to dehydration and death.  Most recreational cyclists who do the climb will stop and pay homage at the stark granite memorial to Simpson, just a few steps up hill from the place where he came off the bike for one last time.

Tom Simpson, 30 November 1937–13 July 1967

Like many things in cycling, there is always a group that tries to take it to an extreme.  With Ventoux, it is the Club des Cingles du Mont Ventoux.  Entry into the club is simple -- just complete the climbs up (and down) each of the 3 paved routes to the summit of Mont Ventoux in a single day.   Pez Cycling has a good description of a day spent joining the club a few years back.   The Dutch and Belgians seem most taken with this Club.  Perhaps due to lack of mountains in their home countries worth climbing?

This morning, Sunday, was cold and clear, as Tristan, Tom and I headed for the rolling hills of Onekansen.  (James and Tim also rode the early part of the route, but did not head out Onekan, sticking instead to their regular route).  We found ourselves riding with two Japanese as well, trading places.  I was in the back on the hills, Tom and Tristan in the front, the Japanese usually in the middle.  Tom, of course, had ridden over 210 km on Saturday (Miura Peninsula plus some extra), and was joining us solely for a recovery spin.

Eventually, we made our way onto Machida Kaido, and started to discuss our destination for the day.  It would be too cold for climbing into the high mountains.  No Yanagisawa or Odarumi Passes today.  No Nagano or Chichibu for several months.  We needed to find a hill closer in, one where we could get our work in so we would be ready for big climbs later in the year.

All of a sudden, there it was, staring us in the face:  the ascent to Lake Shiroyama and Honzawa Dam.  There are 3 approaches, the "main road" from the South side, which meets Route 413 at a traffic signal within 500 meters or so of the dam across Tsukui-ko, and the 2 smaller roads up the East side, up parallel valleys that are deceptively gradual until the road rises to 12-15% grade for the last bit.   If one would ride each of these climbs, we would have our own Club des Cingles du Shiroyama!

We started on one of the East side roads and made it as far as a locked gate.  One of the Japanese cyclists -- riding a Canyon CF SLX -- was with us, and neither he nor Tom looked willing to hop the gate, portage over a few meters of snow, and continue up.  So we descended back to the bottom and did the other route up the East side, all the way to the top.  We said farewell to our Japanese friend, descended toward 413 on the South approach, took a left through a tunnel and looped around (and up over one of the shoulder of the great hill) to where this road joined the East side ascent near its bottom.

Sure, the climb is short and we had only done it one and a half times, but with the false starts and looping around the base, it felt almost as if we had climbed it three times.  So we declared the new Club des Cingles du Shiroyama, with Tom, Tristan and myself as its founding members.

Tom and Tristan, having just joined the Club, the awesome climb in the background.

We wound our way back to the Tank Road, then made a quick trip back down Onekan, said farewell to Tom, and Tristan and I had an even quicker trip with tailwind (and titanium travel bike + HED Jet 6 wheels!) down road along the Kawasaki side of the Tamagawa.  85 kilometers, almost 800 meters of elevation gain, and home before Noon.  What more could one hope for in late January.

*A check of Google maps suggests that there may be yet another way up, if it is paved and not blocked off so well as to deter even a determined cyclist.  If so, the club membership rules will be duly amended.  Then again, a check of the Club des Cingles du Ventoux rules page notes that there are 4 routes up Ventoux as well!  A climb up the 3 main routes and the Route Forestiere earns the designation Galerien, while a double Cingle (twice up each main route) in one day wins one the rare and coveted Bicinglette -- if a Cingle is extreme, a Bicinglette is crazy.

2012 TOITO -- On the Most Beautiful Day of the Year

We are now well into 2012's peak bicycle racing season.


Saturday saw the 14th stage of this year's Giro d'Italia -- the first high mountain stage into the Alps, near Aosta.  There are some incredible days ahead next week in the Dolomites and Sud Tirol, including the 20th stage that goes over Passo del Tonale, then the Mortirolo and the Stelvio (Bormio side climb).


In this week's Tour of California, Rabobank's Robert Gesink capped his recovery from last year's broken femur with a victory on Mt. Baldy that also put him 45 seconds ahead in the overall leader's jersey, with only Sunday's Stage 8 Los Angeles circuit remaining.


And Japan also witnesses two major events this weekend -- the start of the 15th annual Tour of Japan, in Sakai on Sunday (today), and Saturday (yesterday)'s running of the 41st annual Tokyo-Itoigawa Fastrun Classic ("TOITO").


Of course, it is typical Positivo Espresso braggadocio to compare TOITO with these other events.  Admittedly, TOITO is not quite in the same league, even if it has been around longer than the Tour of California or the Tour de Japon.  And just as important, it is not really a race.


It is more like a timed 308 kilometer one-day ride -- a "fast run" on open roads, some with heavy traffic and street lights.  The term "fast run" is a pretty good description of what it is getting at.  Unlike a Brevet, where the goal is to finish within a specified time limit, the goal for TOITO is to finish within a specified time limit, and to do so as quickly as you can.  There is no lunch break -- just the food at the rest areas and, in my case, a few minutes to vacuum down some microwaved spaghetti at a 7-11 en route.  There is not a lot of time to stop for photos -- a shame on what must have been the most beautiful day of the year, on a route that traveled by snow capped peaks, green valleys and roaring rivers much of the way.  TOITO is a kind of right of passage.  Any serious road cyclist in Japan needs to complete it once, just to show that it can be done.  Only a few are foolish enough to repeat the experience.


This year the organizers made a major change of the route, and as a result the length increased from 291 to 308 kms.  The start moved from Takao in Tokyo, to Manriki Park in Yamanashi-shi (Yamanashi City), in the middle of Yamanashi Prefecture.


It would be more accurately named the "1st annual Yamanashi-shi-Itoigawa Fastrun Classic".  But anywhere except in Japanese English usage the term "classic" would be dubious if it were really the first run of an event.   And Yamanashi-shi is not really significant to the event, and the word is difficult placed in mid-title, with its double "shi".  Maybe they should just call this event the "41st Annual Itoigawa Fastrun Classic", since it at least does go to Itoigawa?


Some key consequences of the route change:

• The start area seemed to have more room for team cars, overnight camping, etc.  There are cheaper business hotels and then are only 7 kms away, instead of 8 or 9 kms.  And now there is no way to do the event from Tokyo without leaving home the night before -- forcing one to actually try to get some sleep the night before the ride.
• There is no traffic whatsoever as one takes National Route 20 through Kofu around 5AM, in contrast to 9AM or later when going on the old route.  At 5AM, it hardly matters whether one takes the surface streets or overpasses on Route 20 through Kofu, and Kofu becomes a much more pleasant experience.  Also, traffic was lighter than in prior years through Shiojiri/Matsumoto, at 9AM instead of 1PM-ish.  And it was really nice to ease into the event over a stretch that gradually descends about 75 meters over 10 kilometers from the start, instead of launching into the Otarumi Pass climb right out of the gate at Takao.
• The new route avoids the harrowing tunnels on the descent from Hakuba to Itoigawa, and instead swings far to the East, through Nagano-shi, then over a climb to Shinano-machi, past Lake Nejiri, and then swiftly descends to the coast at Joetsu, before taking the coast road the final 50 kms to Itoigawa.  Parts of the descent to Joetsu were in heavy traffic, with plenty of big rigs, even log trucks and tanker trucks, but at least there was a good shoulder on the road almost the entire way.

As in past years, some people did their own creative routing -- taking a steep shortcut on the climb to Shiojiri Pass to shave off about 1 km, even though it is NOT the official route this year as construction is long past complete on the "usual" route; some go the wrong (longer) way around the East side of Lake Suwa; intentionally or not, some took a Route 19 bypass to go around the center of Nagano City and miss some of its many traffic lights; and some riders were seen taking a major short-cut near Joetsu to join the coastal road a few kilometers to the west of where Route 18 does.  I stuck to the "official" route the entire way.


Looking at a random selection of riders, the change in route and additional 17 kilometers distance seemed to increase average times 30-50 minutes from last year.  This year, the temperatures were ideal.  Even at mid-day, I did not see any roadside thermometer showing more than 24 degrees celsius, and after a morning chill -- helpful on the first long climb, it was 15-20 degrees celsius for almost the entire remainder.  The wind was an obstacle, but no worse than in past years, and it actually in our favor the last 35 kilometers.





On Friday afternoon, I rode out almost 120 kms from my home to Yamanashi with Pete W.  Pete is a very strong rider, who said he often logs 400-500 kms a week, except when he is coaching seasonal sports at one of the international schools where his wife Glenda (who he said also rides) is an administrator.   Pete is the type of rider who can and has placed top 10 or 20 at the annual Norikura hill climb.  Did I mention that he is Australian, is handy enough to have built a house for their family in Australia, and likes beer -- with preference for microbrews, or maybe Asahi or Ebisu?  Kirin is accepted only in the absence of any other available choice, such as at the Itoigawa finish area.  He also had some good advice for me regarding my riding position and persuaded me that it is past time to get a longer stem for my Canyon bike so I can move the seat forward from its current extreme set-back.

The Fuefuki River in Yamanashi, runs through the heart of Takeda Shingen's former domain.  "Fue" is a Japanese type of wooden flute, and "Fuefuki" roughly means "playing the flute".

In front of  the Hotel Sun Plaza along the Fuefuki River.  Single rooms were 3150 yen as advertised on the sign.  And there was even a Daily Yamazaki store on the premises.

Pete enjoys post-ride refreshment (Asahi Super Dry 350mm) in front of the hotel's former Italian restaurant, now closed, as we wait for Douglas and Steve to check in.

Douglas (who made it to the podium in the 75kg+ class at Yatsugatake hill climb in April) and Steve T. (who will always be known to me as the man who rode his bike from England to Japan) came out later in the afternoon by train.  I probably should have taken the train myself, since the Friday afternoon ride made clear to me that my legs had not yet returned to "fresh" condition after the Tohoku 1700 rides over Golden Week, and also that my overall cycling training this year has been very scattershot, especially compared with last year when I was focused on TOITO as part of my methodical preparation for Transalp.


Michael R. rode his Neil Pryde bike out from Tokyo after the rain showers had passed and made it in time to join us during dinner.  Gunnar, harried at work this week, ended up catching a train that got him to Yamanashi and Manriki Park well after 11PM.  He set up his camping hammock there, and tells me that it was quite cold outside over night.


The Sun Plaza hotel, where I had reserved rooms for all of us but Gunnar, offered spacious single rooms for 3150 yen each, and a large onsen style bath as well.  It had a Daily Yamazaki convenience store on the 1st floor which served cold beer by the can.  We quenched our thirst and watched the mountains visible from the front of the hotel, and then headed for a stroll through the Isawa Onsen area of Fuefuki City, looking for an appropriate restaurant and eventually finding a place that served large cast iron bowls of "houtou" -- a Yamanashi delicacy of thick flat noodles in miso soup with "the works" on top -- all kinds of vegetables and, for me, prawns, scallops and other seafood.  Perfect pre-race food.


I was relieved that the hotel worked out okay this year, after all the ribbing I took from MOB for the tiny, cubicles they called rooms at the R and B Hotel in Hachioji back in 2008 during our first Positivo Expresso appearance at TOITO.  Of course, the Sun Plaza does not seem to be part of a chain, and it is a bit worn around the edges.  They even let us bring our bikes to our rooms, without taking the wheels off -- a battle fought and won by a group of Japanese TOITO competitors who checked in at the same time as Pete and me.


If we had any major complaint, it had to do with the wake-up calls.  The four of us with 4:25/4:35AM starts asked for 3:15 automated wake-up calls.  Mine (and the others) came at 2:57AM.  Michael R., whose start was not until 6:20AM, asked for a later call.  His call did not come; or if it did, it came late.  Or maybe (doubtful) it came on time, and he dozed off again.  In any event, Michael did not get to the start on time and lost precious minutes because of it.  He was riding entirely alone for the early stretches, because of his late start time.

4:15AM, assembled at the start, after an early wake up call.

__________________

As for the ride itself, I liked the new course somewhat better than the old, and was quite happy in that at least I felt that I got, if anything, stronger as the ride went on, and did not suffer too much from my unsystematic training in the year's first quarter (January to March).

Douglas and Pete en route

Douglas, Pete and Steve started 10 minutes after me, and passed me about 40 kilometers into the event.  I could not hold onto the back of their train, and ended up pulling off the road within 10 minutes after they passed in order to use the public facilities in a rest area, after which my digestive system largely ceased its complaints.  Steve T. dropped off their back not too much further than I up the climb to Fujimi. Pete and Douglas rode together the entire ride, and finished in a great time, an excellent performance slowed only by one flat tire/change (and then a slow leak in Pete's replacement tube as they approached the finish).  Gunnar passed me when I was resting at a 7-11 in Nagano-shi, and seemed to be riding solo the entire way.  Tom S. passed me just as I was slowly getting up to speed a few minutes later on ... and I missed the next traffic signal and did not see him again until the finish, where he was already looking relaxed and cleaned up, post-onsen.


I rode mostly alone, after escaping off the front of the group I started with.  On the climb through Nirasaki, however, I joined the rear of a group of about 8 Japanese riders from two teams, all sucking the wheel of the guy in front.  After about 5-10 minutes of this, the strong rider in the front started to slow, tiring in the headwinds.  No one stepped up, so I rode up the line, loudly chastising them for not rotating and sharing the work, and urging every one to take a pull, however short.  I took my turn and did about 1 km on the front, then drifted off back ... and we had a real pace line for a few kilometers, until one of the two teams dropped out, leaving me with 2 other riders (one of whom had a nice bike with beautiful Enve carbon wheels, aero bars, etc., an awful clicking noise coming from a loose rear spoke).  We did cooperate for awhile and the 3 of us were still together when Douglas, Pete and Steve passed me.


There were some other stretches of the ride when I pulled for others, especially into the headwinds while we traveled north from Nagano on route 18.  On the shallow, early stages of the climb, I pulled a Jyunnobi (Niigata-based team) rider who was a couple years older than me and said he weighted 56 kgs (to my 95).  He was very appreciative of having someone big to block the headwind.  I did not mind, but finally waved him ahead when the climb got steeper.  And I rode with a "Charirin RC" club member taking turns at the front on the stretch ahead of checkpoint 2.


As I pulled into the third and final checkpoint, a small lady in a black polo shirt was directing me and other riders not to pull into the 7-11 parking lot, but to go to an adjacent lot where there was a blue banner waving in the breeze.  Only I must have not understood, as I got quite close up (and into a stand-off with a little farmer's truck that was turning in nearby me) before I figured out what was going on.  Who was the staffer?  It was Midori Shiroki, Chair of Japan Audax.  I had last seen her as we suffered up the long hill at Tappi Misaki a few weeks back in Tsugaru Peninsula, Aomori.  There were a number of other Saitama Audax PBP 2007 and 2011 jerseys in the field, including the #8 finisher.  And I saw Maya Ide just before and at the first checkpoint.  Maya, who rode PBP last year, and joined a number of the Tohoku 1700 rides, will also do the Cascade 1200 in late June.  Another Tohoku rider had told me to watch for him -- and shown me what his team jersey looked like -- but either I did not pass him or I completely missed him.


I did get to serve as "domestique" for Michael R. on the long descent from Nejiri-ko to the coast at Joetsu.  Mikey rolled into the 3rd and last checkpoint (213 kms) just as I was about to leave.  He caught me and zoomed by at around 223 kms.  But I was just getting a second (or eighth?) wind, and descending into a stiff headwind I started to really enjoy the benefits of my aerodynamic HED Jet 6 wheels, my Vision mini-TT aero bars, and my sturdy 95 kg frame.  I caught Mikey at kilometer 229 and suggested I would try to give him a pull.  I did so, as fast as I could, for the next 15 kms or more.  When I started to flag a bit as the descent neared its end, he handed me one of his spare gels, which I quickly downed and gave me enough apricot flavored sugar to continue a bit more.  This was fun.


It was also fun riding along the long semi-downhill stretch between Shiojiri Pass and Nagano-shi.  This stretch of 90 kilometers went from a high of over 1000 meters elevation to a low of 330 meters, with no climb of more than 50 meters anywhere in between.  Even riding solo, I could make excellent time with my aero tuck.  Likewise, the 40-plus kilometers along the coast road from Joetsu to Itoigawa was also fun.  The sea was beautiful, and the headwind that had dogged us from Nagano-shi shifted around and became a mild tail wind, helping to push us home.  I also was able to ride a good bit of the last 20 kms with some Japanese riders, including reappearances by the guy with the noisy, clicking spoke and the "Charirin RC" member.  As we neared Itoigawa, we stopped at a red light.  As is often the case, Japanese road racers accelerate faster than I do ... though I often top out at a higher speed once I do get going.  They took off after the light and I found myself off the back, and decided I would just finish alone, going into my aero tuck again and eventually losing a few hundred meters.  But as the course turned off the coast for the short ride inland to the finish, I saw them again, just starting up at a light that turned green.  I put on "full gas" and did my best Fabian Cancellara imitation, and passed them at about 45kph just as they approached their normal cruising speed.  When I looked back a minute or two later just before the finish, no one had followed, or was even visible around the last curve in the road.


My 20 km time splits, visible at the "metrics" tab on RidewithGPS, show that I had long stretches spread evenly throughout the day with an average moving speed comfortably over 30kph.

That said, my average total speed, including rest times and checkpoints, was no better than last year.


My main complaint as the day wore on was the soles my feet.  From a short ride a week ago, I knew that my cleats on my shoes had slipped and the placement was problematic.  So I had remounted and realigned the cleats to make sure they were well centered under the balls of my feet.  One of the cleat bolts had been stripped by the hex wrench, so I replaced it Thursday and checked them again.  The shoes were comfortable on the trip out from Tokyo to Yamanashi ... but by the time I was 150 kms into TOITO, I was getting intermittent numbing in the right foot, with the kind of tingling and searing pain you might get from going ice skating and tying the skates too tightly, as the blood flow cuts off and returns to the foot.  I tried to compensate by pulling up more on the pedals instead of pushing, and then by pushing more with the left foot than right ... which, of course, also caused the left foot to also become a bit numb and start to hurt.  I took a couple of extra 5 or 10 minute rests in between the checkpoints to let my feet recover, losing precious time (but also eating and/or lying down and closing my eyes, to get the most from the break).  I got out the bike multi-tool and tried to adjust the right cleat, ... but the tool's hex wrench promptly stripped the new bolt.  The bolt would not loosen without a large screwdriver, which I did not have.  And even if I could have loosened it, the cleat placement looked okay to my eye, so I am not sure what I would have done.  In any event, according to my Garmin my riding time this year was 11:08, but my total time was 12:51, so almost as long off the bike as when we did TOITO back in 2008, and much longer than last year.


Once I had pulled Michael R. down the long descent after Nejiri-ko and realized that I was not going to make it to the finish under 12 hours, I took a nice, relaxed break outside a 7-11 just south of Joetsu.  There was shade around the side of the store, which was set well back from the highway, by a little flowing canal, and I could eat, rest, and look up at a tree moving in the breeze and completely blue sky.  It looked like this:

I felt that this must be what Prince Andrei saw when he lay wounded at the Battle of Austerlitz, in War and Peace, and realized that all his former ambitions were pointless.  Of course, the 7-11 roof overhang should be cropped out of the picture.


I was a bit surprised, after resting for a few minutes and even closing my eyes, to come around the front of the store and see at least 7-8 road bikes on the front of the store, riders collapsed outside, and in lines at the rest room and register.  Maybe I had closed my eyes for longer than I thought?  I remounted my bike and did not stop again until the finish.


TCC finishing times were:


Michael R. in 10:20:56.  Good enough for 13th place overall.  


Pete W. and Douglas E., 10:35:54. Tied for 19th.


Gunnar H. at 11:06:56. 28th place.


Steve T. 11:52:55. 45th place.


David L. 12:51:45. 97th place ... my first "top 100" finish, despite the rests.


Riding for the Jyunnobi team, Andy W. is listed at 9:34:21, in 7th place.

And Tom S. came in at 10:30:37 for 17th place and 2nd in his age group.  


Kondo-san of Nalshima Frend, a perennial top-5 finisher and former champion, won the event in 9:22:11.  He is the fastest Brevet rider in Japan, and this is in line with his prior efforts.  Respect.

Looking at the incredible efforts by the other TCC members, I would fear that I might lose my starting position in next year's team, except that, as usual, just about everyone participating in our group has declared they will NOT DO IT AGAIN next year.  We shall see.


Andy W's trip report (English and 日本語) can be found HERE.


The GS Astuto report can be found HERE.

Three years

On Thursday, it was three years to the day that I completed my first road bike day ride: http://positivo-espresso.blogspot.com/2008/10/izu-west-coast-cruising.html. A month earlier I had gone to the headquarter outlet of Canyon in Koblenz, Germany, and picked up my first road bike. On 13 October 2008, MOB finally found the time in his busy racing and training schedule to take me onto a weekday ride to Izu.

Little did I know back then that I would end up cycling at least once a week, become addicted of climbing mountains rather than staying in the flat, win a racing championship (more here:

http://positivo-espresso.blogspot.com/2010/01/championship-memoirs.html) and end up doing dusk to dawn rides, sometimes two to three days in a row.

In these three years, I cycled 37,275km: 11,800km in the first twelve months, 12,500 in the following 12 months, and 13,000km in the last twelve months. I did not keep a total tally of the altitude meters climbed, but it must be somewhere between 400,000 and 500,000 metres.

When I was deciding on what bike to buy, I was wondering whether a carbon bike would last more than 6,000km and then disintegrate. I took the risk - very naively. My Canyon carbon bike has clocked 27,300km by now, without anything more than normal wear and tear. I'm about to replace the break pads and wheels, as the breaking down the mountains has worn the rims a little thinner. Nonetheless the wheels are still perfectly usable and will move to my cheaper aluminium Canyon kept in Germany (which so far has seen a modest 3,800km).

The remaining 6,200km have been on my Red Bull cyclocross which has enabled me to expand my "discovery" of rindos (forest/mountain roads) to unpaved ones, and winter conditions.

I should celebrate the fact that I have been accident free throughout these three years. The worst that has happened to me is road rash when my cyclocross went sliding, twice, ironically both times on paved roads, once over moss, the second time over oil.

All this riding has also kept me fit and healthy. My cholesterol measurements have never been better, for example.

If only my back had not suffered. My first half a year on the bike was entirely trouble free. Since then, however, on every ride I would develop pain in my lower back. Depending on how long I was riding without break and how hard I was pushing, this pain would come earlier or later in the ride, and develop sometimes such intensity that I could not continue riding without a few minutes off the bike. On most rides, the pain from my back would far outdo any kind of exhaustion. What kept me still going was the wonderful scenery in the mountains, and the ambition to complete a big ride.

Since August of this year, things started to deterioate, steadily. My back would not only hurt on rides any more, but permanently. In early October, the pain became worse day by day, and it is now so bad my walking is impeded. MRIs show that two disks are squeezing the central nerve.

I must stay off the bike to avoid advancing things even more than they already do by themselves. Even if my back gets better again at some point, it is unlikely I will ever be trouble free. Passing a three-year anniversary in this state is not filling me with much joy. It is difficult enough to miss the best cycling weather in Japan, the mild and long autumn.

As my present state and a look into the future is filling me with pain, it perhaps wiser to look back and think of all the great moments I have had on the bike.

First of all there is all the great countryside I have had the chance to discover. Three years ago I largely ignorant of the geography surrounding Tokyo. When I landed in Japan 16 years ago, I would occasionally go on hikes in the Okutama, Jinba and Tanzawa mountains, but in later years hardly venture outside Tokyo on weekends.

Today I can proudly claim that there is basically no mountain road or pass in rural Tokyo, Kanagawa, Yamanashi and Saitama I do not know. I have also covered most of Gunma, Nagano and eastern Shizuoka. This includes the highest mountain pass in Japan - Norikura at 2,700m - which I have climbed three times.

It also includes unpaved roads, many officially closed roads and rindos, some hiking paths, a forbidden tunnel, and even an entire forbidden (but really stunning) valley somewhere in the Japanese Alps (I had to promise not to reveal more when I got caught).

I also have made occasional excursions beyond the Kanto-Joshinetsu area: Hokkaido, Kansai, Yamaguchi and Kyushu. There is still so much more to see of course.

In Europe, I have had a good time in southern Germany, England and the Tyrolian Alps in Austria. The "real" Alps are simply stunning, and also quite challenging, more for the variable weather than the slopes - though doing 1,200m up the Kitzbueheler Horn at an average of 13% (!!) is always a killer.

In these three years, I have on basically every ride "discovered" something new - never just repeated a previous route. The only exceptions have been group rides where I held back my urge to discover something new.

Apart from the mountains, there are idylic rural villages (almost anywhere), historic towns (notably Tsumago, Magome, Narai, Takayama), and great onsens.

The highlight has been ten days this year at the Kusatsu Music Academy where I was able to combine cycling (albeit far too little because of the bad weather) and music.

Then there is the great camaderie with other fellow cyclists. I owe to MOB a ride on his older bike in July 2008 which would get me all excited about buying my own bike and giving it a try. He then took me on many rides, teaching me all the basics about getting in and out of Tokyo, also about how to compete in the JCRC championships. We were a good match in me taking photos and him publishing entertaining ride reports.

After MOB left for Germany in Spring 2010, I felt somewhat on my own, and started expanding the length of my rides, often venturing beyond 200km and 3,000m of climbing a day. This is also when I completed my longest ride to date - 340km leaving home at 4am and arriving to just catch the setting sun across the Sea of Japan in Naoetsu 15 hours later (and this being Japan I was still back home three hours later).
I used the newly found endurance to do three-day rides with Mike, discovering the highest mountains in Nagano, which are all quite stunning. The mountain landscape changes above 2,000m - and so does the temperature, which is nice in summer.
Then Tom helped me to stretch myself not only in terms of distance but also pace. Tom rarely needs a break, and he takes all climbs at speed. By now we have done quite a few two-day rides together, where discovering a new (well, often, very old) minshuku to stay is part of the fun of the weekend out.

Finally it is always fun to join a larger group ride and meet new people or see old faces. And these rides almost always end differently as planned.

This is why I like cycling so much: there is always something new and unknown, and yet things always end well (at least so far).

I hope I can return some time in the not to distant future.

In the meantime, I will be as stiff as this monkey in Tama Zoo.

Sunday social ride

UPDATE:  The Sunday ride started according to plan.  Tristan, Graham and I headed out on dry pavement, Jerome caught up, and we met Tom and Ludwig at Tamagawahara-bashi.  6 people -- not bad for a group of expats on an early Sunday morning in mid-summer, with a questionable weather forecast. We decided to head for Takao and then, if all went well, over into the low hills around Sagamiko. The sky was very dark.

As we headed out the river to the WNW, we could see rain and very low clouds, and soon we entered the precip -- real tsuyu (rainy season) or September typhoon season weather, with tiny drenching droplets of warm rain.

Ludwig quickly said he wanted to head back, not favoring a ride in the wet.  But he kept with us to the bridge over the Tamagawa, where he and Tom decided to head out Yaen-kaido toward Onekansen, rather than Takao (an easier "u turn" if the rain did not let up).  Somehow I was expecting that even if Ludwig and Tom showed up, they would probably head off in a different direction, since they like to ride solo and have finally become a good fit for trips together.  Graham, Tristan, Jerome and I pushed on toward Takao, starting up the Asagawa.

The rain got heavier and heavier, the closer we were to the hills surrounding Hachioji.  We were still a few kilometers short of Hachioji Station, at a place where the route along the Asagawa involves multiple turns and road crossings, when Tristan slipped and went down -- I heard a "bam" of someone hitting a guardrail behind me.  He banged his thigh hard, but fortunately nothing broken, just what looked like it will be a nasty, painful bruise.

We continued on into Hachioji, found a Denny's and sought shelter and breakfast, to see if the weather would improve.  It did not, so we headed back.  (Except for Jerome who, having had at least 3 cups of coffee and 4 of cola, decided it would be a shame not to at least go up to Otarumi Pass and back, having made it this far).

By the time we got back across the river the rain had almost ceased and we were on dry pavement again.  We did a short detour, one trip up the Yomiuri-V-Dori to show Tristan and Graham the location, then Tristan and I did a  semi-team time trial along the road on the Kawasaki side back to Futakotamagawa, Graham not far behind.

When I got home, my wife and son reported that it it had not rained at all in Tokyo while we were getting soaked just a bit closer to the western hills.

__________________________

ORIGINAL POST:  It has been awhile ... but is anyone else in town (Tokyo, that is -- not Bremen, London, Grenoble or one of the other branches) and interested in a social ride on Sunday, heading out relatively early Sunday morning?  I think Jerome is also in.


Maybe a 7:30AM start from Kaminoge (my house), or 7:10AM Ebisu, or 8:00AM from Tamagawaharabashi (the bridge that crosses the Tamagawa just after the Keio-kaku keirin stadium and leads to Onekansen)?


No detailed route plan -- depends on the weather and the group. 
 
The forecast is for cooler, cloudy weather, with a chance of rain showers -- could be worse.

Leave a reply in the comments or drop me an email if you are interested.

Tokyo - Itoigawa 2011

I awoke in a dark, cramped hotel room in Hachioji and stumbled to turn off my alarm. I felt terrible, only 2 1/2 hours' sleep, still dehydrated from too much beer and not enough food despite some glasses of water before sleeping, still tired from way too late a train ride out to Hachioji -- on the 11:45PM train from Shinjuku, arriving around 12:30AM, then wandering in the dark through a "gauntlet" of questionable entertainment joints to find my business hotel. Guys in suits standing in the street wearing sun glasses at midnight, pairs of girls in the shadows.

Anyway, at 3:40AM I needed to scramble, try to consume and keep down some convenience store sandwiches, two small yogurts, plus a cold Seattle's Best Double Espresso I had bought on the way into the hotel a few hours earlier, dress, shave, pack my bags, assemble my bike in the hallway (not enough room in the room!) and hit the road. It took longer than it should have, and was after 4:10AM by the time I left the hotel, 10+ minutes behind schedule and not a moment to lose. Our start was 4:40AM, and I first needed to get to Takaosan-guchi, check-in, deliver my rucksack and drop-bag, find my teammates, and get ready to actually, well, race a bicycle.

About 15 minutes later, passing the Positivo Espresso recommended 7-11 on Rte 20 in front of Takao station, after riding much too hard for a warm up, I heard a woman's voice say "Litt-san!" It was the-nice-woman-whose-name-I-did-not-get from the staff at the May 7 Saitama Brevet. She was riding with a man in "Pedal Far" bib shorts (her husband, perhaps?) up toward the start. She asked "do you remember me, from the Saitama Brevet?" "Yes of course," I said. "What time is your start." She responded "I did not ride I was on the staff." My Japanese must have been as garbled as my mind. "I said, "no, not the Brevet, your start today". She said "I'm not riding, I'm "o-en-dan" (support for a participant -- support, fan club or cheerleader, maybe). I just mumbled "excuse me, I'm late, I've got a 4:40AM start" and pushed ahead. So I still did not get her name, or learn any more about her (or the man riding with her, who looked like a strong rider). I guess if I keep up these endurance rides, I'll probably see them again.

I arrived at the start area at 4:33AM, just as Travis was trying to call my mobile phone and he, Gunnar, Steve and Yair were talking about a revised 4-man team race strategy. I checked in, dropped off my bags, tried (not very successfully) to catch my breath, and had the foresight to pull out my camera and ask someone to take our team photo.

Yair, David, Gunnar, Steve and Travis -- P.E. 2011 TOITO team, in TCC jerseys (except for Yair "Sufferfest" Bauer)

Unfortunately, I did not have the foresight to clean the fog off of the lens, or to hand the camera to someone with a steady hand -- so the photo gives a remarkably accurate idea of how I was perceiving the world at this time.

And then we were off! We started with 4 of the riders from Team Cuore -- a Japanese group of very enthusiastic riders based around a shop in Taito-ku, Tokyo -- and several others.

As feared, I lost the back of our group on the first climb, to Otarumi, and cleared the pass in just over 16 minutes -- 90-100 seconds slower than a week earlier despite my best efforts to stay with the team. Was it really a smart idea for me to ride (race) with these guys, whose average age is 12 years' younger?

But on the descent, I passed several of the Cuore riders and Yair (who really needs to add some weight if he wants to "drop like a rock" on the descents. He is looking slimmer than Alberto Contador and with just as spindly arms). I caught the rest of the team just as they were starting up at the traffic light in front of Sagami-ko station. I felt semi-human again.

On the 60-70 meter elevation climb up to Uenohara, I again lost the back, but on the next downhill, I timed (luck) the light at the bottom perfectly and, going 60 kph, passed my 4 teammates plus another 5-6 riders onto the next climb, then rode generally with (or within hailing distance of) the team to Otsuki. I lagged again on the climb to Sasago, but passed various groups of other riders and arrived only 5 minutes back of the team, with an average speed of 26.74 kph for the leg. Not that bad a start after all -- 75th fastest time on that leg out of 359 finishers (and also an unstated number of "DNFs" -- we saw some riders struggling and other resting who surely did not make it all the way by the cut off time).

Anyway, a 292 km ride is too long for a "blow by blow" account, ... and I've got some work and then want to catch a bit of the Giro, so let me give a few highlights.

First the results:

1. Andy Wood won for the Nth straight year, with a time of 8:44:43. He passed me near Chino and shouted out a greeting, recognizing my TCC jersey. I was about to say something back ... but he was gone. I think I did see TT bar extensions, but I did not get a chance to measure whether they exceeded the permitted limits under the TOITO rules.

2. Tom S. put in another very strong performance, with a time of 9:43:09 for 11th place overall, 5th in the 40-49 age group. Chapeau!

3. In 3rd place at 9:12:43 was Kondo-san, the fabled Brevet rider (see my 600 km May 7 Brevet report), riding for Nalshima.

4. Our team had some excellent results.

Travis finished 52nd in 10:57:45. Double Chapeau!

Gunnar outsprinted Steve to the line for 71st place, in 11:19:18. Steve took 72nd in 11:19:21. They rode very well together as a pair -- really ought to aim for Transalp at some point.

Yair, still recovering from an injury this winter and only 2 months back on the (beautiful new) bike, suffered through the middle/late segments but still managed to equal last year's P.E. group time, at 12:28:59, for 165th. With this ride under his belt, Yair is back.

5. The wind shifted throughout the day -- we had a headwind coming down into Kofu, tailwind between Shiojiri and Matsumoto, and then a cross wind, then a headwind from just before the lakes South of Hakuba until the finish. The last was at times a very stiff headwind, offsetting the speed of the descent. We all suffered in the heat during the 78 km stage between Shiojiri and Hakuba ... many of us taking an unscheduled convenience store break early in the long climb, and me deciding I was in danger of serious consequences if I pushed too hard, and so taking it easy for awhile.

When it came, the headwind was cool and, thus, a real relief. I kept repeating to myself, "the wind is keeping me cool, be thankful for the breeze, ... and tuck low enough so it runs over along your back, inside and down your jersey". Overheated, I was happy to sacrifice a bit of speed for the longer term relief from the cooling effect. As I emerged from the last of the tunnels on Route 148, into a noticeably cooler area, I welcomed the cloud cover, threatening skies and wind, the heat a distant memory.

6. I did not ride any of the "no bicycles allowed" overpasses in Kofu. I went with the Japanese riders along the side street, and waited, and waited, and waited, at the lights. At one of these, there were about 15 riders and a truck and few cars ahead of me. The light finally turned green, the truck, cars and maybe 3 riders went through before it turned red again, 10 riders ahead and so no chance to sprint the light on yellow-changing-to-red ... another 4-5 minutes wait, it seemed, during which all the lights I could see at the intersection were red, cars just sitting and nothing moving in any direction. Aaaaargh! Also, this time, I did much less running of red signals than in 2008 with Juliane, DJ and MOB. Hard to argue that I don't know better this time. ... but I did get alone for a good part of the Shiojiri-Matsumoto stretch, and was able to time the lights very well, move to the front of waiting traffic, pass through when no cars were approaching and the light had changed to a "right turn only" arrow -- the usual tricks, without doing anything dangerous or attention-getting. How much of the difference among the top riders is really just a question of how many rules they break?

Later, I was able to persuade a Japanese rider to join me in going through some "T" intersections (along the top side of the "T"), and to make a left turn on red (remember, this is Japan - riding on the left, slinking around the corner, and continuing along the left), against some useless red lights. He eventually went ahead of me and I could see him, at the next "T" intersection, go up onto the sidewalk, around the intersection, and back into the street again, avoiding the red light -- all perfectly safe. He learned quickly.

I had very bad luck with road construction on the Hakuba-Itoigawa stretch, with several lengthy waits for one-way traffic the other way.

7. Travis, Gunnar and Steve did try at least one Kofu overpass, but one of the other riders yelled at them from the side street, causing Steve to look over to see who was yelling, and why, ... and he ran straight onto the dividers/chevrons between the overpass and side road, flatting both front and rear tires, with some rim damage and a big jolt and big scare ... but not enough of a scare to keep him from continuing on. I was a few minutes back and missed the excitement, and just passed a smiling Steve who was walking his bike back ... I thought looking for something he had dropped. Anyway, Travis and Gunnar went back to help, I went on slowly, and we regrouped at Nirasaki ... only for them to go on ahead of me up the hill.

8. The route was noticeably better than I had remembered. No big trucks coming down the tunnels this Saturday afternoon ... though I did see a few going the other way. And there was an improved road surface and wider shoulder, I think for a good part of the stretch around Matsumoto. And reverted from a 2008 detour to the "usual" route again North of Matsumoto. Also, the checkpoints were far better stocked with bananas, rice balls and drinks -- water, mugi-cha and pokari sweat -- when riding with a 4:40 AM start than with our 2008 6:25 AM start.

And we saw many more team cars and supporters on the side of the road, cheering us on up the climb after Nirasaki and again later on. There were two young, attractive ladies dressed up in "maid" costumes, standing by their car on several of the climbs cheering us on, jumping up and down.

I blew them a kiss as I passed the second time, but meanwhile I could only think ... of this past week's news of Arnold the Governator and his child by a former housekeeper leading to his separation from Maria Shriver, that news from California following just a few days after Dominique Strauss-Kahn's arrest for his alleged brutal attack on a chambermaid at the Hotel Sofitel in Manhattan ... what is it with these guys and the maid costumes?

9. With my long explanation of the Kofu red lights, the road construction, miserable afternoon heat and the headwinds, I've just about run out of excuses.

Anyway, my time was 12:06:42, which placed me 137 out of 359 finishers. This was 20 minutes better than in 2008, though I was really hoping to get somewhere comfortably under 12 hours. Still, not bad, all things considered.

And when I reached the hotel driveway entrance, I was surprised -- done so soon? I thought I still had a few more kilometers to go. Why did I leave so much in the tank at the end? Sunday morning, but for the rain and the press of work, I would definitely have headed up the coast on my bike. The only aches or pains during the ride were some numbness in my feet -- I need to check my right cleat alignment. So even if my time was not so much better than 2008, the Brevets have definitely helped my endurance. Now, over the next 3 weeks, I just need to try to do more climbing practice, then I'll be ready for Transalp.

By the time I finished, Travis was gone, headed to the station then back to Tokyo. Tom was waiting and offered his congratulations before heading into Itoigawa with his Vlaams teammates. We unwound, soaked in the onsen, enjoyed our bento boxes out front of the hotel, with some extras (tonjiru udon, cucumbers w/ salt, beer), added 2 pizzas later -- ordered and delivered to our hotel room -- chatted with Saito-san, a neighbor from the Cuore team in the room next door, who offered me a taste of a nice Burgundy Pinot Noir. We all slept early and very soundly.

After breakfast, we braved the pounding rain on Sunday morning to the station and hopped the train back to Tokyo.

Another successful event. Will we go back next year? Too soon to say.

Our team at the start -- second try at a photo, after cleaning the camera lens.
Look at those faces-- is that a unified expression of determination to ride to victory, or what?

Gunnar models the hotel yukata -- and seems to be having some trouble straightening his back and unclasping his hands after the new experience of riding 300 km in a day. One of the older, male riders complimented Gunnar on his yukata ("ni-aimasu") and no one reproached him for wearing the hotel slippers outside. ... the guy who yelled at Steve in Kofu must have been DNF, or maybe still on the road at this point.

Tom S. prepares to ride into Itoigawa to his lodgings.

The Sea of Japan and wet roads, from our train.

Travis' report: http://www.tokyocycle.com/bbs/blog.php?b=91

Tom's report: http://vlaamsewielrenner.blogspot.com/2011/05/40th-classic-300km-endurance-race.html

Andy's report: http://www.jyonnobitime.com/time/2011/05/tokyo-itoigawa-2011-race-repor.html