A Beautiful 600km ride ... Streams, Forests, Mountains, Fields, Biggest Dog Ever, Sea of Japan, Pacific Ocean ... and some Nuclear Waste along the way

Heading toward Aizu

After a 300km+ attempt at the Aoba 600, plus a lovely Amariyama ride (1600m gain) and some shorter spins, it was time for my next 600km brevet. I hoped the recent efforts had my legs ready. Only one way to find out.

This was an Utsunomiya Audax event, starting and finishing in Tochigi (Yaita/Otawara). I used to ride their events often—signups didn’t fill up in 30 seconds like Saitama or Kanagawa. But since more Tokyo-area clubs popped up around 2015–2020, the appeal faded. The logistics were also a hassle: a long drive or awkward train + rinko combo, plus one time I had to pull off the expressway and nap in a parking area before driving home safely, as I was starting to close my eyes behind the wheel. 

I hadn’t ridden with them since a gorgeous  2018 400km ride  (east to Mito/Oarai, west past Maebashi) and a rain-soaked Choshi 400km in 2016. But this year offered a reason: my wife had discovered that the onsen water at a certain inn in Nasu Shiobara did wonders for her health. The inn has little else to recommend it but the onsen is special—if I did this ride, she got three nights there, and I got my ride and a recovery soak. A win-win.

The route looked terrific. No Tokyo sprawl, a double Honshu crossing, and a chance to peer toward Fukushima Dai-Ichi. The organizers warned of 8000m of climbing, but RidewithGPS said 7100m—and my watch logged 6600m. Still a proper challenge.

Only 14 riders started at 2AM Saturday. Among them was my friend Andrei O. We hadn’t coordinated, but I was glad to see him. He crashed the Japanese Odyssey podium last year and did PBP hours faster than I ever could. We go back to Fuji Hill Climb days and were together when I broke my collarbone descending a Gunma mountain in 2020. I didn’t expect to keep pace—just say hi.

My ride long after dinner with Andrei?

I recognized a few others: Nagayama-san from the Iwaki 400km, some Chiba regulars. I introduced myself to one named Tsutsui-san, and to Sawamura-san, the only woman on the ride. At the start, Tanami-san (organizer) and Fujita-san (staff, maybe riding?) gathered us around for a briefing.

Participants unload their bikes from cars in the distance.

Fujita-san is the rider with the explosion of hair.

They did not do the bike checks until 2AM sharp. I was chomping at the bit (figuratively), as usual, and got out onto the course a few minutes later. 

I was very happy with my pace on the first 50km of the event, which took me up the foothills then Shiobara keikoku in no traffic to over 800m elevation, the high point of the entire ride. A number of riders passed me, but I felt I was in the thick of the group, and was ahead of the clock.  After the top of the second hill, we would basically descend or ride on the flat for 75kms. 

These signs are everywhere in Fukushima prefecture. 
Are there actually flights from the airport? It seems far from anywhere!

Making good time heading north to the west side of Aizu Wakamatsu.

I reached the 162km control at 9:41AM, more than 3 hours ahead of the closing time. At this second control, a strong-looking guy in his 30s or early 40s was wrestling with a speed sensor, muttering "sai-aku" (最悪 - "the worst") over and over. Apparently, tunnel GPS glitches made him overshoot the first control by 7km. I told him things could be a lot worse—we had no rain, no cold, no headwind, and no traffic. If this was the worst, he needed a broader imagination.

As I went to discard my trash, I saw him casually smoking a cigarette. Only in Japan have I seen brevet riders lighting up mid-ride. Somehow, he still finished hours ahead of me.

Mr. "Sai-aku" and Fujita-san as we seek shade next to the PC convenience store.

It got hot in the inland valleys—one roadside gauge flashed 31°C. After Aga, in the small town of Mikawa, I missed a turn off the national road onto a local one. I doubled back, scrambled down some steps, and rejoined the course. Under the overpass I’d just ridden, I sat on a bench to snack—only to meet a man walking the biggest dog I’ve ever seen. Calm and stately, the dog was part Great Dane, part Irish Wolfhound. He enjoyed the attention, but really wanted my egg salad sandwich. I apologized—no backup food and a long way to the next store. They forgave me. Next time, I’ll bring a spare sandwich for him.

My feet started to ache incredibly in my shoes, so I stopped beside the road and removed my second pair of thin cycling socks.  That seemed to do the trick ... until the heat of the next afternoon.  It got cooler once near the Sea of Japan, with a wind from the sea toward the land. I moved forward deliberately and at Murakami, 239kms, I was 3 hours 20 minutes ahead of the time limit.  I ate and rested there, almost an hour. I never again managed to get 3 hours ahead of the time limit.

Sea of Japan

Dragon in front of tourist info center at Senami Onsen

The next stretch to Yonezawa included a slow climb to 350m on Route 113. Too much traffic, too many trucks, too many tunnels. Eventually I pulled off and lay beside a nearly dry gorge, cooling off a bit before continuing.

Passing into Yamagata ... did not end the climb.

I rested here.

At kilometer 304, we finally began descending into Yonezawa—though it turned out flatter than expected. I blew past the control, looking for a Family Mart, but it was a Lawson. A kilometer later, I pulled out my cue sheet, turned back, and found the right spot. A rider had even yelled to warn me as I passed. Sure enough, he was still there when I returned.

I’d ridden 332km, been out for 18.5 hours (20 including pre-start ride), and was still 3 hours ahead of the control close. I flopped onto the concrete outside the store and took a 45-minute rest.

The next segment would include a climb over mountains and then down to Fukushima-shi.  The latter part of this segment I rode on the Fukushima SR600 in 2022. At least tonight we would NOT take Prefecture Route 232 through the woods to Toge Eki, but instead would use National Route 13.  The climb from Yonezawa was just under 400m elevation gain. It was not so steep, and if fresh it would have been easy. I was not fresh, at all.  So I was relieved to get to the tunnel at the top. I rode 2.5 km or more through a deserted, flat tunnel, then a quick descent about 100m vertical on the other side ... until a second flat tunnel of 2.5 kms, then a fast descent all the way to the edge of Fukushima-shi. 

I am headed over (or through) that mountain to Fukushima-shi

Our route crept along the hills to Iizaka Onsen Station. Jerome and I had stopped here last year when it was a control point on a Golden Week 1000km event. It was deserted this time, at midnight. I took a shorter rest and headed on, stocking up on food to snack on in the hills ahead. 

Basho was here (Basho was everywhere)

I reached the overnight control at 1:40AM—two hours and 20 minutes before closing. After a quick bite with Tanami-san and another staffer, I grabbed a bed in a four-bed room. Two beds were occupied, one vacated, and one—mine—fresh. A light eas on and the room was hot, but I was asleep in seconds, before 2am, and suddenly wide awake at 3:40. Downstairs, Andrei was getting ready to leave. Soon, Sawamura-san and another rider showed up—they’d already done 60km and 600m of climbing since midnight, as they had rested at Yonezawa. Machines.

I rolled out around 4AM, just as the control was set to close. Only 215km left. Easy, right? Well... I started strong. Andrei had vanished. I passed one rider, while Sawamura-san and the other sleepers were still behind. The route wound up and down before a 300m climb to a highland. New tunnels cut through the hills instead of roller coastering over them. The roads were pristine—Japan’s “throw-money-at-it” model results in great infrastructure, and they threw money here after the nuclear accident. If only tunnels cured population decline.

After the highland, a long descent led to the coast. I passed signs warning this was a “difficult-to-return” zone—帰還困難区域 being officialese for “wasn’t safe, still isn’t.” Side roads were blocked with steel pipes. Patrol cars cruised slowly. No humans out and about—just a troop of 60–80 monkeys darting across the road. The wildlife seemed fine. Maybe radiation’s long-term health effects are less brutal than living near human society. Or maybe they just haven’t read the research.

Later, I passed piles of irradiated soil, stacked in black bags along the roadside. Many more waited in nearby “temporary” storage sites. The contrast was stark: silence, sunlight, and all that dark plastic entropy.

Those cranes on the horizon are at Fukushima Dai-Ichi

In Namie, near the coast, the town showed signs of re-occupation: new roads, fresh buildings, and vast open spaces. I stopped at a 7-Eleven—the cleanest convenience store toilet I’ve seen this year, and I’ve seen plenty. It was so immaculate I found myself brushing and wiping the toilet surfaces before I left. The staff—maybe a father and two teenage daughters—still had a COVID-era plastic sheet at the register. Polite, professional. No trash bins outside, and just one tiny receptacle inside for store-bought wrappers. I left them a glowing Google Maps review. Most reviewers whined about the lack of garbage cans, but really—if your neighborhood was surrounded by radioactive cleanup zones, would you want to take strangers’ trash?

The route headed south along the ocean, then veered inland past the destroyed nuclear facilities. Signs for “screening areas” and “difficult-to-return zones” were everywhere. Then the climbing began again—from sea level up to the highland at 500m. I was crawling. At one rest stop above a stream, I saw two older men fly fishing. One flicked his wrist and snagged a fish with delicate precision. We were 20km SW from the reactors, but here, life looked normal.

In Kawauchi, I stopped at a combined restaurant/convenience store that I also had rested at during the final afternoon of the Fukushima SR600.  It had been hot then. It was hotter now. I climbed more to the crest of a pass at 650m elevation, and breathed a sigh of relief.  It was 200m of descent and 13 kms until the Ono control point. Ono was at 507kms -- 95 kms to the goal!  It was just past noon, so 6 hours to go, well, 5 hrs and 40 minutes by the time I left the control.  Another rider was at the control and said many had just left before I rolled in. I was within striking distance of the main group and still had time to make the 40 hour limit. 

The next section was a climb up 100m, then down 300m -- generally a descent.  Except even the descent included lots of nasty little up sections. They had not gotten any new tunnels here. The little climbs crushed my soul in the afternoon heat. My feet started to hurt.  I took rests.  On one, I lay down on a small spur that went up a hill. Along came another rider!  He told me that I could still make it, and encouraged me. I swapped into thick wool socks—oddly, it helped, even if my shoes were now tighter than ever. I think from now I will always carry a variety of socks on these really long rides!

We rolled together at 20–25kph through farmland. The hardest bit was when we turned south into a stiff headwind across open fields. Then came a gradual climb toward the Fukushima–Tochigi border.

I asked the other rider’s name. “Fujita,” he said—one of the staffers I’d met in the dark 36 hours earlier. Back then, his wild, mad-scientist hair was unmistakable. Now, and yesterday at PC2, it was hidden under a cap. So I hadn’t recognized him. We kept each other company through the final stretches.

Once we got onto the real climb to the Tochigi border, I recognized the road from several brevets in recent years.   I climbed stronger than I had the past 12-14 hours and got to the top well ahead of Fujita-san.  I had 90 minutes left to go under 30 kms, and that started with a 10+km descent at high speed, another few kms with a very modest downhill, then a long trip across largely rural Otawara-shi.  We took it easy the last 10km and still arrived with 10 minutes to spare.  Half the riders finished in over 38 hours. The fastest time was 33:59. Second fastest was 35:51. So even if I was the slowest (I was, again, just like Iwaki) the difference was not very much.

I thanked Fujita-san profusely. If he had not come along, would I have given up?  No. But would I have made it on time? I just don't know. I lacked confidence during a crucial segment between 530 kms and 570 kms. And riding with him was a great comfort.  It was not until I was on the familiar climb to the Tochigi border that I smelled victory and got another spurt of energy.

After the "goal" we rode another 7 kms to the "reception" at bicycle shop Fleche in Yaita, near the start. My wife kindly picked me up and drove us back to the onsen inn.  627kms in total on the bicycle so I appreciated the ride. 

I'm done with the full 200/300/400/600 series for 2025!  I guess I still am a randonneur. 

The Kamikaze - a Tailwind along the Sea of Japan

I don't have any photos of the low point of my ride. That was around 4AM in pitch dark and pouring heavy rain, when my rear tire flatted. 

On this ride I was running new Schwalbe Pro One 700x30 tubeless tires, with sealant, but wherever the leak was that night, the sealant did not work -- air quickly left the tire again when I tried to pump it back up. I added some IRC "Respawn" foam sealant ... and the tire still did not reseal. Eventually, completely soaked and digging around in my bag for the needed tools, I managed to take off the rear wheel, remove the tire, remove the valve for the tubeless setup, insert a tube, re-inflate the tire and get the wheel back on the recumbent (which is somehow much more difficult than on my road bikes). But it took quite awhile, and I lost a pair of bone induction earphones somewhere in the dark by the side of the road. 

The rain continued hard and I was in extreme exhaustion/panic mode until I reached my very basic hotel around 630AM, over an hour later than I had planned.  I was soaked. I was worried that my iphone might suffer water damage (indeed, I needed to "override" a caution warning to allow it to recharge when moisture was detected in the charger area). Everything I had was wet. I paid an extra 1000 yen at the front desk for an 11AM rather than 10AM checkout, on Sunday morning, warmed in the bath, and slept a few hours. 

When I left my hotel room at 11AM, the rain had stopped. I  cleaned the bike ... especially cleaning and re-lubing the chain.  I did not ride away until nearly 11:45, and stopped for a ramen lunch after around 8 kms of my ride. So it was a slow start to the day, but at least a real reset.

My weather app showed that I would have a nice tailwind for the next segment -- a "kamikaze" or god wind to push me forward.  And it proved accurate. The ride to Murakami was nothing special, but as soon as I came out onto the coastline north of Murakami just before 4PM, I could feel a very strong tailwind and see the beauty of this coastline in late afternoon. The next stretch -- overnight to Akita City -- was one of the best of the entire ride, especially the late afternoon-sunset period. I was on Route 345 along the coast, while Route 7, the "main road" up the Sea of Japan coast, takes an more internal path. There was relatively little up and down, there were spectacular rocks jutting up out of the coastline ... that the road went right through via tunnel. 

A rest area just north of Murakami

Looking south from just north of Murakami

There seemed to be dozens of little coves with rocks and small islands offshore

Magical light before sunset

A lighthouse visible on a line of rocks offshore.

Moonlight, 11PMish.

I rode all night, along the Niigata, Yamagata, and southern Akita coastline. I stopped a few times at convenience stores, had a late night meal at Gusto in Sakata, and napped in a few bus stops further along. The total was 258 kms from my Niigata hotel to a stop in Akita City. With the wind at my back, I never had difficulty and never thought about quitting.  And by the time I got to Akita City, I was around 80% of the way through the ride. Now it was just a matter of willing myself over the last few segments.

The Kamikaze

 

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.

600 km Brevet with Tail Wind -- In Both Directions!

This weekend Jerome and I joined the Saitama Audax-sponsored 600km May 7 “Attack Fukushima Nihonkai” Brevet.

We had both completed the 400 km Aoba on April 23-24.  And Jerome rode the 400 km Chiba event on April 30 – finishing in a personal best time of less than 20 hours after taking advantage of some nice tailwinds along the coast.  So this would be 3 Brevet weekends in a row for him.  (I’m not crazy. I skipped the Chiba 400, and limited my Golden Week cycling three shorter trips in the hills around Tokyo ... though I guess if I add them up the total does come to a bit more than 400 km.)

Jerome drove up to my house just after 5AM Saturday, and we loaded my bike and gear into his car for a quick drive to the start at Iruma City, Saitama, just under the Toyomizu Bridge on Route 407.

After signing in and getting my Brevet Card and was talking to several of the organizers, including Shiroki-san, the lady who manages the PBP entry process from Japan, Jerome strolled up to me and asked if I had a spare pair of shoes.  No, I had just my cycling shoes, not even slippers for the car ride.  Jerome was wearing flip-flops.  His cycling shoes had not made it into the car.  Nor had he any other shoes, for that matter.

Fortunately, an announcement of his plight at the end of the pre-ride briefing caused one of the 50+ other riders in the 7AM start group to take pity and volunteer that he had a pair of 27cm casual sports/running shoes in his car.  They fit Jerome’s feet well enough, and he decided to ride the 600 km with them.  Like I said, I’m not crazy.

I wonder if perhaps Jerome did not forget his cycling shoes at all, but had another sub-conscious motive.  Perhaps he had considered the 400 km rides too easy?  Maybe he studied the weather forecast, anticipated the tailwind(s), or the need to ride more slowly with me … and decided he needed a handicap?  Or maybe he just wanted more comfort when walking around off the bike at the checkpoints; we all know that cleated cycling shoes can be uncomfortable and treacherous – perhaps he wanted to avoid any more slip-and-fall incidents if we happened to stop at Restaurant Gusto?  In any event, given his low cadence, stomp-the-pedals technique, it proved only a modest handicap.  Perhaps he is crazy, like a fox.

Pre-Ride Briefing under Toyomizu Bridge.  Shiroki-san, who handles Japan's PBP applications, is in the grey sweatshirt at the back of the van.  She rode the route in a car snapping photos of smiling riders cresting hills.

Saturday’s weather forecast was mixed, with the “folded umbrella” sign suggesting potential for light rain throughout the day in much of Kanto.  Sun was predicted for Niigata on Saturday, then perhaps rain at night (heavy at times), and sun again on Sunday.  In any event, it would be warmer than on April 23 when we suffered through ice cold rain on a climb in Nagano.

We managed to join a fast, lead group from the 7AM start at one of the early traffic lights and rode with them for quite awhile.  One member, Azuma-san, had ridden at Chiba with Jerome the week before (and also was known to me from at least the Chubu 1000 event last October).  The group included Kondo-san, who was identified to us by the two organizers who drove the course and were waiting at each checkpoint (Take Kawano, who attended university in the U.S. and so speaks native-level English, and a woman whose name I did not get, who said she used to ride Brevets but has not done any in the past 2 years).  Kondo-san’s name was spoken with some reverence by just about everyone, including the organizers.  He completed the 600 km in around 25 hours – first to finish by a huge margin.  I see from Audax Japan’s listing of results from prior years that his time for last October’s Saitama 600 was 2 hrs 40 minutes faster than the second rider and over 3 hrs ahead of #3, with the next 100 riders much further back.

A decent tail wind made it easy to ride in a group at 38-40 kph, subject to frequent interruptions for traffic signals.  Despite the stop-start and the urban sprawl, my average moving speed over the first 50 km was above 29 kph – excellent for a Brevet.  But then a dropped cue sheet led to a missed red light, and I lost contact with the fast group.  A bathroom break and a wrong turn (adding 2 km – 1 km out and 1 km back after realizing my error) put me further behind.  I had used Ride with GPS and drawn the GPS track for this ride, separating the ride into “outbound” and the “return” legs and loading them onto my Garmin Edge 705.  (Please click on the links to see these routes -- and let me know if you have any difficulty accessing them.  It is very easy to draw the tracks, for any of you Garmin users who have not tried it).  Unfortunately, when testing whether the track was actually visible on my Edge 705, I left the “return” leg showing on the map, instead of the “outbound” … which did me no good after the two routes separated about 30 km into the ride.  I took a few minutes to fix the problem to avoid further wrong turns now that I was apart from the lead group.

Jerome, who had struggled the first 10-15 km as usually, was finding his form and stayed with the leaders to the first checkpoint (97 km).  I caught another group, but found it difficult to ride with them.  The lead rider refused to move up alongside a line of cars to a traffic signal, or to anticipate the light changing to green by clipping-in and getting ready to go.  When he did go, however, he accelerated with a burst that caused my legs to throb after 15 or 20 traffic signals (we hit at least 10 red lights going through central Takasaki) … only to go into cruise control once the speed got up to around 35-37 kph, slower than the other group and slower than easily manageable in the tail wind.  Finally, the group scattered a few kilometers before the first checkpoint, leaving me behind on a hill … only for me to catch and pass a good number of them between the crest of the hill and the checkpoint.  In Takasaki, we passed by a group of 5 or 6 Positivo Catteni riders, who were at the roadside with bikes, apparently to meet and cheer on one of their members.  The Catteni rider in our event, who we saw at later checkpoints, said he plans to do PBP, as will Shintani-san, and several others from Catteni who had ridden the Chiba 400 last weekend.

After leaving the first checkpoint, Jerome and I rode as pair, quickly joined Gunma Route 36 and started a hilly section that included the only really steep-ish climbs of the trip – a few kilometers of 10%+ sections, though nothing like Wada or the other forest roads I had ridden recently.  We started passing riders from the 6AM start in greater numbers.  I made it up these climbs without problems and felt vindicated in my equipment selection.   I was riding the “bulletproof” wheels Nagai-san built for me at the end of 2009, with the heavy gauge 36-spoke rear/32-spoke front wheel and 2x spokes tied together (Mavic Open Pro CD rims, Ultegra hubs and a 12-25 cassette -- instead of my usual 12-27 or 11-28 cassettes).  With a compact crankset (50-34), this was plenty of gearing.  The wheels, and new Vittoria Open Corsa CX tires, had a plush, stable, confident ride quality and the Open Pro CD rims an excellent, even braking response … even if they are noticeably heavier and do not spin-up quickly.

We reached the end of Gunma Route 36 and joined National Route 17 (Mikuni Kaido) for the major, gradual climb of the trip, up the mountains, through a tunnel and down into Niigata via Naeba, Yuzawa, Minami-Uonuma and on toward Nagaoka.  The cue sheet became irrelevant – “take the next right turn after 91.8 km on Route 17”.  This was at least shorter than on the “return” leg, which takes Route 17 for 127.4 kilometers, after another 17 km which is mostly on other roads, but parallels Route 17, just to mix things up.  After an unscheduled rest stop at 600 meters elevation, at a very nice Lawson with a picnic pavilion in back overlooking the deep green waters of the lake behind Aimata Dam, we started to climb up the last 10 km and 500 meters of elevation gain to the tunnel.  I felt strong and climbed ahead of Jerome, passing several groups of riders who had left the Lawson before us, as well as more 6AM starters.

The descent through Naeba (current home of the Fuji Rock summer festival) and down the hill to Yuzawa (train transfer point) reminded me of the Alps.  This is ski country, with patches of snow left on most hillsides, covered “half tunnel” road sections – one side up against the mountain, the other side open and a roof on top), and wide roads with an extra “truck lane” for slow traffic coming up the hill.  The rivers and streams are all incredibly full, rushing huge volumes of water out toward the sea.  Unlike the Austrian or Italian Alps, however, many buildings at Naeba are at least 20 stories tall, and march right up the mountainside – a giant gash on the landscape.  I remember visiting these slopes back in 1986 as a student and novice skier.  For years after, the I would think of them whenever I heard someone speak of the uniquely Japanese concept of “man in harmony with nature.”

On the descent between Naeba and Yuzawa -- well after passing the skycraping condominiums of Naeba.

Even after we reached the lower elevations, and were riding on the flat or, at best, a 1% downgrade, we made great time, the wind generally at our backs and snowcapped mountains off to our right.

Looking East from Route 17 between Yuzawa and Uonuma

We finally turned right onto National Route 252, rested briefly at checkpoint #2, already 215 km into the ride, and headed up a gentle valley next to a roaring river, with snow in patches all around, even at low elevation.  We turned left and up a short climb on National Route 290.  As we began a long, winding and gradual descent, there was still light in the sky, but the sun was very low somewhere off to our left behind the nearest hills, and the snowcapped mountains in the distance to our right were turning a reddish hue.  Birds were singing. We passed flowering trees (the sakura must bloom almost a month later here than in Tokyo, 200+ km to the South/Southeast, just as it stays light noticeably later).  There were patches of melting snow everywhere, and people outside working in the fields or chatting with neighbors.  The overall impression was surreal, like a fantasy movie.  Is this the Shire?  Or is it one of the scenes from Kurosawa’s bizarre late-period effort “Dreams”?  Darkness descended after we returned to the flat and approached Mitsuke, Sanjo and rice growing areas north of Nagaoka.  The frogs begin to sing, very loudly, among the rice paddies.  As we approached the third checkpoint, still before 8PM, some big flashes of light filled the sky to the West, out over the Japan Sea.

Luckily, the rain started while we were still at the 3rd checkpoint, under cover of the convenience store roof overhang.  We donned our raingear -- Jerome put on the blue sail poncho -- and the Japanese riders and organizers looked a bit incredulous at us planning to ride in shorts, bare legs exposed to the falling water.  But the rain was cool and soothing, not freezing.  The rain strengthened as we headed toward the coastline, about 4 km from the checkpoint.  After a short climb, I entered a tunnel ahead of Jerome and maybe 5-6 others we passed since the stop.  I exited the tunnel into heavy rain, made a sharp left at the “T” where National Route 460 ends, joined National Route 402, the coast road, and continued for a few hundred meters in drenching rain.  I could barely see the mouth of the tunnel on Route 460, and in the dark I thought I saw Jerome (or at least it could have been Jerome – with one light on his helmet and one on his handlebars) exit the tunnel.  But he did not show up where I am waiting.  A few other riders came along and passed – he must not have crashed or slipped, so must have turned the wrong way at the “T” and gone down the hill heading North toward Niigata City.  I figure he will catch on quickly and turn around, when he finds himself completely alone, no one in front or behind.

I pushed on.  The cool rain felt great, as long as I kept moving and avoid being drenched by the occasional car or truck – almost no traffic now, but one car going North got me good with a splash that crosses from a trench in the far lane.  I passed more riders grinding it out in their heavy rain pants and rain parkas, and arrived to Checkpoint #4 before the organizers, almost passing the convenience store in the dark since there were only two cyclists there and two more whom I’d just passed on the approach.  (The store manager turned on his front overhead lighting once a large group gathered).  Take Kawano and the-nice-woman-whose-name-I-did-not-get pulled up soon after in the car, and reported that Jerome was en route, still quite some way back, having made the wrong turn as I feared.  I was feeling guilty – if I had been more mentally focused, I would have found a dry spot, pulled out my mobile phone, and tried to call him right away.  At the checkpoint, I waited about 30 minutes, standing in a small space between the open convenience store door and its front window/wall, just under the roof overhang.  A small frog walked up the crevice where wall met door, just over my left shoulder.  I got cold despite some  convenience store hot green tea, and my muscles stiffened.  On the bright side, it was only another 10 km to the hotel where I had booked rooms, right in front of Nagaoka Station.  We arrived as planned, just before midnight, 350 km done, 250 to go on Sunday.

After a bath, and about three hours of sleep, we met in the lobby a little after 4AM.  We ate a pathetic partial/first breakfast at the convenience store across the street, and pushed off around 4:30AM, extremely grumpy.  As we headed out of Nagaoka City and to the South, just about every convenience store we passed had at least one bike in front of it.  We were riding into a headwind, not heavy but noticeable.  The damp road dried quickly with the light of day.  We passed riders and made it about 35 kilometers before I cried “uncle” and we pulled over at a Seven Eleven.  At least there I could get a familiar ham and cheese burrito wrap (210 yen), and drink enough liquid to re-hydrate a bit more.

We started again, the wind gradually shifted, first to the left/rear quarter and then directly to our backs.  We continued the endless stretch on Route 17, the tailwind partially compensating for the gradual uphill slope, then after a quick stop by the roadside, the real climb began after the Yuzawa-cho town office.  Jerome felt strong and took off, refusing to be bested by another rider who was climbing near us.  I stopped briefly to rest, near collapse, and told myself I’d be fine as long as I got some more food, and refilled my nearly empty water bottles, at the next convenience store.  Unfortunately, there was no “next convenience store” for many kilometers.  I slogged along the remainder of the 15 km uphill to Naeba.  Stopping to rest just short of the “false summit” at 1000 meters elevation, before the dip down into the ski area, a woman rider came zooming up the hill.  She asked if I was alright and I said that yes, I would be, as soon as I got some nutrition.  She unzipped her front handlebar bag to reveal at least 10 different choices of snack, and offered me several of them.  I took the Snickers Bar and thanked her.  That got me over the top and down into Naeba, where I got some water (the greater need) and some instant cup noodles.  The proprietor told me it was exactly 3 km from his store to the mouth of the tunnel at the hilltop.  I was up the hill a little after 11AM – no idea how far ahead Jerome had gotten – and came out the other side knowing that the hard work was all done, ready to relax and enjoy the descent.

I felt a few drops of rain from a storm cloud perching just over the mountain top – again a reminder of riding in the Alps.  After the first few turns of the descent, I was hit by sudden, fierce gusts of wind.  I could see dust and leaves flying left, and right, ahead of me, both directions at the same time, and struggled to hold the bike upright.  Then the whole mess zoomed toward me.  I almost came to a stop – not sure whether because of the wind gust or because I grabbed the brakes … and the particulate entered my eyes.  In any event, I pulled off and washed my eyes with water, then some eye drops, and could see well enough to fight the wind – gradually diminishing with elevation – and get back to the Lawson at 600 meters.  The take away point: always put on your sunglasses before you start the descent.

From there it was a fast trip, more tailwind, down Route 17, around Numata and through a gorge filled with a rushing Tonegawa.   I joined, but was having trouble keeping up with, about 5 other riders.

Near Shibukawa, where the route turned East onto Gunma Route 34, I pulled over to rest and called Jerome.  It turned out he was just behind me, 200 meters down the hill around a corner.  He had waited an hour for me at the top of the climb, then given up and continued on, only to miss the turn off of Route 17 and go further, asking numerous people for help before finding his way back onto the course.  We went a few km further and then pulled into a local historical society “shiryokan” which also had a vegetable stand of sorts and a park.   I lay down in the grass under a beautiful “iroha momiji” tree, the wind rustling and tree swaying, beautiful blue sky and puffy white clouds.  I felt as if I were Tolstoy’s Prince Andrei in War and Peace, lying wounded at the Battle of Austerlitz, staring upward and contemplating life.

But it was time to move on.  We arrived at the last checkpoint and found some of the riders who I had had difficulty keeping up with along the Tonegawa.  They looked like they also had just gone through the Battle of Austerlitz, but their faces were drained of all color, and eyes were not facing skyward.

We continued on.  From here 75 km left, mostly heading due south.  The first 15 km would be a gradual downhill (1% or so) and the entire leg had a nice stiff tailwind, to counteract the heat and frequent traffic lights.  We made good time (Jerome competing with, and out sprinting, Azuma-san in the final kilometers; me saving my last few muscle fibers and already thinking about Itoigawa and wondering if I would recover fully in two weeks).  Despite the various false starts, missed turns, and 4 1/2 hour stretch off the bike at Nagaoka, we finished in under 36 hours.

We still have some things to learn as Brevet riders.

First, once we decided to sleep, we really should have given ourselves another hour or two of rest.  We had plenty of margin for error to finish under 40 hours, and I think if I had slept 1-2 more hours, I probably would have shaved an hour off of the time I spent on the climb up Route 17.

And in hindsight, we each would have done this much faster if we had ridden alone instead of waiting for each other.  Jerome would not have waited for me at the first checkpoint, or, a much longer wait, at the top of the climb on the return leg.  And I would probably have pushed on, despite the rain, from the 4th checkpoint on Saturday night, not stopped at Nagaoka but continued another 65-75 km to "Kenko Land" -- the 24/7 public bath/onsen and rest house in Yuzawa, which would have made Sunday a reasonably short day.

Finally, if driving to an event, always good to check that all your gear is in the car before leaving home!