Cruzbike -- A better recumbent bicycle design?

With "normal" road and touring bicycles, design is a matter of minor refinements.  Different sizes, thicknesses and shapes of tubing, a slightly more or less compact triangle or maybe some "aero" features.  There is very little in the way of radical departures in design. The basic frame geometries were established long ago. UCI rules enforce orthodoxy, as do the laws of physics and human anatomy, which intersect well with the longstanding main+rear triangle design, and a relatively narrow range of front fork "trail" and other measurements.  Deviate too far and you will be punished with an unrideable monstrosity.

In contrast, recumbent bicycles still leave a huge amount of room for experimentation. First, the UCI rulebook is thrown out the door. And the different seating positions allow different approaches to the human/bike interaction and to accommodation of human anatomy. We see everything imaginable -- from fully faired "velomobiles" to trikes with the rider lying on his/her back inches above the ground, to almost "normal" looking seated riders, to large aluminum boom-based bikes like the popular Bacchetta (Italian for "stick" or "rod"), and mix-and-match versions of these and other concepts. Recumbents are interesting to look at and figure out just how (and how well) they work -- with their long chains and tensioners.  I enjoyed riding nearby many recumbents at PBP -- passing and being passed by the same riders many times on the rolling hills outbound from Paris the first evening as light faded.  I would pass on the climb, a recumbent would pass back on the descent.  Repeat.  Repeat.  and ... repeat.

I once had a Trek R200 recumbent, purchased at a deep discount on a close-out sale when I lived in the U.S.  It had a "double rear derailleur" drivetrain, a rear suspension, and small wheels.  It was the only recumbent model Trek ever made, and it is the only Trek bike I ever bought. I gave the R200 to a friend when I moved to Japan -- the heavy, unwieldly frame was not something to add to our moving baggage, and I had no idea where I would store it in Tokyo. Besides, it was SLOW climbing hills.  I could almost feel the blood rushing to my head as I desperately, slowly, spun up the road near our house with my toes pointed into the air.

Trek R200

In Japan, I have never considered a recumbent.  A bicycle that does not climb well is poorly suited for a country where all the good rides involve mountains! Nor is a design that is bulky, hard to store and that cannot easily fit in a "rinko" bag or onto a train well-suited to Japan.  Even the lightest recumbent is around 12 kgs -- probably 50% heavier than a typical road bike.

But last summer at PBP, one of the U.S. riders staying at my hotel had a recumbent, a Cruzbike Silvio.  It struck my eye immediately.  Most recumbents have long, long chains stretching from the pedals in front all the way to the rear wheel, a tensioner/guide somewhere in the middle of the chain. Like this:

A Bacchetta -- long wheelbase and very, very long chain.

The Cruzbike is a bit different.

-It has front wheel drive!
-The chain length is about the same as a "normal" upright road bike.
-The bottom bracket and front pedals and cranks are on a rotating steerer stem connected to the handlebars and fork.  They are also connected to the wheel by front "chain stays" -- a kind of "front triangle."

The Silvio, which has some "suspension" to soften the ride in the rear, looks like this:

I was told that this demo bike, used at a recent show in Seattle, is available for $4000 at Rose City Recumbents.
Normal retail for the Silvio/standard build is something like $4400
A frameset is available for $2600 direct from the manufacturer.  .

There are other models besides the Silvio, and the fastest is now the Vendetta, which features a more horizontal rider position and no suspension.

In order for the front wheel to steer the bike, and also drive the bike, the bottom bracket and pedals are not attached to an immovable boom, but rather to a set of stays with the handlebar that turns along with the front wheel.

When I first examined it at PBP, the bike looked odd.  Especially the need to adjust pedaling leg lengths as one turns.  But the rider I met said it is easy to adjust to the moving BB and that his Cruzbike climbs well.  The manufacturer website notes that Cruzbike holds RAAM and other records for speed and is the only recumbent that "climbs like a road bike".  The climbing capability comes from the ability (and need) to use one's upper body while climbing, to push the bars opposite of the leg that is applying power -- very similar to when "dancing", out of the saddle, on a normal road bike.

Rose City Recumbents were kind enough to let me test ride the Silvio.  They warned, however, that it is not easy at first to ride a Cruzbike.  Almost impossible until you "get the hang of it".

They were right!  I struggled for about 15 minutes, but the best I could manage was 3 or 4 pedal strokes before I would veer off to one side and need to put a foot down to stop from falling.  Often I would only get in a single stroke.  They told me that I should sit upright and push with my legs to get up some speed before sliding into the seat and trying to pedal. Eventually I settled on downhill starts, on a ~2% incline nearby the shop.  This allowed me to practice balancing on the bike at various speeds WITHOUT trying to pedal.

After a break for a scheduled telephone call, I tried again.  With the downhill starts, I at last managed to pedal smoothly while remaining upright.  I could make it down a street of 2 blocks, turn a corner, then climb a steepish hill into a cul de sac.  After putting a foot down, I could head down the hill, around the corner and back up the first street.  After a few more trips, I could sense when the bicycle was going fast enough so that I could steer by leaning, and when it was slow enough so that I needed to "use my feet" as I was told.

So after a total of 30 minutes on the bike, I could at least get the sense that, yes, I could ride this without difficulty if I worked at it.  And I could see Jonathan, of R.C. Recumbents, ride another Silvio in tight circles and even with his hands off the bars.  Jonathan said it took about a week until it felt as easy to balance on the Cruzbike as on a normal bike.  He said kids can do it right away ... especially those whose muscles remember riding a "big wheel" tricycle.  Regular cyclists need to "unlearn" their usual tricks before they can ride it successfully.

As for the overall feel, climbing was, indeed, a different sense than I remember from the Trek R200. Eventually, I think it might climb as fast on it as a road bike.  I immediately felt that I was putting MORE pressure on my knees pushing the pedals and driving my back into the seat cushion than I normally would spinning a road bike.  I would need to be careful not to use too big a gear on this bike. And I was definitely using different muscle groups than I normally do when riding.

A Cruzbike might prove to be a good way to ride long distances in more comfort than with a normal bike.  No worries about pressure on hands or butt/groin.  And it might be a great way to get through a truly "yuge" (as "the Donald" might say) cycling year without physical problems -- indeed, I have read that Kurt Searvogel used a recumbent on some days of his HAMR effort last year, to vary the punishment his body took in riding 75,000 miles in a year.

Maybe it is the way to the next level of craziness in cycling ...

To Atami ... and its slopes, and back on a sunny winter day

Miyagase-ko

More Miyagase-ko

Aikawa/Hanbara area after dusting of snow.

Sunday I rode my first brevet of 2016, a 200 kilometer trip from Inagi-shi to Atami and back sponsored by the Aoba (Yokohama) Velo Randonneurs group.  Aoba rides often start along the Tamagawa, within 10-15 kms of my home.  This one was a bit farther away, 17-18 kms, with start and finish at Omaru Park just at the base of the "hospital hill", making the day's ride 235-240kms total.

The Aoba volunteer "staff" for this ride included Tominaga-san and Minoda-san, two of the most intense commuting and randonneuring cyclists in this part of Tokyo.  Tominaga-san, whose 50+km daily roundtrip commute takes him down Komazawa Dori, and Minoda-san, who I sometimes see if I happen to be riding along the Tamagawa during commuting hours -- heading downriver on the Kawasaki side in the morning, back up on the Tokyo side in the evening.  Both much faster than me. Both signed up for the Saitama Audax 2400km "Japan end-to-end" ride scheduled for Golden Week. There were lots of friends and acquaintances among the riders on this event as well.  Aoba seems to attract a lot of regular, seasoned participants.  Lots of Audax Saitama PBP jerseys and 2015 Audax Japan vests produced for PBP (I wore mine).

Aoba staff at the finish ... still light after 5PM now!

Aoba staff at the "secret" control point on the descent south of Miyagase-cko

I left home a few minutes before 5AM, arrived at the Start just as the briefing was about to begin, and due to a quick restroom detour ended up near the back of the slower of "bike check" line and one of the last out on the road.

Start briefing 530AM

The first 30 kms traffic lights were a problem -- I was stopped at more than the usual number of lights heading out Onekan, and seemed to hit just about all of them going through Machida/Sagamihara area over to Aikawa.

The other problem was ice.  Just a few minutes after the start, crossing a bridge OVER Onekan, there was already an accident, a cyclist who has fallen, police van on site already with lights flashing, awaiting ambulance.  He apparently broke some bones (collarbone? arm?) but will recover.  We were ice-free until the area around Hanbara and Miyagase-ko, where again the road became a bit treacherous at points.  Yoshida-san (who I recently discovered is an executive at the Japanese subsidiary of a Netherlands-based company that acts as secretariat for a Tohoku rebuilding charity effort I have been involved with since 2011, and whose office I have been visiting regularly for the past 4 years) slipped on a patch of ice as we approached Miyagase, but at least did not break any bones and completed the ride.  He said this was his third brevet of 2017, already!

I made it through the icy patches without a problem.  I was riding the Renovo -- a rideable work of art -- with 700x28 Conti tires inflated to around 70 psi (4.8 bars) and so had much, much better grip on the roads than most of the cyclists I saw with their 700x23 or 700x25 tires at 90-110 psi (6.0-7.5 bars).

The Renovo was a joy to ride as always.  The combination of its wood frame and slightly larger tires really does seem to dampen the bumps and road chatter, so I feel less tired and jarred -- a noticeable difference on the last stretches of a long ride like this.

My clothes also worked perfectly, in weather ranging between 0 and 8~9 degrees Celsius.  I wore my Q36.5 "hybrid Q" tights and jersey/jacket.  While lighter weight than most winter gear, I find it perfect in this temperature range, with a long-sleeve inner layer and, during morning and evening hours, a light goretex rain shell.  The key for me is to keep head, hands and feet warm, then get by with as thin, light and breathable gear as possible over my trunk and legs, to reduce condensation and stay warm not only when I ride but when I stop to rest.  It worked perfectly on Sunday.

The highlights of the trip for me were (1) Miyagase-ko after a light overnight snowfall -- the photos tell the story, and (2) taking Route 740, the "old road", between Manazuru and Odawara.

Route 740 was a revelation for me, a way to get off of the horribly congested coastal Route 135 for about 10 kms of the trip between Odawara and Atami.  Of course, I assumed that if it is an "old road" and goes high through the hills of Izu, it must be impossibly hilly, right?  Actually, none of Route 740 was steep, and I think the total climbing was no more nor less than on the coastal route with its ups and downs.  With this road, I will consider cycling to Atami (or Manazuru/Yugawara) in a whole new light.

Mikan orchards line Route 740 looking out across the bay toward Oiso and Hiratsuka

The crowded coast road visible at the bottom of the hill

The event's route planner (the aforementioned Minoda-san) seemed to want to avoid a "flat winter brevet" and wanted us to go up and down some hills for training.  So the route included around 2200 meters of real elevation gain.  Most of this was to good purpose and took us through nice territory.  But after we arrived at Atami and took a circuit of the harbor area, there was one last nasty, steep climb up through the town and it seemed like half the way to Atami Pass (actually just under 200 meters of elevation gain), to the turn-around convenience store.  This was pure punishment, climbing on a narrow shoulder past a line of cars at over a 10% grade ... with little to no view for reward.  Still, it did manage to make the 200 km event seem, well, not so easy.

A rider wobbles into the turnaround check point, having just made it up the hill

Entrance to the Atami "plum garden" -- trees blossoming already in early February!

The Sagamigawa, on the way back into town

I made it back to the goal in just under 11 hours.  Not a fast time by any means but a very nice ride on a course that had its challenges.

Team Metabolic Racing (as in Japanese "metabo" or "metabolic syndrome"--Perhaps I could join?

Sunday's route.

Long bike

2015 -- Ended with an Exclamation Point!

Last sunset of 2015, from Kamakura on the Shonan Coast

2015 was for me a year of dramatic change.  So I was elated that I managed to complete the major cycling goals I set at the outset for the year, taking advantage of a nice, lengthy planned professional transition to complete both an "SR600" and Paris-Brest-Paris, while also participating in two very different, spectacular weeklong events--the Giro del Dolomiti and Cycle Oregon. According to my mileage log, I rode over 15,300 kilometers in 2015.

Despite all these highlights, this autumn I have been on the other end of the professional transition and very busy on all fronts.  I have only taken a handful of "classic" weekend rides with friends in the hills west of Tokyo.  No randonneuring.   Indeed, October and November were my two lowest mileage months since January, despite regular Wednesday 75+ km commutes to the Keio SFC campus.

For the last goal this year, I looked forward to the annual Strava/Rapha "Festive 500" -- ride 500 kms recorded by GPS and uploaded to the Strava site, and get sent a small cloth patch in the mail months later.  This trivial award is much better than other Strava challenges, which seem to offer mostly an "opportunity" to buy exclusive Strava-branded goods.

I've managed to complete the Festive 500 the last two years, but as of December 30, with only a day left, the situation looked bleak for this year.  I took a short Christmas ride on the 25th, but had other plans the 26th and 27th. On the 28th, I rode out of town in the morning and into town on a commute for an afternoon at the office and evening dinner, but only 90 kms.  Worse, I ate something that disagreed with me, and was so weak by the evening that I needed to lock my bike half way home and hop in a taxi.  On the 29th, I had planned to ride with my two sons, but one was not feeling well, so instead we substituted a much less strenuous plan than a bike ride.  On the 30th, other plans.  So with one day left on the Festive 500 calendar, I had ridden only around 220-230 kms out of 500.  270-280 kms remaining.  (There is some uncertainty because I had not realized Strava does not "count" a ride that is marked private -- which I had done for a few shorter local trips I was recording but did not think merited going into the Strava feed.)  I was considering a click on the "leave challenge" link.

Then again, what is 280 kms?  Less than Tokyo-Itoigawa.  Less than a 300 km brevet.  And riding for a Strava challenge, I could have complete freedom as to my course.  I could even change course mid-ride based on conditions -- come to a long red light?  Turn at the corner and head up the cross street, then cross it at the next signal and come back down the other side, turning again and continuing en route.  Do it all at a relaxed pace, and add 500-750 meters for what otherwise would have been sitting at a signal.

So after a look at a forecast for beautiful weather and only light winds December 31, I decided to go for it.  And did it -- leaving home shortly after 6AM.

I approach Maruko-bashi on the Tamagawa

I rode a classic winter course around the Miura Peninsula and the Shonan coastline to Odawara, and back again, and had a very nice time.

Through Minato-Mirai section of Yokohama.  No traffic around 7AM on December 31. 

At Hakkeijima on the southern tip of Yokohama.  Lost more fishing boats up ahead.

Through Yokosuka now

Near Kannonzaki Park

Agriculture on the southern tip of Miura, Chiba across the bay

Cats at the park on Jogashima -- residents, not visitors.

My first food stop was a convenience store around 115 kms, somewhere on the west side of the Miura Peninsula between Misakiguchi and Zushi.  My next food stop was around 180 kms, in Odawara.  Again, convenience store pasta for the "toshi-koshi" long noodles Japanese custom requires (okay, they really ought to be soba, but I needed the carbs!)

The outer moat of Odawara Castle

At the crossing to Enoshima

The final food stop was a convenience store again, when I was almost back to Yokosuka on the return.  I hopped the train at Motomachi/Chuka-gai station around 7PM.  Not bad for a 265km+ km ride.  Great conditions, ... almost no one driving, except for the LONG lines of cars at service stations as Japanese get a car wash and fill up the gas tank in preparation for the New Year.

I rode the Sky Blue Parlee with my Gokiso wheels -- the Parlee is a joy to ride -- and the 50mm carbon rimmed Gokisos take the minimum of effort to maintain a reasonably high speed.  For some reason, the hills of Miura looked much more gradual than I had remembered from the past.  And indeed, Strava tells me I rode "personal best" efforts on many, many of their segments over the ride.

Anyway, it was a good ride to end the year and complete the "challenge".  I am delighted to be in the same event, of a sort, as Kurt Searvogel and Steve Abraham, this year's two leading HAMR participants ... even if they were #1 and #2, while I was #6091 out of 72,349 participants.

As for 2016 ... stay tuned.  Plenty of epic rides in mind.

The New Bicycle Quarterly is Here!

I can remember the first year or two I was road cycling, I would enthusiastically pick up "Bicycling" magazine in the U.S. and read "ten tips on how to ride faster", "seven great coastal routes",  "five ways to climb faster", or maybe "six great meals that will help you to lose weight AND ride faster".   Of course, there were reviews of the latest bikes from Trek, Cannondale, Specialized and other advertisers.  After awhile, as my cycling experience and knowledge grew, I lost interest in these.

After I moved to Japan, for a few years I enjoyed "Cycle Sports", the widest circulation Japanese magazine for road cyclists and racers.  I would scan the annual list of "long ride" and "hill climb" events and discuss with friends.  And I still have filed away the issue from June 2009 which featured  the editors' selection of 20 best mountain passes of Nagano Prefecture (信州の峠 Over the Pass!). But I tired of the "one pattern" reviews, always a new model that was "better" than the prior year, always a nice test ride report for a major advertiser, one new carbon frame after another, each "better" than the last.  Another bike shop advertisement ...  nothing new under the sun.

So even as I started building up my own bikes, doing Audax rides and even building one of my own frames, I resisted getting any cycling-related publications for quite awhile.  But after seeing and riding with the Seattle Randonneurs at events in the U.S., Japan and elsewhere, and after meeting Seattle's Jan Heine of Compass Bicycles/Bicycle Quarterly at the post-Fleche party in Kamakura in 2014, I finally broke down and subscribed to Bicycle Quarterly.

I await its arrival eagerly.  The content is mostly a mix of stories from the Pacific Northwest, global randonneuring events such as PBP and LEL, and, yes, Jan & Co.'s recent fairly regular visits to Japan and sometimes elsewhere in East Asia.

The product reviews are very detailed, and even though they are "niche" products usually, they are thorough and add to my knowledge.  Jan got some unfriendly letters from readers when Issue No. 53 devoted a lot of ink to a Specialized bike, the Diverge, but with No. 54 BQ he is back to reviewing products from small, often custom builders, such as the NFE Elephant ("NFE" for "national forest explorer") which is designed for fatter wheels and touring over gravel and dirt roads.

The editors are opinionated and have a definite point of view.  I do not always agree, but I can appreciate that most of their opinions are developed from lots of testing, trial and error.  And they even offer some disclaimers when they have an obvious conflict of interest.

And almost every BQ issue has a feature on a Japanese builder, on how to "rinko" your bike, on a tour in Japan (Houshi onsen, or the Nihon Alps SR600, or otherwise).  Sometimes these offer a foreign visitor's view of Japan that is not really adding to my knowledge (a bit vague on route numbers and station/train line names, the occasional transposition of a Japanese first last name -- as in the caption to a photo of randonneurs "Jun Sato, Noriko Sakai, Matsumura Keisuke and Tak Kawano"), but often (as with the introductions to builders) they open my eyes to something near me of great interest. And as important, it is great to have even BQ's niche audience of randonneurs and other bicycle fanatics (5000+ subscribers?) learn what great opportunities there are for riding and touring by bicycle in Japan.

(I still wish that they would have credited this blog, or link to it, for their report on an attempt at the Nihon Alps SR600.)

Is BQ right for you?  You can get a taste of it at Jan Heine's blog.  You can check out a flip book there with some of the content.

Or, feel free to flip through one of my issues.  Or even borrow it ... if you promise to return it on penalty of death.

36 Views of Fuji (Litt)

First, there were Hokusai's famed 36 views of Fuji.

Then Hiroshige followed suit in the 1850s with another 36 view series.

Now I have started to work on my own series, depicting the modern Mt. Fuji, world heritage site whose view is revered in Japan.  Lots of buildings and power lines in the foreground!

A few of the new Fujis below ... check back from time-to-time as more may be added:

Otarumi Pass Fuji

Komae Fuji

Chofu Fuji

Tachikawa (South) Fuji

Tachikawa (North) Fuji

Shonandai (SFC) Fuji

Ayase Fuji

Komazawa Dori Fuji

Keio SFC Commute

This Fall I continue to teach a class at Keio University's Shonan Fujisawa Campus on Wednesday afternoons.  More often than not, I do the commute by bicycle, around 75-80 kms roundtrip from my home, and around 95-100 kms total if I also make a morning commute into town.

Morning trip into Tokyo on Wednesday ... included Rugelach and coffee at The City Bakery near Hiroo

Foliage at SFC

Winter nears at SFC

This mid-week ride really helps out when I cannot get in a weekend ride ... as this past weekend when I was traveling and only returned to Narita Sunday afternoon.  And now that I have done this regularly for a couple of years, it no longer tires me out noticeably!

Ready to start the ride home -- darkness comes early in December, but with my randonneuring lights this is not a problem.

Big December Ride ... Over Jukkoku Pass and into Nagano

We have had seesawing weather these past weeks in Japan, some days unseasonably wet, some days typical winter cold and wind, and even some days with lingering warmth of fall.  This weekend the forecast was for sun and high temperatures in the teens (C) (or in the 50s F).  I cannot ride next weekend because of work commitments, so this looked like it might be my last chance for the season to get into the higher mountains.

I planned an all-day ride for Sunday.  I wanted to get over Yanagisawa Pass, or Matsuhime Pass.  Both great climbs, high with views, and neither have I ridden yet this year!  Is there any year these past 7-8 that I have not made it to one or both of these?

I headed out solo Sunday morning just before 8AM, with a rinko bag, some extra clothes, and a dynamo light on the Ti Travel bike, knowing I would not be home (or to a train station for the trip home) before dusk -- around 430PM these days!  I had not committed to any route, but the plan forming as I rode up the Tamagawa was to stop in Oume at the Aurore bakery, then continue to Okutama-ko for an early lunch at the Yagyu-tei cafeteria (Mrs. Watanabe's place), then go for Yanagisawa Pass or, as a fall back, Matsuhime.  I wanted to revisit memories from the glory days of Positivo Espresso.

Everything went fine until I neared the Higashi-Oume Station area, and was met by a large number of police directing traffic away from main road.  I continued a little further and saw this scene.

Chatting with one of the policemen as I was directed to the side of the road by waves of his orange wand, he told me it was the Okutama Ekiden (relay).  The road was blocked off as far as Kori, but if I hurried via Yoshino Kaido, I had 45 minutes to get to Kori before the road would be blocked from Kori all the way up to Okutama.

I was not enthusiastic about skipping Aurore or riding against the clock to beat a road closure.  Nor did I want to loop over to Musashi Itsukaichi and climb a road I have been up repeatedly this year. So I decided to re-route via Chichibu.  One of the alternatives I had considered for today was to explore the area west of Chichibu, either to ride Route 299 over Shigasaka Pass then on to Saku, or to Karuizawa via the tunnel from Route 299 toward Shimonita, or maybe finally climb to Mitsumine Shrine SW of Chichibu City, a route on my list that I have never managed to do -- routes out of Chichibu City being too far for one-day round trip rides, and the train back via Ikebukuro being quite slow.

On Nariki Kaido, still some colored plants in December

In Naguri

Over a familiar pass.

Through Chichibu City -- on a bike path that actually says it is for exclusive use of bikes!

In the end, I decided to mirror a ride done in 2009 with Jerome, Tom and Nishibe-san, going all the way to Sakudaira via Route 299.

Route 299 west of Chichibu and Ogano - no traffic!
Where is everybody?  Even on bright sunny days in Golden Week this road is very quiet.

Route 299 on the climb to Shigasaka Pass

Route 299 in Gunma now -- still no traffic, and blue sky returns briefly.

The ride was spectacular, the roads quiet, and I ended up going 190 kms with around 2700 meters of climbing -- just what I was looking for!

And I stopped at the really nice roadside michi-no-eki Jerome and I had visited in 2010 (actually called a "kawa no eki" as it backs to a river in a really nice setting) for the best Japanese curry I have had in memory.  

The only problem was my schedule.  The late start and my leisurely pace meant that I was still climbing Jukkoku Pass (elev ~1315m) as the sun set.  I made it to the top at 445PM, in pitch dark.  The temperature dropped precipitously.  I put on my wind jacket, extra cap, and warmer gloves and started the descent.  Fortunately, at least the road was dry (on the climb there had been some small icy patches).  

National Highway (?) Route 299 approaching the Jukkoku climb

National (?) Highway 299 on the Jukkoku climb

At the top, in the cold and dark!

Within a kilometer, my hands were numb and could barely move within the gloves.  I stopped, and managed to put on my thinner gloves and use them as makeshift liners.  Still way too thin, and still numb hands.  I was thinking "what have I got myself into?"

I rode one-handed, trading off putting my other hand under my jersey/jacket.  It was a long, cold, dark descent.  But at least I knew the road on the Nagano side was relatively good, straight and wide compared with the tiny winding track up the Gunma side.  Finally, I was down around 850m elevation, the air temperature seemed above freezing, and I dismounted and rubbed together and breathed on my hands for 5 minutes or so until the full feeling had returned.

Then a gradual descent into Sakudaira on the new Route 2 bypass, a stop at a 7-11 for some chemical foot warmers for my shoes (better late than never), and a shinkansen ride home while enjoying some Karuizawa local beer.  

Mission accomplished!