Japan - Kyushu Day 10, The Way Home

Despite my long days and some shadowy nights, the elusive 200 km fully loaded ride has still eluded me. Call it my white whale. If for nothing else, missing out yet again is a positive happenstance; its still a reason to get back out there.

And on a day like today, a last day, these things are welcomed.

Sleeping under the trees is always nice - I get a calming sense of protection without the fear of colossal collapsing cement slamming all around you from above as you sleep, should Japan decide she wants to shake things up while you nap under a bridge. No, this is much more peaceful. And in the morning, a view like this also helps to melt away some of that last tour day depression because it reminds me of all the beauty awaiting just outside our doors, if you can wake up and see it. 

The hanging branches provided the perfect contrast against what I can only call the most purple sky to wake up to. Even in Thailand, a morning surprise as this one is really special. To wake up with it in Japan, after the rain that has been, leaves me astonished.

I didn't even have breakfast, at least not at first. I didn't pack away my tent and I didn't collect the few things the wind had knocked down to the ground which I had left on my bike to hopelessly dry in the humid night air. I just sat down, and watched the glowing sky slowly blend together over itself like so many colors conjoining and competing for their space next to the Sun. 

And as for as beautiful as that morning sunrise was, these things, like money, are never meant to last. You just have to enjoy them as you have them. And now the color was gone, replaced by clouds that only had one very simple goal, their only goal, in mind. 

When I returned home from a visit to family or vacation as a child, the San Francisco fog was a clear sign in my eyes: welcome home. The San Francisco fog is its own brand, with its own misty distinction. Still, when I see it in other regions of the World, I cant help but think of those long BART rides home when in between certain stations you can look out, and see the fog.

Now the fog is here once again, and today it blocked my sight for a good portion of the way home. That's alright, I've taken this way a few times now and do not have to rely on my maps or worry about missing highway exchanges. No, today, like those days before, I get to enjoy the fog.

This is not a picture from today. If you go back and see, its a picture from day one of this trip, nine days ago. And the only reason I bring it up is because....

...because today I snapped the same picture and the difference is remarkable. So thick the fog is today that it feels as though I have been cycling through a rain cloud. 

Making it out of the rain cloud and into some very familiar slopes, I wanted to pause and snap this telling photo of how relaxing some stretches can be. I've mentioned this before, how the bamboo and trees learn to live together to create a superb peripheral view as the slopes increase more and more into the final climb.

Mud on the face. Only a score of kilometers left and mother nature was not going to take it easy on me. The rain kept coming, the cars splattered me unintentionally, and tunnels leaked dirt and grime from their ceilings. Even my own fenderless tires insisted I arrive home appropriately as any long traveler ought; dirty.  

I was not paying attention, I did not care to explain even if I could, to whether or not any one recognized me as I welcomed myself home. After all, I don't live in all that large a town. I did feel some stares fall upon me, understandably, as I waited at those last few stoplights home; and the curious face upon the chance encounter with my landlord as I began unhinging my soggy tent and panniers in front of the apartment complex left me smiling. Delusional, I'm guessing, in his eyes. Yet there was nothing delusional about the smile to me. Dirty, depleted, and hungry, I had made it.

Oh, whats a hungry Mexican to do? Better round up some veggies and make some pico de gallo salsa, its time to eat! I didn't even waste time showering. Partly because I was indeed so hungry, yes. Partly because I so enjoy the feeling of being alive.

I also, with no gluttonous demur at all, devoured two onigiri (one seaweed, one shrimp), a big bowl of cereal (bag partly pictured above), two pieces of yellow cake, some shaved ice, and an ice cream. Its ok (well, not ok) because I've cycled my way back down to 64.7 kg and could use the weight. Oh, and I also watched Godzilla versus Moth-man because, ya know, its Japan.

My second course is a little more filling, a little more meatier. For all the traveling I've managed without using a stove, the feeling of getting back under some fire and cooking your own meal is priceless. The creative freedom, the anticipation of your creation, the satisfaction of accomplishment - I love it.

And how about that? Go, Moritz, and his girlfriend sent me a welcome home bottle of Kyoto sake to go along with my dinner. Perfect =)

Yes, yes, plenty of laundry to do the next day. Speaking of which, my body is still itching to go go go at 5:00 AM and I am forcing myself back to sleep. There is only so much I can clean at home after all.

I also gave my bike a tune up in the next few days, and a bath. She's been so good to me and my sister over the years. 

So that it, the end of a mini cycling tour across this fine land. I've checked off the island of Kyushu which means there are only two main islands out of the five remaining: Hokkaido and Okinawa. Then there's that slippery 200km day I need...so don't go anywhere just yet. I've had to return home for a few work related meetings but also to make my home available to host a couple of other travelers out of this typhoon season. Its a wet world, have to offer shelter when I can.

And for all my bitching you had to read through, about the bitter calamities of cyclo-touring through Japan in the rain, remember that it is just as it has always been said -  that the destination is never the juice of the this exotic fruit called opportunity. The sweetness, the satisfaction, the juicy treat is the journey at its center. Its in the process of the task, so you had better enjoy it; good or bad, evil or virtuous, wet or dry.

Mucu,much love my friends and family. I'll be back soon, they say August is the month of festivals.

-A

Japan - Kyushu Day 9, The Waves That Crash

Come what may, today's morning is my last on the wet island of Kyushu for a while. At least until another stretch of vacation comes my way. Unsure of the future, I took a few moments to embrace this morning sunrise. Despite not being the most elegant or inspiring scene, it held true the predictions, for the day at least, of rain and wind.

Today's errands are not at all exciting, I'll warn you now. It's been a little over a week of getting on my bike everyday and cycling a good if not great amount of traveling distance. So, with my home in Tosa city about 220km away, and through a route I was already familiar with, I mostly kept my eyes forward and enjoyed the nice ride from the central mountain ranges down to the coastal city of Saiki without taking many pictures. There, I'd hop on the ferry back to Shikoku.

Morning view outside my tent. Not holding my breadth for much sun today, the air already is moist and heavy.

And so I rode,  and rode about 80km down to the docks to catch my boat. The winds arrived at the end of the ride, just enough to push me in the right direction of the ferry terminal. And when I did arrive, all before breakfast or quick convenience store rest, I realized I'd have to wait an hour before the three hour ride back to my home island. 

Quickly after buying my ticket ($47 and change for me and my bike) I switched out of my clothes and into something looser and dryer than the moist spandex that has been my uniform these last nine days. 

Finally on the boat home, I quickly fell asleep under a well used rectangular foam pillow on the matted floor, the appropriate space for general travelers. Divided into six areas and partitioned by a simple grid of low reaching shelves (enough for currious children to tippy toe their questioning eyes over), families and other people claimed their space and we all fit comfortably with ease. Some people ate, some people began reading, most did as I and rested.

When I did wake up, it was was with a quick and immediate sense of trepidation that snapped me from groggy to alert. I looked around and many people where anxiously looking out the window, many people looked nervous. 

Taking a survey of my surroundings yielded a sobering feeling, the ferry boat rocked from left to right hard in the outside water, the sides of the ferry colliding rough against the waves; so much so that if I was to look outside my nearby window I could see the bottom of the sea at one moment, and be aimed at the ominous sky the next. We were being rocked heavily against the waves which battered us with impunity. 

After a while of being shook awake by the waves, we settled down a bit and I managed to sneak outside to watch the great sea. The snappy, salty wind rushed into the cabin hallway as I opened the door and knocked over some free standing flyers behind me. I shut the door, grabbed an outdoor rail, and made my way down to the viewing area reserved for passengers.  

You can't tell from the photo but the small propeller on this model airplane twirled so very very fast you'd think it was ready to zip off on its own.

I am trying to capture here the degree of tilt that the ferry swayed with. Take a look at the bottom cross, right next to the dingy boat. Compared to the sea line underneath it, we swayed back and forth heavily for a good enough time to silence the guests. Fortunately enough, I've never been sea sick. I cannot say the same for some unlucky soul who locked himself in the men's toilet stall. 

Despite looking calm at most times, waves took turns crashing into alternate sides of the ferry, creating huge shots of white water that sprayed me as I stayed outside for a while, peering off into a vanishing horizon of sea salt and rainy clouds. 

As we came between the two islands, the waters calmed until only the normal back and forth of any boat rocking was slightly felt. Staying outside through it all makes you feel so uncomfortably helpless. For if anything serious were to happen, I question how long anyone of us would survive the cold, open water. 

They say space maybe the final frontier, but there areas of the ocean we can still not reach, species we have not confronted, and a wealth to learn for underwater excavations. Ass the old adage goes, the ocean provides.

Once across and back on my own turf, the day had already crossed into afternoon/early ravening with a good 130 km left on the trip home. I reasoned that since I had rested for a good time on the ferry that I should make the trip. After all, being so close, I was eager to lay in my bed again. 

But, I was hungry. Starving really, I hadn't eaten more than a vending machine snack all day. So I put a corner store snack on hold in exchange for quick 20km to the next town for some real food. And, I found it.

Looking back, I guess I was too hungry to snap a photo of the Udon I had at the restaurant. Yet I do remember the conversation I had with the waitress. She was currious about my bike and handed me some more tempura after I told her where'd I'd been the last few days. She didn't like the sound of me taking on 130 km with only three or four hours left of sunlight, and all I could do was to shrug my shoulders. 

Despite that, I couldn't help a feeling that she might be right. A sigh is all I gave myself when I realized that I'd be one more day on the road. Not because I would stay one more night outdoors but because I had wanted to take on a 200+km/day fully loaded ride, at this would be my last chance. Oh well, nothing for nothing, I still found a sweet spot to camp and am supper happy to set up a space wilhile the sun was still warm and the Mosquitos not yet on the hunt. 

Not bad huh? Yeah, it's ideal for all intents and purposes. A table, some cover, and a level ground. Knowing that tomorrow will be a familiar route back home means I can switch over to auto pilot, kick up my feet, and cruise on home with little dismay. Oh, what a life.

Ok peoples, I'm hopping offline now. I'll be back tomorrow with a last entry and future plans. 

Much Love,

-A

Japan - Kyushu Day 8, Asō Mountain

Bring on the rain. 

I'd have to start thinking that the rain will be an inevitable part of my trip, shelter or no. The storm that was a day behind is now right on my back, it's winds sometimes help push me forward down nice straightaways. Seems as though typhoon winds can move faster than I can.

There are two ways to get around Asō, the north and the south. I was to track from the west and opted to go through the southern valleys so I could end in town, which kept itself on the opposite northern ridges of the range. Even if it meant less shelter options. 

I do recommend traveling this way if you can, counterclockwise from the west if only because you will be rewarded with a dramatic descent. It's worth it.

So, this turned out not to be the prettiest day but that depends on your aesthetic perspective. Google mount Asō and you'll see plenty of clean shots. Let's throw some dirty ones up there.

I actually did rest very well last night, I'll even go as far as saying it was the best sleep I've had on the trip outdoors. It didn't even rain (that hard).

Not that my relatively dry night would be any indication of the weather to be for the day. Right or wrong, wet or dry, I was determined to keep moving because I had already made the U turn point away from Nagasaki, since then I've been making my way East back home again. In other words, I have an end goal again (partly, my warm, dry bed), and that makes things a little easier for me mentally. Something to push for. It's how I explain to people who don't believe they can do what I do. I tell them it's not physically difficult, if anything that's the easy part. 

So, despite cycling under grey clouds punctuated by dark and windy downpours, I pushed through the day. The photo is of my first (one of many) resentful rest point, just one hour into the morning. 

It's hard to capture rain on camera and film, something directors have struggled with for years (some clever directors who insist on showing rain cleaverly spray their actors with larger droplets, or add milk to the water to make the rain more visible on camera). Anyways, trust me, this is beyond simple umbrella weather.

Here is my second resentful rest point; an abandoned restaurant that I waited under for about an hour as tour buses and family filled cars rubbernecked my existence. 

The rain was at least giving me a pattern to work with. If I felt a few drops come down, I'd look up. You can easily spot the rain clouds. If the clouds didn't look good, scramble! Because in about two and a half minutes you are going to be caught in something terrible, as seen here by water gushing off the roof gutter.

Note: this picture and the one before it are identical. The former was shot just after landing, the latter at it's worst.

Not sure what the government is pumping out of the mountain here but the idea of using it as a water slide ride in the off season is too perfect to overlook =)

One of the smaller peaks of the day. Unfortunately, no paths up this one.

This shot dutifully depicts the coexistence of clouds and rain clouds. Bright and dark grey, light and shadow, they speed at which the sky swapped it's physical prowess astonished me! Not especially good for tuning out and daydreaming while cycling, you'll get caught up. 

Sigh, another resentful rest stop. You can see that never is there much room to hide under, and even if the roof pulled out a little more, you're never truely protected from splattering droplets carried by the wind. Man, I've never been so thankful for waterproof panniers - thanks Sis!! In the old days carrying my green fabric front panniers, I'd either have a wet tent, or wet clothes by now. 

Blah, more rain. You can see the streets beginning to flood downhill but I had no choice. Had to keep moving around the mountain to the city in the North where there ought to be food and permanent shelter.

A moment, literally, of clarity, yay! My feelings perfectly rerepresented in the expression of this bear character made from hay. If it were more clear, I believe we'd see the tip top of Asō from here. Alas, carry on.

The sacristy of available sheltering options sharply decreased as I continued circling my way north east. At this point, I had to sneak under someone's driveway. They either didn't see me, didn't care, or weren't at home because I hung out here for a good amount of time to watch what was left of the soil turn to sludgy mud. 

Now, "why not just cycle in the rain Andrés? You are going to get wet anyways." Yeah, it's true. However, there is a HUGE difference, a massive chasm of separation between cycling wet and cycling drenched. I've cycled drenched before; the wet socks, the soaked scalp, the slippery hands - not fun. Cycling wet is manageable - if you have the proper strength and patience.

Ah yes, this is what it's all about! Finally reaching that top, the final crest! It's all downhill from here, and what a ride. I'll say it again: if you plan to cycle around Asō, go counterclockwise, this is all worth it. What a sweet descent.

There is really only one Japanese food option after days like today, soup. Ramen or udon, miso or shoyu. Doesn't matter, eat up! 

As you can see before, I scouted my map for a place to sleep tonight. Just my luck, there happens to be a michi no eki in town, and I made haste toward it. Yet, I wasn't happy when I pulled up. There where some green spots, nothing worth camping on, and nothing covered.

Very demoralized about being shot down from a convinient area to camp, added by the fact that I would now have to go hunt for a new place to pitch tent, I climbed back on the bike, kicked a low gear, and rode up this cool looking tunnel out of town. At least I'd be making headway for tomorrow's ride off Kyushu, I'd have to be happy with that.

Slick roads calling my name; goodbye Asō!

Shelter always seems to find me just in the nick of time. Here is a tall roadside rest spot kind of thing that will do fine. The roof is a little high to cover the rain effectively but I'm not that picky now that night had fallen. Roll out the footprint and assemble that tent because I'm ready for bed.

I made really good progress today in the face of rain, just over 110km. Looking at the map for the rest of the trip, I will have to plan how I divide the rest of the way home. Looks as though I can have one really long day, or two shorter days. Though, taking in mind how the weather has left me depleted and cold tonight, I might just make one big 200km push tomorrow and be done with it. We'll see.

Love and warmth,

-A

Japan - Kyushu Day 7, Half a Day

Let the good times roll. The day of fun with old bud Yoshi and new friend Kanosuke in Amakusa was over, and even though Konosuke's mother asked us to stay another day and rest while she practiced her English, she agreed that it was best to keep moving after we saw that another typhoon was coming that I needed to stay ahead of. All for the better I suppose, although with different circumstances I would have loved to stayed longer with such nice people, practicing my Japanese, and eating home cooked tempura and all. Mmmmm!

My next destination point will be my last, it is the great mount Asō. The trip should drop me in a beautiful mountain range in the middle of Kyushu, a famous attraction for nature lovers. What's more, this volcanic beast is still active! Like some treks I did in Indonesia, Id have to be careful with the toxic sulphur and other deadly fumes steaming out from its center. 

But as you can see, the forecast, surprise, is not promising. "Brief rain," well, I can deal with that.

Unfortunately, my friends back home in Tosa city are not so lucky to have a "brief" spurt of anything. It's the heaviest rain they've seen in years, and already has the government issuing early evacuation warnings. You can tell where Tosa is, it's the highlighted region marked by the deepest purple. From what I've read and heard, the streets are flooded and things arnt looking good.

Kyushu is not without it's sudden flash falls of water. The weather varys from light sprinkles to panics in search for cover. Here, under this cement bridge, I stop for breakfast. That is, I had just left Nosuke's home and already had to break.

Thank a god that his mother packed me something special for the trip. Home made onigiri goes a long way; they seem to be the travelers snack of choice, both to be given and chosen by all the cyclists I've come across in Japan. Hey, I'm not complaining. These were still warm to the touch as I enjoyed them. 

A lonely island, at least the weather picked up for a few hours, not bad.

One of my favorite stretches of road on the way to mount Asō. When the rain isint falling, it's too bad the weather isint cooler. The dampness of everything you carry is a bummer after a while. The strong winds really are a mixed blessing. It's nice to have a breeze cool you down, if at the cost of it also sometimes slowing you down.

Out of Amakusa to Asō would not have been long, not more three quarters of a good days ride. But, it was laundry day and we had such a good time last night that I forgot to ask for some help. 

If there's one thing Japan has in every city and town besides convenience stores, it's laundromats. Good thing too, I was beyond my last pair of good cycling shorts.

What was a few on and off again bouts with unridable rain turned out to be a prety nice day. Lots of green fields and blue mountains to go along with the roads. I'm praying that the sky won't show any too dark clouds in anticipation of the imminent typhoon storm following me.

Giant soy sauce fish monster spotted off the coast of Nagadaki! 

The wooden table I camped out near. Nice and broken in, I love this look.

With relitively little rain and current blue skies, I risked it; I was going to hold off looking for shelter and camp out underneath the starts. After all, my tent has a cover for a reason, right? 

Also, side note, I found a cheap Sento today by the park. Ahh! What a good feeling to scrub down with hot water after all this time. The steam room, jacuzzi, and ice cold water baths were great too =)

My goodnight view. The palm trees in this prefecture trigger lonely thoughts of the California coast line back home, especially my aunts in San Diego. 

Before I wrapped things up, a man came up to me and asked if he could take my photo. He was taking pictures around the park of the sunset and what not. We got to talking a bit, turns out that he's been traveling also, by car, from Tokyo! Blessed with the space for a cooler in his vehicle, he tossed be a large water, some snacks, and an energy drink cola - all of which I took down as we chatted and looked at maps together. 

Well the long grass makes for great padding, the wind is cool, and I've set up everything for an early nights rest. I have a feeling I'm going to have some really relaxing sleep tonight.

All the best, Love

-A

Japan - Kyushu Day 6, Rest, Rain, And Refining Friendships

Well, sort of rest.

When Yoshi messages me yesterday as I stood erect under a sliver of overhanging convinience store roof, avoiding the blanket of dark rain falling all around me, I was inspired to join him and meet one of his friends he met six years ago on his first hitch hiking trip through Kyushu. It all had the hint of good times to come.

So I cycled off from my wonderous bus stop shelter where I had spent the night knowing I'd only need a short bit of road to cover before arriving at the ferry port to make a quick jump into Amakusa where indoor comforts await. In retrospect, this was perfect. A perfect time to rest up and prepare for the turn around back home.

Yoshi and I had agreed to meet in this little village where his friend lived and although I was expected, I wasn't expecting Yoshi to relaxing on the edge of the cemented blockade overlooking the sea, waiting for this guy to show up in the misty rain. 

Shortly after arriving.

Well first things first! The day was actually cool and the clouds were taking a break from soaking is wondering travelers, so we found a corner store and supplemented out reunion with indulgences. 

A quick look around the park we say in and this giant statue made itself known. Something about a local fisherman legend, from what I could read. You can see the wooden plaques under that awning behind me. Those are scripted prayers left to be answered on day.

If you remember, Yoshi was going around Shikoku island not just for the sake of cycling through and across, he was completing the semi-obligatory Japanese pilgrimage of the 88 temples. Everyone must/ought to pray at these 88 temples once before they pass away. 

Here, is not one of them. Obviously, we are on Kyushu island, not Shikoku. However Yoshi is a spiritual dude, what can I say? 

After a initial greetings and a shower we sat around and got to know each other very well. Here we all are; Konosuke's mother, Yoshi, my bike and I. The family runs a electronic shop business here and in the main city selling air conditioning units, televisions, washer/driers and the like.

Of course the best part after the people has to be the home cooking! Famina, the mother, really cooked up an enexlected feast - home fried octopus tempura, vegetable tempura, katsuo, tofu, rice and curry, spinich, fish, garlic, and deep fried oysters. Yup! 

After the meal, we helped clean the table and dishes, as well as helping to finish all the last bits of food. I wanted to take a big nap but thought it might be rude. Yoshi, Famina, the grandmother and I all kept talking, explaining where we have been, what to expect, practicing each other's language. 

Something came out if the conversation of good fortune. As it turns out, Konosuke's mother will be dancing in a night parade, a celebration of the summer season. She showed off her kimono and was off to one last rehearsal. Yoshi and I were to wait at home for Konosuke (who I still haven't met yet to this point) to finish work before venturing off, by car, into the city for the celebrations. 

Konosuke's mother, Famina, waving in the parade. 

What you'd expect at a night parade: floats, dancing, drums, lots of people, street food, and children lighting off small fireworks, because, you know, it's Japan. 

Parade performers.

Ah, finally Konosuke finishes work and just in time. Also, don't get the wrong idea just because I'm holding a beer in all these photos. By the end of the night, I was clearly the most sober.

With the sparkling of the floats gone and the hypnotic demands of the giant taiko drums wearing off, there was only one thing left to do: eat horse.

Yes, eat horse. Why not? Not an American meat for sure, actually we export lots of horse meat each year. 

While the previous photo shows slightly cooked meat over an open flame, the real delicacy in town is ba shi mi. "Ba" being a substitute for uma or horse, and shi mi is the abbreviated form of sashimi, I knew what I was getting self into. Actually, I was somewhat expecting it. Kyushu is known for horse meat. And as I have already tried so many other "unusual" cuts of animal meat, I'm open to new references of tatse. 

All pretty happy at this point.

And so the night went. Konosuke's friends coming to our table, having a drink with the traveling cyclists (at this point I've stoped identifying myself as "America gaijin" [forigner] and replaced the market as jitensha gaijin, which, is more like saying I've come to cycle around for a bit), and soon being replaced with another wave of people at the bar. 

Beer glasses clanking like clockwork, the night passed away quickly and in the morning I was happy to wake up to the sound of rain outside, knowing I wouldn't have to pack a soggy tent. Still smiling, I rolled over and easily entered another course of content relaxation. 

Much love,

-A