Japan Exodus - Day 44: Keeping Fit

Diets never held much influence over me.

It’s not that I couldn't follow the restrictions, it’s that I never wanted to. Against the many modern suggestions for diet regiments, I believe the idea of constructing a diet in the general sense for the general public is absurd. Your intake ought to be highly personalized.

You could say I feel about diets the same way I feel about alarm clocks. It is better to eat what you want when you want it, the same way it’s better to sleep until you wake up, rather than when an alarm tells you to. Making adjustments along the way, your body and attitude falls into a natural rhythm and takes the shape you mold. 

Milk. Did you know that the first of our ancestors hundreds of thousands years ago could not digest cow’s milk? They lacked an enzyme to digest the kind of lipids found there. Today, we call these people lactose intolerant.

I never could tolerate lactose. A tall glass of milk would tear me up inside, and the fear of kidney stones made from unbroken calcium deposits is a pain I planned to stay away from. After all, there are other ways to consume calcium other than milk, such as broccoli.

However, when first cycling around Japan with sister, I found that not only is there a strong supply of soy-milk available in many flavors, but that I could also find the biological patience to tolerate calcium. Experimenting with many different dairy and dairy like products, the adjustment was made not so much to avoid dairy. That is not the key. What I found works best for me is to avoid those products that contain preservatives. That is the one factor which consistently has me reaching for more toilet paper across different foods and drinks. Those little individually wrapped milk substitute creamer cups that never need refrigeration? I stay away from those. But that’s me. 

Checking my heart rate via ipod application. The concept is really innovative actually. Using the light on your smart phone, the camera can pick up the pulse in your index finger (you can’t use your thumb, as that digit has its own pulse) and extrapolate your heart rate fairly accurately. This rate was taken “at rest” before I started backing away my belongings inside the tent. 

But what does it all mean? Well, I heart rate of 44, according to WebMD, is on the better side of a “well-conditioned athlete”. Not that heart rates are the only factor in health, but hey, it’s a great sign.

Also, what do you make of the layout of demographics here? Neely born babies have the highest “normal ”rates, followed in decreasing order by children, teens, and adults. It seems that heart rates are supposed to decrease inversely proportionate to the increase in age; the lower the heart rate, the older the age. Seems to make sense if you’ve ever seen a tired parent herd their running children through the supermarket. But, then, what of the really low heart rates of “athletes?”

Rainy from the day before, the skies where not especially pretty to look at today. One thing the rain always does is fill the paddy fields up again. With no wind and just the right amount of light, you can catch a piece of heavenly bodies reflected in within their greed dotted grids as you cycle.

A nicely proportioned lake to cycle around. I love the idea of living by a lake, especially a sized lake that is small enough to see across to the other side. 

A cool figure 8 field appeared in the grass as I prepared to cross a bridge. Looks like an amazing place to run, forever.

Today, for the first time in longer than I can remember, I met a man who dared to WALK across Japan. He was also making his way north up and into Hokkaido.

We met along a pedestrian walkway, a good way to meet people rather than along the side of the street’s shoulder where I prefer to be. You couldn't say that I stopped him, or that he stopped me, we came to the realization of each other’s presence at the same time to say “good morning.” He looked like he had been through a lot, albeit in very high spirits.

He told me a quick story of his journey; telling me that the deciding factor for this journey was not any revelry for the nature of his country, though Japan’s nature is certainly something to revere. His journey was not sponsored, nor had he ever endured such a long journey by foot. Before his departure actually, he didn't even consider himself an athlete, and smoked a pack of cigarettes a day. What could bring this man to the monumental decision then to commit to a lonely and poor life of traveling across the months into unknown territories? I had an idea I could relate to, I thought.

Turns out, I didn't. His wife died. His wife of over 40 years had passed away. Something I, nor I fathom most people, could come to grips with. The man was not happy for passing, of course. Rather, he said he maintained his high spirits because he felt her beside him along the way, and that indeed they are taking this trip together. Though, it seemed he is doing all the work – he joked. I pulled out 1000\ for the wondering adventurer, and told him to continue doing his best.

As for me, this is not my best. Cooking with a single stove and medium pot takes a little ingenuity and just the right ingrediates. You cant certainly cook everything you want. And when hunger turns to impatience, a warm bowl of miso ramen and two pieces of BBQ chicken is perhaps the healthiest menu item but by far something that is wanted on this cold misty day.

Acquainting a more impressive traveler than I really made my day. Usually I am on the other end of the conversation, people I meet along the way telling me to do my best or how they wish they could journey along too. Today, I was reminded of the existence of giants.

Love,
-A

Japan Exodus - Day 43: No KM Window Shopping Update

There will be no cycling today on account of a rainy day. 

Rain doesn't really mean rest however. All the small tasks I add to my list (mostly Internet needed research), emails, messages, blog updates and the such, all these things happen on rainy days because if I am not going to be productive on my bike, I as sure as heck will be in other ways. I ventured over to a cafe by foot, donning my lama wool bucket beanie and purple messenger filled with my laptop and other papers needing my attention. 

I may be somewhere in the middle of adulthood, but the quickest way still to get me to do something is to tell me not to do it. Yesterday, I was kindly reminded not to eat so many sweets along the way. A completely unfounded warning as the only dessert dabbled is the occasional ice cream on hot days. So, in my logic, if I am going to get nagged about something, I might as well do the thing I was warned about, right? That way, at least, the complaint has meaning.  

OK, this is the coolest thing I did today. After tooling around with Google maps for a good hour, becoming frustrated with the limited amount of route changes I could make, and doing a little external research, I found BikeMaps.net  This site let me make a custom route all across Japan, for as long as I wanted and with as many twists and turns as I actually made on my bike. Lovely. 

The very first leg of this tour from my house in Tosa city, Kouchi to see my buddy Kyle, and our way through the rigorous snow covered mountain tops of Shikoku, around the northern edge, and back down along one of my favorite routes (still) in Japan, the Western stretch of Ehime Prefecture. From the square point marker, it was good bye to Kyle and Shikoku, and off to the island of Kyushu.

Shikoku cycling: 714 kilometers

Total: 714 kilometers

Kyushu is a great island. All the times that I have taken the ferry there, I always head North first, where the famous onsen beaches of Beppu await. This last time through the nature filled island, I moved south for the first time and really enjoy my routes. First time to Miyazaki Prefecture to boot, which is always nice. 

I counted this cycling through the island all as one line, though you should notice that at the bottom (around km marker 300) did I leave Kyushu and shoot down to Okinawa before returning and cycling the second half of the way North, through earthquakes, landslides, and a wicked storm.

Kyushu cycling: 758 kilometers

Total: 1472 kilometers 

Okinawa island is one of the more forgettable experiences, aside from the last two days that I was finally able to get away from roads and found some peace tucked away between two palm trees. The all you can eat pizza restaurant was pretty awesome too.  

Okinawa cycling: 205 kilometers

Total: 1677 kilometers

Honshu cycling (as of May 9th): 1452 kilometers

Total: 3129

Oh Honshu, you are the big boy of the Japanese block. You can find everything here: ancient cities, modern cities, ocean, beaches, mountains, people, solitude, music, counter culture, sun sets, and spaghetti flavored ice cream popsicles.  

What is significant about breaking the 3000 km marker is that the fastest route through Japan, that is a straight shot from Kagoshima at the bottom of Kyushu to Hokodate at the Southern point of Hokkaido, is 3,000km in distance. That is, roughly, the length of Japan. Or, half way across America in a little more than a month. 

I don't flinch however that I am only about half way through the island of Honshu. The twists, turns, and switch backs are all done and accounted for. From this point on, the plan is a straight shot to Tokyo for some metropolis shenanigans and then a route up, up, and up until I reach Hokkaido where I have two or three things to check off my bucket list. We'll see what kind of time I make. 

After enough coffee and donuts, updates, and logging in and out of various sites, I needed a walk to clear my mind. That it was raining limited my options. I decided to aim for a second hand store and see what there was to see. Recycle Shops, as they are known here, are a new phenomenon and steadily becoming more popular. The idea of buying used has been around for a while, though the sort of things you could buy were mostly kitchen appliances, washing machines, mechanical devices and the sort. Only recently has the market expanded to include clothes, books, and well, just take a look at all these sweet toys! 

For those of you too young to recognize this right off the bat, its a vinyl record. It is what music used to be stored on before digital recordings, before Compact Disks, before tape players. 

Cowboy Bebop is one of the more "in the know" animes of the 90's. You had your Dragon Ball and your Gundam, but if your viewing roster was a little more expanse you also found Bebop, Yu Yu Hakusho, and the historically tittled Bobobo-bo Bo-bobo. Check it. 

And of all the animes that became popular enough to spawn a television series, fans always point to the Bebop soundtrack as being among the best there was and is. If you have never, check out the opening jazzy number here: Cowboy.

Now we are getting into some real geek fan memorabilia. If you have this in your collection, you are certified. Classic vinyl printings to Star Trek: The Next Generation soundtracks divided by seasons. How I wish I was still living in Japan, and had a record player. 

And, if I owned a TV, I wouldn't have thought longer than two seconds before purchasing this a Super Famicom (thats Family Computer as one word) and all the games I could find for it. As the first home entertainment system I ever had (the American version, titled Super NES), this one holds a special place in my heart, and in the hearts of several avid gamers around the world. Whats more, the price still holds relative. A Super Famicom is more expensive today than a PlayStation 2 - which was at least three generations down the home consul line. That is, you could buy a freaking blue-ray PlayStation 2 for cheaper than this 1990 top loading cartridge nostalgia.  

Before talking a short walk in the hard rain back to camp where I could only hope that no one messed with my bike during my eight hour absence, I make a stop at the grocery store to pick up some dinner. It was rainy and cold. And if I didn't have this little stove to keep up my spirits, I don't know that I would have been so satisfied with eating preserved convenience store food for dinner again. I enjoy cooking the way and style I cook.  

It might not be pretty, but its the best tasting food you will find tonight in the rain. Also, have you noticed that I am eating more veggies? So hard to get them in on the road if you are not cooking your own meals. What I really need now is stove cover, so that I can start steaming my veggies and rice. With a little more practice and testing the limits of what can be made using this single burner and pot, I should arrive in Hokkaido with an expert chef's instincts and inspiration. Cheers!


Today ended up being a good day for resting my legs after all. I even got most of my work down, sans this dang blog updates. One update takes me about an hour and half to do, with all the research and editing and photo uploading. Its a good break now when I have the two hours to spare, a little harder when, like riding through traffic lights, you have to keep start and stopping.


3000 km Love,
-A 

Japan Exodus - Day 42: A Long Mission, Complete

This will be a special post for a couple of reasons. 

First, total cycling kilometers for the day came to a total of 166. Thats just over one-hundred miles on a fully loaded bike, or what is known as a century. There are double, and triple, century days but those are typically done with lighter with planned routes. Today is not the first day to go all this way in one ride, but centuries also don't happen every day. So when they do, its important to point it out and pat myself on the back. 

Also, for those of you keeping count, this post, the one you are reading right at this moment, is tallied as my over all 200th post! That is quite an accomplishment, yes? I did not think I would have logged on and spent so many hours chronicling all these adventures for us, yet here we are. In an off balance kind of way, I am happy that this blog will not end here. 200 is too round a number to land on believably for a journey which prides itself on keeping plans loose. In the end, we'll be around two hundred and twenty posts or so. Let the countdown begin.

A good feeling filled my body as I sped through the hills in the morning. All the climbing I had put in the night before to my campsite payed off in quick descents down into the following city. And that is certainly all there seems to be from this point out, city. City from Aichi prefecture where the large region of Nagoya holds many people, restaurants, industry, many ports, trains, and stoplights. 

Still, as I look back at my love/hate relationship with the Wakayama hills, the feeling is always grand when crossing into a new prefecture. Its a two point feeling, knowing that you have completed one defining area, and opening a new section. Much like that unique feeling of reaching that half blank page, the feeling of ending and beginning a chapter. And just like a book, sometimes it is good to stop there and take a brake or save some for later, and other times you cant help put keep on reading, unable to fight the suspense of the cliffhanger. 

The dividing line between prefectures cut across the river as well, making two of the one. Seems a little petty, to divide the territory over water like this, no? 

Maybe only two minutes after crossing over into the new prefecture was I hit with restaurants offering the famous dish of the land. Aichi is known, very well I should say now, for chicken friend pork cutlets under a sweet miso sauce reduction. 

I knew about the dish, I even marked it down on my paper map as to remind myself not to leave this place without eating the famous meal at least once. What I was not expecting is to see so many eateries making good on the promise of a delicious meal so immediately after crossing over the dividing line. The change was reminiscent of crossing countries rather than prefecture boarders. 

Oh, and the food is absolutely the best. Among all the dishes I will emulate upon finding a kitchen back in the states, I am very excited to try this one. There is also the very real possibility that this will be one of the more difficult ones to try, because miso paste can be finicky to reduce. It needs a controlled burn and constant stirring. 

Tucked away between the very busy streets of Nagoya city, there is an unmarked street where cars are no longer allowed to drive down. Be sure, that this road was around before the first thought of cars invaded the dreams of man. 

This street is hard to find, but not hard to believe when you stroll down the pristine walkway that you've walked your way into the past. Here, where a style of slow, pre-industrial revolution life is experienced, inside wooden homes you will find the very traditional gift shops and restaurants of Japan. Forget Kyoto. If you want a taste of "real" Japan, you go down one of these forgotten streets. But, there is something odd. Within all the expected pieces of traditional Japanese styles, there is here something I have never seen before. Traditional food served by older women to be sure, dressed in un-traditional Japanese garments. 

Japanese style tie-dye, "shi-bo-ri." This small street in this unsuspecting town found in a very large city is apparently the only place in Japan where the fabrication art is still practiced. I should mention that it was my mother actually who turned me this direction. She wanted a gift, and what better selection of gifts to give my hippie San Francisco mother than colorful pieces of tie-dyed scarfs, wrapping clothes, and blouses. Cloth from every fraction of the color spectrum is found all around these shops, each piece stained with its own individuality. 

After some very entertaining window shopping, I landed on buying mother this very nice table cloth setting. The tie-dye of flowers, leaves and vines is printed over a subtle first embroidery of rose flowers. If you can look closely at the photo, you can notice the darker blue stitching. An expensive Mother's Day gift, but it goes to show you one of my tenants in life. Ask, and you shall receive. Most of us are not mind-readers, so if you want something, make sure to be heard.  

Besides a little shopping for mom, today was spend completely on the bike. Down from the mountains, as soon as I hit the coast and started making my way around, I was hit by annoying city obstructions. Industrial smog, railway crossings, tour buses, and those unnecessarily steep jumps off sidewalk streets that give a walloping thump to my back tire before crossing the street. That is perhaps why I am so proud of today's effort. Cycling through the city can be annoying, to pull a century through it is worth at least a high-five. 

Part of the reason for the accomplishment is for reasons like this. Stairs make the veins in my head swell. 

Because this is my first time through this part of Japan, I figured I would just wiggle around the coast and make my way out on the other side OK. But when I was cut off a the second time from a route I could not cycle, I pulled out the Google maps and thought I was saved. There is a big difference however, between where a car can go, and where bikes can go. By-passes, for example. The Maps say by-passes are OK for bikes, but bikes are most certainly not allowed. If you choose the "walking" suggested route, Maps doesn't account for stairs. I am lucky here, that there is a slide to push my bike up and down. I only say "lucky" not because it doesn't suck to push my bike up and down the slide, but because sometimes there is not a slide, and I must resort to lifting, shifting, and dropping my bike up and down each, and, every, single, stair, one, at, a, time. UGH!

Too much bike for the pedestrian lane, not enough for the car's. 

Quick brakes when I was cycling with my sister consisted of eating sushi from moving conveyor belts. I really miss those breaks =) Today, I have refined my snacks to banana chips and raisins. Light, seemi-healthy, and quick, these are a really good fuel to keep you going on long days.  

I am still working out the menu of dishes I can pull off with this single burner stove and small pot. Tonight is my fist attempt at curry and rice. Was not the best dinner, but lessons learned. Currently brainstorming on how to improve this meal for the next time. And there will most certainly be a next time. 

If you take a look back at the map four photos up, you can see how I made my way around the coast of this city. However, two years ago, my friend Go and I avoided this route. Instead, we took a ferry across the bay, and kept on going through Shizuoka, the next prefecture. Thus, tomorrow, the route will be a little more familiar, since I technically have gone down this way before, on the way to Fuji - where I expect to be for my grand 30th birthday. 

Birthday cake love,

-A

Japan Exodus - Day 41: Tunnels; Or, Wakayama: You Got Me Like All Sweatin' In My Granny Gears

Good morning! Today I am in a great mood because I get to cycle along my favorite route, the coast. They'll be some mountains too by the look of the squiggly lines on the map, so good times along the south east Wakayama coast for sure.

Cycling mountains in Japan comes with one word attached to the peak: tunnels.

On the one hand, tunnels are a good sign. A tunnel tells you that the ascension is over for this section. Go up, through the tunnel, and go back down. I call those things without tunnel summits, hills.

Mountains are another story. And with the name right there in the Prefecture title, Wakayama is in no short supply of yama (mountains). Today I start my way North along the East coast of the peninsula. I can say only that the route today is punctured with tunnels and lined with the sort of views I came to Japan to see.



Here is one. Not especially perfect place to camp, even a shore where fisher-people seem to come to try their luck in the sea. Yet the small uninhabitable islands, the colors of brown and green of earth contrasting the dark blues of the water make for a really nice visual from where I'm traveling. 

A little further down the way some koyfish kites hang along the long stretch of this small town's coast. They are the classic symbol of boyhood in Japan, used to mark the 5th of May - which, in Japan, is Boy's Day. 

Special note: Boy's day on May the 5th and Girl's day on March the 3rd are also respectably called Children's day and Doll day by some translations. Or, perhaps, there is a too a struggle for gender equality in Japan. 

This is the kind of tunnel that is not made for big trucks. I was captured my the look of this tunnel as soon as I saw it, doesn't the unattended nature of the scattered leaves, overgrown moss, and dark entrance make you want to believe that this tunnel will lead you into another dimension? 

Perhaps I have emerged into another dimension, a place where the homes are built but no people seem to live. I couldn't see why. An ocean view where the fog still lingers over the mountains at mid day in front of unoccupied houses and air so country you can smell grass and flowers everywhere you go. 

Do you remember the Japanese word for recommendation? Its osusume おすすめ . If you have the time or are simply around this part of the Japanese countryside, the 311 route through the Wakayama coastal hills is a route I cycling path I highly recommend. Not only are the sights beautiful, the hills are challenging (in a good way)! A nice pattern of ups and downs that really made me work for the summit, left me satisfied upon reaching the top crest, and never left me without a scene to view. That, and considering that today is Saturday, only one car was spotted along the entire way. Although, you don't need my recommendation for the 311. If you are going this way by bike, you have to take this route, as the highway bypass is for motorists only. 

Along the way of the 311, you'll find a beach to camp. Two or three tents lined the beach as I passed housing hikers, or bikers, or both. I would have stopped by too, if the day was any later. But I felt good, great, and took on the challenge of more mountainous tip tops. 

I should say here, too, that these mountains are nothing short of a good cycle. With each ascent and descent, and there were many, I had to pause and ask myself if climbing another was truly a good idea. Or, should I rest? With each ride down the mountain, the sweat on my back and neck cooled instantly and a slight shiver comes over me. With each climb, these Wakayama hills push my gears to their lowest, and soak my clothes once again in good ol' hard earned sweat and tears.  

 I couldn't stay here, that is for sure. The mountain sides, although extremely beautiful are incredibly scarce in available food. My whole day, I found one store that sold liqueur, and what tasted like two day old packaged bread.   

Another set of lake beaches, again unused. You can tell that the mountains I am climbing are high enough, since the afternoon sun has come to warm up the air and road, but the foggy clouds that hang around the top of the mountain peaks don't care. They're are comfortable up their, and don't pay much mind to the rays of the sun, asking the clouds to leave. 

Another climb and tunnel. At this point I counted seven completed ups and downs for the day. I was not done, I knew that, but a luck seven is always good luck and worth a quick picture. You'll notice still that these tunnels are small, tiny. Too tiny for big rigged 18-wheelers to get through. This way, the passage through the half cylindrical cement tubes was enjoyed exponentially more than any other time.  

Little bays from the sea surrounding the actual coast line formed within mountain inlets, making for small nook neighborhoods where homes lined the sides of hills for a view. Think forests over them until the hill tops. No stores, no post offices, no police or fire stations around. It didn't look as if this town saw any action, and it didn't look as though it cared. 

Small fishing farms on the inside of a random mountainous valley bay. 

I enjoy this photo oh so much because it captures the conditions of what I experienced all day. Main road cycling with no bumps, holes, or cracks. smooth curves over a pavement half wet from yesterday night's rain, hill trees providing shade and wind cover, no sense of time, and no cars. Just, go. 

The last tunnel I made it through. At this point, I counted eleven tunnels I had gone through for the day. this would be the last, and one of the tallest climbs of the day. After exiting this final long cut through the inside of the mountain, I found a city on the inside of the coast, where I immediately started looking for a grocery store to eat some long over breakfast and lunch. 

Mmmm, and I found it! Luck for me too that there were some picnic tables available just around the corner that I spotted on my way in to the grocery store where I cooked up this hardy breakfast. 

Side note: they say the worst time to go shopping is when you're hungry. True enough. That would be one disadvantage, if but a small one, to cooking by stove, as I have recently converted to. I almost alway now tend to buy more food that I can eat in one time. This may also be that food comes in sizes intended for more than just one meal. Eggs for example, I cant eat 12 eggs in one sitting and I wouldn't dare carry uneaten raw eggs with me along the day the way I could carry around some extra toast bread. 

Fortunately some store sells eggs in half-dozens, but this is still too many eggs when making omelets with veggies, meat, and cheese in addition. Not wanting to carry the food with me, and not wanting to waste it either, I force fed myself the extra second and third helping of breakfast. 

Since then, I am now carrying a simple Tupperware container with me, so that I don't feel sick from eating too much, and uneasy ridding.  

Third helpings of breakfast are always welcome! But, not so much after just putting down two other large helpings just before this one. Can't complain though, too much food is a first-world problem I would much rather have than not enough. Plus, I earned it. 

Dang you Wakayama! I thought I was done for the day!

Back along the coast, the island view was somewhat blocked off by white wind guards and railings. If you can make out the small mounds of islands in the sea here, perhaps you too will wonder why or how the tops of the islands appear so round. If you ask me, these small islands look just like the backgrounds to that classic Super Nintendo (Super Fami-com in Japan) game, Super Mario World.

That might be my first video game ever, and one that I have since come to realize in other people, a game that holds a special place in many hearts. 

Ok, this is not so much a "tunnel" as the other ones since there is technically one side exposed to the open air. But, I'm including it on this list because it did happen along this long stretch of tunnel entrances and exits which thematically composed my day, and it was wicked cool to go though because of its difference. 

Here is one of the tip-top views I reached on a decent ascent. Sweaty, breathing a little fast but not out of breath, I was eager to slop over the crest and take off down the other side of this mountain to where I knew a place to camp for the night. I am glad I didn't rush down at first. Looking back at the day's accomplishments is a good way to end the day. So many times I beat myself up for things I should not be doing, or things I know I wish I had done better. I rarely take the time out of the day to look back positively and reward myself. Thats what this view and photo does for me. 

Cycling once again from sun rise to sun set. Beats a desk job. 

Dinner that night came simple enough. Just like as if I had a home, got to eat what is left over first. In this case, some udon flavor packets. Udon for dinner it is! And hey, why not through some sweet potato, pumpkin, and shrimp tempura on top there? Yummmmm....


A good way to tell that I had a long day's worth of cycling is to notice that my day's clothes are done, unwearable the next day. As my good friend Chris would say, "Damn man, those clothes are ripe!" (with stank). I think a good pair of cycling shorts can last two or three days, a shirt can at least go three days without a wash. But when these Wakayama hills put you through the ringer and sweating like a fat man at his physical, clothes only last a day. Thats how I know I put in the work to deserve a cold beer at the very end of the day. You can get almost anything from vending machines in Japan!


Frothy Love,
-A

Japan Exodus - Day 40: Consumption Adjustments

Today is the last day of Golden Week for those who have obligation on Friday. Unfortunately my friend Go is included in this round up and he had to depart for Osaka once again. With him he takes a taste of the best ramen in Japan, a two days ride to an Australian beach, lots of good jokes, and a new English word I turned him on to: ideal. When he asked what word he could use to describe something which did not contain any unwanted elements, and I thought this word fitted nicely.

I take with me a route to the Southern tip of Wakayama prefecture, which reminds me a lot like the southern tip of Shikoku at Muroto. The wind pushes you down one way, and then hits you in the face as you make the big turn and start making a way North again.

Cycling alone makes for good distance because you are on your own schedule. You leave as soon as you are done using the toilet, eating your snack, or taking that photo. And so, I was able to make some good distance today after waking up between two palm trees that reminded me of home. 

Going around mountain turns in Japan is like starting a small new chapter in life. You really don't know if the summit awaits you, if there is a car overtaking another and crowding you lane, or if you will run into a 67 year old Japanese hippie man pushing his mamachari up a hill. (A mamachari is like a beach cruiser, usually one speed with 26in tires used for going to the grocery store or small trips around town.) Really, a bike tour on one speed? Just when I thought I was hard core going at it alone, I am humbled. 

I called out to him in Japanese, but it turns out that the man spoke English well enough. I switched to a slow gear as I approached and got through the small introductory questions before thinking: what am I doing? I got off, and pushed my bike along side his and we talked about War, vegetarianism, surfing, and future American politics as we climbed the mountain together. I didn't catch his name, but I will sooner remember his character than the names of those characterless. 

With the introduction of this stove and pot to my inventory, I'm a chef everyday! Noodles mostly so far, though I am building a menu on the back of a scratch piece of paper for meals to plan. Spaghetti would be difficult I think, not impossible. 

Then, rain came. I hate to think of my new hippie friend out there in this storm. He didn't seem to have much. But then again, hes survived a lot longer than me, and through nastier storms than this. 

Me? I am back on my noodle hype. Talk about a really necessity. Tonight I would have gone hungry were it not for the stove and some spare noodles and veggies I packed with me. Phew!

Another vanishing point. I now credit all my interest to these geometric vantages to Escher, who's book I flipped through time and time again as a boy. There were words and descriptions to his art that I today wish I had read in that book. But as a child (and as an adult too) his work forces your mind's eye to stop and understand what is being depicted. His works are not flashy nor colorful, rather they are resemble orchestrated puzzles and illusions once can only see from a certain angle. And that is what I love about vanishing points such as these. From a certain angle, and only that angle, does the entire frame of imagery fall succinctly into place and compliment contemplation as its reward. 

The afternoon was spend waiting out this rain. Should only last through the night, not that this is the best place to camp. I am at a rest area, though there is not much room to rest. I'll make due. If one person can, so can another. 

Love,

-A