Length of Japan Cycling Tour - Part 2 of 3
Organization of Blog Post & Posts to Follow
Our Length of Japan Cycling tour is divided into three parts:
Length of Japan Cycling Tour, Part 1 - The Beginning - Read the first portion of our journey here. Covers roughly Day 0 - Day 33 of 75.
Length of Japan Cycling Tour, Part 2 - The Middle - (You’re reading it!). Covers roughly Day 34 - Day 45 of 75.
Length of Japan Cycling Tour, Part 3 - The End - To be published on Friday, December 3rd, 2021. Covers roughly Day 46 to Day 75 of 75.
This Part 2 blog post covers from Nagoya City to Hyogo Prefecture… Part 3 will cover the remainder.
Days 34-41
On Saturday, November 21, after 3 days of rest/weather days in the town of Echizen, Fukui we packed up to set off again riding towards Lake Biwa. During those three days we had further lightened our load by shipping a few additional items home. Much to my dismay as I got dressed to ride for the day I discovered this somehow included the insoles of the bike shoes I was wearing. I wear carbon road bike shoes touring and they are rock hard on the bottom without any insoles. On future trips, I will recognize doing something like this could mean I need more rest or recovery starting out…
Justin and I started the day very leisurely at the local Starbucks over coffees and breakfast. We made a few stops at stores as they opened in any attempt to get some type of replacement insoles. No luck.
All of the preparation, gear, training, route planning could not save me from what would happen next. 31.5 miles into what should have been a 50.3 mile ride, I hit a huge piece of loose pavement, throwing me partially over my handle bars. Not totally catastrophic except for the fact that the way my arms landed back on the bars, they were rotated 90 degrees to the right and catapulted me hip-first into the pavement… the road bike equivalent of catching an edge on a snowboard. I lay there frantically trying to unclip my left foot and move off the side of the road and strangely was unable to rotate my foot enough to unclip. We were on a necessary short stretch of highway joining two less busy roads and although the shoulder was huge, semi trucks were roaring by less than 10 feet from me as I lay trapped under my loaded bike. Justin turned around, raced to unclip my foot. As I leapt to my feet somehow, I’ll never forget what it felt like when I bore weight on my left foot – unbearable pain and a feeling I can only describe as a bag full of broken dishes clattering around where my hip should be. Not only could I not bear weight, I couldn’t even hop on my other foot as that jarred everything too much. Justin held me up as I slowly hobbled to the other side of the guard rail and sat down. An older couple approached us. It wasn’t obvious at first, but it became clear very quickly I needed an ambulance. My Japanese friend Chika shared with the kind couple our situation through a Facebook messenger phone call who agreed to call an ambulance and describe the location. I was petrified because I KNEW I needed surgery. Not of the surgery itself but what kind of care would be available in a more remote place and complications down the road due to a botched surgery. As we waited for the ambulance, the incredibly sweet couple, who we’d later come to know as the Kawabatas stayed with us. Mr. Kawabata repeated to me kindly and enthusiastically words that echo in my memories today, “Everything will be OOOoooooKKKKKKayyyyyy.” As I looked forlornly down with tears in my eyes recognizing the end to our epic adventure, I felt something soft on my legs and looked over to see Mrs. Kawabata had thrown a little fleece blanket over my legs with the most caring and pained look on her face —the most touching gesture at such a desperate time. Justin and Chika coordinated with Mr. Kawabata who was more than happy to keep our bikes and trailer while we went in the ambulance to the nearby orthopedic hospital. We had been acquainted only minutes by the time we left all of our most beloved bike gear in the care of the Kawabatas but their incredibly warm and caring nature left me with absolutely no worries or doubts about its safety, or even the burden of storing it for a few days. In fact I felt that they were more than happy to help us and in a time like this I was so comforted by this goodwill and fortune.
I remember hearing the sirens in the distance growing louder - a sound we have heard often in Japan. Only this time the ambulance was coming for me. Two younger kind EMTs in white plastic helmets questioned me before bringing a stretcher next to me so I could slowly stand on my good leg and lower myself down. They lifted me into the ambulance and one of them questioned me as we rode to the hospital and was unloaded into the empty emergency room. After evaluation and while waiting for the xray technician on call to arrive at the hospital, Justin and I chatted casually with the ER doc. Small world, he was from Nagoya, spoke pretty dang good English, and his dad had a clinic in the same tiny neighborhood ward we lived in in Nagoya. Literally a 5 min walk from our house. A few xrays later, the ER doc said he didn’t believe I’d need surgery but that the specialist would need to verify on Tuesday (it was a long holiday weekend in Japan). I’d have to stay in the hospital until that time (it was Saturday afternoon). It still hadn’t hit me at that point how necessary that would be and I felt disappointed to be told this—even if it was broken, why couldn’t i return to heal at home? The ER doc himself called the local hotel and booked a room for Justin as it was too late to reach Nagoya by train. The hospital staff turned somewhat of an unheard-of-for-Japanese-people blind eye towards Justin staying by my side well beyond visiting hours and then leaving and returning back with some of my stuff.
It was night time at this point and we were both starving and the staff said the hospital had already done dinner and no food was available. I begged Justin to make the extra effort with the cab to bring McDonald’s back and eat with me. It was the best McDonald’s I’ve ever had – it had been 7 or 8 hours since we’d eaten and an emotionally exhausting day. The level of kindness by the staff helped me to realize I was in good hands. It was still exquisitely sad and lonely to say goodbye to Justin who would return to our house and Nagoya without me. Because of COVID regulations he was not allowed to visit me at all and so there was no point to staying. I had my computer and phone and so I had some level of distraction as I could watch shows online to pass the three days. The loneliness reached its peak however when I asked the younger nurse on duty for the WiFi password. She placed her hands on her knees and leaned forward as you would when speaking to a preschooler, her face uncomfortably close to mine, made the most ridiculously sad face (I recognized it was sympathy to the max in Japan, but could be seen as straight up mocking by American cultural standards if you didn’t have context) and emphasized every syllable with loud and intense pity “OshiRAREnaiiiiii yo neeee” (I cannot tell you). Here we go. Three days in a remote Japanese hospital with almost no cell reception and no WiFi.
At 6 am the next morning I jolted awake to a nurse flinging the curtains open, “Ohaiyou gozaimasu!” (good morning!). The last time someone else had determined my daily schedule like this was childhood. It felt ODD. They took my temp and brought some green tea. Justin and I were texting back and forth and, as it turns out, I had managed to crash in a convenient place. From his hotel, he took a local express train 35 minutes to Maibara and transferred to the Shinkansen for a 25 minute ride to Nagoya. I was able to request hot water and make coffee with the instant coffee I had in my luggage. However, in the 30-40 minutes it took me to move my leg and body off the side of the bed and into the wheel chair and the 5 feet to the bathroom to open the heavy door and position myself to squat on one leg to use the restroom and return to bed, it was cold. Another wave of sadness hit. I had gone from the freest of birds adventuring through the Japanese countryside with my husband to barely able to use the restroom on my own and unable to even reheat my own coffee. Tears streamed down my face as I watched the video Justin sent me from his walk up our street to our beloved little house without me. With the insanely awesome Japanese train system, he arrived home just prior to 8 am, about the same time I had been brought my first tray of Japanese hospital food. We had talked already about how good it would feel to return home at the end of our ride and be in our house again. It had already been 34 days since leaving home and I was so, so very sad I didn’t get to enjoy this with him.
This first day was the absolutely loneliest and roughest. Sleeping was awful as I could only sleep on my back which got really stiff and sore. I had to drag my leg by grabbing my hospital pants to move my left leg off the bed to use the restroom. Shooting pain left me gasping for air and sweaty no matter how slow and careful I was. I’d squat to sit carefully in a wheel chair and pick my leg up with my pajamas onto the foot rest and wheel myself to the bathroom and back. I leaned on Justin for consolation and he cheered me up by sending photos of all of the things he was doing to get ready for my return - getting out our winter blankets, picking up the many boxes we had shipped to our supportive friends of our gear and Japanese whiskies we had amassed along the way. We caught up on our trip journal over the phone after dinner.
Fast forward a bit: I realized my hospital room had a view of the mountains and the ocean. The hotel food was delightful. The nurses were kind and warm. I could feel my pain subsiding each day significant amounts and was amazed at how quickly the body can heal. At one point I was brazen enough to head out my room and down the hall to the elevator. Somehow being wheeled in I had remembered there was a soda machine with Coke Zero in it on the first floor. I wheeled myself in to an elevator and pushed the button to the first floor. Miraculously the first thing I saw when the doors opened was that soda machine (I am directionally challenged like no one else). It stood in an oddly completely dark hotel lobby hallway – I have never known a hospital to be closed on the weekend, but this was a SMALL town. I put my money in and got my Coke Zero and high tailed it back to the 4th floor, sure I would be scolded if caught. I was felt so much joy over this small reclamation of freedom.
Short video of one of the nicest views and coziest hospital rooms I never expected to have.
By the third day, I requested a shower and was granted this out of the blue several hours later. The second nicest shower of my life, after the one in Nepal after trekking for 3 weeks with no shower. The specialist came into my room on Sunday night unexpectedly and visited with me. He said we’d do more xrays on Tuesday and make sure I don’t need surgery. I would have some lessons on crutches and if I did well I’d be sent home. If I didn’t, I would need to stay in the hospital longer. My crutches lesson came around and Hatamori-san, a delightfully animated (in a way that only Japanese people can be… IYKYK…) physical therapist, struggled to find any crutches tall enough for me. In the physical therapy room I was surrounded by what seemed like 50 lb, 5’1” Japanese older people all looking exceedingly happy with their PTs. If you think Japanese people are small, Japanese older people are even tinier. The crutches they had were for these people. Miraculously the oldest pair of crutches adjusted out to just long enough for me to use them. Hatamori-san put me through my paces, demonstrating for me and then handing me the crutches to try. Stairs on crutches were awkward but I was hell bent on mastering them. He made motions of being extremely impressed. I had passed the test and back up to the 4th floor I went.
The nurses came to make arrangements for my appointment with Kamitani-sensei, the specialist. Another level of cultural differences: they required Justin to be present for my appointment. I asked if he could arrive by 11 am – my checkout time – as that would be easier for him driving from Nagoya. Absolutely not – he must arrive by 8 am for my appointment with the specialist. I believed it was because I am a woman but my Japanese friend said she believed it was because they don’t want to burden the invalid with too much information.
A short and much relieving appointment later I was confirmed no surgery was necessary and officially released with no more questions about the stairs in our home (little did they know they are ‘the stairs of death’ – the steepest, windy staircase I’ve ever encountered… it took me months to master on two good legs without stubbing my toes and I’d never dream of doing it without gripping the railing). I happily assumed the role of the invalid while Justin and the doctor spoke about my condition.
After 11 am, we gathered my belongings and headed back down to the lobby to pay and then out to the car. In Japan, an ambulance ride is free. ER care and 3 full days in a private room with meals is about $650. A steal. After a full 3 days of complete and unexpected loss of freedom, I was crutching out to the delightfully familiar sight of our white X1. We descended the windy road down the hill to the town to get some McDonald’s again as a treat before driving the 2.5 hours to Nagoya.
Before hopping on the expressway, though, we stopped to pick up our bicycles Kawabatas. They greeted us warmly and immediately invited us inside their home. A rare event in Japan. I removed my shoes and wore the slippers they set out for us – feeling bad about my crutches on the floor inside their home. They ushered us to sit and made us coffee and set out chocolates for us. The language barrier was significant, however we were so touched and inspired by their kind gestures and generosity and how they invited us, nearly total strangers, barely able to communicate, into their home. They showed us their living room window that looked out onto the accident site. They shared their daughter was an English teacher in Osaka. They told us about their various travels outside of Japan and showed the souvenirs they had from these travels. They showed us their big and beautiful garden and delightfully round, friendly and dusty cat – Kuro-chan (equivalent to “Blacky” in English). I laughed as Mr. Kawabata vigorously patted his head and sides and a small puff of dust came off, Kuro-chan completely unphased with the surprising force of Kawabata-san’s pats. We took some photos together and loaded the bikes and trailer into the X1 and were off heading back to Nagoya…
It was a delight when we received a surprise letter a couple months later in the mail in English from their daughter relaying their request that we restart the ride from their house. We were thinking exactly the same thing.
Fast forward to December 20th we picked up our new titanium bikes from Tokyo. We purchased them from an independent frame manufacturer, Vlad Balahovskis of Equilibrium Cycle Works has spent years studying titanium with a Japanese craftsman and now has his own company. He is essentially a one-man show and we were happy to agree to be a part of a mini photo shoot for his marketing - see some of the photos below. It was amazing to see up close the passion and heart Vlad puts into his work. January 18th I had been given the all clear to resume any physical activities I wanted. March 19th we squeezed in our second bike fitting with Vincent Flanagan of PedalForth Fitting in Kyoto. By Friday, April 2nd, 2021, the fall leaves have well been replaced with cherry blossoms and we shot some last photos of our bikes in front of our house in Nagoya before riding off towards Echizen, Fukui to restart the day we never managed to finish. Two days of riding and we arrived back in Echizen. We stayed at the same hotel as last time and were able to get into the sushi restaurant which had been fully booked in November.
Justin warms up for his fitting with Vincent Flanagan while Vincent reviews my fit on his computer.
Monday, April 5th, we again had coffee at the beautiful Starbucks in Echizen before setting out. We rode the 30 miles, retracing our steps – seeing all the familiar sites I remember seeing the day I crashed. It was delightful to reunite with the Kawabatas again. They invited us in for coffee and mizuyoukan – a special summer treat in Japan. They were overjoyed to see us again and we were overjoyed to see them. They had the thank you card from my Dad and our Christmas card on display. Justin taught them how to translate our blog into Japanese with Google Chrome. We took some more photos and visited with Kuro-chan who repeatedly threw himself in front of Justin’s front wheel as if trying to keep us from leaving. Our hearts were full as we rolled away, turning back to wave to Mr. and Mrs. Kawabata until they were no longer in our sight.
Day 41 - Arriving to the Kawabatas' Home and Passing the Site of the Crash - I crashed just past the fork in the road to the right of the guard rail (where all the cars go in the video). The Kawabatas live just on the left side of the fork in the road. Our ride officially OFFICIALLY restarted from this point where we stop to visit them, then later continue down the left side of the fork to complete our LOJ (Length of Japan) ride.
Day 41 - Kuro-Chan - The Kawabatas' cat, Kuro-chan, tried to keep us from leaving by throwing himself in front of our feet and then in front of Justin's front bike wheel, putting his paws in the spokes even! He is a character.
Day 38
We restarted the trip on our new bikes from in front of our house. Unlike most rides, we would ride to the southern tip of Kyushu before returning. The cherry blossoms were in full swing and we’d ride through what felt like pink snow globes. Pink cherry blossom petals filled the river like confetti. The sun was just becoming warm and everyone was outside soaking up the fresh spring air and beauty.
Day 38 - Cherry Blossoms / Hanami Season - As we left from Nagoya on our first day back riding, we rode through a snow globe of cherry blossoms along the Gojō River just near Kiyosu Castle and Park..
Day 39
Restarting our trip meant judging the road closures through the mountains back towards Echizen. The guides said the roads were due to open any time but we couldn’t tell exactly when that would be. The weather had been very warm for us for quite awhile so we held our breath as we road through the road closure of 365 to reach Echizen. Snow and branches littered the road. Around a bend and down the hill we’d discover why the road was still closed. Snow had yet to melt in places and it nearly covered the width of the road. Plenty of space for a bike tire, but not for any car!
Day 41
We made reservations right away both for Urushiya, a gorgeous soba restaurant for lunch, and also for Sushi Toyo for dinner in Echizen, Fukui. Sushi Toyo had been fully booked the nights we’d stayed there prior to my crash but this time they had space. We ducked in through the noren curtains on a drizzly dark evening totally content to burden them with our bad Japanese only to be met by the most caricature-like woman and her gentle and kind husband. It felt like every sake and fish she brought out was a performance. She had a booming stage voice and a comically expressive face which she used as she swooped in inches from our face as she waited on us. Sometimes I wonder if they are being polite outwardly and inwardly are waiting for the two westerners to leave. We never felt more special as when we we settled our check and were about to head back out into the drizzle and the wife rushed to grab her car keys and drive us back to our hotel only to have her husband THE SUSHI CHEF grab the keys from her and insist on driving us himself. We were speechless. Small town Japan is splendid.
Day 42 - Day 45
Sowaka
Justin found an incredible hotel in the old neighborhood of Gion in Kyoto. It has only been open for a few years. The grounds and building were originally a restaurant which was over 100 years old before it was converted into a hotel. It is ryokan style in that you eat breakfast and dinner at the hotel and wear slippers around the hotel and your room, however there is no common onsen/bath (although our room had a bath tub). We sprung for this place partly to celebrate our time in Japan and partly to celebrate our fifth wedding anniversary. It was, by far, the coolest place we have stayed in our whole time in Japan. Japan is full of endless amazing lodging to spend money on. Always worth it. Very rarely have we been disappointed with any lodging in Japan and I’d consider ourselves on the pickier side.
A 2:30 min video tour of our room at Sowaka in Gion Kyoto (Room #104 the Maisonette with Tea Ceremony Room. Part celebrating 5 years in Japan with a bang, part early celebration of our 5th wedding anniversary… Enjoy!
Kyoto Wagashi
Back in Nagoya we had made a habit of picking up desserts called ‘daifuku.’ This is mochi rice cake surrounding red bean paste called ‘anko.’ Our favorite is with ‘koshi-an’ or smooth red bean paste (vs. chunky red bean paste filling). Kyoto is famous for various types of desserts made with mochi and red bean paste. It is a realm that you won’t be able to even know it exists unless you can physically eat it yourself as there is no frame of reference for this with anything that exists in the Western world. All of these are made fresh to be eaten the very same day with very few exceptions, and so experiencing them outside of Japan is next to impossible. Some of the desserts are made to look like artwork and some have the most bland appearance but mind-blowing flavor and texture (which are so good they can be appreciated even as a foreigner eating it for the first time).
(Click on the photos below to open the photo window and be able to read the full captions.)
Day 45 - Leaving Kyoto - Most Epic Road Closure of the Whole Trip
It’s only fitting that the very day we rode away from the most cush lodging we’ve ever had in our entire lives that we encounter the exact opposite. Road closures are par for the course while cycle touring in Japan. They are mostly due to mud or landslides due to heavy rain or earthquakes, seasonal closures in the mountains due to snow/ice, and very infrequently they are due to road work. Rerouting on bikes is MUCH more of a pain than in a car as the above road closures are usually in the mountains and the detours add significant mileage and elevation. Because of this, we usually try to ride through them. We are not rule breakers at heart and this pains us, especially in Japan, however most often, roads that are not passable by car are passable by bike.
58 second video: Day 45 - Log Wall Road Closure - From Kyoto, heading towards Himeji we encountered the most epicly built road closure barrier to date. The level of effort required to erect such an impressive barrier, no doubt, rivals that of the actual road work which took place if not surpassed it. Was it too much for a couple of sneaky gaijin?
