randomwisdom.com

Saturday I had planned on taking the bike up north to a friend's BBQ in Iwate. Weather forecasts had predicted that it would rain a little bit on Saturday and a lot on Sunday-- just my luck, why does the weather have to be perfect all week and then get crappy on the weekends? But as it turned out, the sun was out and shining, and while the clouds chased me the whole day, I didn't get rained on.

Instead of taking the expressway, I opted for back mountain roads (of course). While this meant that I was stuck behind slow-moving four wheeled vehicles for most of the ride, it also meant that the scenery was prettier and the road was more technically challenging.

Here is a link to a map showing the route I took. This image is huge (around 800Kb), so if you're on dialup I wouldn't recommend looking at it. Make sure your browser/image program isn't scaling the map down (names of mountains and route numbers should be easily legible). Start at the bottom of the map if you want to follow along!

First step was just getting out of town. I topped off my tank and headed up north, on my way to Hanayama via route 398. I had made a list of which roads to take from a map in my backpack, but I didn't remember seeing the lake on the map. I came over the top of the hill after some twists, and there was this gorgeous lake on the right. So I stopped to take a picture.

Looking back down the road

I pulled back onto the roadway just behind a slow-moving car. More accurately, he was going the speed limit: 40km/h. Twenty-five miles per hour. Damn slow. Thankfully, after I crossed a bridge in town there was a long straight climb to the next segment of road, with no curves and good visibility. I passed a few struggling cages just before the sweepers started. Long, drawn-out curves, crossing back and forth over a river, smooth leaning and speed: a motorcyclist's dream. Of course, that didn't last long before some idiot pulled RIGHT out in front of me just before the crazy crazy switchbacks (just above the number 398 on the map). Blind corners and oncoming traffic for the next 20 kilometers or so, the driver who couldn't just choose a reasonable speed and stick with it... did I mention the morons parked in the road around the aforementioned blind corners, just so the passengers could get out and pick mushrooms? Do they just not see anything wrong with that? I pulled over-- in a turnoff (what a concept)-- and took a short break before my blood started to boil.

I checked my map, gave the impending rainclouds a stern look, and pulled into slot formation behind a red sports coupe, who was himself tailing a series of idiots. 398 just keeps on going over the mountains and into Akita proper, but my route was to lead me over a side road to hook up with 342. The idiots stayed on the main road. Mister Red was to have none of that, however, and turned off the side road for a bit of lively cornering. Now this was a much more realistic pace. I tailed at a safe distance for about half the side road, but between the glaciers melting into the road and the narrowing tight curves I decided to slow down, pull off, and give my nerves a rest.

The middle of the mountains, southeast Akita prefecture

Pulled back on, finished up the side road at a bit of a more leisurely pace, and turned left (that is to say, north) onto 342. Had I gone straight, I would have crossed over Japan's "continental divide" into Iwate prefecture. The road I took follows a river as it snakes down a valley almost 50 km into the nearest city. Downhill turns are always a bit harrowing, but visibility was much better than before. I quickly caught up to a large truck and wound up following him much of the way into the valley. Normally my squid instinct would have taken over and I would have gone much faster, but as I settled into the slower pace I started to look around and enjoy the scenery a lot more. I pulled into a parking lot in a small village to take pictures.

In the valley, southeast Akita prefecture

About this time the motorbike crowd started thickening up a bit. When I hit the T junction, I pondered a bit. My original plan had been to take the nasty bastard road going straight through the mountains to the north, but I really had to pee and I wanted to get something to drink. Plus, my friend Yassan had warned me that particular road might still be closed due to snow. So I took the easier road to the left, and stopped at the first conbini I saw.

Damn, the restroom is out of order? What the hell kind of convenience store is this? I bought a small coffee and walked around the back of the place. Hmm, nothing but rice fields back here. *zip* *whistle* We don't need no steenking restroom.

Back around to the front, drinking my coffee, and a vanload of elementary school kids pulls up. Hmm. I smile and wave, as is my job and my calling, and they all barrel out armed with all the English they know. "Hello! My name is etc. etc." Wow, I wish my kids were this eager to learn English! Maybe I looked like a superhero with my full black leathers and red-white-and-blue helmet. I looked at the parents (at least, I think they were parents) and just shrugged. Three minutes of this constant barrage and the little ones were packed back into the van. I polished off my beverage and hopped on the bike for the last stretch.

From here on it was pretty straightforward. The roads were wide and almost straight, with little traffic, so there was plenty of opportunity to go my own speed. Route 107 into the mountains was fantastic. Lots of open road, a few sweepers. But I was a bit apprehensive as I got into Yuda. Traffic was backed up a bit. It was moving enough that I didn't feel entitled to just go around like I normally would. As it turned out, there was a reason for all the fuss.

A friggin Omikoshi parade, that's the reason.

Naturally, the person hosting the party knew nothing about this big to-do.

And then that was it, I was there. Total time to get there: 4 hours, counting about half an hour of stops.

Had a barbecue. Cooked some meat. Watched some fireworks over the lake (so close that I actually kept a piece of cardboard tubing from one of the exploded fireworks as a souvenir). I rode back that night on the expressway, despite my original plans of spending the night. I opened up the throttle in 6th, tucked down on the tank to conserve fuel, and battled the gusting winds for about a hundred miles. Round trip: 300km. It doesn't sound that far, considering some of the lengths I've driven in the U.S. of A. Hell, you can go that far going up to Phoenix and back on the slab. But on a li'l mosquito bike on tortuous backroads (with 50kph speed limits) that's quite a long way. I even made it on one tank of gas-- the main tank actually ran out just as I stopped in the parking lot of my apartment.