This weekend, I did a bit of touring with Takahashi and his buddies on the motorcycle. We left at 5:30am on a misty morning, with raindrops like little mosquitoes hovering in the air, unwilling to settle on the ground. I cursed the weather as I donned a rainsuit that almost wasn’t necessary. Originally, I had thought this was an obscenely early departure, but due to the complete lack of traffic it was actually wonderful timing.
Originally, the trip was supposed to take us down to Aizu in Fukushima prefecture, where I would follow up with a meeting with Ian, but someone along the way decided that the weather would be better up north in Akita, so we started going north from Naruko into the mountains along route 108. Of course, by the time I figured this out, we were deep into the ravines and out of phone range, so I couldn’t call Ian to let him know what was going on.
Blind curves and twists of every radius and description were par for this course, and the ground was a bit damp. I let the speedy barons drag pegs and scrub off their brake pads, but I just didn’t feel all that great flying into a corner without knowing how tight it was, or what lay on the other side. So I, along with a couple people from the group, decided to hang back and take things at a safer, more leisurely pace. And it was probably best that way, as I still encountered two oncoming cars who didn’t seem to grasp the concept of a centerline — specifically, if you’re in Japan, you’re supposed to stay on the LEFT side of it, not straddle it.
I had started with half a tank of gas, which I figured would be enough to get us to a gas station in whatever town we were eventually going to. So here I was, roaring along in top gear at nine thousand RPM, 120kph on a straight segment through some tunnels, when my ride starts to sputter out. No problem, says I, we have nearly a quarter tank on reserve. Unfortunately, I had forgotten about the reality of Japanese gas stations, namely that all gas stations in Japan are full service. This means that gas stations actually close at night, and don’t open until 8am in some places. The looming prospect of being stuck in the middle of nowhere without gas for awhile gave me a bit of a shock, but during our next break the crew found a gas station that had just opened, and I refueled.
A side road and a detour eventually brought us to… a ranch? Yes, a ranch, selling homemade ice cream. Sheep and goats and a couple Jersey cows. Giant wind turbines on the top of a mountain which otherwise looked like it was plucked right out of The Sound of Music. An enormous volcanic mountain dominated the background. I stooped down to pet their rabbit (named Pyon) while enjoying my ice cream, and by the time I finished some fog had rolled in. Coming down from the mountain was a bit hairy, but the fog was mostly cleared up by the time we hit the next big set of switchbacks. That’s when I got into my groove and started pulling away.
Finally reached the top, where there was supposed to be a nice view of the ocean. Unfortunately, all the clouds covered everything up, so we couldn’t really see anything. I was a bit tired from the strenuous run up, so I grabbed some water and sat down for a break.
The trip back down into civilization was slow and uneventful. The fog rolled back in just as we started down the other half of switchbacks; I slowed way down and eventually wound up following an even slower car I couldn’t pass for lack of visibility. We pulled off for lunch (by which time it cleared up again) and I finally got a phone signal to call Ian. By that point, it was about 11am, and it would take me 2 and a half hours to even get into Fukushima city by expressway (not including time I’d have to stop for gas and breaks). So I just rode back home with the crew.
