Hokkaido Run: Days 1-15
In one sense, I planned this trip somewhat frantically a week before it happened. In another sense, I’ve been planning it for the past 15 years. When I joined the cycling club in the fall of 2005 as an exchange student at ICU, I was able to participate in three short trips around Kanto. Those were great fun and kindled my interest in the sport, but I felt a bit envious of the other members whenever they talked about the big trip to Hokkaido each summer. It was the main annual event for the club, and for some members the only one they attended. Since my exchange program began and ended in summer I didn’t get the opportunity to join, but I never stopped thinking about taking my own extended trip to and around Hokkaido one day. Unfortunately, life tended to get in the way making it difficult to dedicate the two solid weeks necessary to make the trip feasible and worthwhile. As a grad student and in my early career, I had time but no funds. More recently I have funds but no time. Summers tend to fill up with trips back to America or chaperoning students around the world. Such travel wasn’t possible this summer vacation, presenting a unique opportunity for the Hokkaido cycling tour I’d been thinking about for so long. In actuality though, I planned this trip somewhat frantically a week before it happened.
This trip took eleven full days of cycling. I considered writing a more traditional, linear entry about each day at a time, but felt that might get a bit tedious both for you and for me. Instead I’ll focus on a few different topics and anecdotes, decorated with photographs, similar to how I recorded the hiking days in Kamikochi.
1: coronaThe main reason I waited until the last minute to plan the details of the trip is because I spent a long time internally debating the ethics of traveling to Hokkaido as a Tokyo resident. Though Japan’s corona numbers have been low compared to much of the world, they’ve been rising steadily since the state of emergency was lifted in June, and the government’s guidelines about domestic travel are ambiguous. Ultimately, I resolved to go ahead with the trip while taking certain precautions. I paid for an expensive test the day before the trip to confirm I was uninfected, used proper mask etiquette when not pedaling, and as much as possible stayed in the hotel for meals rather than going out. This is such a complicated issue which everyone reacts to differently. I’m not sure what I did was truly enough, but I felt comfortable with my level of precaution and never experienced direct resentment from locals, even when I told them where I’m from.
2: bikes on planes
This is so much easier than I thought it would be! I just wrapped Yoshiko up as I would for a train, and ANA did a great job of getting her there in one piece. I’m not sure I would trust all airlines with her, but this experience gives me hope for the possibility of Kyushu or Okinawa trips one day.
3: orderMy main goal for this trip was to cycle the shit out of Hokkaido. There will be other opportunities for typical sightseeing in the future, but I don’t anticipate ever bringing my bike again. As such, I made a rather ambitious plan to cycle in a rough “Z” shape from Wakkanai to Kushiro to Asahikawa to Hakodate, stopping in the major cities along the way. Conceptually it made sense to cycle from Hakodate up and up to Japan’s northernmost point, but having passed through Wakkanai on a ski trip a couple winters earlier, I knew that it would be a bit anticlimactic to end there, so I opted to start there instead and make my way down to Hakodate. (At the time, I thought I might be able to see my host family there as well, but unfortunately no one was home. More on that later.)
4: no evidenceI’m slightly embarrassed but not remotely regretful about how frequently I stopped to take pictures of Hokkaido farmlands. I imagined the drivers passing by wondering what I could possibly find so appealing. There might be some biological reasons for humans’ admiration of such landscapes, but I think I experience something deeper and more personal. It’s hard to put into words, but I think it boils down to comfort from a sense of production, creation and sustainability - very much the opposite of manmade islands stuffed with skyscraper apartment buildings in Tokyo. Knowing that this land will nourish so many provided a much needed sense of relief during a time so full of anxiety. I’ve written something similar to this about cycling through the rice fields in Miyagi. If the circumstances of my life were different, I think I could have been a pretty happy farmer. I have no evidence for this.
5: bug collisionYou know how when driving fast down a road, sometimes a bug will splatter on the car windshield? This happened, simultaneously less and more dramatically on my cheek.
6: releasing potentialIn Book 4 of the Legend of Korra, Korra removes mercury poison from within her that had been hindering her physically and mentally. In A Wizard of Earthsea, Ged recognizes the shadow that has been tormenting him is part of himself and becomes whole by finally accepting it. In Captain Marvel, Carol Danvers discovers a Kree implant that had been suppressing her powers and destroys it. In each of these cases, an already strong character comes to understand an impediment, discards or embraces it using tools they already possess, and releases her full potential to become even stronger. I had an experience like this with my new bike, Yoshiko.
For the first three days of the trip, there was trouble with the front brake. The wheel seemed to be scraping it slightly, yet the brake itself didn’t work effectively when pushed. This was my first experience using disk brakes, and I couldn’t fix the problem no matter how many times I tried to realign the wheel. Luckily the effects were small enough that I managed to ignore the problem and ride with it for the first three days and 315km. Day 4 was the toughest day of the trip however, so the evening before in Kitami I decided to have the bike examined at a cycle shop. Nomura-san was very friendly, and immediately recognized a wire that must have been slightly displaced when I packed up the bike. It was a split second fix that suddenly released Yoshiko’s potential and made her so much stronger. I don’t mean to suggest that the first three days of cycling were wrong, but the feeling from then on was just so unambiguously right. We started moving together instinctually and I gained more confidence in riding my first road bike. I no longer felt fear going down steep hills or over bumpy terrain. Everything suddenly became much more fun. Thank you Nomura-san!
7: good gear bad gearEvery trip, I acquire or upgrade some gear. In the past I’ve compared this to Mega Man and Zelda. Since this was Yoshiko’s first trip, I bought more new gear than usual to go with her. I’ll rank them below from worst to best.
5. bike stand
Yoshiko is my first bike without a kickstand, and I worried that it would be difficult to leave her standing when I walked away. In reality there was almost always something to lean her against. Sometimes I just needed to get creative. I didn’t use this stand once and it became 1.8kg of dead weight. Furthermore, I had to secure my pannier bags differently because of its presence and broke their straps in the process. I could still ride with them but they weren’t as stable. Big mistake! 2/10
4. selfie stick
I’m not much of a selfie taker, but wanted to take a couple videos through Hokkaido farmlands. This got the job done! 6/10
3. electric air pump
I needed to replace the old pump I had, and was intrigued by this electric option. Despite its power, it’s actually quite small and light. I like how you can set the pressure and fill your tires automatically. It’s kind of a luxury as the job could be done just as well with a manual pump, but it’s an important job and I was glad to have this. 7/10
2. phone case
What a great design! It was nice having my phone in a safe, dry and readily accessible place. It wasn’t so easy to see the screen through the plastic cover so I couldn’t really use the map while riding as I’d hoped, but this was still a good find nonetheless. 8/10
1. gloves
I’m really not sure why it took me so long to buy a pair of these. This made the long rides so much more comfortable, and I expect will contribute to the longevity of the handlebar covers. My only complaint is the strange tan line this created on my hands, but even that is kinda cool. 9/10
8: After LifeIn Kore-eda’s film After Life, the main characters’ job is to work with the recently deceased to choose and recreate their happiest memory from life. They record this for their souls to re-experience for eternity. I’ve given some thought to what memory I would pick. Right now the top contender is riding through flat Hokkaido farmlands on a sunny day with a slight, cool tailwind and no vehicles in sight while thinking of friends and family.
9: hot chef for AndyNot sure if he’ll see this here but wanted to share.
Below is a bonus Seico Mart run which couldn't be more Hokkaido if I tried ...which I did
10: having a computer and having to workI’ve always preferred desktops to laptops, but recent circumstances led me to own a laptop which I brought with me. This was both lucky and unlucky. It was convenient to be able to organize photos every night, as two full weeks of pictures would be have been an intimidating amount in one go. However, being connected this way made the trip less of an escape than I had hoped. This was somewhat intentional. Presentation proposals for the online conference I’m chairing are due a couple days after the trip ends, and I couldn’t stop responding to questions and submissions during this time. I tried my best to separate work and play mindsets, and was moderately successful.
11: perfect breakfastI’ve thought about this meal every day since it happened. The ride from Furano to Asahikawa was the shortest travel day, so I opted to take some scenic backroads. The hostel I stayed at the night before didn’t provide breakfast, so I rode the first 20km or so on an empty stomach. I thought about getting something from a convenience store on the way out of town, but wanted to see if there was something more interesting along the way. Unfortunately there wasn’t, and I got pretty hungry and tired. I decided to change my course and head back to the main road to look for a convenience store, but on the way stumbled on this adorable farm with a public flower garden. I stopped to take pictures of the lavender, and that is when I noticed they also had a small meal house where they served, among other things, soft cream on a melon half. In normal circumstances this would have been way too much food for me to finish, but it was just what I needed in that moment to power me for the rest of the day. More broadly, I think this meal is somewhat representative of general dining in Hokkaido. High-quality local ingredients, prepared simply without pretention. I wish I could wake up to (half of) this every day.
12: typhoon number 5Weather the first few days was really great, somewhere between sunny and cloudy and never too hot. Unfortunately, I wasn’t so lucky in the second half. Besides getting rained on pretty much every day, the wind from a typhoon on the day I planned to travel between Asahikawa and Sapporo made cycling more or less impossible. I left a bit earlier in the morning than usual to give myself a fighting chance of making the full trip, but the conditions were dangerous even as I made slow steady progress. Due to the direction, when the wind wasn't pushing me directly back, it jerked me unpredictably towards the center of the road. For my pride, I still hoped to make it all the way to Sapporo on my own, but was forced to accept that it wouldn’t happen on this day when I saw a branch bigger than me blown off a tree down the road. Since the following day was meant for rest, I considered spending the night in Takikawa and attempting to ride the remaining 80km then. Isamu convinced me to eat that pride, ride a train to Sapporo and have a fun evening. I did that, and while disappointed with the outcome, feel no remorse in making that choice.
13: SapporoThough I’ve been in and around Sapporo several times, for many reasons this felt like the first chance to truly appreciate the city. The first visit was when I was a student on my way to the homestay in Hakodate. The group arrived in the evening and only stayed one night. I’d only been in Japan for several weeks at the time and hadn’t developed my exploration skills. The next visit was several years later during the winter festival with Asto-chan. This was a fun trip, but didn’t really reflect the city in its natural state. Since then, I’ve only passed by Sapporo on several ski trips. It’s not very close to any mountains, so we tend not to stay in the city proper.
This trip was different! Thanks to the push from Isamu to ride the train through the typhoon, I was able to spend almost two full days in the city and appreciate what it has to offer. I was fully charmed by the mild summer, abundant greenery in the urban areas and good food and drink all around. I’m pushing Isamu to retrace some of this journey with me by car some day and hopefully spend some more time here.
14: Keijiro-sanThe first time I came to Hokkaido was almost precisely 15 years ago when I did a two-week home stay in Hakodate. Though the children have grown up and moved out, I was hopeful that I could meet the parents at their home there. Unfortunately, no one is living there right now, but I was able to meet up with the host father, Keijiro-san in Sapporo where he now lives and works as a high school English teacher.
We’re so much older! When we first met, I had very little understanding of the Japanese public school system. It was interesting to catch up now that I’ve pursued the same career as him and have a much more developed mental infrastructure to listen to his experiences and share my own. I was embarrassed to hear that he still uses in his classes the video tour of our old house in New Jersey from their family visit in 2007 >_<
And here are some more shots from Hakodate when I made it there.
15: Hunger by Roxane GayHaving the computer to keep me busy at night, I wasn’t reading as prolifically as I hoped. I only finished a couple of books, which I’ll review here.
In Hunger, Roxane Gay describes her experience of being super morbidly obese. With brutal honesty, she explains her reasons for eating to excess and the ongoing struggles, both internal and external. I’d read much of her other work before, but this hit me on a much deeper and more personal level. One point that resonated in particular is that her difficulties in navigating the world with her weight have given her insights into the difficulties of others, such as deaf and autistic people. The world would benefit from more of this sort of empathy.
※Ironically, the only time I could sit down and focus on reading this was during meals.
16: bike lanes and minority representation
I’m a bit nervous to make this comparison in writing, but it’s something I thought about a lot while pedaling this trip. I’ll try to be thoughtful in the way I word things and also welcome push back. To be absolutely clear, I don’t mean to suggest that my experiences as a cyclist are comparable in scope to the experiences of racial and other minorities; the sport is something that I choose to continue despite the inherent dangers. My intention is simply to suggest that cycling could be used as a metaphor to help people better understand the notion of privilege and the value of representation.
Cyclists are a minority on the road. On a typical full day of cycling, I pass only one or two people on sports bikes, and thousands in cars, motorcycles, trucks and other majority vehicles. As a result, roads are designed primarily for such vehicles. Though technically cyclists are allowed on all non-highway roads, they don’t always feel “welcome”. Cyclists must constantly be on the lookout for unmarked bumps, holes and messy pavement on road shoulders. Hills, curbs, merge lanes and tunnels all present dangers that drivers typically don’t need to consider. Drivers have various reactions to seeing a cyclist on the road. Occasionally I receive encouraging thumbs up from motorcyclists, but I’ve received twice as many honks from passing cars. This can be quite confusing, as it’s difficult to convey nuance in a honk. In most cases I think they are intended as a warning, “Hey, I’m about to pass you!”, but in at least one case it was an unambiguous “Get the fuck off the road!” In any case, they are startling. In the event of a collision, cyclists are much more vulnerable as their bodies are completely exposed. In this same vein, cyclists are also more susceptible to the elements. While wind and rain can inconvenience a driver, they can ruin a cyclist’s day and potentially prevent them from reaching their destination. Even on clear days, cyclists must anticipate temperature changes and take care to plan accordingly.
The added mental burdens and threats of physical danger that cyclists experience do not discount or belittle the stress of driving a vehicle. However, the fact that drivers don’t need to worry about these things is the definition of majority privilege. This is why it’s so important to design roads to accommodate cyclists, or at the very least not to hinder them. When I see a bike mark on the side of a road, I am reassured and heartened. I know that I am seen. I know that I have permission to take up space. I know that I am not alone. This doesn’t mean of course, that I can assume the riding experience will be completely safe and pleasant. Roads can still buckle and break. Drivers can still act carelessly. It can always rain. Just as no single minority representation could ever be complete and perfect, no single mindfully designed road will fix all the problems that a cyclist might face. It’s the thought behind that design and continual upkeep that is important, just as anti-racism requires intentional action and constant reassessment of our beliefs and behaviors.
17: geography, geology and city planning
I understand Hokkaido to be relatively new compared both to the rest of Japan, both in terms of the formation of the physical island and its habitation by Japanese people. (Before the Japanese it was inhabited by the indigenous Ainu, who have been almost completely assimilated.) This newness is reflected in a couple ways that affect cycling. First, the mountains are much more distinct. Unlike Honshu with vast mountain ranges, Hokkaido has many singular mountains, making them much easier to avoid when necessary. I've heard think this might have something to do with less seismic activity than Honshu, but on research Hokkaido seems equally prone to earthquakes. These mountains also happen to be much lower than the big ones in Honshu, which is why the Hokkaido ski season is relatively short even though it is located so far north. Second, city planning is done on a simple grid. Even the small towns are completely boxed, making it very easy to understand maps. I imagine this helps the snow plows clear the roads in the winter as well. In these ways, cycling Hokkaido was slightly unique and refreshing compared to other cycling I've done in the past.
18: age matters
I turned 35 a few days before starting this trip. The first time I went on a solo bike trip in Japan I was 22. I spent some riding time reflecting on the differences in those experiences. When I was younger I had far less confidence for very good reason. I was less familiar with Japanese roads and the country in general. I couldn’t afford much gear, and in many cases the quality of the gear was much lower than what is available now. It was fun deciphering routes on paper maps, but I got lost so much more frequently before smart phones. I also couldn’t benefit from the map applications which tell me what elevation to expect as I planned specific routes. Furthermore, I had a weaker understanding of my own capabilities and limits back then. All of this led to a lack of confidence which would have made a trip of this scale quite difficult. However, I don’t want to suggest that the riding experience has only gotten better over time. It was precisely that lack of confidence that led to some meaningful interactions with locals. When I stopped to ask for directions, or when they saw me struggling after riding up a mountain where I expected there to be flat land, people often encouraged me and gave me small gifts leading to meaningful conversation. I remember many of these interactions quite vividly, and I think the reason they rarely occur recently is due to some bittersweet combination of age and experience. I wonder how this trip might have been different if I had taken it ten years ago.
19: Wild Seed by Octavia Butler
I’ve set two reading goals this year. The first is a number of books, and the second is to avoid cisgender heterosexual white male authors. This led me to the work of Octavia Butler, who is quickly becoming a favorite fiction author. Wild Seed did not disappoint. I don't want to give away too much about the premise, but I'll just say that the prose, pacing, characters, and fantasy world building within the genre of historical fiction are all on point. Would highly recommend!
20: miscellaneous things I’d prefer not to forget
-so many bars everywhere, even in tiny towns, and Seico Mart’s impressive wine selection
-old ladies running the minshuku in Wakkanai who talked about me from the social but completely audible distance of 2m away
-riding between Sapporo to Niseko through Otaru with a group of elementary school cyclists
-racing a dog pulling its owner on a bicycle
-colorful and eclectic Oshamanbe guest house
-Yoshi's endless encouragement and advice, even though he's no longer in Kushiro
-friendly people along the way (Minamimoto-san, Daisuke, Isshi, Yuji, Kyohei, Nobu-san, Nori, cottage lady, Hiroshi)
-all the animals and fairy bugs!
21: soft cream
