tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-77090949262797839272024-02-07T02:31:57.688-08:00A Man, A Plan, JapanMy name is Dylan Jacoby and in July of 2011 I will begin a fundraiser/bike ride starting from Cape Sata in the south of Japan to Cape Soya in the North, a 2,000 mile ride. I will be raising money for the Japanese Red Cross, as well as seeing some sights, taking some pictures and blogging along the way!Dylanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13266743677117674617noreply@blogger.comBlogger22125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7709094926279783927.post-48563035607226201102011-09-15T18:51:00.002-07:002012-04-05T20:03:51.809-07:00The End<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"> Today I wake up around 8 to the sunlight pouring through my window. I slowly pack my things, leaving behind those items which I wont need for a relatively short ride like today's. I begin riding with a surreal feeling that I have a hunch will be with me for the entire day. This is it. No matter what happens, I am on the home stretch. Even if my bike spontaneously explodes, I am within a days walk of my goal.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Again I am blessed with an astounding tailwind that carries me effortlessly on my way. I eat some breakfast with some fellow bike tourists that are just starting a little vacation around Hokkaido. They are amazed when I tell them where I have come from and inform me that they will be waiting for me at the Cape. I do not want or expect great praise for my accomplishment, and something about people who know nothing about me waiting for me to celebrate with me makes me uncomfortable. I would rather accept the end of this journey as I have lived it, with just me and my bike.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">At any rate, the day is gorgeous and the riding is easy. So easy that there is really nothing interesting to report, except for the last kilometer or so.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I had a general sense of the distance to the cape, as well as the layout of the land. I knew that Cape Soya was around a bend and (obviously) the furthest point north. Each time I came to a curve in the road where I couldn't see anything further north beyond it, my heart would skip a beat. To this day I still can't quite pinpoint what emotion(s) that amounts to, but it seemed like I was feeling every emotion at once.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Then it came, the last bend in the road. I <i>knew</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> this was it. At this point something strange happened, though I guess I could've seen it coming. I began resenting this glorious tailwind, pushing me on and almost forcing me to finish. Honestly I didn't even have to pedal and I would still be moving forward, such was the strength of the wind.</span></div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">Throughout my ride, I would often be frustrated at my bike's gear ratio. Since it was more of a road bike than a touring bike, it's lowest (easiest to pedal) gear wasn't quite as low as it should be. This meant that on grueling uphill climbs, even the most 'laid-back' gear would still have me huffing and puffing in no time. More than any other day, though, I wanted more than ever to have that lower gear. I wanted to inch my way as slowly as possible to the finish line. I could see my goal before me stretching out into eternity, basking in every feeling, thought and emotion the experience had to offer. I knew right then and there that this feeling, whatever it was, could never be replicated, even if I took another bike tour that was exponentially longer and harder.</div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-style: normal;">So there I was, pedaling as slowly as my ability to balance would allow, making my way to Cape Soya, 2,000 miles from where I had begun. My mind was racing with what I can only describe as everything. All at once I felt happy, sad, angry, calm, nervous, confident. Furthermore, my desires were equally out of whack. I felt like boarding the next plane to America and going home while also wanting to buy land in Japan and live there forever. It was messy...but in a good way. All this time I was thinking about what it would be like to dismount from my steed and meditate on Japan's northernmost point. I would've never guessed that the most meaningful part of my trip would actually be the 0.5 km </span><i>before</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> I finished it. </span> </div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">Having spent the last 53 days pedaling along, always in motion, it felt somehow unnatural to enjoy Soya while standing or sitting. It was still a powerful experience, but riding a bike every day instills in oneself a restlessness that cannot be appeased easily.</div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">I spend a few hours there, taking pictures, making calls and eating a bowl of Ramen at one of the little touristy restaurants they have there, but after that I figured it was time to move on. For the first time in 53 days, I begin to ride south.</div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-style: normal;">As another first, I decide to listen to my iPod while on the ride back. I am categorically against such reckless behavior, but ever since my ride into Haboro, I have learned that the sound of the wind blowing against you is much, much worse than music in terms of robbing your sense of hearing/sanity. I am immediately shocked and endeared by the song that begins playing first as I start my ride, Bob Dylan's </span><i>Blowin' in the Wind.</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> Needless to say, I ride with a big smile on my face.</span></div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">Though it takes about 3 times longer to return to Wakkanai than it did to get there (it turns out tailwinds only help you in one direction at a time), I didn't mind at all, because it was a great opportunity to reflect and enjoy the end of the ride. </div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">The rest of the day continues in a blur. It becomes miserably rainy, so the party that Miki-san had planned at his restaurant was attended by me and about 4 other people. This was actually much better because whenever more people are around it is harder for me to enjoy myself as I am so conscious of trying to speak good Japanese and put forth my best face. I can be much more myself in a more intimate setting, so in a way it was the perfect party to end my trip. Tomorrow, Miki-san has offered to give me a ride to the airport in Wakkanai, where I will take a few connecting flights before I reach home back in Fukuoka.</div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">Now that it is all said and done, I have wracked my brains with exactly what I wanted to say to “cap it all off.” To that effect I have not fared very well. To me, accomplishing his has taught me so unbelievably much about people, success, failure, the world and countless other things that I cant imaging saying anything that speaks to it specifically. On the other hand, any general words of wisdom I can give have been said and written a thousand times before in motivational books. I suppose the difference between the specific and the general is in the middle, where the life is. I can't tell you something that you don't already know (unless it is a question about bike touring in Japan), so all that's left to do is to get out there, make some mistakes and spend entirely too much of your savings chasing something that is important to you. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It brought a tear to my eye to see the name of my goal, printed in real life!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In the flesh, at the end</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My wonderful host, serenading his guests</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Before going to the airport</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Learning to cook Japanese style</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Miki-san's hilarious wife</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXflQ-uEVptHxq4SNeMC98AO4QHBYJ6dJQvMLJXmpxTUE63hmu_ioEAN-q1o92GINhlDJx5v0Uo-bWz55ba67erFcyyBmbl9KfP5XfRJdiEtwhyVCxvct7hykjHlWh5gfkdHO0fzCFbfg/s1600/DSCN1754.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXflQ-uEVptHxq4SNeMC98AO4QHBYJ6dJQvMLJXmpxTUE63hmu_ioEAN-q1o92GINhlDJx5v0Uo-bWz55ba67erFcyyBmbl9KfP5XfRJdiEtwhyVCxvct7hykjHlWh5gfkdHO0fzCFbfg/s320/DSCN1754.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My final picture, a simple thanks</td></tr>
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</div>Dylanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13266743677117674617noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7709094926279783927.post-90250184072624961072011-09-14T18:50:00.001-07:002012-04-05T19:42:51.271-07:00The Northlands!<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Woke up in my dorm-like room feeling very business-like today. Unlike my goal 2 days ago when I really <i>wanted</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> to cover 150 km that day, today I </span><i>must </i><span style="font-style: normal;">ride 140 km. Rain, wind, or shine nothing is stopping me on this day.</span></div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">I stroll into the dining room where the Okaa-san tells me that breakfast will be ready shortly. My 2 touring companions are already seated and we make some more chit chat about things to see and routes to take for the day. My motorcycle buddy from Kumamoto turns his laptop towards me to show me a weather map showing that the wind for today will be blowing from the south. I almost yelp with delight at the prospect a tailwind, the holy grail of bike touring. I cannot stress enough how preferable the steepest mountain is to even a moderate headwind...but I wont get back into that again.</div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">Even though I'm still kicking myself for paying so much to stay at this Ryokan, I am continually surprised at how wonderful they are at taking care of their guests and the home-cooked breakfast leaves little to desire. I suppose a place that caters to people who are touring all day knows exactly what kind of food to cook for the tourists body, be it motorcycle or bicycle. As I am leaving, the owner gives me a gift-wrapped nut from a tree that only grows in this part of Japan. A gift that some might find cheesy or inconsequential, yet for me it is the perfect symbol for remembering this part of my journey.</div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">I set off in the mid-morning light, showered with unexpected but appreciated warmth from the sun. Very quickly I began to feel a certain invincibility in my body. The hills were quite up and down, but my legs never felt tired on the climbs and I was overtaken with just how beautiful this day was in every conceivable day. Usually I don’t much like sounding like a hippy when describing things, but I realized early on that this was easily one of the greatest days of my entire life. This epiphany occurred around 10 a.m., but let me assure you that the rest of the day only got better from there.</div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">Another word of advice I received from my biker-bud from the Ryokan was to take a small frontage road that forked off from a small village. I had initially planned on following the main, marked roads, as they have rarely led me astray during my trip. With profuse wavy movements of his arm (the kind you make when the car window is rolled down) he assured me that I will be climbing and descending hills the entire way to Wakkanai if I chose the main road. Deciding to trust again in the good will of the Japanese people, when I came to the fork I took the frontage road and what followed was simply the best 50 km of riding that any person has ever ridden...ever.</div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-style: normal;">First of all it was flat. I had a tail wind. The temperature was perfect, and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. I had the ocean to my left and beautiful fields of rice bowing from the weight of plump grains on my right. Thought it baffled me, the road was also </span><i>immaculate</i><span style="font-style: normal;">. Typically these types of roads are used only by the junky pick-up trucks of Japanese farmers and are paved only once every 1,000 years. I must've been right on the millennial timing of these roads because it was like riding on a baby's bottom.</span></div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-style: normal;">I rode for hours and hours, with nary the need or the desire to take a break for any reason but to use the bathroom. One such break placed me at the </span><i>last</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> michi-no-eki on the way north in Japan. Honestly in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by windblown fields of tall grass, this lone roadway station stood as the last bastion of civilization before I reached the great, wild north of Japan. I sat down for a delicious meal of curry and rice, accompanied by some world famous Hokkaido milk. As I drank this wondrous ambrosia, I was struck by how strange it is that milk isn't served with every meal of Japanese curry. Not that it's too spicy, the flavors just complement each other so darn well.</span></div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-style: normal;">As I came back to saddle up and ride out, I noticed fellow bike tourists (Japanese) taking a break in the shade. We went through the normal chit chat and as I prepared myself for the usual praise and amazement when I tell them where I've come from, I'm met instead with an exclaimed “</span><i>watashi mo!”</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> (me too!). Excited by the news that someone else has made the exact same journey, we take a few moments to talk shop and recount our accomplishments. I do a sort of double take when I ask him to repeat when he started his ride, because I </span><i>thought</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> he said August 22</span><sup><span style="font-style: normal;">nd</span></sup><span style="font-style: normal;"> (about 1 full month after I began my ride). Turns out he </span><i>did</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> say August 22</span><sup><span style="font-style: normal;">nd</span></sup><span style="font-style: normal;">, at which point I bow down to him because I am clearly not worthy to share the same tailwind as such a speed demon. I'll admit that I could most definitely have gotten this far much faster than I did, but a full month ahead of schedule would've likely killed me. Though I am impressed with his speed and ability, I must admit that I would not change a single thing about my ride up until this point. The people I've met and the things I have seen have too deeply changed me to think that having stronger legs would be a fair trade.</span></div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">We say our goodbyes and I set out knowing that, if this heaven-sent wind keeps up, I will not only make it to Wakkanai on this day, but I will be about 3 hours ahead of schedule. I'll be honest, I was whole-heartedly expecting Wakkanai to be a somewhat desolate village-type place where toilets were a luxury, and electricity was intermittent at best. What I found was actually a full blown city that was apparently a hot tourist destination for many Russians (which was geographically quite close, a mere 6 hour boat ride away). As I rode around in awe at the Russian/Japanese signs and familiar shops like the 100-yen store and McDonalds, I call my host for the night, Miki-san. I follow his car to his house and, for the first time, I am confronted by the wind that had been helping me so much throughout the day. I assume that this ferocious beast is asking only for a toll for the good tidings I had received and I payed it gladly (though with teeth gritted and legs straining). </div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-style: normal;">As it turns out, Miki-san owns a successful Izakaya in Wakkanai called (NAME HERE!!!), and he has a few rooms above the restaurant that he occassionally rents out. Currently he had a vacancy, and this is where he put me up for the night. Suffice to say, this was easily one of the coolest places I have stayed and I was elated that I had such comfortable lodging on one of my last nights. Miki-san told me to rest up, shower up and come down to the bar for dinner whenever I felt like it, and I couldn't help but feel notice that the day had </span><i>still </i><span style="font-style: normal;">managed to get even better.</span></div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-style: normal;">After showering I headed down to the bar where I was met by Miki-san's wife, a jolly Russian/Japanese woman. Knowing that she would be hosting an American, she had done her absolute best to concoct an “American” style meal for me. This amounted to some amazing French fries, three of the largest fried chicken breasts I have ever seen and a rice and cheddar cheese mixture that tasted quite a bit like risotto. My heart was unbelievably warmed by the kindness of these people who just 24 hours ago didn't even know I was coming to stay with them. I rallied my fortitude as best I could and managed to eat and drink </span><i>everything</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> that was put in front of me, including some leftover offerings from other patrons. The smile on Miki-san's wife face as I devoured her wonderful food made it all worth when later it felt as if I had several food babies incubating inside of me.</span></div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Full out of my mind and a bit drunk I try walking about the town for a little while hoping to speed up the digestive processes. I refelct on the night and Miki's words as I left the bar: “Tomorrow, we celebrate.” Assuming that tonight </span><i>wasn't </i><span style="font-style: normal;">a celebration...I assume that I will certainly die at the “party” they have planned. After about an hour more of walking, I lay myself down on the floor of Miki-san's spare room and pass out into the deepest food-induced coma in medical history. Tomorrow, I reach Cape Soya.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht_ZgtHarJm9aDajcnaJyVQORIHzixHxMqsjioJ-0mqsSQv8WjkA1McvQR3mbIvYl0ssUIbnfsYHILv6VbAH3F4vWlFMKhr6EIAeO-Awgo59H1rQdc8NP6ZfidNGEKv6YudScM7Bf31mE/s1600/DSCN1703.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht_ZgtHarJm9aDajcnaJyVQORIHzixHxMqsjioJ-0mqsSQv8WjkA1McvQR3mbIvYl0ssUIbnfsYHILv6VbAH3F4vWlFMKhr6EIAeO-Awgo59H1rQdc8NP6ZfidNGEKv6YudScM7Bf31mE/s320/DSCN1703.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ryokans can be expensive, but I guess you get what you pay for. Definitely one of the best breakfasts ever.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsLDHXz7F72Xv3x3kazqeVBF8nAvQsAOywPGtdy4v5VnW6NwLAWcNu4ekT-MYDcjRj78sGavkdFhdmKf5trLnjut_13MF9KpGcXHwklEzqz0TL9BKlCry4RKoBvmwJLv-446SSyRyapjo/s1600/DSCN1705.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsLDHXz7F72Xv3x3kazqeVBF8nAvQsAOywPGtdy4v5VnW6NwLAWcNu4ekT-MYDcjRj78sGavkdFhdmKf5trLnjut_13MF9KpGcXHwklEzqz0TL9BKlCry4RKoBvmwJLv-446SSyRyapjo/s320/DSCN1705.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me, in Shadow form</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2OwjFlqRsaEsyESFByeylDdGpQPfy7ZkDRIFAvnDo2QL-Ge5_w8nSmXSd43XLicxc9z80scc7eBvIQVMPnODwtYaIM8CrNW3oPKrvZmqvNxRlCZeSCeiRGSeR5GC3Ejw8jEuwkeFLp0o/s1600/DSCN1711.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2OwjFlqRsaEsyESFByeylDdGpQPfy7ZkDRIFAvnDo2QL-Ge5_w8nSmXSd43XLicxc9z80scc7eBvIQVMPnODwtYaIM8CrNW3oPKrvZmqvNxRlCZeSCeiRGSeR5GC3Ejw8jEuwkeFLp0o/s320/DSCN1711.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The happy faces of windmills</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnzen8BDlTpmrJnLpYfOBQxOG5MCdWqijuTH6u0QFViVIWI0MrWYaUH5nZ9w0dW8cq-20ifu71LPwhTqK7HwiMy-RrG2PFdylpOjLxOxa1b8f7Z9d8nxDpuRHJ8BXCFBn_QZEv5PUA3KM/s1600/DSCN1720.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnzen8BDlTpmrJnLpYfOBQxOG5MCdWqijuTH6u0QFViVIWI0MrWYaUH5nZ9w0dW8cq-20ifu71LPwhTqK7HwiMy-RrG2PFdylpOjLxOxa1b8f7Z9d8nxDpuRHJ8BXCFBn_QZEv5PUA3KM/s320/DSCN1720.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another of the best meals ever. Curry and Hokkaido milk</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAP1zKg406yyhyphenhyphenSDu97qggcuMziWwR6gu8B77-B6VZrsQ8l1eMyWUoxsEdZ7k03Cr68VsGtPM4aAoH-bq7XHevxyM7c04L99B56M0_YzqlT4mN1PsOD5c0Ubm15sNFTYTC7ao6LDfXYyY/s1600/DSCN1723.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAP1zKg406yyhyphenhyphenSDu97qggcuMziWwR6gu8B77-B6VZrsQ8l1eMyWUoxsEdZ7k03Cr68VsGtPM4aAoH-bq7XHevxyM7c04L99B56M0_YzqlT4mN1PsOD5c0Ubm15sNFTYTC7ao6LDfXYyY/s320/DSCN1723.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There's my trusty steed, always waiting for me</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjibdnLVudMi1rMm33KU7-6mxrFV6ajgXK8rG48VfBW3B7Ku1Q-tu4sOkTO_GdJJp16W6arZZjdbjIbNpZKEOER6SAXdCHJ1gkbaotPOoYoko_2EOyNtk2yRyDHQII872aHmf83r7ZgEDk/s1600/DSCN1728.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjibdnLVudMi1rMm33KU7-6mxrFV6ajgXK8rG48VfBW3B7Ku1Q-tu4sOkTO_GdJJp16W6arZZjdbjIbNpZKEOER6SAXdCHJ1gkbaotPOoYoko_2EOyNtk2yRyDHQII872aHmf83r7ZgEDk/s320/DSCN1728.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The end is in sight</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5D0M2pRt8aMhJQc35ygyq3rtY4YrdCuLT8l50M3CMM_8uN0k4C2qzeQDog5-jX-yF129DHQbe7vshqNSH3nmglxONOtARxqa8nhI0g3j5EQBuJQ05M01w-BgWGZN2zDtt9QEjGfbSGLI/s1600/DSCN1736.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5D0M2pRt8aMhJQc35ygyq3rtY4YrdCuLT8l50M3CMM_8uN0k4C2qzeQDog5-jX-yF129DHQbe7vshqNSH3nmglxONOtARxqa8nhI0g3j5EQBuJQ05M01w-BgWGZN2zDtt9QEjGfbSGLI/s320/DSCN1736.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hilarious form, bravo.</td></tr>
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</span></div>Dylanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13266743677117674617noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7709094926279783927.post-5502731231706813362011-09-13T22:19:00.002-07:002012-04-05T19:27:56.846-07:003 Days to Go...I wake up in Takikawa exponentially more excited than the day before, knowing that I am now just a mere 3 days away from completion. Unfortunately I am also starving, as I neglected to feed myself anything more than a bread bun filled with bean paste the night before (sounds gross, but darn those things grow on you!). I set out at 6 a.m. in search of a convenience store breakfast and an Italian with a questionable sense of his Japanese geography.<br />
<br />
I have a Japanese cell phone, and he has an American one. Both of our phones are extremely powerful and effective in their own way...but neither of our plans allows for the phones to call one another. Relegated now to awkwardly browsing Facebook and sending messages back and forth I find a road that should be the only road on which Fabio could travel to continue on his journey. I hunker down with my egg and rice bowl and wait. And wait. And wait. And wait. I am not sure if I mentioned this earlier, but even though I am 3 days from my goal, I have <i>only</i> 3 days to complete it. While assuming the ride will be flat and easy, where it lacks in hills it will make up in distance. I was hoping to cover 150 km (95 miles) today, but every minute I spend waiting for Fabio is a minute close I could be to completing my journey. With a heavy, frustrated heart, I decide to set off and try to make up for the hour lost waiting for the Italian Stallion (A good name for his bike, whether or not he named it), and set off for Rumoi and the western coast.<br />
<br />
While riding today, I learned just how much the rarity of something can account for the awe it inspires in people. For example, we have dragonflies in Colorado, but seeing them is usually dependent on a certain season, and even then sightings are somewhat rare. Riding along today I had the inital pleasure of seeing small groups (flocks?) of dragonflies buzzing along next to me and I was momentarily struck by the beauty of nature around me. Immediately after I was struck in the face by another flock (pack?) of dragonflies heading the opposite direction. I looked up to see what amounted to a cloud of hundreds of dragonflies to my left and right all buzzing around in the pastures next to the road.<br />
<br />
What I thought was a rare and cherished sight soon became a vicious game of dodge ball with a tactical squadron of insects. Down from the main formation they would swoop, heading at me with unmatched grace (or clumsiness). Bank left, bank right, up, down SWOOSH by my ear. Here comes the next one, flutter back, dive forward, barrel roll, SMACK in the chest. On and on for miles, the dragonflies and I play cat and mouse. All in all, it was a hilarious and unique way to spend an hour and a half of riding, but as I rode into the final set of hills the swarms petered out.<br />
<br />
Finally, the roads were becoming less congested and the scenery becoming as beautiful as ever. In the midst of my appreciation of my surroundings I hear my phone ringing from my bag. I pickup and it is my ever watchful guardian, Kawasaki-san. He has called to give me an particularly amazing piece of news, that he has worked out transportation for me from Wakkanai (the northernmost city) to Fukuoka by plane. This is great news, because I hadn't actually planned out how I would be returning triumphantly to Fukuoka, though I knew a decent ferry system existed in Japan. Once I managed to pick my jaw up off of the asphalt and thank Kawasaki-san profusely I asked him how much I owed him for the ticket. In classic Japanese form, he told me not to worry about it. At that point I just didn't even know what to do in the face of such generosity. Here is a man to which I owe almost all of my life in Japan, yet he never ceases to amaze me with such heartrending kindness.<br />
<br />
Kawasaki-san and I finish our conversation and I continue on my way, gliding as if on a cloud through the winding valleys of northern Japan. As soon as I reach Rumoi, I am initially buoyed by the excitement of reaching the previous days goal, I soon learn the true pain of a strong headwind. I would like everyone to take a moment and perform an experiment. You will only need 1 or 2 things, either a fan or 2 friends. If you are using a fan, put it directly in front of your face and turn the fan on full blast. With friends, have each one blow strongly into your ears. Now really take it all in, the incessant blowing. Cant hear anything else? Great. Annoying to feel it on your face constantly? Perfect. It is through this headwind that I now intimately understand how torture works. Pedaling for miles and miles with a constant wind blowing in your face is annoying by itself, but when it is also actively slowing you down, prolonging its contact with you, it is enough to drive you nearly insane.<br />
<br />
I have chosen a town called Haboro as my resting spot. Mostly because it is just barely at my threshold for the maximum distance I wanted to travel tomorrow, and I am entirely exhausted from all this wind. For the first time on my ride, I decide to try a Japanese style Ryokan (mostly because every other place in town was full or wouldn't take me in for some strange reason). A Ryokan is like a hotel, but it is usually run out of someone's house, and is a much more intimate experience. Usually the hosts will make a bath for you and cook your meals, somewhat like a home-stay. It is much more expensive than I would like ($65 for the night, dinner and breakfast, still not too bad), but it is an experience that you can have only in Japan, so I will appreciate it.<br />
<br />
There are only 2 other guests there that night, so I have a dormitory style room all to myself, which is a welcome comfort. At dinner we go through the usually rounds of small talk, talking shop about our rides and tips of the road. One of the cyclists gives me an alternate routing suggestion that sounds like it will really pay off.<br />
<br />
I am very tired and worried about the long day I have ahead of me in the morning, so I am quick to say goodnight and head to my room. Tomorrow will be one of the longest rides of the trip and I sorely hope the wind is blowing in my favor!<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgal28-2cwcvKijMX7nFLchOtxJfCLN-HSrwrltDHLeM2TMriJ_LaixW7OG2w0G5_YHa-hRENvC4m3xqJmMcuMPuRJq62nsZ5KRmNkDSziAitAhMUtrM71HJ_uGpi9ZLgZEGnz0g4DMIfg/s1600/DSCN1695.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgal28-2cwcvKijMX7nFLchOtxJfCLN-HSrwrltDHLeM2TMriJ_LaixW7OG2w0G5_YHa-hRENvC4m3xqJmMcuMPuRJq62nsZ5KRmNkDSziAitAhMUtrM71HJ_uGpi9ZLgZEGnz0g4DMIfg/s320/DSCN1695.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another quirky museum with cutting implements and stuffed bears</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_cEPd_PJIN1pGdY0IpVUUixL-8hn26m6jOMELluqyFrIYN8o4yotmkbtL6RPSwUWXWzlRniCN4gWI01fT8vEQqvskx2re-dXwYpQkmQ4zgazG_pVBehxBzWZ90z5TOvj4SMmguUgg0to/s1600/DSCN1698.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_cEPd_PJIN1pGdY0IpVUUixL-8hn26m6jOMELluqyFrIYN8o4yotmkbtL6RPSwUWXWzlRniCN4gWI01fT8vEQqvskx2re-dXwYpQkmQ4zgazG_pVBehxBzWZ90z5TOvj4SMmguUgg0to/s320/DSCN1698.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Authentic Japanese shack. The real way of life in Hokkaido hundreds of years ago</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYntgLQSn25x564cKGgBGSf198iT2dDifmCcsjJzyteASUlfEbdCceNh7nVc8jkJEpPETwGZijYSsCB1rk3a-2CboozZ15_2C4GsOMoZMws9QcZIlYb6eNdPX-JI45KO8DLwdD7yskvew/s1600/DSCN1699.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYntgLQSn25x564cKGgBGSf198iT2dDifmCcsjJzyteASUlfEbdCceNh7nVc8jkJEpPETwGZijYSsCB1rk3a-2CboozZ15_2C4GsOMoZMws9QcZIlYb6eNdPX-JI45KO8DLwdD7yskvew/s320/DSCN1699.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Snow Booties</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7WyOTLGArMmaDbDIH3uxwmij4oe-yKq-grM6RhefBksK3__G3TTWxRZIzUcdz4JbGeUVwNGztfoD-pQt0jNHpmG160aP8Du0FJRqy9EvXNGDGED2qNECf4hckzX8pqvxslkovQVerx1Y/s1600/DSCN1702.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7WyOTLGArMmaDbDIH3uxwmij4oe-yKq-grM6RhefBksK3__G3TTWxRZIzUcdz4JbGeUVwNGztfoD-pQt0jNHpmG160aP8Du0FJRqy9EvXNGDGED2qNECf4hckzX8pqvxslkovQVerx1Y/s320/DSCN1702.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sea Arch</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Dylanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13266743677117674617noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7709094926279783927.post-70452346097283651562011-09-12T22:15:00.001-07:002012-04-05T19:05:53.648-07:004 Days To Go...I set off today from Sapporo feeling weary, nervous but unbelievably excited. I was so close to my final goal that I knew that nothing would stop me from reaching it, even if that meant commandeering the nearest child's bike and riding off into the sunset on my way. However, I still have about 150 miles to go and the weather is noticeably colder this far north. I begin my ride cautiously, knowing that a lot can happen in 4 days...and it's supposed to rain ALL day today.<br />
<br />
My goal for today's ride is to make it to Rumoi, which as far as my topographical expertise leads me to believe, is truly the last stop before I am on the home stretch, cruising along 100 miles of FLAT, western Hokkaido coastline. <br />
<br />
Most of the day is spent riding along the last truly industrial highway of Japan's north country, so it is remarkable only because the trucks here are actually <i>larger</i> than the trucks on the mainland. In retrospect this makes sense because Hokkaido is much more open compared to the mainland, and has room for larger roads, and thus larger trucks, but in my dreams I imagined the north country as a pleasant and persistent meadow, constantly peaceful and devoid of all vehicles which ran on gas. Some call me a dreamer.<br />
<br />
The day was pleasantly interrupted by two nice occurrences, however. The first of which was receiving a call from my family on my cell phone. Knowing I couldn't answer whilst riding (on a highway, no less) I began looking for a quiet place to chat. To my surprise, I found the most quaintly furnished bus stop that I have ever seen in my life. The inside was carpeted and the walls were adorned with 1980's posters of the New York skyline. Furthermore, there was a potted plant and an old timey wicker broom hanging on the wall. Whether it was for cleaning or further austerity, I will never know. Had I ridden more than 40 miles already, I would've laid out my sleeping bag and called that place home for the night in a heartbeat.<br />
<br />
Having concluded the conversation with the 'rents, I figured I might as well check my email and, to my surprise again, I found a message from a Mr. Fabio Barbieri, the other man my age riding a bike across Japan for charity. Since I had started in the south and headed north and he had taken the converse route, he suggested we meet up somewhere in the middle. It turns out the "middle" was going to be the small town of Takikawa, where we planned to meet up and exchange stories of the road.<br />
<br />
So my plans were changed a bit, but it was for the better as I would be able to relate with one of the few other people who will soon understand exactly what it's like to try and ride a bike across a country. I begin my search now for a reasonable place to stay in Takikawa. I have recently abandoned the search for free accommodations, as a freezing cold night in a covered bathroom has taught me that the weather is no longer nice enough to offset the miserable conditions of sleeping near toilets.<br />
<br />
After a bit of riding around and calling, I settle on a large business hotel just outside of town. As it turns out, this business hotel was essentially a large tumor that had grown on top of an extremely cozy mom and pop hotel that had once been here many years earlier. The new owners have kept all the cozy, log-cabin themed rooms tucked away in a wing, while building all of the other business-y rooms on top of them. The extremely kind girls at the counter, as well as the extremely empty hotel meant that I could have my pick of the litter when it came to room choices. I was so exhausted that I only managed to wander around the creepily empty halls and take in the atmosphere for about 30 minutes before I returned to my room and fell asleep to some Sumo in my "hometown" of Fukuoka.<br />
<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguofAKvVDyqmBLXx1CDfyTnTZVVeBmjyJSkamOZPjwBlpnc-2A07ANbAxBayG66uI3z4A8vZ-9HhGnF0jDAYrfuDLbKBKgVO0Ade-Sc7oo5pbXXhPDIx_Mmu9bpc0r7t4qCE7JDdPCG0I/s1600/DSCN1694.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguofAKvVDyqmBLXx1CDfyTnTZVVeBmjyJSkamOZPjwBlpnc-2A07ANbAxBayG66uI3z4A8vZ-9HhGnF0jDAYrfuDLbKBKgVO0Ade-Sc7oo5pbXXhPDIx_Mmu9bpc0r7t4qCE7JDdPCG0I/s320/DSCN1694.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I wonder if the Japanese here says "Pinnochio's Revenge"</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAkh-fWvJ0pdhc_xTzIeg70UG1iF14HuMRNxmU3WbALiuVs3-6RjVDPLwUPfPwsImy-HlhfgpJgK1fo8I97vLMR2K0l30x9GytEssoZ232DjsUXvUBRPpg-TJ4L1OKsEtkVJkxQSgm7Lo/s1600/DSCN1696.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAkh-fWvJ0pdhc_xTzIeg70UG1iF14HuMRNxmU3WbALiuVs3-6RjVDPLwUPfPwsImy-HlhfgpJgK1fo8I97vLMR2K0l30x9GytEssoZ232DjsUXvUBRPpg-TJ4L1OKsEtkVJkxQSgm7Lo/s320/DSCN1696.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some old fishing implements used for cutting up fish. Saw this in a roadside museum and thought it looked neat</td></tr>
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</div>Dylanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13266743677117674617noreply@blogger.com0Takikawa, Hokkaido Prefecture, Japan43.5577948 141.910189543.4859768 141.806178 43.629612800000004 142.014201tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7709094926279783927.post-16491552160085617912011-09-12T19:15:00.000-07:002011-09-14T20:16:49.087-07:00Dylan is a Columbine celebrity!Dylan's faithful followers can see him featured in this weeks Columbine Courier - Sept14 edition! <a href="http://www.columbinecourier.com/"></a><br />
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<a href="http://www.columbinecourier.com/content/columbine-grad-riding-bike-across-japan-help-victims-quake-tsunami">http://www.columbinecourier.com/content/columbine-grad-riding-bike-across-japan-help-victims-quake-tsunami</a><br />
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Can't wait to see you home in a few weeks, way to go Dylan! Love mom, dad, HanaDylanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13266743677117674617noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7709094926279783927.post-29172006277686040082011-09-12T12:41:00.000-07:002011-09-12T12:41:50.402-07:00Only 3 days left!!!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I can't even begin to describe how strange it feels to be so close to the goal of this trip. As I sit here now, in <a href="http://maps.google.com/maps?q=Sapporo,+Hokkaido+Prefecture,+Japan&hl=en&ll=42.633959,140.712891&spn=4.582347,8.580322&sll=37.0625,-95.677068&sspn=39.371738,68.642578&vpsrc=6&t=m&z=7">Sapporo, Japan</a>, a mere 300 km (190 miles) and 3 days from reaching the northern tip of Japan, I am so darn excited that I want to just start riding now and not stop until I get there. But I suppose patience has it's place in all things, so I will pace myself!</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">It is also exciting to think of some things coming to an end. For example, yesterday was my last <i>unbelievably </i>difficult day of the trip. Unfortunately, it was also the most beautiful and nostalgic ride of the trip, through wonderful, mountainous, Japanese highlands. It was hard to enjoy the scenery while huffing and puffing up 20 MILES of climbing. That's right, ladies and gents, 20 MILES of non-stop, uphill climbing. The bright side? On the other side of the mountain, it was almost 20 miles of pure downhill!</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Again, though I shouldn't really be complaining, because being here in the north of Japan, and especially in the mountains reminds me of my lovely old hometown in Colorado. Seeing aspen trees and feeling cold mountain air breeze by my face as I flew down the mountain was definitely getting me feeling a bit homesick for much of the ride. Bright side alert: now that my goal is physically within my reach (and the terrain should be relatively easy), I get to enjoy the last few days of this incredible experience without a care in the world. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">The unfortunate news for my blog followers is I won't have access to a computer for the last few days (my plan ride back to Fukuoka is on September 17th so you can expect something around that time). I'll still have my phone so be sure to be on the lookout for facebook posts. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Well, I'm off to finish my grand adventure! Next time you hear from me, I'll be able to proudly say I have ridden my bike across an entire country! Shazam!!</div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7J1sQBImnp92qcLdyOWBNfoBf-VN3xODWqViPAmdXmUU-Wui1XPAeeedUeleTNHREql-TKZAdcQieQWD60wu_3jfn1CG_Ue985SAbts4D260FjOYzuNsRLNv7CGheFg2PQiUqPvgWjts/s1600/P1010479.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7J1sQBImnp92qcLdyOWBNfoBf-VN3xODWqViPAmdXmUU-Wui1XPAeeedUeleTNHREql-TKZAdcQieQWD60wu_3jfn1CG_Ue985SAbts4D260FjOYzuNsRLNv7CGheFg2PQiUqPvgWjts/s320/P1010479.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In a few short days, I'll be proudly standing here!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Dylanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13266743677117674617noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7709094926279783927.post-44513821514749036382011-09-07T00:08:00.000-07:002011-09-07T00:16:48.452-07:00The 10 Day Home Stretch!I find that the closer I get to finishing this whole adventure, the less I believe it is actually happening. I suppose there are enough things to keep me busy during the day, that I don't have much time to think about where I have been <i>or</i> where I am going. According to some random guys math on a bike forum I was just looking at, there are about 280 pedal strokes for every mile traveled. That means I have successfully made about 440,000 circles with my feet so far. A lot can happen during so much geometry practice and it's tough to keep track of it all!<br />
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I must say, though, that I am a bit happy to be done with Honshu. Much of my trip was punctuated by small victories/accomplishments that made the distance easier to contemplate, but from Himeji all the way to Aomori, it was just a monstrous 950 mile trek! Oh, and the roads were narrow and rainy. But everything else was amazing. I am not sure if touring by bicycle just adds an extra spice to everything you do and everyone you meet, but it seems like the nicest people on the planet, Japanese and foreigner alike, live in Japan.<br />
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While taking an impromptu rest day in Hachinohe, I had the most wonderfully nostalgic time with my couch surfing English buddy Joe. Hachinohe is not a particularly large city, though it does have a bit to offer in terms of things to do and places to see. Though Joe had a bit of a knee injury to contend with, and work the next morning, we decided to venture out to some street-side bars and see where the night would take us. Probably not for Joe, but for me the night was headed straight for good old fashioned American and Japanese nostalgia.<br />
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I should first explain that one of the few things that I truly miss from America (aside from friends and family, of course) is cheese. Japan has some cheeses, though it is usually something less flavorful like mozzarella or processed beyond the category of cheese. Furthermore, any other cheeses are just too expensive to be an option. This is where cheese senbei comes in. Traditionally, I believe senbei referred only to a rice cracker of some sort. In modern times, though, almost anything that is relatively flat and about the size of a sand dollar can be called senbei, whether it's fish, seaweed, candy, bone (yes, bone) and others. That night I was able to partake in the joys of a cheese senbei. Basically, this senbei was just some fried cheese with more cheese melted on top of it. A heart stopping dish, both medically and emotionally.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwCQlbNerC_jgA1_bkD1hzXafkU7eGO4VpfnABOUc6XrXCDWnZoHqXuB4atoHY672iJl1LUvGjZd8lOtUdxL7iZaBVu4VJ57s0eHJQ4ZcukX9LkUnT4sZFtM8Qh6MQao1rJU2uZIIMgao/s1600/crispy-cheese-senbei_main_l.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwCQlbNerC_jgA1_bkD1hzXafkU7eGO4VpfnABOUc6XrXCDWnZoHqXuB4atoHY672iJl1LUvGjZd8lOtUdxL7iZaBVu4VJ57s0eHJQ4ZcukX9LkUnT4sZFtM8Qh6MQao1rJU2uZIIMgao/s320/crispy-cheese-senbei_main_l.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It was too dark for a good picture, so imagine this with <i>even more cheese!</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div>After that nice delicacy, we walked out in search of a nice outdoor pub. We walked along a street that was literally lined with small lean-to shacks that housed tiny kitchens and could seat about 8 people each, which had a wonderfully summery feel to it. The place we finally settled on had a man from Miyazaki prefecture (southern Japan) that we were able to talk to. After I told him that I had come from an area near Miyazaki and that I very dearly missed Shochu (basically rice vodka), he insisted that we drink some together. I am not sure if I actually missed Shochu, but since 6 of the 8 months I have been here have included drinking Shochu exclusively, you eventually build up a taste for it. For the record, and those that know me well know this, I truly hardly ever drank in America...but if you plan to come to Japan and make friends with Japanese businessmen, well let me assure you that your main source of hydration will usually have some hard liquor in it.</div><div><br />
</div><div>At any rate, it was an absolutely wonderful night, and a further testament to the wonders of couch surfing and the kindness of Englishmen.</div><div><br />
</div><div>I have finally been able to make a Google map that doesn't look awful, though it is not yet annotated with my nightly stays, but I will do that when I get the time. At the very least, it is a true representation of almost the <i>exact</i> route that I have taken, as well as the exact route that I have left. So I start the countdown to Cape Soya right here and right now! T-minus 9 days until I have successfully ridden across this crazy, interesting country! Estimated date of completion: Friday, September 16th<br />
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<iframe frameborder="0" height="350" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://maps.google.com/maps/ms?msa=0&msid=213737482397987020913.0004ac53f685f1834ff21&ie=UTF8&vpsrc=0&ll=38.272689,136.318359&spn=12.06657,18.676758&z=5&output=embed" width="425"></iframe><br />
<small>View <a href="http://maps.google.com/maps/ms?msa=0&msid=213737482397987020913.0004ac53f685f1834ff21&ie=UTF8&vpsrc=0&ll=38.272689,136.318359&spn=12.06657,18.676758&z=5&source=embed" style="color: blue; text-align: left;">Japan Travels</a> in a larger map</small></div>Dylanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13266743677117674617noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7709094926279783927.post-26733631504646162142011-09-06T10:28:00.000-07:002012-04-05T18:34:08.266-07:00Wrap it Up like a Present!Hello, everyone! It has indeed been a VERY long time since my last post and quite a bit has happened since Sept. 12. However, I wont spend too much time apologizing for my absence...as there is nothing I can do about it now. Except, of course, try my damnedest to finish with a little style.<br />
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Looking back across the past few months, I cant tell you how many things I would do just a bit differently if I had the opportunity. At the same time, I wouldn't really change a single thing, because if I had gone through this whole adventure and done everything perfectly, then it wouldn't have been much of an adventure! At the outset of my blog, I had these wild hopes that I could take a few days worth of travel and condense them into a sort of illustrative, thoughtful blog post that would encapsulate the true feeling of being on the road. I do not think such a feat is impossible. However, attempting to do so <i>while on the road</i> turned out to be impossible (for me). As such, I must confess that a day-by-day chronology is, in fact, the best way to recount a trip like mine.<br />
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Therefore, from here on out, the rest of my posts will be daily musings and anecdotes. My goal, after all, was to portray, for anyone reading, the feelings, trials and tribulations of someone embarking on a quest greater than themselves. It follows naturally that if you would like to give someone a daily sense of things, you must provide a daily account of events!<br />
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I haven't yet organized my pictures, so I will be doing that today so in my next post you may experience the full grandeur of a day in the life of a bike tourist (embarrassingly the first full day account yet provided!).Dylanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13266743677117674617noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7709094926279783927.post-17520180398573566852011-09-05T17:14:00.000-07:002011-09-05T17:14:30.994-07:00All but my spirits have been dampened, Typhoon TalasI'll give it to ya straight, ladies and gents, there has been a lotta rain and bad weather. That doesn't really effect my spirits, but it has drastically limited the amount of pictures I am able to take, so I am just apologizing if this post is a little light in the visual stimulation area.<br />
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In other news, I have just been killing it on the road, for some reason. A good friend once told me that it is during our rest days that we become stronger. Perhaps this is true, because I have been riding like a madman, bagging three 80+ mile days in a row (82, 90 and 94 to be exact). I have been quite worried about some burgeoning pains in my knees, but apparently riding these long days hasn't troubled them too much, so I'll assume everything is just fine down there.<br />
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I must say that, since there is a fundraising aspect to this whole journey (even though I know I scarcely speak of it), I was surprised to actual witness the character of the devastation that was caused by the earthquake and tsunami. Essentially, I passed through all of the affected areas in a mere two days of riding and, frankly, didn't see too much damage. This is, of course, because my route kept me on the inland side and most structural damage along my path had already been repaired. Though this initially gave me the "Everything is Ok, no fundraising needed" impression, I quickly learned that along the coastline of Japan, there is still much work to be done, and many lives to be rebuilt.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bGWrij9i3u4/TmR4enrSyNI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/hvIFZBjtT-M/s1600/2011-08-14+14.32.49.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bGWrij9i3u4/TmR4enrSyNI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/hvIFZBjtT-M/s320/2011-08-14+14.32.49.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">As long as there are cars on top of 3 story buildings 300 feet from the shoreline, there is work to be done</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div>Almost everyone I talked to knew many people who lost everything in the tsunami, and certainly everyone was effected by it. Unfortunately I was not able to spend as much time as I liked in the affected areas, but the best thing I can do is continue riding, blogging and hoping for more donations!<br />
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Also, if that isn't enough, Japan has recently been getting rocked by a typhoon recently, going by the name of Talas. Cool name, but not such a cool meteorological formation. I feel bad saying this, but in the midst of the unfortunate experience that a typhoon creates for many people...for a cyclist that is a bit out of it's path, typhoons can create some monster tail winds! To provide some perspective, I usually am going at about 20 km/hr each day. When it's almost totally flat, with no wind, I can bump this up to about 22 km/hr. However, with my good buddy Talas at my back, even with some tough mountains in my way I managed to pull almost 24 km/hr with 7 hrs in the saddle. Mind you, that's 7 hrs <i>in the saddle</i>, not travel time. Such an awesome day, and it was right in the middle of this beast (I am the red circle)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0iaD8DO4qfU/TmR86SgApRI/AAAAAAAAAUc/0e_Ph_DfEmo/s1600/0022190dec450fcbfd4c2a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="252" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0iaD8DO4qfU/TmR86SgApRI/AAAAAAAAAUc/0e_Ph_DfEmo/s320/0022190dec450fcbfd4c2a.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We had some good times, Talas...but that was really lame what you did to southern Japan.</td></tr>
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</div>Dylanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13266743677117674617noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7709094926279783927.post-65052340630703659032011-09-01T07:37:00.000-07:002011-09-01T07:37:11.654-07:00The end is in sight...it's just really far away<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Hey hey hey, I'm back again to report the latest on this wonderful journey through Japan. I am not sure if this leg of the trip has been less eventful, or that the general novelty and awe of my everyday experience is just starting to become more comfortable and familiar. In either case, I'll do my best to capture the ups and downs, both physical and figurative, of the last few days.<div><br />
</div><div>When I began riding, thinking about the end of the trip was a very difficult and possibly dangerous thing to do. It can be dangerous because some might find the thought of riding a bike almost <i>every single day</i> for a solid two months to be quite depressing. Therefore, it is better to just think of every day as it's own private adventure, independent of any broader goal. That kind of thinking has brought me cleanly through a solid 1,400 miles of riding, which I am quite proud of. However, now that I better know my physical limits and have gotten much better at planning my route, this knowledge has come with a sort of curse. I am now able to decide the exact day that I will finish this amazing journey. As exciting as that is, having every day planned out ahead of time removes some of the precious flexibility that has made this trip so amazing. Before I would just ride up until a certain distance and then stop whenever I felt like it. Now, I will need to reach certain cities by certain days if I hope to reach my goal in time, no matter what I feel like in the morning or how the weather is. This may seem like somewhat of a bleak outlook to have as I enter the final leg of my journey, but with it has come a wonderful realization that I hope to take with me into wherever life takes me next.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Though I still have 800 miles to ride, there is absolutely no way I will ever quit until I reach my goal. Such deadpan certainty came to me mostly in the absence of any good reason to quit. Granted if I receive some horrible injury, or my bike is stolen, it would be quite tough to continue, but other than that there is absolutely nothing that I can think of that will stop me from finishing what I have started. This, to me, is a good thing to learn about oneself; the certain knowledge that you know you've got what it takes to finish some grandiose plan that you started without knowing the outcome, is something I hope to carry with me always. I am positive that this is easier said than done...but I'll give it my best!</div><div><br />
</div><div>On to some stories! I don't mean to talk so much about sleeping and accommodations, but they are such a large part of a bike trip, when you think about it. I spend most of my days riding, eating and sleeping, and sometimes there just isn't much else to talk about. Luckily, the world of the Japanese internet cafe is pretty interesting to me, so let me digress on them for a moment.</div><div><br />
</div><div>The Japanese internet cafe is a mostly cheap place that is an ocean of cubicles, free drinks and an occasional shower room. After certain times, usually 8 or 10 p.m., they have good deals on 7 to 12 hour packages for people who either want to play video games all night, drunken business men who do what drunken businessmen do and bicycle tourists like me! What's more, they have a variety of room types, some of which are obviously suited to those who would like to get a little shut eye during their stay.</div><div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-keg9VzI_KGo/Tl9_3nJ-P6I/AAAAAAAAATw/6uchevg1Eyg/s1600/DSCN1622.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-keg9VzI_KGo/Tl9_3nJ-P6I/AAAAAAAAATw/6uchevg1Eyg/s320/DSCN1622.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They don't much like people taking pictures, but here's the ocean of cubicles</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-89uoXG6ysYE/Tl9_4VwwJ1I/AAAAAAAAAT4/bhwq1Pwn_vI/s1600/DSCN1623.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-89uoXG6ysYE/Tl9_4VwwJ1I/AAAAAAAAAT4/bhwq1Pwn_vI/s320/DSCN1623.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here's my space, all tucked in nice and cozy like!</td></tr>
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<div>The other thing I love about net cafes is their personality. The inside almost always looks the same, though the music differed strongly, but the outside is always good for a laugh, or in some cases a worldview.</div><div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NtpOIEyCXHg/Tl9_y8i2L2I/AAAAAAAAATg/V-mNrwQ1lpc/s1600/DSCN1610.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NtpOIEyCXHg/Tl9_y8i2L2I/AAAAAAAAATg/V-mNrwQ1lpc/s320/DSCN1610.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Love, peace, music, people and Sonic the hedgehog. Is there anything else, I mean really?</td></tr>
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<div>As I mentioned above, I have gotten quite a bit more skilled at finding more pleasant routes to take during my daily ride. To be perfectly honest, that skill only involves looking at the highway, and picking a road that is relatively parallel to it (I know, I'm a genius). Sometimes these roads can be quite hilly, but the rewards are more than worth the effort.</div><div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xiso7FH8vZY/Tl9_1MxnQsI/AAAAAAAAATk/79AFQyBTX6o/s1600/DSCN1616.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xiso7FH8vZY/Tl9_1MxnQsI/AAAAAAAAATk/79AFQyBTX6o/s320/DSCN1616.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here's a canyon and the moron riding through it</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1pvtHm-2Its/Tl9_2tZJU8I/AAAAAAAAAT8/_wE6PbObG70/s1600/DSCN1619.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1pvtHm-2Its/Tl9_2tZJU8I/AAAAAAAAAT8/_wE6PbObG70/s320/DSCN1619.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Man made, but I thought it was a really neat waterfall</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WCVg1ZXLy7E/Tl9_f74CnaI/AAAAAAAAATA/b9hclQODDcw/s1600/DSCN1573.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WCVg1ZXLy7E/Tl9_f74CnaI/AAAAAAAAATA/b9hclQODDcw/s320/DSCN1573.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After taking a really long and frustrating detour, I came to this place. Japan can be a real jerk sometimes, but she usually makes it up to you</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h6JdJHn_9wg/Tl9_u1g3j_I/AAAAAAAAATU/rJfsMyJVjq4/s1600/DSCN1604.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h6JdJHn_9wg/Tl9_u1g3j_I/AAAAAAAAATU/rJfsMyJVjq4/s320/DSCN1604.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not a country road, but I couldn't pass up the chance to show off Japan's willingness to mix cultural icons!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Lastly, I wanted to again address how interesting the concept of timing is on a bike trip. Though you are moving quite slowly through a country, everything happens so fast. For example, during a short, 1 hour period my golden chance to see Mount Fuji came and passed. Due to some clouds, the darn thing was SO close, but far enough way that I could only see the outline. So here I present what could have been one of the coolest pics of the trip, but is a bit poorly lit and is missing one of Japan's most important icons.<div><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-S_pRqH_ySgg/TlpbyLvCopI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/jTQJ5E46MOE/s1600/DSCN1582.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-S_pRqH_ySgg/TlpbyLvCopI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/jTQJ5E46MOE/s320/DSCN1582.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">See the clouds moving over the top of that gorgeous beast!?</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bifrWNFRJ9I/Tlpby2syMVI/AAAAAAAAARI/HphlzV6tAkg/s1600/DSCN1584.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bifrWNFRJ9I/Tlpby2syMVI/AAAAAAAAARI/HphlzV6tAkg/s320/DSCN1584.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Slightly better. No bike though</td></tr>
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<div>My cell phone has been a bit on the fritz lately, so I will really try my best to write blog posts absolutely every chance I get, since writing from my phone is no longer an option. In other news, I can say with a fair amount of confidence that I will reach the end of my trip on September 16th, 2011 where I will proudly stand on the northernmost tip of Japan and hopefully celebrate in some ridiculous, and not yet decided way!<br />
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<div> </div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Dylanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13266743677117674617noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7709094926279783927.post-62861862488111698582011-08-28T09:23:00.000-07:002011-08-28T09:23:27.833-07:00Wisdom gained and a week in review<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Watch out, ladies and gents, knowledge bombs are coming your way. Not really, but I think I will do my best to share something I have learned and try even harder to avoid sounding like a motivational speaker. My biggest realization along this whole trip has come through a very simple change in perspective.<br />
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Understandably, when I was planning this trip, there were so many things that I was nervous about. Particularly, how I would handle disasters, big or small. Bad things happening are a guarantee on a bike tour, but you never know what those things are going to be, or when they will come up. The really tricky part, as far as life skills are concerned, isn't how you fix the problem, it's how you react when you realize there is a problem. Early on, I would be a bit cranky or frustrated at most things that came up. Flat tires, unexpected hill climbs (the worst!) and any number of small things that came up would just make me cranky for an hour or two. Quite early on, though, I had my big realization, and here it is (ready?).<br />
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Life is a lot like a bike.<br />
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How does that taste? Cheesy? Good, let's continue, then. Even though there are many things that can break, rust, wear down and fall apart on a bicycle, it actually takes very little to just keep the damn thing moving and keep on touring. Flat tire? Pump that shit up and check it with your thumb every hour! Road disappeared? Hoof it until it comes back! No use in spending a single minute being cranky about it, just laugh and move on! I have actually composed a flow chart illustrating the complex decision making process that begins each day after waking up. Please, if you hope to accomplish a bike tour successfully, follow this religiously.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qTDhwRXu_6U/TlpfU-iYACI/AAAAAAAAASQ/Lnb8UE9r31Y/s1600/chart.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qTDhwRXu_6U/TlpfU-iYACI/AAAAAAAAASQ/Lnb8UE9r31Y/s320/chart.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">For a small fee, I can provide an annotated version to further clarify the chart</td></tr>
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<div>But really, though, the simplicity of a bicycle is closely related to life at times. There are lots of things we encounter that are less than pleasant in everyday life, but very few of these things need to have any serious effect on how we feel. Bike touring occurs in a vacuum of travelling and fun, and there are so many positive aspects that it is quite easy to shrug off the negatives, but I will forever try and approach any of life's problems with the ease and comfort with which I have addressed most things on the road so far. Here's a picture from something that came up today. 40 km down a road and the damn thing just ends in gravel with no end in sight. I certainly wasn't back-tracking, so I just hopped off and decided to walk until things were ok again.</div><div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wjNcEqJzW7w/Tlpbv_Mh_EI/AAAAAAAAAQk/DrvO_a0dsGY/s1600/DSCN1595.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wjNcEqJzW7w/Tlpbv_Mh_EI/AAAAAAAAAQk/DrvO_a0dsGY/s320/DSCN1595.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I guess this is the "where did the road go?" pose...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-n5hrXO7rmqo/Tlpbx-iRMUI/AAAAAAAAARY/n3ABB0H7Qp4/s1600/DSCN1578.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-n5hrXO7rmqo/Tlpbx-iRMUI/AAAAAAAAARY/n3ABB0H7Qp4/s320/DSCN1578.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some times you go with the bike, not on top of it.</td></tr>
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<div>Alright, time for a bit of recapping! We left off last time with the wonderful Mr. Yamaguchi saving me, taking me to Shizuoka in his car, and then taking me to meet his friends and eat some home cooked Sri Lankan food.</div><div><br />
</div><div><b><u>August 22: Some irony and "firsts", Numazu</u></b></div><div><b><u><br />
</u></b></div><div>Perpetually worried about my shoes becoming wet, and therefore unbearably stinky, I have recently done my best to keep them dry. However, upon coming to a road that was blocked by a truck, I decided to press on and see why the road was blocked, mostly because there was no other way around. I basically saw this, but with a bit less water.</div><div><br />
</div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yUY5OcP1hEo/TlplEbet1GI/AAAAAAAAASU/opk68SgPpbA/s1600/Daytona+Flood+Tunnel+5-24-09.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yUY5OcP1hEo/TlplEbet1GI/AAAAAAAAASU/opk68SgPpbA/s320/Daytona+Flood+Tunnel+5-24-09.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Quite a bit less water, actually</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div><div>I estimated that the water wouldn't really clear the path of my pedals, so I decided to just ride right through it. Deceptively, the water came up to my upper calves and I couldn't help but laugh at the fact that I spend the whole day trying to keep my shoes dry...and they became wetter than they have ever been.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Also, I had my first crash! It was raining all day, and while coming down a metal ramp, the front tire just slipped a different direction and everything came tumbling down. Quite anti-climactic, but I suppose that is how I would like my crashes to be.</div><div><br />
</div><div><b><u>August 24, 25: Tokyo at last!</u></b></div><div><br />
</div><div>In theory, big cities are awesome destinations to visit. There is a lot of truth to that, but I have learned that big cities suck while on a bike tour. They suck a lot. What I mean is that the riding is just awful. It is slow, filled with cars and hot. BUT, and this is a big but, they are also filled with the nicest people you'll ever meet, and some rare chances.<br />
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Three examples. First, a friend of Kawasaki san wanted to meet me, so we met up, had some awesome food and chatted about as much as we could, with whatever Japanese I could muster. The friend, Abe san, rode a train for an hour just to buy me some dinner!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vrtdv8FthII/Tlpou_4iG_I/AAAAAAAAASw/nkqFvnDd1Dc/s1600/20110824203804.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vrtdv8FthII/Tlpou_4iG_I/AAAAAAAAASw/nkqFvnDd1Dc/s320/20110824203804.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Abe san on the right, and our waiter on the left.</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div><div>Second, my host for the time was a man by the name of Christopher Lindstrom. This guy has got stuff figured out! An ex-peace corps man, who has been to more countries and places than I can remember and is currently on a International Rotary Club world peace scholarship to get his master's degree in Japan. How awesome is that? Furthermore, he was just the nicest and most generous host in the world. Having only been in Japan for 2 weeks prior to my coming, his kindness among the stress of moving to a new country was truly inspiring.</div><div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iPvHbzeFvLw/Tlpb0tJsWiI/AAAAAAAAARo/XM2GlVKV8VY/s1600/DSCN1588.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iPvHbzeFvLw/Tlpb0tJsWiI/AAAAAAAAARo/XM2GlVKV8VY/s320/DSCN1588.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me and my homie Chris</td></tr>
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<div>Also, of my friends from America that I have met in Japan, I am surprised that 40% of them have been named Matt. So, if there are any other Matt's that are looking to reconnect with me, apparently now is the time to do it. Anyways, the Matt that I met in Tokyo I knew from high school and, even though we hadn't seen each other in 6 years, the chance to meet up was too rare to pass up. Apparently a little Japanese goes a long way, because we ended up having a great time after wandering into a random Izakaya (Japanese style bar) and eating some raw horse and Japanese desserts!</div><div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dSQ2wrPA-5A/Tlpn_5uTkpI/AAAAAAAAASc/mhtgHVbyCDI/s1600/processed_510.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dSQ2wrPA-5A/Tlpn_5uTkpI/AAAAAAAAASc/mhtgHVbyCDI/s320/processed_510.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A big, happy family</td></tr>
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<div><b><u>August 28: Long rides and funny things, Koriyama</u></b></div><div><br />
</div><div>I am not sure if this day's ride just had me feeling slap happy, or Japan is just a funny place when you're looking for laughs, but this day's story is best told through pictures.</div><div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fXsk9x5azgc/TlGx8xT5uXI/AAAAAAAAAPE/x1Qcu2DcOeA/s1600/DSCN1566.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fXsk9x5azgc/TlGx8xT5uXI/AAAAAAAAAPE/x1Qcu2DcOeA/s320/DSCN1566.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What a strange and wonderful place this must be</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PvVr018gFZI/TlpbzZx9qAI/AAAAAAAAARE/b5Rdz64BK7w/s1600/DSCN1585.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PvVr018gFZI/TlpbzZx9qAI/AAAAAAAAARE/b5Rdz64BK7w/s320/DSCN1585.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Only one preposition away from making me giggle to death</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eMXyw-7dyho/TlpcK__hxcI/AAAAAAAAARw/PBaWkVtD79Q/s1600/DSCN1586.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eMXyw-7dyho/TlpcK__hxcI/AAAAAAAAARw/PBaWkVtD79Q/s320/DSCN1586.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No big deal it's just Ronald McDon...oh my god is that a butcher's knife?</td></tr>
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</div></div></div></div></div>Dylanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13266743677117674617noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7709094926279783927.post-21912588854305726282011-08-26T18:17:00.000-07:002011-08-26T18:25:28.214-07:00Halfway There?<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Optima;">There a few thing one can do in a bathroom. There's number 1. Then there's number 2. I am not sure how the numbering works after that, nor am I sure that writing a blog is even enumerated, but here I am anyways, writing to my adoring fan(s) from my accomodations for the night.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Optima;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-K-cZec5uEzs/TkqVM7fbssI/AAAAAAAAAK4/FlfjIUC0n6E/s1600/Bathroom+nap.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-K-cZec5uEzs/TkqVM7fbssI/AAAAAAAAAK4/FlfjIUC0n6E/s320/Bathroom+nap.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You can't beat the price, or the bank vault of a door!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Optima;">I stated from the very outset that I wanted anyone reading this to really get a sense of my experience, and I must say this is a pretty interesting experience. However, I have had the good fortune to stay with kind friends, and in warm beds for 15 of the last 17 days (thanks to my amazing sister and couch surfing), so one night in the loo isn't going to ruffle my feathers too much. </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Optima;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Optima;">In other news, it looks like I actually AM riding across this country. I still find it hard to believe, but the halfway point has already come and gone, just a bit before Tokyo. Furthermore, of the $2,050 I would like to raise, we have already reached $960! Thank you so much to everyone who has donated already, and I assure you that proper thank you's are coming when I am off the bike and have a bit more time on my hands.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Optima;"><br />
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</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Optima;">Lastly (for now), I have recently noticed that 40 and 50 mile days are beginning to feel like pushovers, so I have decided to try and average about 80 km (60 miles?) for the rest of the trip. At that rate, with only a few rest days, I can reach my goal in a little over 20 days. How nuts is that?! My next post will be some more daily recaps, I just wanted to take a moment to connect from the bathroom :)</span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKXc2B4X_Yf6SGQXaDh521x_evYdL0KuC3aubaLIeaQOTNMdI15izbr757DupnNXT5GRv4hzvzfzgl_B835QC6XaBLCm8WQ2XW-PyZr4HT060jj1jmB86IRqCvRbgIGMIjhJEbOgBv-b0/s1600/20110826215720.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKXc2B4X_Yf6SGQXaDh521x_evYdL0KuC3aubaLIeaQOTNMdI15izbr757DupnNXT5GRv4hzvzfzgl_B835QC6XaBLCm8WQ2XW-PyZr4HT060jj1jmB86IRqCvRbgIGMIjhJEbOgBv-b0/s320/20110826215720.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just brushing my teeth, in a bathroom, no big deal</td></tr>
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</span></div>Dylanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13266743677117674617noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7709094926279783927.post-16451542494220124462011-08-21T20:08:00.000-07:002011-08-21T20:08:46.901-07:00All this luck is makin' me nervousSo I will start this off by saying that the past few days have just been absolutely...rainy. I actually don't mind the rain that much, because really it is just like taking a shower all day. However, in this shower the water has dirt in it. Also, there are a lot of cars driving through the shower, quickly, and very close to your body. Other than that, basically the same experience.<br />
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Seriously, though, my only real concern with the rain is that it is hard to dry my shoes out quickly enough to ride again the next day, and I would like to avoid becoming a human stink-bomb at least for another few weeks. If anyone has any suggestions/tricks to prevent shoe problems, lay 'em on me in the comments section!<br />
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Onto the real meat of the story. I think that the overall tone of this trip so far has been one of unbelievable luck. I would like to think that I am just really good at being optimistic and finding the silver lining...but I just don't think that is the case. Here are two of the most recent examples:<br />
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From where we left off last, I was on my way to Nagoya. Before I get into that, though, I must tell everyone about my "coach" for this trip. Since I had no idea what I was doing when I started, through the power of the internet I sought out those who could enlighten me. Among those I found was a complete badass of a Canadian, Corey, who did a <a href="http://www.crazyguyonabike.com/doc/?o=1r4vFZo&doc_id=6253&v=VX">monster bike ride</a> through Japan in 2009. Since contacting him, we have emailed frequently and he has given me countless bits of advice and routing help that have saved me time, energy and have helped make my travels even more wonderful!<br />
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At his recommendation, I stopped at a bike shop in Gifu that he had touted as one of the best in Japan. As it turns out, the bike shop IS the best in Japan, as far as I am concerned. I have been riding on crappy tires since starting the trip, and I was looking for some good replacements. Not only did I get replacements, but I also got half-dozen small adjustments on the bike, some tea and an awesome T-shirt...all for <i>free</i>. Maybe, as a reader, you can understand why all this luck is making me nervous.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-v6XgDKc3fao/TlGx9PolXCI/AAAAAAAAAPM/nItoLLZmBlk/s1600/DSCN1567.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-v6XgDKc3fao/TlGx9PolXCI/AAAAAAAAAPM/nItoLLZmBlk/s320/DSCN1567.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me and Ken from Kurosawa Bikes in Gifu!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oC4o3IXgfyU/TlGycGdA5FI/AAAAAAAAAP4/LsyV6RdXR0E/s1600/Sep_7_-_Biwa_Ko__6_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oC4o3IXgfyU/TlGycGdA5FI/AAAAAAAAAP4/LsyV6RdXR0E/s320/Sep_7_-_Biwa_Ko__6_.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Following in the footsteps of giants. The same Ken, but picture taken from Corey's blog .</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div><br />
The next two days went by pretty quickly. I stayed in Nagoya with David Fox, another native of Colorado, which obviously means he was a cool guy to hang out with. I also decided to take an impromptu rest day, so I could do absolutley nothing in the hopes that my knee, which has been bothering me, would feel better. Best decision ever, I felt like a rock star the next day as I set off for Hamamatsu, the longest ride of the trip at 126 km.<br />
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The morning after arriving in Hamamatsu began wonderfully, with a delicious, authentic Hong Kong breakfast. I was <a href="http://www.couchsurfing.org/">couch surfing</a> with a girl from Hong Kong in Hamamatsu, which was already pretty rare because single girls living in apartments hardly ever accept requests from single travelling guys. However, it turns out that Nikita (my host) was a blue belt in Brazilian Jiu Jitsu and probably could have broken my arms and legs without much trouble, if a problem should arise. The day was cloudy, and rain was sure to come, but I certainly wont be able to get to the north of Japan by <i>not</i> riding my bike, so I set off with 60 miles to cover.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_kyMKlfy71rAMAfBreJhYLOJb7daa4Lws4fZcAXA4QyG0PFjhHvMmF_lh96W71dqZ2C5tI5Vw0OTjD34qr54MiXCBL_hEVCOLKPkMMmzvPBBZFk61Am8poPqyrJxFvCDohA0tAR3Oq1k/s1600/toast.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_kyMKlfy71rAMAfBreJhYLOJb7daa4Lws4fZcAXA4QyG0PFjhHvMmF_lh96W71dqZ2C5tI5Vw0OTjD34qr54MiXCBL_hEVCOLKPkMMmzvPBBZFk61Am8poPqyrJxFvCDohA0tAR3Oq1k/s320/toast.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hong Kong toast! Hmmm...toast, peanut butter and I'll let you decide the rest</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-29P1297SNbE/TlGx-E7_fOI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/gqteP6iod3s/s1600/DSCN1569.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-29P1297SNbE/TlGx-E7_fOI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/gqteP6iod3s/s320/DSCN1569.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me and Nikita. Sorry for the angling, picture was taken from the seat of a vespa.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div><br />
The rest of the day was nothing but rain and headwinds, which would be pretty depressing for some. However, I tried my best to cope by improvising songs to capture my mood, plan my future and think about what to write about in the blog. Unfortunately, I must have been terribly good at the first part, because I had my own damn songs stuck in my head for most of the day and couldn't think about very much else.<div><br />
</div><div>Chugging through the day, the hours passing, legs pedaling, it was a gloomy, rainy day but at least I had a rhythm going. I began seeing 2 things that are good to note for cycle tourists. The first thing was a series of <i>enormous</i> mountains between me and my goal. The second thing was a series of signs indicating an upcoming tunnel. I thought to myself "Man, I hate tunnels...but at this point in the day, I probably hate climbing mountains even more, so I'll take the tunnel." Unfortunately, sometimes these choices aren't left to us, and as I approached the monster, 3.2 km tunnel I saw a big sign saying bikes were not allowed. Dejected, soaking wet, I pulled off to the side of the road at 5:15 p.m. and surveyed my options.</div><div><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBiyVCCI7lr8do2Y0BcPXwwC06ba_QJ4myCewUO54zg8caDrmmQ3dpq6G29YgRjrijGNKVXriaNUKYVKTOc8Yiug_Q3-ER3YwzomJ1A4mh9R-2TSPpao5F9AElQvV6SxEDJq2alDJw0x4/s1600/20110804151710.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBiyVCCI7lr8do2Y0BcPXwwC06ba_QJ4myCewUO54zg8caDrmmQ3dpq6G29YgRjrijGNKVXriaNUKYVKTOc8Yiug_Q3-ER3YwzomJ1A4mh9R-2TSPpao5F9AElQvV6SxEDJq2alDJw0x4/s320/20110804151710.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not yesterdays tunnel...but maybe you can get a feel for it</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div>Basically, back tracking 5 kilometers and then taking a mountain road over the previously mentioned peaks was my only entrance into Shizuoka, my goal for the day. However, since it was too late for such an endeavor, I decided to find a different place to sleep and call my host for the day and tell him that I couldn't make it. I made my call to Mr. Eva Yamaguchi and told him that I foolishly came to a tunnel that I couldn't use and that I wouldn't make it into Shizuoka that day. To my surprise, he insisted on <i>driving all the way from Shizuoka</i> to pick up myself and my bike and take the sodden pair into the city. Entirely too tired and surprised to refuse, I agreed and he came to pick the bike and I up!</div><div><br />
</div><div>The story doesn't stop there, though. Mr. Yamaguchi had planned for my coming by talking to a few of his friends, a Sri Lankan guy named Namal and his Chinese girlfriend Yanan. Namal thought it would be great to cook some Sri Lankan food for everyone and eat it over at his apartment, so that was what we did. What followed was one of the most delicious meals with some of the nicest people I have met on my trip. Sadly, in my tired haze, I forgot to bring a camera to Namal's, so we must stay friends only on Facebook and in memory (until I visit Sri Lanka, of course!).</div><div><br />
</div><div>My expectation for Sunday, August 21st: sleeping somewhere random, in the rain, waiting anxiously to climb a mountain in the morning. Reality: warm shower, dinner with friends and an unforgettable night.</div><div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WTa3LfCXv5A/TlGx-rmCMtI/AAAAAAAAAPs/5u4GpHBW4Bc/s1600/DSCN1570.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WTa3LfCXv5A/TlGx-rmCMtI/AAAAAAAAAPs/5u4GpHBW4Bc/s320/DSCN1570.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me and the man himself, Eva Yamaguchi!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div><br />
</div></div>Dylanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13266743677117674617noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7709094926279783927.post-3042086597208925412011-08-17T07:51:00.000-07:002011-08-17T12:31:09.388-07:00Anecdotes and Aphorisms, the Trip Thus Far<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Holy cow, it has been WAY to long since my last post. Rather than spend a lot of time apologizing, I will instead opt for a really kickass post (hopefully).<br />
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Quite uncharacteristically, I have actually been sticking to a sort of journal while on this trip. I've never been one for writing a journal at length so I keep it simple by writing only 3 or 4 memories, events, thoughts from every single day of my trip. Whatever I feel was most important from the day, I'll jot down a quick note to remember it by.<br />
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In one of the other posts, I followed a sort of anecdotal or aphoristic template for writing and I quite liked it, so I believe I will take that method for a spin once more! What follows will be short stories or thoughts that I think were the most pertinent.<br />
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<b><u>August 3: Mini Celebrity in Asa</u></b><br />
Always the life-saver, Kawasaki-san has the occasional friend that lives along my route. Such was the case in the small town of Asa, where I was to meet Mr. Sogawa, the head honcho of the area newspaper. As I came riding up to the station, a few men in white shirts wielding big cameras started taking pictures down the street in my general direction. Of course, I looked behind me to find out what in the world was so interesting, but as I rode closer, I found out that apparently I was the subject! The photographers worked for the Yamaguchi prefecture's Yomiuri Shinbun and were there with Mr. Sogawa. They took some pictures, we had some drinks and then conducted my 2nd interview with a national newspaper (the same one, and of course)!<br />
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<b><u>August 4: Meet and Greet in Shunan</u></b><br />
As I headed to Shunan city, apparently still within reach of Kawasaki-san's never ending network of friends, I was told this time to meet a Mr. Tsukimoto, again the head honcho of the area newspaper distribution. Finding the place to meet him was easy...since it was a bright green building with Tsukimoto written on it. I feel like it is a rare opportunity to meet someone with their own building, so of course I forced him to take an awkwardly angled picture with me!<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKvG0QHXXfMZh4vOAA-yXabqmjeh0Czm1kAWzhCCRFSOBXBb9bf4qvhdyKr23cNUZUeEZcQ9sdDtXkC3PLa4Ax0qGjyNYhP1TIW_NoVHJvCbfJ9B_gqiKpGRj-Qyt9-5cRvc6EjvT4jqc/s1600/20110804174156.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKvG0QHXXfMZh4vOAA-yXabqmjeh0Czm1kAWzhCCRFSOBXBb9bf4qvhdyKr23cNUZUeEZcQ9sdDtXkC3PLa4Ax0qGjyNYhP1TIW_NoVHJvCbfJ9B_gqiKpGRj-Qyt9-5cRvc6EjvT4jqc/s1600/20110804174156.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mr. Tsukimoto...and his building!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><b><u><br />
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<b><u>August 5: Hard work pays off in Miyajima</u></b><br />
Japan is absolutely full of mountains. The damn things are honestly and unavoidably <i>everywhere</i>. However, once you reach the top of them, there are always surprises to be had. Sometimes you get a rip-roaring 60 km/hr (almost 40 mph) downhill sprint. Sometimes you get a harrowing ride through a tunnel with semi trucks driving close enough to flick your ears...in the dark.<br />
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Other times you find an ancient hideout for Japanese pirates, complete with a beautiful garden, temple and waterfalls. Awesome.<br />
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<b><u></u></b><br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5GzK42V679w/TkqVlaZooaI/AAAAAAAAAMU/3RriuwD_1Kk/s1600/DSCN1335.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5GzK42V679w/TkqVlaZooaI/AAAAAAAAAMU/3RriuwD_1Kk/s200/DSCN1335.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lantern art at the Pirate's roost</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OtedpNIc8D0/TkqVkaJlZBI/AAAAAAAAAMM/q4F7_YItcjI/s1600/DSCN1329.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OtedpNIc8D0/TkqVkaJlZBI/AAAAAAAAAMM/q4F7_YItcjI/s200/DSCN1329.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sorry for the blur...but a really cool restaurant (in an old Pirate's den!)</td></tr>
</tbody></table><b><u><br />
</u></b><br />
<b><u>August 6: Eerie timing, Hiroshima Bound</u></b><br />
I'll be completely honest, until arriving in Miyajima I was not aware of the exact date of the bombing of Hiroshima (or Nagasaki). When I was told the night before about the ceremony to be held in the morning, I made it my goal to wake up early and bust out the 25 km to Hiroshima as fast as possible to make in in time.<br />
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The bomb was dropped at 8:15 a.m. on August 6, 1945. I arrived to the Hiroshima Peace Park at 8:12 a.m. on August 6, 2011, minutes before one of the more surreal moments of my life. Breathing heavy and looking for a place to park my bike, some awfully loud Japanese comes out of the speakers, accompanied by an even louder, single bell toll. <i>Everyone</i>, everywhere around me freezes. I quickly realize this is a moment of silence and do the same. For a solid minute, I am almost certain that everyone in the city didn't move a muscle or make a sound, save for the ringing of the bell in the middle of the park, the Peace Bell. Words cant describe the reverential and respectful aura that everyone had during those moments, and I will certainly never forget it.<br />
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Perhaps not the most appropriate picture, but it is important to get a sense of location! My bike in front of the Atomic Dome.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Qw-UobFxLTU/TkqVN4ourXI/AAAAAAAAALA/1hig0c4HhcY/s1600/biek+and+dome.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Qw-UobFxLTU/TkqVN4ourXI/AAAAAAAAALA/1hig0c4HhcY/s320/biek+and+dome.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The only real remnant of a terrible explosion...and my bike</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div><b><u>August 7: Soul crushing ride to Mihara</u></b></div><div>A product of my poor planning and the general difficulty to predict Japanese terrain, this was far and away the toughest physical activity of my life. I was left only with a few words of advice to give:</div><div><ul><li>In high school geometry, you deal with angles of all sizes, but no one ever tells you that the difference between a 9 degree slope and a 10 degree slope is similar to the difference between stubbing your toe and getting kicked in the face by a Muy Thai fighter...and then spit on.</li>
</ul><div>Silver lining? I found a bus stop with some comfortable, though dusty seats on the top of the mountain.</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-b9H8U8spcxM/TkqVM-2LxoI/AAAAAAAAAK8/EzR651vIKZs/s1600/awesome+mountaintop+bus+stop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-b9H8U8spcxM/TkqVM-2LxoI/AAAAAAAAAK8/EzR651vIKZs/s200/awesome+mountaintop+bus+stop.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Probably seen better days.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div><br />
</div><div><b><u>August 8: Soul healing ride and a soothing 0 hours of sleep, Omishima</u></b></div><div>Japan can really beat you down, but then you get the chance to ride across the Seto Inland sea, a solid 75 km ride with paths designated ONLY for cyclists. I couldn't imagine a better recovery to the previous day's misery. </div><div><br />
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</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-brULDsEZclc/TkqVSSisSvI/AAAAAAAAALs/7u095-UU2EE/s1600/me+and+bigger+bridge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-brULDsEZclc/TkqVSSisSvI/AAAAAAAAALs/7u095-UU2EE/s320/me+and+bigger+bridge.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Really big bridge, and the man that will cross it.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>As the night fell, I cleaned off the days grime at a public bath and then went to a roadside station to stake my claim on a park bench that would be my bed for the night. After some slight preparation (lying down on the park bench), I closed my eyes to sleep. I was charmed almost to tears when an instrumental rendition of Twinkle Twinkle, Little Star played over the station's loudspeakers at 10 p.m. The heat and mosquitoes made it hard to sleep, so I welcomed the song warmly as it crooned above my head again at 11 p.m. As the clock struck 12 a.m. I awoke to the song playing once more, and fell asleep, glad that the final encore had finished. At 1,2,3,4 and 5 a.m. I was ready and willing to wish every single star out of the sky because of their cursed song inspiring sparkles. I hardly slept and woke up early...but waking at dawn does have it's rewards.</div><div><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9UTTzDCJrFU/TkqVMvZoMRI/AAAAAAAAAK0/lO69b7eIOt0/s1600/sunrise.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9UTTzDCJrFU/TkqVMvZoMRI/AAAAAAAAAK0/lO69b7eIOt0/s320/sunrise.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Legit!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><b><u>August 9: Quaint towns and kind teachers found in Saijo</u></b><br />
<div>Honshu, with it's tall mountains and thousands of semi trucks was dust in the wind, as I crossed the final bridge and made my way across <a href="http://www.google.com/imgres?q=shikoku&um=1&hl=en&safe=off&sa=N&biw=1440&bih=809&tbm=isch&tbnid=aafHRNMCGP1kHM:&imgrefurl=http://www.traildino.com/trace/continents-Asia/countries-Japan/trails-Shikoku_Nature_Trail&docid=FQFdW9V1NHmoVM&w=1250&h=850&ei=9cxLTtKoIaqdmQWHleWdCA&zoom=1&iact=hc&vpx=858&vpy=461&dur=18&hovh=185&hovw=272&tx=163&ty=110&page=1&tbnh=138&tbnw=203&start=0&ndsp=27&ved=1t:429,r:18,s:0">Shikoku</a>, the big island just below the eastern tip of Honshu. Quiet roads and rice paddies abound as I took my favorite "Hey! Look where my bike is!" picture:</div><div><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BHN3fZQpu8k/TkqVVrozyrI/AAAAAAAAAME/lLUjJ1z26ss/s1600/one+of+my+fav+scenery+pics.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BHN3fZQpu8k/TkqVVrozyrI/AAAAAAAAAME/lLUjJ1z26ss/s320/one+of+my+fav+scenery+pics.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I am sure this looked better in real life...but hopefully some beauty comes across</td></tr>
</tbody></table>After arriving in town, I saw a few foreigners talking in a parking lot. Since I knew absolutely nothing about the nice little town I had found myself in, I decided to approach them to ask for sightseeing and restaurant suggestions. Caleb, one of the men, had lived in the town for 4 years and was working for the JET Program. He pointed me to an onsen (public bath/hot spring) and told me to give him a call afterwards, where he would show me a great place to eat. Whilst eating and conversing, the ever interesting question of "Where do you sleep?" came up. I had staked out a wonderful bench in a nearby park, and freely told them about it. However, Caleb instead just suggested I take a night tour of the town with him and his friend, play some super Nintendo games and just sleep at his place. I can't say I hesitated, but I can say that I have nothing but the fondest memories of Saijo, Japan!<br />
<div><br />
</div><div><b><u>August 10: So much luck makes me nervous. Kanonji</u></b></div><div>For those that haven't heard of Couch Surfing, go check it out right <a href="http://www.couchsurfing.org/">NOW</a>! It has it's occasional mishaps, but when it's good, it is unbelievable.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Speaking of the mishaps, though, at 8 p.m. the night I arrived in Kanonji I was told that my host for the night would not be able to host me. Unshowered, covered in mosquito bites, I tried to stay positive as I rode aimlessly around town looking for a park to sleep in. What I found happened to be the most populated date spot in all of Kanonji after 11 p.m.! Unfortunately, it was still too hot to sleep, so I made my way to a 24 hr. convenience store to buy some food and bask in the AC. As I was locking up my bike outside the store, another car pulled up, and a few foreigners and a Japanese woman hopped out. Equally surprised to see one another at 12:30 a.m. we made some short conversation and almost immediately after knowing only my name, I was invited into the home of Brent and Maki Betters (wonderful newlywed couple) for a warm shower and comfortable couch to sleep on. Heartbreaking kindness and trust, if you ask me. Unfortunately, due to my foolishness I wasn't able to snag a picture with them...so here are some weird scarecrows I saw on my way out of town.</div><div><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rNH4mpV0KMM/TkqVP3Xq3UI/AAAAAAAAALQ/CEF_Qb4MQh8/s1600/creepy+scarecrow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rNH4mpV0KMM/TkqVP3Xq3UI/AAAAAAAAALQ/CEF_Qb4MQh8/s320/creepy+scarecrow.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They certainly scared me away.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div><b><u>August 11: Like strangers, passing in the dark. Takamatsu</u></b></div><div>I have quickly learned that it is an unspoken code to stop and chat with any other cycling tourists you see while on the road. Conversation comes easily and the camaraderie is instantaneous. It is a really wonderful feeling. However, the likelihood of meeting other tourists can be quite low during the hottest time of the year, especially considering the hundreds of different paths one might choose while on their tour.</div><div><br />
</div><div>It is painful sometimes to understand so well the struggles of others who are alone on the road, but not tell them so!</div><div><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vepPb2C4iGw/TkqVWZrj3AI/AAAAAAAAAMI/c9ldvbAOmjA/s1600/other+touris.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vepPb2C4iGw/TkqVWZrj3AI/AAAAAAAAAMI/c9ldvbAOmjA/s320/other+touris.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Unspoken Code #2: sleep is tough to come by, never interrupt it.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<b><u>August 12: The invisible beauty of Himeji Castle in Himeji</u></b><br />
Perhaps because this was meant to be a short day, I felt especially exhausted while doing it. Knowing that I <i>only</i> had 40 km to ride when normally that number is 70 or so made it much harder to ride through the heat and mountains to reach my goal. That being said, on the toughest days of this trip, there are always great things to look forward to. In this case I was meeting an old high school friend, Matt Davis (some of you might know him, even!). It is an extremely rare and interesting experience to do something so normal, like hang out with old friends, while doing something much less normal, like teaching in Japan or riding a bike across it!<br />
<br />
Also, Himeji's claim to fame in Japan is the castle by the same name. However, in some poorly planned act of restoration, the castle is currently covered by what looks like a makeshift office building, complete with a faint image of the castle which it conceals. What would be a wonderful sight is somewhat lackluster in this presentation, I couldn't even bring myself to get a good picture of it.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy0p8qxwK7JbA3vSfTiD7F8GnxbshMizNzWCDdQ-_o80hDfR-LvcG1vtpj_hIOAOHZamAIqVFo38iKSXpRkJ7dXEoEXBZjktr0HsEnJL_fFfsNT2Kmcw0gDEtAlDJEaLzlQ2rp1EhyS74/s1600/DSCN1500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy0p8qxwK7JbA3vSfTiD7F8GnxbshMizNzWCDdQ-_o80hDfR-LvcG1vtpj_hIOAOHZamAIqVFo38iKSXpRkJ7dXEoEXBZjktr0HsEnJL_fFfsNT2Kmcw0gDEtAlDJEaLzlQ2rp1EhyS74/s320/DSCN1500.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If you look closely, you can see the picture of the castle on that office building</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div><b><u>August 13th: Kobe with Shinpei</u></b></div><div>Sometimes having an experience that feels completely <i>non</i>-foreign is exactly what you need when staying in a foreign country for so long. I must say I never expected to have this experience with a Japanese person, until I met Shinpei. This guy studied in Lawrence, Kansas for a year and learned enough college "dude" English that I actually didn't think he was Japanese, and I told him so. </div><div><br />
</div><div>His family has owned and operated an Izakaya (Japanese-style bar) forever, and he offered to let me eat there for free. Taking the kindness in stride, I agreed, and the feast that followed was a sight to behold! Raw fish that I'd never seen before, my first experience of raw, Kobe beef and even some fried whale. I know there are many that disagree with the hunting, killing and eating of whales, and I count myself among them. However, when something is offered to you out of kindness and as a genuine part of another culture, I can say right now that I will never turn that opportunity down. Anyways, here was the food:</div><div><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1I_EbUFsei6ZpTlsRk0Kgllv2bAZv8YmGn0dCgJkBoOGgwgm1Ttl6m0vTo3yqpUFEo14N75FtdLrzQtD3fG1gQLAgs5G2ACRan7H48UkL9PUKFmXuBvSDP4WuAPzIRsyPMGkeZDjTk4o/s1600/20110813215350+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1I_EbUFsei6ZpTlsRk0Kgllv2bAZv8YmGn0dCgJkBoOGgwgm1Ttl6m0vTo3yqpUFEo14N75FtdLrzQtD3fG1gQLAgs5G2ACRan7H48UkL9PUKFmXuBvSDP4WuAPzIRsyPMGkeZDjTk4o/s320/20110813215350+%25281%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The whale is on the right in the middle. The beef hadn't come out yet. So tasty!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div><b><u>August 14th, 15th and 16th: Less than restful rest days, Kyoto</u></b></div><div>Before I say anything else, I will say that Kyoto was an amazing place to visit, and I don't regret a moment that I spent there. However, I learned from a somewhat stressful "rest" day in Hiroshima that, in the future, I must be smarter about when and where I rest, and most importantly that I am actually able to rest! Instead, for the three nights I was in Kyoto, I stayed up late and got up early, then went sightseeing for 6 hours each day. Not so hot on the legs and knees!</div><div><br />
</div><div>Enough complaining, though, because this was one of the most amazing times of the year to be in Kyoto. During this season, one of the most important holidays in Japan is happening, the Obon festival. Obon generally revolves around one's ancestry and paying respects as such, and it is filled with some of the oldest and strongest traditions in Japan. For example, each year temples around Japan collect thin wooden boards, on which are written wishes, hopes, dreams and the like. During the Obon festival, the largest temples of each region will make an enormous, smoky bonfire and burn them. Everything is always in Japanese, so my understanding of the event is somewhat thin, but it was certainly a sight to see!</div><div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY_LuaDEzrH28_07drE_eKpLnaLMVf9rHSrHoJAAWSC15cZQ1DnaMsboToeyZdDPwORXS8_npcf7uMYTe8l_Ei7LMypXinUncqAf3oagFRG1kjJseXGIWbaVznOut5-hJ361KEIcf6A54/s1600/DSC03436.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY_LuaDEzrH28_07drE_eKpLnaLMVf9rHSrHoJAAWSC15cZQ1DnaMsboToeyZdDPwORXS8_npcf7uMYTe8l_Ei7LMypXinUncqAf3oagFRG1kjJseXGIWbaVznOut5-hJ361KEIcf6A54/s320/DSC03436.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An action shot. A bundle of dreams, tossed to the flames</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLM9TzMylRSxJGEXmaOhhaAcGLxgdky_S-Jh9f-V0ZVS-lkxYN1XZO2caUCiB1JduvnwpGwrqSq3CG2mbzf8izWJQkaMarM13t6o_sphk-3Ag9IO7F_XamkHSM9ZjuSfCtYfcvAkb8sQ8/s1600/DSC03422.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLM9TzMylRSxJGEXmaOhhaAcGLxgdky_S-Jh9f-V0ZVS-lkxYN1XZO2caUCiB1JduvnwpGwrqSq3CG2mbzf8izWJQkaMarM13t6o_sphk-3Ag9IO7F_XamkHSM9ZjuSfCtYfcvAkb8sQ8/s320/DSC03422.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Apparently not enough smoke :)<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizfFha93mQvJRekmbfpg5eqArSyxbHq5WCcJ4l6QPb7HaxBIVilHKcvQuJ1znFT1co95ABZyBIgv90Y89h-LJTZ4OsxvjD1I8xFaq44mYljBRv6CAtciryNKpm1YpCg5jirecpwK8kGLw/s1600/DSC03408.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizfFha93mQvJRekmbfpg5eqArSyxbHq5WCcJ4l6QPb7HaxBIVilHKcvQuJ1znFT1co95ABZyBIgv90Y89h-LJTZ4OsxvjD1I8xFaq44mYljBRv6CAtciryNKpm1YpCg5jirecpwK8kGLw/s320/DSC03408.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ceremonial tapping of the smoky pines</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div><div>I also had the opportunity to visit the Fushimi Inari shrine, home to about 6 million Torii, or Japanese sacred gates. I promise you'll recognize it when you see it.</div><div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh-50DwCFeK9LomTvyaX5ZLmOxY9e18UHIC8o4U1b69BTXeLliUyFIYFfNRDS86T6Y-21-aYDG0J4StDEpcpkh5C2FqWnmWG0IJgv2IBQeHBpNWTOngI6Cyp54lOCgsagRt8xMjJMqyVI/s1600/ypt.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh-50DwCFeK9LomTvyaX5ZLmOxY9e18UHIC8o4U1b69BTXeLliUyFIYFfNRDS86T6Y-21-aYDG0J4StDEpcpkh5C2FqWnmWG0IJgv2IBQeHBpNWTOngI6Cyp54lOCgsagRt8xMjJMqyVI/s320/ypt.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So there were these, and about 100 other "hallways" scattered about the mountain. Literally thousands of Torii</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div>Lastly, and the most fun event of Kyoto, was "Geisha hunting" with my German buddy, Fenja! The Geisha of Kyoto, who are NOT prostitutes, are Japanese hostesses trained in just about every form of Japanese traditional culture. They can conduct tea ceremonies, play instruments, dance, sing, tell jokes and cook a mean dinner all to the tune of about $4,000 for 2 hours...depending on the Geisha. If you find the right place in Kyoto, you can occasionally find them as they hurry to their evening appointments. Like so (all credit goes to Fenja:</div><div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJOecxVbB5vganDLN6v_kl1Rq7exBM26CFcIGi-_fERpMzfNpLj27TVug9MweOW_Fvc77pVo_XlfKAu3TqBHqG4hW6MPj5AvcgMso8HbjrpsEdTKv1-a6EUOuXsieyLpBDVEGnN6bV-5M/s1600/DSC03518.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJOecxVbB5vganDLN6v_kl1Rq7exBM26CFcIGi-_fERpMzfNpLj27TVug9MweOW_Fvc77pVo_XlfKAu3TqBHqG4hW6MPj5AvcgMso8HbjrpsEdTKv1-a6EUOuXsieyLpBDVEGnN6bV-5M/s320/DSC03518.JPG" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Super, super young (not officially a Geisha, yet)</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE8HNjBOiICzkfAdJ47p2xHfjEJ0FLE2gMZrcfFsfrdTDUZppGzxdf5spx0rbR04TDL_-lsVNitq1y1RYBKb77nXWREQaeIXHcAsLtvxsA25iRhT2i6Xe3LpjCM6ARyZEfWWCD9SEyENs/s1600/DSC03519.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE8HNjBOiICzkfAdJ47p2xHfjEJ0FLE2gMZrcfFsfrdTDUZppGzxdf5spx0rbR04TDL_-lsVNitq1y1RYBKb77nXWREQaeIXHcAsLtvxsA25iRhT2i6Xe3LpjCM6ARyZEfWWCD9SEyENs/s320/DSC03519.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Awesome shot</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHQ6Iboo98Ypdar5WarR0Lg-vJEUyLN5mZRLOjUIMWOZjCAUgM40-lBYg_exPL6Iy-dHN_QNbm2NENnkvtsXxt5u0dvmcgM-4uw1sC6doMwZLM4A_GI2rja10d6eEveFPwvwnJ4PmnbpY/s1600/DSC03521.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHQ6Iboo98Ypdar5WarR0Lg-vJEUyLN5mZRLOjUIMWOZjCAUgM40-lBYg_exPL6Iy-dHN_QNbm2NENnkvtsXxt5u0dvmcgM-4uw1sC6doMwZLM4A_GI2rja10d6eEveFPwvwnJ4PmnbpY/s320/DSC03521.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Very graceful, right?</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div>For the sake of familiarity, here's a shot of me and Fenja. She was a couch surfer at the same place as me, and since she actually knew what she was doing in Kyoto, I tagged along and did quite a bit of sightseeing with her.</div><div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4xe2CfVoVraUZ-qieEA-r0p0zwGROUdqt8mchfgHQ1QyWtKJ6OQ0G1E_D9NK5e3UNdkBFxU59ZcpKqxXQeEJZIHVIQ-RmWI7uEPNs0kkkE04KXEAbyPkAi41_3rsuH0QyTPEio2XNN_w/s1600/fri.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4xe2CfVoVraUZ-qieEA-r0p0zwGROUdqt8mchfgHQ1QyWtKJ6OQ0G1E_D9NK5e3UNdkBFxU59ZcpKqxXQeEJZIHVIQ-RmWI7uEPNs0kkkE04KXEAbyPkAi41_3rsuH0QyTPEio2XNN_w/s320/fri.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The thing we're holding says: Amerika and Deutschland. We didn't put it there and thought it was too funny to pass up</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div>Whew! It feels good to be caught up to the present moment. As I type this, my time at an internet cafe is quickly running out, and I must soon depart after 2 hours of sleep and make my way to Nagoya, Japan! It's 4:30 a.m. and I have no idea what the weather looks like outside...but I hope it's nice, or at least that the sun is up :)</div><div><div><div><div><br />
</div><div>New donation goal: $2,050. At the suggestion of my best bud Marty Pool, I hope to raise at least a dollar for every mile that I ride. Ideally I would like to get a dollar for each kilometer, but I would rather have a goal that I might reach :)</div><div><br />
</div><div><i><u>Now available:</u></i> I have made an updated route map that includes everywhere I have been and slept, as well as where I will be going (as of tomorrow, at least), check it out at the top by clicking on the Where in the World is Dylan page. Furthermore, I give you, my reader, my solemn word that I will <i>never</i> have another absence like this one. It's time to put my big boy pants on and make some money for the Red Cross.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Lastly, DONATE PLEASE if you haven't already. I know this blog has been just about my experiences and my story, but to an extent that is the purpose. Later, when I am actually closer to the affected areas of Japan, I will be able to prove more conclusively the need for further donations in the relief effort. Head to the top of the page and click the yellow button, it's just that easy!</div><div><div><br />
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<div><br />
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<br />
</div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Dylanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13266743677117674617noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7709094926279783927.post-87418519721337876012011-08-01T08:05:00.000-07:002011-08-01T08:05:08.320-07:00Time for an Earnest BeginningPerhaps I am jumping the gun here, but so far I am disappointed by the fact that I have yet to wax poetic in the face of my travels. Like so many other seem to, I was assuming the the uniqueness of the nomadic life would automatically coax the Kerouac out of me, allow the dormant Mark Twain to erupt in an eloquent fury...<div><br />
</div><div>Alas, I have thus far confirmed that I am just as much of a doofus on the road as I am off of it. If I am not singing The Beatles' "Let it Be" loudly enough for every farmer in the area to hear me, then I am pondering the legitimacy of the breakfast bar I had eaten earlier in the morning. Specifically, while eating a "Mixed Berry" breakfast tart, I stumbled across a few raisins. I was struck by the question: IS a raisin berry, or WAS a raisin a berry? These, ladies and gentlemen, are the questions that haunt me on the road. </div><div><br />
</div><div>In all honesty, though, my ride has been an excellent dip-of-the-toe into the ocean of the rest of this trip. Since beginning my ride across Kyushu (though southern, large island of Japan), I have stayed with friends and in free hotel rooms for 4 of the 5 nights. This is something that is unlikely to happen again, so it is time for me to really learn the true grit of bike touring!</div><div><br />
</div><div>After tomorrow, I will be leaving Kyushu and beginning the trip more earnestly (and completely alone), left only to my own devices to overcome whatever obstacles await me. I have many things to look forward to, as well as many more things to be prepared for, both good and bad. With the support of those reading this, and just the right amount of luck, I am beginning to think that riding across this country might just be possible...</div><div><br />
</div><div>Additionally, I have set a goal for the fundraiser. In my opinion it is a bit high...considering I don't have the time or know-how to attract donors that <i>aren't </i>friends or family, but anything is possible, right?</div><div><br />
</div><div>The fundraising goal is $2,500 which roughly corresponds to a bit more money than this whole crazy trip is costing me, which would be a great goal to reach. Also, check out the donation tracker, because we're almost a 3rd of the way there!!</div><div><br />
</div><div>Lastly, 350 / 3,300 km ridden</div><div><br />
</div>Dylanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13266743677117674617noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7709094926279783927.post-65625966681392087372011-07-27T17:06:00.000-07:002011-07-27T17:06:30.982-07:00Two Days of Wisdom, pretending to know what I'm talking aboutI was able to snag a bit of time, so here's what riding a bike everyday (for 2 days) feels like so far:<div><br />
</div><div><b><u>Places to go, but nowhere to be</u></b></div><div><br />
</div><div>I must say that the strangest part about it is the feeling of having a place to go, but no particular reason to go there. At times it can be somewhat scary, especially with questions like: "Where will you sleep?" Overall, though, it is a truly exciting and new feeling to set off from one town on your way to another, with so many unknowns along the way. I am not sure if that is what "adventure" feels like, but it is pretty neat so far.</div><div><br />
</div><div><b><u>On the feeling of distance</u></b></div><div><b><u><br />
</u></b></div><div>The difference, mentally, between my first day and second day was pretty astonishing. I am not sure exactly what I was expecting from riding my bike from place to place, but it certainly took WAY longer than I thought it would. I suppose any time I had ever ridden anywhere by bike, I would usually arrive at my destination no more than 30 minutes later. </div><div><br />
</div><div>Obviously, this is not true on a bike tour! However, once I had a chance to change my mindset and try to enjoy the surroundings a bit more, everything became easier. Though I had only traveled 45 km or so on the first day, it felt like I had gone for some unbelievable distance. When riding a bike, the added amount of sights, sounds, feelings and thoughts make the journey quite interesting.</div><div><br />
</div><div><b><u>Sometimes, a man CAN be an island</u></b></div><div><b><u><br />
</u></b></div><div>For anyone who had done a backpacking trip, they can relate to this feeling, the sense that you are you're own, self-contained bubble. Everything I have with me right now is everything I will have with me for every day of the trip. I am my own ecosystem, my own island chugging along winding mountain roads, and also drying my laundry!</div><div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVOuY3R_8lTt_T2zTwNy_wvX4adhxfMy8EP8_IykrC2j79OMY0ihQ7xdujODxU_N6xumi-TxrNQfzOxcIqxi59JThZ-0JW0NBkkYwVRpCI8-XTx6oX9Rluogell5IvageY0CYKT1W7_sk/s1600/DSCN1315.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVOuY3R_8lTt_T2zTwNy_wvX4adhxfMy8EP8_IykrC2j79OMY0ihQ7xdujODxU_N6xumi-TxrNQfzOxcIqxi59JThZ-0JW0NBkkYwVRpCI8-XTx6oX9Rluogell5IvageY0CYKT1W7_sk/s320/DSCN1315.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My current setup. Bandana and Towel didn't dry fast enough, so they got the strap treatment.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div>As it stands now, I am still terribly excited about doing this whole trip, and my motivation has only increased (let's hope it stays that way!). Finding good, cheap places to sleep, I predict, will remain a troublesome and persistent issue, but that's all part of the adventure, right!? </div><div><br />
</div><div>At least someone here has a sense of humor...</div><div><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4vUagWN8IpV36DLdNJdjbNXlUEoVp1upDqMV_gzb-S_yIP-9x17qDIYuyULg6MNcw3cOpYvm2HVHGFXJwDICkUCMvByP-MHxunvpptuJASDiZMWkNLeSvh1977b95znQfkd639QOKlAk/s1600/DSCN1317.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4vUagWN8IpV36DLdNJdjbNXlUEoVp1upDqMV_gzb-S_yIP-9x17qDIYuyULg6MNcw3cOpYvm2HVHGFXJwDICkUCMvByP-MHxunvpptuJASDiZMWkNLeSvh1977b95znQfkd639QOKlAk/s320/DSCN1317.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A cycling computer, it can tell you the time AND laugh in your face (7:07 a.m. for those who couldn' tell)</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div>Dylanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13266743677117674617noreply@blogger.com0Yatsushiro, Kumamoto Prefecture, Japan32.5074371 130.6017432999999532.3763526 130.33401129999996 32.6385216 130.86947529999995tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7709094926279783927.post-22193165323575281162011-07-25T06:15:00.001-07:002011-07-25T11:14:51.545-07:00The Best Worst BeginningA quick word before recounting the beginning of the trip. Hopefully later I will have the time to tell the full story, but for the sake of background I must explain the importance of Kawasaki san. Since the first night I met him, him and I have become quite good friends, and have met about 3 times a week every week since being in Japan. This has afforded me countless nights of precious Japanese practice, as well as an insurmountable sum of free, delicious dinners (I swear I always offered to pay!).<br />
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To be perfectly frank, Kawasaki san has done more for me than I can ever repay (both in money and kindness), and as such the only thing I can do from here is try my absolute hardest to fulfill this crazy dream of mine to ride across all of Japan. So without further adieu, let's see how I've fared thus far.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmMpMAYFwM_WraTQ5GoDJV0wkbvuA_4Sc8YJ5gm82efu4-sxh1QoDAiOqCxn7lIZGsczndGJcko6IdTNbwD1Qn962DXSBNZPQK6hstt1uZOw3sEPE4IQuoBAXbmdmTfNag_ZWxbqJ6xEk/s1600/20110724103219.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmMpMAYFwM_WraTQ5GoDJV0wkbvuA_4Sc8YJ5gm82efu4-sxh1QoDAiOqCxn7lIZGsczndGJcko6IdTNbwD1Qn962DXSBNZPQK6hstt1uZOw3sEPE4IQuoBAXbmdmTfNag_ZWxbqJ6xEk/s1600/20110724103219.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There I am, just chillin' out on the southernmost point of mainland Japan. NBD.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>How did I get there? Well first of all, Kawasaki san decided it would be best if he personally escorted me down to Kagoshima in the south. We would travel by bullet train, rent a car and then figure out the details. Upon renting a car, again it was decided that the best course of action was to take the care by ferry across Kagoshima bay and just drive all the way down to Cape Sata (2 hr drive), where I could just start riding from there.<br />
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This plan was significantly faster than my initial thoughts, which involved riding from Kagoshima to Sata in a 3 day (or so) round trip.<br />
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So after arriving, seeing the sights and taking some pictures, I unload my bike and nervously set up for my 80 km day (50 miles). After a short argument about who would leave first, I was off on my 6-8 hour ride back to Kagoshima. Excitement was high and blood was pumping after I descended a short hill and climbed another. My body felt solid and my legs strong as I pedaled and pedaled, each stroke bringing me closer to the beginning of a once in a lifetime trip. The humidity was high, but I didn't care because I was living the dream, baby! I was on a bike, flying down a hill without a care in the world, about to blaze my way across an entire country and I BOOOOOOM! My tire hits something hard and the bike wobbles for a moment. "Well that sounded just plain awful, I hope everything is ok" I say to myself.<br />
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I didn't actually have time to finish that thought, because my tire had gone completely flat before I was able. Contrary to the length of the description above, this all occurred in just under 5 minutes, within the first 500 meters of the trip. As fate would have it, the winner of the "who would leave first" argument was Kawasaki san, and about 2 minutes of walking later, he comes rolling up to ask what was wrong. Luckily I still don't have enough Japanese to convey my feelings of embarrassment/defeat for having a minor failure so soon, so as I loaded my bike into his car, smiles and small talk were really the only options.<br />
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I wasn't able to repair the tire, because we had left my bags in Kagoshima, thus I had only a patch kit and some tire levers with me (which are surprisingly ineffective when dealing with a burst tire). Therefore, Kawasaki san and I just drove all the way back to Kagoshima. Upon arriving, Kawasaki san and I have a party with some of his oldest friends from elementary school in order to celebrate my first day. After I finished explaining that celebration wasn't necessary, we proceeded to have a wonderful time as planned.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgRKRbwtw_0OGHHn1wTLPclCsLN-mQ947Gl3bqPa1NNi3OH8RCUAMwbjmOhSkaumZ9zLS50pPMLMZdhR-H2djLg2WXxG-A2Hzf9PpoQ7ucZvBwAake5JNaEy_S_TEAGXOp2m27tqTLOLU/s1600/DSCN1307.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgRKRbwtw_0OGHHn1wTLPclCsLN-mQ947Gl3bqPa1NNi3OH8RCUAMwbjmOhSkaumZ9zLS50pPMLMZdhR-H2djLg2WXxG-A2Hzf9PpoQ7ucZvBwAake5JNaEy_S_TEAGXOp2m27tqTLOLU/s320/DSCN1307.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dinner (which consisted of fish that my host had caught on the same day) with some more of the nicest people I have ever met!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<b>Day 1: </b>0.5 / 3200 km ridden<br />
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Day 2 actually held a bigger surprise. This blog needs to be a full disclosure description of my many experiences/successes/failures. As such, I must admit that I wasn't able to practice riding with loaded panniers for even one minute before beginning day 2, a projected 90 km (56 mile) day. Thankfully, it turns out that riding with panniers (bike bags) in traffic is TERRIFYING when you don't have a sense for their weight. Call me blessed, but the presence of a torrential downpour the moment I began riding also sweetened the deal.<br />
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Needless to say, I pulled over, waited a bit, spent 30 minutes doubting myself and generally freaking out when I decided that two things are true about my current plan. 1.) quitting is not an option, unless thievery or injury prevents continuation. 2.) as long as I finish the trip generally around 55 days from now, I'll be just fine. Since Kawasaki san already saved me 3 days by driving me to and from the Cape, I have a bit of time to spare.<br />
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So day 2 was instead a mental prep day. Japanese people are really good at keeping you busy, so I really hadn't had time yet to take in my current location and mental state. Furthermore, an opportunity to get some tune-up work done on my bike and, most importantly, practice riding with loaded panniers, was too good to waste. Finally, checking into a hotel and renting a laptop (for free!) would be a great way to catch up on some much needed blogging.<br />
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Rather than make an real distance on the trip, I waited out the rainstorm, my girlfriend helped me find a cheap hotel and then I spent the whole day riding around with loaded panniers to familiarize myself with the feeling. Overall, a quite successful, though technically unproductive day!<br />
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<b>Day 2:</b> 55 km ridden, 0 km progress made.<br />
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<b>Total distance covered:</b> 0.5 / 3200 km (totally badass, I know)<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjumqJKudhFFgA9JCOJzabWwyhjqb06k7A7M86kdT9wfMOchr62UbrMTRKyeXgu3AGCC-t6MlPzx__gAt4aGxGM0q6Wy8HutQgsD2bWMf84irqHBjVJjl00ziKC4cHPNwPhqf6_HW-wGyk/s1600/20110725115148.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjumqJKudhFFgA9JCOJzabWwyhjqb06k7A7M86kdT9wfMOchr62UbrMTRKyeXgu3AGCC-t6MlPzx__gAt4aGxGM0q6Wy8HutQgsD2bWMf84irqHBjVJjl00ziKC4cHPNwPhqf6_HW-wGyk/s1600/20110725115148.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I truly truly hope that I am able to continue finding enormous Buddhas just chilling out in open fields</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
Tomorrow will be the real test, though. 80 km and no idea where to sleep will surely give me a sense of the adventure I'm looking for here!Dylanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13266743677117674617noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7709094926279783927.post-12169639267372253792011-07-25T04:43:00.000-07:002011-07-25T04:43:27.813-07:00And So It Begins...<div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">On the off chance that those who read this aren't just friends and family, let us begin with a proper introduction.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvdYLB9B9A1vkLSH-_BZb7rPegmwqKKZep1qXxD6SXq_VBKho3ERObaKWPFNjfMq3gTNY8nH832n85tJOcr1wc-Rmd9SkuB748FVY4ZXa1WGfGp1Z4vo74BkRrT2VqrHplt_9bBKBCixs/s1600/DSCN0959.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvdYLB9B9A1vkLSH-_BZb7rPegmwqKKZep1qXxD6SXq_VBKho3ERObaKWPFNjfMq3gTNY8nH832n85tJOcr1wc-Rmd9SkuB748FVY4ZXa1WGfGp1Z4vo74BkRrT2VqrHplt_9bBKBCixs/s320/DSCN0959.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"> So that's me, staring dumbly into the camera with some admittedly beautiful flowers in the background. My name is Dylan Jacoby, I'm 24, and I am going to ride my bike across Japan in order to raise money for the 赤十字 (Japanese Red Cross). I will begin my journey in mid July and it shall end roughly 2 months later. Why am I doing this, you might ask? Let me get right into it, then:</div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"> Suffice to say I have always had an interest in coming to Japan. After graduating college with degrees in Computer Science and Philosophy (like peas in a pod, those two), I taught in a high school for 2 years and then jumped ship and came to Japan. I've been here since the end of January, studying in an intensive language school for 6 weeks and then traveling with friends and my girlfriend until just recently. On May 9, 2011 at 12:34 a.m., I decided I would ride a bike across Japan to raise money, but let's not get ahead of ourselves here.</div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"> On March 11, Japan was hit by a massive earthquake in the Tohoku region of Japan causing horrific amounts of death and physical damage to the area. Like many Japanese and foreigners in Japan and abroad, I felt the general desire to help by either sending money or trying to actually go there and help out (since I was in Japan I though: "Why not?"). However, as time passed and the news showed more and more of what was actually happening, I progressed past the "Gee I wish I could help out" stage and started to really weigh some options. Here's what I learned about my situation: I have little money, I am young, fit, occasionally intelligent and I love Japan.</div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">So, obviously the only thing I can do is plan a bike ride from one end of Japan to the other, right? Right.</div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"> Though I am indeed doing this for the benefit of the Japanese Red Cross, I would be lying if I didn't hope to have an unforgettable experience and some stories to tell along the way. I'm actually hoping that the acquisition of stories will make my foray into social networking a more effective fundraising tool. </div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"> BUT, and this is a big <b>BUT </b>(hence the excessive formatting), there are a few obstacles to overcome before I get on the road. Most importantly, since I didn't plan on this bike ride <i>before</i> coming to Japan, I don't actually have the tools to accomplish this task (i.e. a bike, or any of the other gear), but this is something that I will overcome.</div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"> I was hesitant to begin this blog in the early stages of planning, and even more hesitant to let anyone know that I was writing it. But here you are, anyways. In my life, aside from whatever successes or failures I have been responsible for, none of them have felt particularly rewarding or upsetting. The reason? I've never really done anything risky or terribly important to me. Whenever entering into a situation, I usually knew my chances. Therefore I'm wasn't surprised when I succeeded and it wasn't too painful to fail. But this, my friends, this will be different. I have about 1,000,000 things to do between now and mid-July to make this ride work, and I don't know if I will be able to do them, but I guess that's the reason I've started down this path. I will need to work harder than I ever have starting from now until I am standing on the northern coast of Japan to even hope to accomplish this. My hope is to take some of those that are reading this along for the ride.</div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"> I hope that this blog will be a way for people to hear my story, donate to my cause and maybe have a good time looking at some pictures. Like these one:</div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzkoBAPXB9ZzBRxvWpLn_LgcpiEjt8dnplvqOoom4t6kj81nMJAEtD2QBA61-sLV6WTKUYpG-N8SxOv9dHm_96Lxd_eHz0zZPruSRqgbdt7dSPXvyQIvPBCWdhQra-xqgm9qEtLPogf2o/s1600/DSCN0608.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzkoBAPXB9ZzBRxvWpLn_LgcpiEjt8dnplvqOoom4t6kj81nMJAEtD2QBA61-sLV6WTKUYpG-N8SxOv9dHm_96Lxd_eHz0zZPruSRqgbdt7dSPXvyQIvPBCWdhQra-xqgm9qEtLPogf2o/s200/DSCN0608.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Posing with the infamous Banana Man and Friends</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioBBahwAH-9EkoxT3Zvauh3-Uz73iRglVAATqbwCsFM45PYhG6rPrCLoQ0u1soemc4XvIo-PC0OzyBGEq3-ZbSOQdFRrMEArzjiAdQriMt0pOuXe-FC8y_jy_yhBNHT-caHIOzJzAdxRQ/s1600/DSCN0501.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioBBahwAH-9EkoxT3Zvauh3-Uz73iRglVAATqbwCsFM45PYhG6rPrCLoQ0u1soemc4XvIo-PC0OzyBGEq3-ZbSOQdFRrMEArzjiAdQriMt0pOuXe-FC8y_jy_yhBNHT-caHIOzJzAdxRQ/s200/DSCN0501.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>I'm not sure I got the pose right...</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"> Like I said, I am hesitant to begin this blog so early in the stages of development, but now I have pigeon-holed this blog into one of two scenarios. </div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">1.) I will not accomplish what I have set out to do, and I will (hopefully) learn from it and be stronger for it.</div><br />
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2.) I will chronicle the story of someone who had no idea what they were doing and then accomplished something pretty neat.<br />
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Maybe I'll throw a poll up here and see what you guys think ;)<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">PLUG TIME!!</div><br />
<u><b>Donate to the Red Cross:</b></u><br />
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First and foremost, donate to the Red Cross! I would like to keep track of donations in my name, but that will come later, I would rather someone donate now, if they are willing. The benefit to donating to the Red Cross instead of the various "Earthquake Only" charities that have sprung up is that, on the off chance that <i>too much</i> money is sent to Japan on behalf of the earthquake, the money will be put towards the various other humanitarian programs they are running (more on those in a later post).<br />
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Donate to the Japanese Red Cross by clicking the button at the top of the page!<br />
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<u><b>My Japanese Language School</b></u><br />
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For anyone interested, I had a very nice experience with the school I attended here in Fukuoka, Japan. So here's their website:<br />
<u><b> </b></u><br />
<a href="http://genkijacs.com/">Genki Japanese and Culture School</a><br />
<div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"></div>Dylanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13266743677117674617noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7709094926279783927.post-6769524337514018672011-07-23T08:53:00.000-07:002011-07-24T05:35:47.012-07:00And so it begins!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">On Sunday, July 24, 2011, I will begin my long and arduous journey across Japan. I'll start out at Cape Sata and make the 60 mile trek to Kagoshima in just one day. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b>Here goes nothing...</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pC64TqX1CK4/Th5eYvV1X_I/AAAAAAAAAFc/N_lXCoS9sSw/s1600/DSCN0269.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pC64TqX1CK4/Th5eYvV1X_I/AAAAAAAAAFc/N_lXCoS9sSw/s320/DSCN0269.JPG" width="320px" /></a></div>Dylanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13266743677117674617noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7709094926279783927.post-6814735697196465442011-07-23T04:47:00.000-07:002011-07-25T05:22:42.717-07:00Japan = Reality > ExpectationsRight after this post, I promise I will jump into the actual beginning of my trip. It is very important for everyone to know where I have been to really understand where I am going. Also, sorry for a math-y title.<br />
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Where were we last? I believe that I, armed with my 2 year-old-level Japanese, was about to go to dinner with some high and mighty Japanese businessmen. I had first met them on a Thursday and they invited me out the following Tuesday, so I had a good 5 days to fret and worry and feel astoundingly foolish/nervous about trying to struggle through another few hours of conversation. I immediately began to think of ways to avoid meeting them. Unfortunately, the usual tactic of making an excuse doesn't work when you can't speak the language in which to craft the excuse, and after that I was out of ideas.<br />
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Ultimately, I decided that I would go. What was the worst that could happen? Worst case: a total stranger asks me to leave a building that I have no intention of ever going to again. I might feel silly...but at least I would know for sure that drunken promises are to be taken lightly in Japan.<br />
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As it turns out, any promise ever made (ever!) is to be taken lightly in Japan. The very first person I saw when entering the office building, who was indeed a stranger, called me by my name and asked me to follow her before I even had a chance to say anything. After I recovered from the initial shock of this, I settled into the nice feeling that a wonderful opportunity to practice my Japanese for a bit was coming my way. Needless to say, I was even more surprised when, instead of coffee and chit chat, they had instead planned a "Welcome Party" for me at a nearby Yakitori restaurant (grilled meat on a stick). So they ushered me on over there to be met by the welcoming stares of another 30 Yomiuri business men and women, all apparently there to say hello to me. Considering my Japanese level at the time, I will probably never really understand that night...but it was a ton of fun!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikvRdIT2aKjicU3UZsK21dqhd3-ikHCWI8Ml0VUoj6-f5MOQ9a4xklN9VxUABgv8YsHAfdLGPmr9mJ5B5RBXzN0c_aTl2BPW-p5RiOcdWDPOk3biJKgsojm_gylF7h0XYyLsy4cug-N7Y/s1600/DSCN0880.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikvRdIT2aKjicU3UZsK21dqhd3-ikHCWI8Ml0VUoj6-f5MOQ9a4xklN9VxUABgv8YsHAfdLGPmr9mJ5B5RBXzN0c_aTl2BPW-p5RiOcdWDPOk3biJKgsojm_gylF7h0XYyLsy4cug-N7Y/s320/DSCN0880.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kawasaki san on the left and Ikemoto san on the right. Truly wonderful people.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div>As the night drew to an end, Kawasaki san, the head honcho of sorts, invited myself and the president of the online newspaper division to continue eating and drinking at the restaurant where we had first met. It might sound like a date, but it turns out that Kawasaki san's apartment is right above the bar, so he eats there quite often. As THAT part of the night drew to a close, the vice president of the online division, Ikemoto san, personally walked me home from the bar to my dormitory (also not a date).<br />
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I am sure the language barrier is to blame, but I am constantly amazed by the difference between my expectations in Japan and what ends up happening. I expected coffee and a one hour chit-chat. Instead it was a 5 hour drink/eat marathon that ended with an escort home by a guy who kept calling himself a "small Yakuza."<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFtA6KMCQ-ntF16B3XjzoAmxvSLlpe2QZX_OvdzGugLQGh34mOJ3C3UBW46OaciAqHRFTBt2QkSJJ1r2fG7ayDh9vOaT-86JgbbxwqPSV90Yjw0MBrL6NfiSAUQyvJc_F7l3IlzrSZHG4/s1600/DSCN1258.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFtA6KMCQ-ntF16B3XjzoAmxvSLlpe2QZX_OvdzGugLQGh34mOJ3C3UBW46OaciAqHRFTBt2QkSJJ1r2fG7ayDh9vOaT-86JgbbxwqPSV90Yjw0MBrL6NfiSAUQyvJc_F7l3IlzrSZHG4/s320/DSCN1258.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kawasaki san again. Do not try to sit on a bench with a guy in a thong. Either it isn't allowed, or they just aren't that friendly</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
</div>Dylanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13266743677117674617noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7709094926279783927.post-8046881897408073142011-07-14T08:51:00.000-07:002011-07-25T04:59:48.853-07:00When David Met GoliathBefore coming to Japan, I enrolled in the <a href="http://genkijacs.com/">Genki Japanese and Culture School</a> for a 6 week intensive course on Japanese. My goal for coming to Japan was to become an English teacher, but learning a little Japanese probably wouldn't hurt my ability to enjoy the country. I wanted to get the most out of my time at Genki, so like the technologically reliant boy that I am, I Googled “how to learn Japanese in Japan.” <br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">As a quick aside, I just wanted to note here that I literally Google everything (how to organize a refrigerator, how to do laundry in cold/hot/warm water, really basic things). I don't do it because I don't know how, but usually you can improve your own methods based on the suggestions of others. I highly recommend it. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Anyways, back to learning Japanese. Amongst suggestions to hit on as many Japanese women as humanly possible to obtain a girlfriend, there were many more legitimate ideas. Most notably, go to izakayas (Japanese bars) by yourself. Japanese people are very shy, but once they've had a bit to drink, they become much more open and willing to talk to foreigners because, honestly, the chance to talk to foreigners doesn't come by often for the average Japanese person.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">So, armed with this precious technique, I was off to Japan to do whatever it was I hoped to accomplish. Two weeks into my studies, with a bicycle as my steed, I would ride home every night to my dormitory in a zig-zag pattern through the city, looking for divey-bars that seemed inviting. Though this had become regular practice for me, the act of entering a Japanese bar is quite stressful for the less outgoing of us. For starters, everything is in Japanese (which I still can't read well). Also, all windows are frosted past the point of obscurity, so you cannot gauge in the least the amicability of the people inside. Despite this, after finding a bar, becoming scared, riding my bike around the block once (twice) I worked up the courage to slide open the door, walk in and...</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Be met by the stunned looks of the only three customers, bartender and even the cook in the back. I would be lying if I said I didn't want to slowly back out of the bar and slide the door shut behind me, but I had already untied my shoes in preparation to take them off and was worried I would trip. So I stayed.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">If my ability to speak Japanese has any strengths, I would certainly say pronunciation is my strong suit. However, I suppose the nerves got to me and I proceeded to sound like a babbling idiot that I'm sure no speaker of any language could understand. Despite this, I was effectively able to tell them that I like vegetables (none specifically, because I didn't know the Japanese for any at the time). Also, I ordered the only drink I knew of in Japan, which is the especially feminine plum-wine soda known as Ume-shu.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Apparently, I must have been endearingly foolish because everyone seemed to take to my presence pretty well, laughing and asking me the few basic questions I was familiar with. At the time, I was sitting at the bar, and the only other three customers were sitting at a table, obscured by a wooden pillar. They were asking me a few questions, but it was often interrupted by the series of head-jukes we had to perform to make eye contact with one another. That very day, I had learned how do use a verb and turn it into a polite request, so I rose from my seat, walked over to them and asked if I could sit down.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Even if they didn't want me to sit, Japanese people are too polite to say no. Luckily, I think they grew to like me, as I went through just about every single Japanese word, phrase or grammar point I knew in an effort to make conversation. Shortly, though, I learned that these three men were, in order, the vice president, the guy under him, and the guy under him for the Fukuoka city Yomiuri Newspaper.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Quick business lesson: The Yomiuri Newspaper has three branch offices, one of which is in Fukuoka. Also, it is the most highly circulated newspaper in the world, a bit more than double that of the New York Times. Sure, that's probably because they print papers twice a day, but it's still an impressive number!</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Suffice to say, I just spent an hour having elementary school-level conversations with, arguably, the most powerful people I've ever met. Apparently, though, they saw something they liked in me, and decided to invite me to meet them for dinner the next week after work.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3e28u38dbE0/Th5eQih4iEI/AAAAAAAAAE4/e84W7wYhJcA/s1600/DSCN0127.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3e28u38dbE0/Th5eQih4iEI/AAAAAAAAAE4/e84W7wYhJcA/s320/DSCN0127.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If only I knew then where that handshake would lead me!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>I would love to share more of this story right now, but in the hopes that you've been interested up to this point, I've got to leave you wanting more. <br />
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</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">If what you have read so far has made you smile, appreciate Japan or conjured any sort of positive emotion. Please consider donating to the Japanese Red Cross. The stories I am writing might not have anything to do with the earthquake or those affected (not yet, at least), but everything I am doing, I wouldn't be if it weren't for my desire to help the Red Cross. Donate and/or learn more at the top of this page! </div>Dylanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13266743677117674617noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7709094926279783927.post-67438046720896347062011-07-12T08:40:00.000-07:002011-07-14T23:15:07.503-07:00Pardon the Intermission<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Whew, it has been quite some time since my first post! Thankfully, I'm sure those of you who read my blog in May are just friends and family, so I trust that you will stick with me now.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Much has happened since that fateful rainy night in May when I decided to embark on this journey, and I must admit that am pretty amazed and happy with the way things have turned out. Before I begin telling stories, for all of the overly curious out there: Yes, I am still going to ride a bicycle from Cape Sata to Cape Soya for the benefit of the Japanese Red Cross. The only difference is that things are a astoundingly more legitimate now compared to mere pipe dream they once were.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I would like to note here that in my blog I will constantly strive for illustration rather than documentation. This is my first bicycle touring trip, so I am sure the act of riding a bike every day will be new and exciting for me. However, I am equally sure that cobbling together blog posts from my daily routine would quickly bore everyone straight to death. “I woke up...early. I rode my bike for 4-6 hours *insert description of terrain* then I ate and slept in some order.” Riveting.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Now that we're at an understanding, I would now like to begin the Great Catch Up on what I've been doing for the past two months. The full explanation is a bit too long-winded for a single post, so I will break it into parts, the end culminating just in time for the beginning of my trip, which is actually next week! What follows will be a series of vignettes, if you will, chronicling the adventures of a highly inexperienced (read foolish) person in their quest to do something marginally meaningful.<br />
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Before I leave you, here's are some pictures!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5q3-xxI4VKo/Th5d9ySkwQI/AAAAAAAAADs/33ba1gP-U7g/s1600/DSCN1201.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5q3-xxI4VKo/Th5d9ySkwQI/AAAAAAAAADs/33ba1gP-U7g/s320/DSCN1201.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is the bike, soon I will be auctioning the chance to name her for a hefty donation</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Thanks for all those of you who dealt with my long absence, and thanks to those of you who are just tuning in. As with all of my posts, I will now cordially ask for a donation to the Japanese Red Cross. If you'd like some information on why that might be nice, check out my Donation Information Page across the top! Or just hit the button at the top of the page.</div>Dylanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13266743677117674617noreply@blogger.com0