Rain at Night, the Following Morning
The sound of rain.
"Shito-shito," "sho-sho," "zaa-zaa," "potsu-potsu."
There are many different tones to it, and I don't dislike any of them.
That is, provided I'm not camping in a tent during a bike tour with a grueling mountain pass ahead of me the next day.
When the sound of rain "pattering" on the tent in the middle of the night briefly releases me from the embrace of sleepiness,
"Ah, it's raining,"
my heart feels a little heavy.
However, to a body heavy with fatigue, the rain on the tent quickly shifts from the sound of an alarm clock to a lullaby, and I resume my passionate embrace with sleep, even while thinking about the next morning.
That is how the second day began.
Morning, after a deep sleep. There is no sound of rain.
"Thank goodness."
The planned route for the day was to climb Mount Fuji up to the 5th station, then head over the mountain to a campsite near Lake Yamanaka, which is on the opposite side of Fuji from Lake Tanuki.
If it had been raining, it would have turned into a hellish route plagued by the triple threat of being:
"Cold,"
"Dangerous,"
"Exhausting."
Relieved that I couldn't hear the rain,
I crawled out of the tent, dragging a pleasant lethargy behind me, and this is what I saw...
Pure white.
Even looking toward Mount Fuji, I couldn't see its shape, and today's planned route was also shrouded in white mist.
I had wanted everyone to see the shape of Mount Fuji and the scenery from the mountain, but
unfortunately, I had to consider changing the route.
That said, rushing wouldn't help.
First, we held a strategy meeting to wake up our sleepy bodies with delicious coffee brewed by my friends.
This is the fun of touring with companions.
We discussed the route, throwing ideas back and forth.
We unanimously decided against riding the mountain climbing route, which would likely have been raining and cold.
But I didn't want to turn a precious day for everyone who had come from overseas to ride into just another travel day.
I dug up memories from over 20 years ago, when I used to ride around this area often, and searched my brain for interesting roads.
We decided to flexibly change our path, focusing on a route that incorporated nearby dirt roads.
And so, we set off.
Between you and me, though, I was filled with anxiety.
I thought, "There should be dirt roads somewhere around here," but my memories were 20 years old.
I rode with the single wish, "Please let the roads still be there," and when I found the entrance to a dirt trail that looked just as it had, I could have danced for joy.
The off-road trail we started on had a quite mystical atmosphere, thanks to the deep greens and mist characteristic of the area.
The sound of the tires gripping the earth was pleasant.
My friends were also riding happily.
I breathed a sigh of relief.
The secret to their strength as cyclists
I suppose you only feel "overwhelmed" in moments like these.
Despite all their bikes being loaded with gear for five days and four nights,
they didn't seem bothered at all, each choosing their own lines and making the sound of tires kicking up dirt.
This is the manifestation of the spirit they have for enjoying the ride.
"The bike is..." "The tires are..." "My condition is..." "The road surface is..."
They don't say such things.
Mike from DeSalvo, for instance, is fully enjoying the off-road despite being on slick tires.
Always enjoying the best of what's available.
Knowing that is what I realized is their "strength."
They always seem to be having fun, whether on-road or off.
Sure, they have red faces and look like they’re suffering on the climbs, and they look miserable when they get hungry.
But they are playing in earnest.
"Hardship" and "fun" are the same game to them.
The only problem was that whenever they spotted a cool car they loved, they’d stop to fuss over it, making it impossible for us to move forward.
It was the second day of our adventure, where I got a glimpse of their true selves.
Even after arriving at the campsite, the night wore on as we talked excitedly about the Japanese riding scene, the unique style of tonight's campsite, bath culture, the elusive sight of Mount Fuji, and stories about each other’s families.
Two other friends were supposed to arrive late at night, but once again, I couldn't resist the temptation of sleep.
That's just between us, though—that I couldn't welcome them.
TODAY’S RIDER
Mike DeSalvo 【DeSalvo Custom Cycles】
| Frame | DeSalvo | Ti Disc Cross |
| Fork | Ritchey | WCS Cross Carbon Disc Fork |
| HeadSet | ChrisKing | Inset1 |
| Wheel | Rolf | |
| Tire | Clement | Strada LGG 28c |
| Stem | Ritchey | WCS |
| SeatPost | Ritchey | WCS |
| Main Group | Shimano Ultegra di2 | with 11/36T Cassete(!!!) |
| Handle Bag | Reverate Design | Harness |
| Seat Bag | Reverate Design | Viscacha |
| Frame Bag | Reverate Design | Tangle Frame Bag |
Photo by John Watson & Riebo