Having had my first “real” bike ride two weeks ago, a 55km ride up into the mountains and back, and found it to be not challenging at all, I wanted to try something certain to challenge myself, so I put together a plan to do a 100km loop with intense mountain sequences that far exceeded what I'd done before.

Since then it's been quite cold with occasional snow, so it wasn't until this past Saturday that I could give it a try.

The important parts of my outfit are by Under Armour, a maker whose products I've liked more and more as I get to know them, enough so that I eventually bought their stock. Prior to getting ready for this bike ride all their products I've bought have been in the “Heat Gear” line (to be worn when exercising in the heat), so I had to buy new products for this winter event: Cold Gear Compression Long-Sleeve Mock Shirt, and Cold Gear Compression Leggings.

Over the leggings I threw some old basketball shorts because I don't have the guts to go out in painted-on skin-tight pants, and over the shirt I threw a thick cotton long-sleeve shirt and my ultra-orange “ninja jacket” windbreaker. I knew that the combination of the cotton shirt and windbreaker would conspire to accumulate moisture, and I'm sure it would have been much nicer to have a real workout-use jacket, but it's tough enough for me to find a size that fits in The States, much less here in Japan via mail order, so I made do with what I had.

The long thin cardboard box on the back of the bike is something I rigged up just for this trip...

The box holds one GPS unit (a Garmin eTrex Legend HCx that I bought in 2007), two GPS/GLONASS units (a Garmin eTrex 20 that I bought in 2011, and Bad Elf GPS Pro + that I bought a month ago when I thought I'd lost my eTrex 20). I'm bringing all these units so that later I can compare the tracks from the various units, though mountain cover and open road, in a similar way to this informal test. I didn't want to just throw them in the side bag because I wanted to ensure that they each had the same clear view of the sky, and so hence the makeshift box.

The box also holds a Braven 710 Bluetooth speaker, because it can be used as a USB charger. The last 30km of my intended route winds through small nameless countryside roads with dozens of turns, so I wanted to make sure I had juice for my iPad and its mapping software.

Before getting started on my trip, I had one quick stop to make...

12-year-old Anthony was going to have his own ride, about 6km each way, to play with friends, and he wanted a bottle cage on his bike. I thought I might get one as well, so we were at a nearby bikeshop when they opened at 9am.

Both with our new bottle cages, Anthony went on his way and I on mine. I didn't get long before I realized I had a problem.

In talking about my plan on the Cycling Kyoto Facebook page, the guy who got me into cycling, Salvo Mannino (seen here) had suggested that I would freeze myself to death if I made it to the top of the mountain, because all the sweat that I'd accumulated on the way up would freeze me in the coasting on the way down. So, I prepared with these dire warnings in mind... except my feet.

Cycling seems to be all about bringing as little with you as possible, and reducing the weight of everything you do bring, including the bike. Given any level of quality, a bike that weighs 10% less than its peer might cost double. Anyway, in thinking of my shoes, I choose some very light gym shoes that I'd picked up via Zappos.com the last time I was in The States. I gotten several different styles, and so had extra around to choose from. They weighed almost nothing.

But even with two pairs of socks, at speed my toes got quickly cold... nothing about the shoes stopped the wind from ripping through. So almost immediately I stopped by a convenience store and asked for two of their smallest plastic bags. I put these over my socks, then put my feet into the shoes, and hoped that the wind barrier would allow the socks to retain heat.

I had to wait for the traffic light at Marutamachi Higashioji, but when the light turned green for me, I took off for what would be more than 17km of non-stop cycling... I wouldn't put my foot on the ground until long past Kurama.

At first I went along the river... no traffic / traffic-light worries...

Me being the geoencoding geek that I am, I built a little plugin for Adobe Lightroom for myself that told me about the track between two photos. In comparing the photo at the start near the big orange gate, and the photo above from the river, I see that I'd ridden 2.3km over the course of seven minutes of riding (and 21 minutes of waiting, at the bike shop, the convenience store, and traffic lights)...

With the end of the river path I had to ride on city streets, but there wasn't much city this far north, so there was little traffic and few traffic lights, so I could continue unimpeded up into the mountains. Until now it'd been a continuous slight upslope toward the mountains, and I'd gained 65m elevation over the course of a leisurely 8.4km of distance... an average slope of just 0.8% (80cm rise over 100m distance).

5.8km (and 100m of elevation gain) later, I was quite in the mountains...

Prior to really diving into the mountains there had been a steep rise followed by a steep descent, the latter during which I could rest, but that had been a few minutes prior to the above photo, and the road offered no further rests until the pass 560m higher up, so if I wanted to rest I had to stop.

But not yet.

The village of Kurama is wedged in a narrow valley along a road that rises briskly (5.2% slope) toward the Kurama Onsen (Kurama Hot Spring) at the far edge of town, with a river in the backyard of those on one side of the road...

That was the last civilization I'd see for a while... moments later, the road looks like this:

I continued on the increasingly steep grade for another 15 minutes before I took my first rest. Luckily, modern technology existed to let me know that it was cold.

Finally, at a rare wide spot in the road, I put my foot on the ground for the first time in an hour, having gone non-stop for 17.5km and 435m of elevation gain...

I was tired. The average for the last 15 minutes was an 8% grade, and I was increasing elevation at a rate of almost 15m/min. Not only was the first time since I owned the bike that I needed to use the lowest of its 27 gears, but that's where I stayed most of the time. The resulting speed (7mph) was not much faster than a mild jog, but at least I was moving.

I was worried that I would have a hard time getting going again after a break. I used to do a lot of running when I was a teenager, and found that if I needed to rest I shouldn't stop completely... I should at least keep walking... because if I stopped completely, it was very hard to get going again.

But a different kind of exercise and three decades later, it turned out that the four-minute rest did wonders, and I hit the road with renewed vigor.

A few minutes later I stopped again, but not to rest... this time it was to take my first proper photo of the trip...

The road was getting steeper... the next 5 minutes to the next photo was up an average 11% grade...

The reflection of the road in the mirror gives a hint at the ridiculous steepness here...

The road curves up from behind the snow behind me on the left, and up again above to the snow behind me on the right.

Continuing around that steep rise, I'm greeted with yet another lovely view of snow-frosted trees..

A few minutes after this, I stopped to take the photo that leads this post.

I was shocked to see the pass come so soon. I was tired, but not wiped out as I thought I'd be. I thought I still had a long way to go.

I used my iPhone to take a front-camera selfie with the intention to send it to the Cycling group on Facebook, but I had no cell reception there. But here it is.

All in all it was 22.7km (14.1 miles) from the start. It took 1 hour 27 minutes of cycling plus another 9 minutes of rest sprinkled throughout the last three kilometers. I'm sure a fit person could have done it in well under half the time. It took me an even 60 minutes from Ichihara to the top... a run that's been done by someone in the Cycling Kyoto group in 33 minutes. (I guess I should at least be pleased that my time wasn't double the best. 😉 )

(21 minutes of the “Time Resting” was the bike shop, the convenience store, and a couple of traffic lights before hitting the river.)

Except for my shoes, which left my toes a constant cold the whole way, my clothes were perfect and I felt neither hot nor cold.

Of course, the real test would be the next half hour as I coasted down the other side of the mountain. The strong breeze from the wind would cool my accumulated sweat considerably, and the lack of effort to coast down would not allow my body to heat itself back up again, so I'd find out how prepared I really was.

I felt good having done the 23km to get this far, but it was less than ¼ of the total route that I intended to do for the day, so I still had much before me.

Continued here...