I bet that headline got your attention. It’s not as salacious as it sounds. Stick with me for another paragraph or two to see what I mean. Early in November I took an overnight tour to Makuhari in Chiba with my friend, Mario. 

Every year there is a huge bicycle convention called Cycle Mode in Makuhari Messe, a very slick convention center in Makuhari Chiba, about a half hour ride or so from Tokyo Disneyland. Hundreds of bicycle and bicycle adjacent companies gather to pimp their wares on the hapless bicycle freds of Japan. If you don’t know what I mean by fred check out the now retired Fredcast podcast. Anyway, there were lots of gratuitous carbon fiber and brightly colored bicycle gadgets. There are quite a few events that occur in conjunction with Cycle Mode. One of those events is a cyclocross race at the nearby mountain bike and BMX park. 

Mario and I struck out Sunday morning after kitting out his bike with my spare rack and panniers.  We made great time rolling through the Musashino area of Tokyo Prefecture. The second worst thing about riding to Makuhari in Chiba is that you have to cross the breadth and width of central Tokyo. Both Mario and I are veteran Tokyo road warriors so we know all the least worst roads in Tokyo to cycle on. At least, when it comes to the western half of the city. There is a fairly large gray area on our mental maps once we get past the center of the circle formed by the Yamanote Line. I have ridden east of the Yamanote circle only twice before. And there is where we find the worst part of riding to Makuhari. A little section of road that passes through a suburb called Ichikawa. I’m sure (at least I think I am sure) that there are nice places in Ichikawa but the most direct route from my house to Makuhari doesn’t take me through those parts. Instead, it takes through the industrial part where there are factories, malls and bad traffic. 

Once Mario and I got out of the snarl that is Ichikawa and Funabashi the ride got more pleasant. Unfortunately, by that time we were almost to our destination. Makuhari Messe is a world class convention center with its modern design, surrounding hotels, upscale restaurants, sports stadium and mid sized train station but you wouldn’t know it from the bike path a few kilometers away. The hotels and office buildings grew in stature above the trees as we drew bearer. 

Despite telling Mario the plan for the weekend. he was still pleasantly surprised when we got to the mountain bike park. I should mention that Mario is Italian. I guess that much could be guessed by the name. His mamma and papa didn’t call their baby boy Mario because they met at a Donkey Kong arcade. Mario swears that he neither speaks nor understands English. However, he is a capable speaker of Japanese, albeit with a Kansai accent with occasional relapse into Italian. So, all our communication is in Japanese. No doubt, Japanese who hear us talking find it entertaining; two foreigners speaking Japanese. What’s wrong with them. Why aren’t they speaking English? Anyway, this lack of a common native tongue between us may contribute to Mario’s not fully grasping the full scope of our adventure until it happened. That is it’s own sort of fun. 

The races had been going on all day but we only got there just in time to enjoy some exotic beer and watch the final race. A short word about cyclocross for the uninitiated. Cyclocross is not as we’ll known as road racing or even mountain bike racing. It is like the love child of passionate moment between road racing, BMX, mountain bike racing and a parade at Disneyland while parkour ate popcorn and watching on the sidelines. The racers follow a course tha includes pavement, some offroad tracks, up hills and dismounting occasionally to life their bicycle over obstacles.

My plan for camping was to set up our tents in the mountain bike park. The sun set as the winners we’re making their speeches on the podium stage. It was a bit too crowded to set up our camp so we got back on our steel steeds to search for a convenience store to get some food for breakfast and a beer or two to wash down our pasta. By the time we got back to the park it was good and a dark. The race organizers were winding down their clean up activities. We found an out of the way place to cook our pasta. By the time we were done eating we had the park to ourselves. We set up our tents and I enjoyed a bit of hot chocolate (appropriately seasoned with crime de menthe). We talked until about 9 when the rain that was threatening all day told us it was time to retreat to our tents. 

Day 2

It rained steadily until about midnight. I hunkered down to watch a video or two on my iPad. Sometime during the night my head started to hurt and I was feeling a bit queasy. This happens to me sometimes while camping. I took some Ibuprofen and donned my raincoat for a stroll around the park. I eventually felt better and got a few hours sleep. 

I discovered during my midnight perambulation that we were camped a few hundred yards from the ocean. It was just out of sight beyond some trees and thick brush.

Mario and I ate our breakfast and broke camp while the race organizers showed up to do one more sweep of the grounds to pick up trash.

A visit to Bicycle Mode was on the agenda for the day. But before going to Makuhari Messe we took a ride along the beach bike path to find a geocache. 

Cycle Mode is a yearly bike convention that is held in Tokyo and Osaka. Bicycle manufacturers, bicycle accessory sellers and other of purveyors of cycling adjacent goods and services congregate to peddle their wares to the unsuspecting bicycle geeks of Japan. The vendors come from around Japan and even overseas. There is also an indoor demo course where visitors can borrow the latest bikes for a test ride. There is also a bike school for kids where they can get free lesson on two-wheeling and try out a variety of different types of bicycles. I think one of the most interesting displays were by various regions in Japanese promoting their prefecture as a cycling destination. The free cycle maps and brochures prodded my inner desire to travel farther afield looking for adventure.

Mario is an outgoing type and is quick to strike up a conversation with strangers. As we passed a booth displaying bicycles from an Italian brand he suddenly starts chattering with a Japanese salesman in Italian. It turns out, the fellow used to be Mario’s boss a few years ago. What struck me was that Mario was not at all surprised that he would meet someone he knew in a strange city 60 kilometers from home.

Here’s where we come to the not-really salacious part of the trip. Bicycle manufacturers brought their best to the show. I am a sucker for bicycles that are somewhere on the path less pedaled. I didn’t notice any wooden bicycles this year but I saw a bicycle with a frame made from bamboo that was absolutely intriguing. I also saw a bicycle that had a very steam punk-like vibe to it. Looking at it made me image riders with long black coats, aviator goggles and a Victorian London accent. I thought the longbox cargo bike was fascinating. There was a section dedicated to vintage and handmade bicycles too. I will ride almost anything at least once. Unfortunately, the most unusual and unique bicycles were for display only. One brand that both Mario and I found very fetching was Bruno. This European company makes a very attracting small wheel bicycle. This type of bicycle is called a mini velo. In most cases the frame is a regular road bike-like configuration. Perhaps, slightly smaller that average with small 20 inch wheels. The company makes a very a sexy versatile, mobile bicycle. Finally, I would guess that at least a quarter of the bicycle vendors offered electric assist bicycles in their catalog.

Many of the bicycles were priced way out any normal person’s bicycle budget. Most of us can only fantasize and lust over such bicycles from a distance. The show seemed a lot smaller in scope and a good deal less crowded than previous years. It feels like cycling has been booming the last few years but maybe the boom hasn’t translated into more bicycle sales.

We stayed a couple hours at Cycle Mode, ate some lunch in the food court and then hit the road to return. The ride home was uneventful with the exception of a detour to visit Funabashi Shrine. Mario has a hobby similar to geocaching. He visits Shinto shrines to get a goshuin stamp. Many of the larger shrines offer visitors to put their official stamp (goshuin) into a book specifically intended for the purpose. These books are just a fancy cover enclosing blank white pages. The stamps are the official seal of the temple. The shrine priest, caretaker or other shrine official will sign the books in very pretty calligraphy. The stamp and the signature  only costs a few hundred yen. After the shrine we hid the road again. We took a break somewhere in central Tokyo at Mini-stop convenience store. Other than those two short stops we pedalled straight home.

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Day -2
The first leg of my journey is almost over I am the Hiawatha Amtrak heading north from Chicago to Sturtevant, WI. So far, everything has gone as planned. 

I forgot how boring international flights can be. Sure there is the inflight movies which are pretty great these days. New, bright screens and streaming service so you can watch any of the available movies at any time during the flight. I could binge watch some great movies but you still get the feeling that you are only watching movies because you have nothing else to do.

My experiences going through customs, security and immigration at various airports was mostly uneventful. At Narita, the security staff took a particular interest in my backpack. I think the shape of the tent and my multipurpose-function bike light/speaker and phone mount made them nervous. They opened up the pack and examined everything I had in there then returned it to me with a thanks and I continued on my way. In Detroit, where I had to change planes, I went through security and customs again. This time the security people weren’t interested in my backpack but my waist pouch containing all of my camera equipment was deeply interesting to them. It was jammed packed with spare batteries, old iPhone-cum-cameras and other assorted cables and peripherals. Really too much stuff. The TSA agent took out each item in the bag and wiped each one down with a tiny cloth. I assume he was looking for explosives residue. When he was satisfied he did his best to put everything back in. I remarked that it was easier to take it out than to put it in. My transfer in Detroit went smoothly and I made it to my gate with time to spare. 

The flight from Detroit to Chicago was just long enough that I started to doze off when the plane touched down at O’Hare. The plan was to take the local commuter train to Union Station to catch the Amtrak. There was a train leaving at 5 and a train at 8. It wasn’t really at all likely that I would be able to catch the 5 o’clock train. I got lost in O’Hare airport so wasted a bit of time getting myself straightened out. I eventually found my way to the CTA terminal of the Blue Line. The train ride to Union Station was about an hour. I had about 2 hours to kill before the Amtrak left for Sturtevant. Enough time to buy my ticket, go to the nearest AT&T shop to get a prepaid SIM for my phone, get dinner and find a geocache. The timing worked out just right.

I really enjoyed the train ride from O’Hare to Union Station. At first, I didn’t really feel like I was in the city but after awhile I really started feeling the city. The most impressive thing was the fantastic graffiti. Especially the section between Logan Square Station and California Station. It should be sanctioned as art and encouraged. Most of it was just that good. I also enjoyed watching the other people on the train and wondering about their lives.

A curious incident did occur on the CTA train.  I pulled out my phone to queue up a podcast and play a game. An airdrop message popped up. Some device named NSA wanted to transfer a rude picture to me. I declined to accept. I felt that I was now truly in the dangerous city. 

The ride on the Amtrak was pleasant and the sunset was beautiful. When I got off the train my sister and her partner were waiting for me.

Day -1
My folks brought me up to Sturgeon Bay after having a fun breakfast with my two aunts down in Sturtevant. On the way, we stopped at a outdoor and sporting goods store called Cabela’s in Green Bay. I only wanted to get some decent rain gear because, based on the weather forecast, it looks very much like I will be riding in rain during at least part of the tour. The store was fantastic. It was like stepping into a museum of natural history. There were taxidermy animals in dramatic tableaus all around the store. And the store was ginormous. I could have spent hours there looking at all the great camping gear. It is a good thing that I kept myself focused on my mission to get decent rain gear, otherwise, it would have been financially devastating.

In Sturgeon Bay I was hooked up with my ride for the week. A Maxim full suspension mountain bike. It has a rack on it and one water bottle cage. No water bottle. I didn’t bring one will me either for the reason I mentioned before. I couldn’t fit a bottle full of air in my overstuffed bags. I installed my multi-purpose iPhone holder/speaker/light onto the handlebars and lowered the seat. I added a motorcycle license plate that I found in Japan while geocaching just for fun. I took the bike for a short test ride down to the end of the block. It will probably take me a few kilometers to get used to the shorter wheelbase and sponginess caused by the suspension. I think I will be okay with it. If not, it is going to be a very loooong week.

Facebook (fake news), too many news websites. I was more optimistic about the world when I was ignorant. I insulated myself from world events by living in Japan. Not being a resident of the U. S. it was easy to ignore events so far away and not able to really participate in local elections, Japanese politics were easy to ignore too. But lately, what I hear on both sides of the Pacific Ocean and in Europe disturbs me. Particularly what I hear about in the U.S. is frightening. It seems like everyone is against everyone else. There is no honesty, integrity or will to work together. It would be easy to blame Trump but he is just as much a symptom as he is a cause. I am not sure I can find a place for myself in America anymore. I have issues with both the Right and the Left, but mostly the Right. I am worried that I have changed too much to find a comfortable place in America. There is just so much stupidity. This trip, I hope, will renew my faith that there are still plenty of people who aren’t raging racists or fanatical anti-fascists. I hope that I will get a chance to have some serious conversations with different kinds of people. I am not generally an outgoing person but I am going to try to find a way to talk to people on a real level.

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