Okinawa: Tour De Okinawa (or, Okinawa de Tour) Part 2: The Ride

Overall, the experience was brutal.  I intentionally did not type this until several days after the experience, because if you asked me about it when I got off the bike, you would not have gotten much out of me but a blank stare.  Indeed, after I dismounted my bike at my in-laws' home, I handed them my panniers, said nothing, and went straight to the shower, turned on the cold water, and sat underneath for 20 or so minutes, fully clothed in my cycling costume.

Day 1: From Nishihara to Ikei Jima

Red = Day 1. Green = Day 2. Blue = Day 3.

This was a walk in the park.  I knew the route well, as I had done most of it on one of my warm up sessions, and of the three legs of my trip, this was the shortest.  Most of it was flat, and there were no navigational challenges.

The clouds were out, the breeze was blowing, and I was cruising through mostly neighborhoods on the way to the Katsuren Peninsula.  Once I got there, I knew I'd have to climb some hills, but they were small, few, and known commodities to my legs.  I took my time, marveled at manhole designs along the way, and generally was feeling pretty good about myself as a cyclist.

I was wearing a short sleeved cycling jersey because of the clouds (less of a chance to get scorched as I had in days past), and had the pannier covers on the bags just in case some rain started falling.  Early on in the ride I realized that affixing my speakers to my bar bag mounting brackets was better that sticking it in my bar bag, and keeping the top flap wedged open to let the sound out.  These were the types of things I had on my mind, easy as my ride was.

The west end of the Katsuren Peninsula is where the climbing began, but it was short.  My plan was to go to a taco truck, of sorts, that I know about to get some Okinawa Soba for lunch.  It was a little off course, but the Soba is great, and so were the folks who work there.  However, by the time I got over the hump of Katsuren, I was way, way ahead of schedule.  The Soba stand would never be open that early, so I skipped it and detoured on a very small island that is apparently home to some sort of historical site.  I had never gone there before, I had time, and my legs were fresh, so what the heck?

It was short lived.  I crossed the bridge, rounded a corner, the pavement turned to dirt, and the dirt road forked 5 different ways obviously intended for farmers to navigate to their fields by.  The thing I love about my Trek 520 and its beefy tires is that I'm never really concerned about terrain or bumps.  This beast can take a hit, and is not afraid of a little mud and gravel.  But the roads didn't appear to be going anywhere, if even if they did, it seemed like more trouble than it was worth.  So, I turned around, and went back to my original course, taking me across the Kaichu Bridge Road.

About a third of the way across this bridge is a rest stop/viewpoint area complete with public washrooms.  It was well timed, because I needed to...wash up.  I did not want to dehydrate on this trip, so I was swilling the Acquarius (Japan's version of Gatorade, found in every vending machine, on every corner in every community and neighborhood in Okinawa - no kidding.  There's no excuse for not drinking enough in Okinawa.  If you have money, you'll never lack access to liquids.)

The other part of my cycling costume this day was cycling knickers that have the shoulder straps and go half way down my calves.  For those of you who are familiar with these types of knickers, its not easy for a guy to ... wash up.  It's a bit of a process, but in the public washroom that was vacant, I was able to take care of business in no time.

Back on my donkey, I got to Henza Jima just in time for the rain to start falling.  It came down a bit while I was tooling around in some of the neighborhoods, again, killing some time.  I ducked into an open garage, stowed my speakers in my bar bag, and stashed my shades in there as well.  The cloud passed, and I went on my merry way, heading to the Hamahiga Island Bridge (yet another time killing detour).

Just as I got on the road to the bridge, the heavens opened again, and this time the rain stuck around for a while.  But this time, as with the last, I found a convenient shelter just in time.  This one was a covered area in a park abutting the bridge.  I took this as an opportunity to pull out my iPhone and take a short video of my status, eat some bread, and drink some Acquarius, and chill out.  On this point, I need to make a point.  I brought an old fashioned journal and pen with me to capture my thoughts and ponderings along the way.  But I found that I captured most of that on my iPhone with either photos or videos.  Something to think about on your next tour.  I carried unnecessary weight.

Eventually, the rain stopped, and I got going across the bridge to Hamahiga Jima (Jima = Island), and quickly found a covered Soba stand to grab some lunch at.  When offered water, I presented one of my empty water bottles to the old lady who was serving me.  She was very kind, and came back with it filled up ... with something brownish.  It looked like bad well water, but after a small sip, I knew it was mugicha (wheat tea).  It tastes like dirt, but it really cools you down inside, quickly.  She asked about my other water bottles, and while I needed those filled too, I didn't offer them because I really wanted water so I could drop some Nuun tablets in.  But I didn't want her to think that I was ungrateful for the mugicha, so I passed, and thought to get water later.

I took about an hour, or so, exploring the island and diving for shelter every so often when ridiculous storms passed by. I spent some quality time straddling my bike in a public washroom, avoiding a couple storms.  After 3 scorching days the previous week doing training rides, the slight inconvenience of dark clouds and periodic rain delays was welcome.

Crossed back over the bridge and got back on schedule heading north on the east coast of Henza Jima, up to Miyagi Jima and just as I left Yonashirotobaru (the village on the southern part of the island), the heavens opened again and never stopped.  There was no place to hide either.  I spent a few minutes under a tree limb, but that was hopeless.  I was going to get soaked one way or another, so I sucked it up, and peddled out in the thundering down pour - much to the amusement of the motorists driving by.

It was refreshing.  I was hopeful that because of the intensity of the rain and the thoroughness of my drenching I might actually lose some stink I had collected along the way.  It was also too darned wet to pull out my iPhone and make sure I wasn't taking the wrong roads.  But, the Force was with me, and I made it to my destination, noting a few alternate camping locations just in case.  "Just in case" because when I called these folks earlier (a small little beach resort that allowed beach camping...and had showering facilities for about $10), they said they close for bad weather.

I got there just as they were battening down the hatches, and shutting things down.  No camping on the beach, they firmly told me.  I started thinking about a tunnel the road took through part of the previous island as a good place to stay the night.  Seriously, it was covered (dry), had a shelf, of sorts about waist high with more than enough room for me and my bike, and a safe location, believe it or not.  The only thing it didn't have was privacy (don't want a cop driving by and noticing my bivy sack and bike up there in the middle of the night, and kicking me out).

As I sat there, pondering my options, I was more than happy to sit there as long as they would let me take shelter under their awning.  They were hustling to and fro, taking down beach umbrellas and chairs, stashing them in storage lockers etc., so I walked around a little to look at stuff.  Noticed a few bungalows off to the right near the beach, and asked if I could rent one of those.  Long pause..., but they offered me a small discount on the regular price, then told me, they're shutting everything else down.  I coughed up the cash, and they left.  No kidding.  They locked down everything (including the showers), and left.

The storm had passed.

I dove inside the small room I rented, unloaded my bags to find a few things moist (see my gear review for further information on this), at which point I noticed everything fell silent.  I opened the curtains to find that the clouds had parted, the sun was out (but setting), and the wind had died.  Dry and warm, I pulled out my iPhone with movies on it, plugged it into my Goal Zero speakers, and watched Rear Window while I charged all of my other devices through my Anker USB charger.

Then I slept.

Day 2: From Ikei Jima to Kouri Jima

If you look at a map of Okinawa and can find Ikei Jima, then follow the road down south toward the Katsuren Peninsula, circle around and up the east coast of Okinawa past Ishikawa, Kin, and Ginoza, you can see that you more or less do a near complete lap or circle.  You almost end up where you started, but for some water between where you started and where you ended up.  But there I found myself, straddling my 520, chewing on a Strawberry Cliff Shot Block, staring at Ikei Jima with some level of disbelief.  So close, yet so far away.  There were a lot of hills on the route so far, and I hate hills.

But I had many miles in front of me, and these were unknown miles.  I'd never driven any of the roads ahead of me to Kouri Jima, but I did know I'd have to cross a mountain range at some point to get from the east coast to the northwest town of Nago, then north to the islands.

Rockin' the long sleeves.

The heat was out.  Around noon I looked at the heat index on my phone and it read 108f.  The long sleeves were on from the get go, and they were definitely protecting my arms from bursting into flames.  I slathered my face, neck, and a mid calves in SPF 50, and wondered to myself what happens to Nike Dry Fit shirts when there's just as much moisture on the outside as the inside?

No matter, I soldiered on - which seems to be the appropriate phrase, since I was peddling through heavy American military base areas.  The ride was long and monotonous.  There really were no neighborhood streets I could take up the east coast.  Just a fairly quiet country highway going through one town after another.  But this is where the tunes came in handy.  It really did help the miles go by, and keep my morale in fairly good spirits.  

I've watched Bear Grylls programs enough to know how highly he values morale as a survivor's best asset.  And I believe it.  Time and again throughout this trip, when I was getting bored, tired, or unmotivated, I found something to lift my spirits.  A cold can of Acquarius, some tunes, or just taking a short break and checking with my wife via text.  Those little things put a little juice in my legs, and kept me going.

The further north I got, the more and more I was looking forward to the sharp turn west taken by highway 329 that signified the crossing over the mountain range.  What I was genuinely worried about was that mountain range would be one of those false summit after false summit type rides.  When, even though you've passed the summit, you still do a lot of up and down hill climbing, gradually working your way back down to sea level.

So, you can imagine how thrilled I was when I hit what I correctly thought was the summit, then glided down, down, down into Nago (at sea level) with not a single uphill slope on my way down.  In addition to that thrill, I was greeted at the entrance to Nago by a Blue Seal Ice Cream Shop.  Oh the joy!

And this is when I realized how badly I stank.  Holy cow, I felt bad for the ice cream gal who had to serve me.  My stink was unbearable for me.  I can't imagine what she thought.  And this is the point that I began to be more strategic about where I ate.  I didn't want to stink up everyplace I went to, so I decided to limit myself to restaurants that had outdoor seating.  So, after I meandered north through Nago, and up to Yagaji Jima, I found a little snooty place just before the bridge to Kouri Jima (my destination) with outdoor seating, and the best darned chicken I've had in ages.  When I took the first bite, I was immediately reminded of a scene out of the movie Ratatouille when the restaurant critic took a bite of the ratatouille.  Wow, that was good.

Eventually, I made my way to the beach I had spotted on Google Earth on Kouri Jima that I thought I could camp at.  There were a few people snorkeling in the cove, but it was pretty quiet, and I found a corner behind some bushes to stash my bike, set up my bivy sack, and change into my swim suit.  Into the water I went, and I swam around until I got bored.  I did bring my swimming goggles with me, so I got to check out many cool fishies under water.

I got out, dried off, changed into somewhat clean clothes for the night, and realized that by jumping into the ocean, I didn't exchange one stink (sweat/B.O.) for another (dead fish and seaweed).  Rather, I combined the two.  Oy!

So, sleeping on the beach seems like a great idea.  Especially in a small and compact bivy sack.  Bad, bad idea.  1) Bivys don't breath very well.  If it is at all warm outside at night, you will sweat all night.  I sweat buckets that night.  2) The beach comes alive at night.  There were buggers of every kind, but the crabs were having a party on my legs (on top of the bivy) all night.  Do yourself a favor, and take a proper tent.  It will mean more weight, but it will also mean a decent night's sleep.

Day 3: From Kouri Jima to Nishihara

Because I got a lousy night's sleep, I had no reservations about getting up with the sun, and getting on the road.  I had a long way to go that day.  Three hours into the ride, I hit the first wall.  8:45 am, and the heat index was already 104 degrees.  I was tooled.  The rest of the day was going to be gaman, and I knew it.

So, I adopted a phrase (as I had numerous conversations with myself along the way) to never hurry while cycle touring.  Just don't be in a hurry.  Hauling 40+ pounds on a heavy bike is a bit like riding a road bike with your breaks on.  There's no point in hurrying, and since I had no juice left in me, I couldn't hurry anyway.  1 mile at a time.

The views were spectacular, and, for the most part, the sun was at my back.  And I took just about every opportunity I could to take a break and get out of the sun.

The west coast is fairly well populated by resort towns, so there's no shortage of quickie marts to get cold water at, so I was never low on fluids.  The challenge was getting some proper food fuel in me.  Power bars weren't doing it for me (I think I've given up on Cliff Bars.  They're better than most energy bars, but they still taste like flavored dirt.), and I needed to get some real food in me.  But I stank so badly, I had to find a place with outdoor seating - or, a place empty of other customers.

To my delight, I found a spacious lunch joint that was empty, and had the air conditioning blasting.  The menu had a calorie count next to each item, so I ordered the one with the most calories.  Ahh, beef.  And the sauce, there, in the little bowl was spectacular.  About the time I got done eating, a few other customers came in, so I went outside and layed down on one of the picnic benches for a few more minutes before continuing into Yomitan.

Yomitan is one endless hill.  Not an especially steep hill.  Just one that never seems to end.  Previously unfamiliar with Yomitan, I did not expect this obstacle.  It nearly drained my will to live, and it was at this point that my pocket wifi overheated and stopped working.  It was also around this time that I noticed I had a kink in my neck, as if I had slept on it wrong.  Surely, I did.  So, turning to my right to see traffic coming up behind me was nigh unto impossible.  But the proper meal had boosted my morale, so I kept peddling up that darned hill.

Somewhere along the way, I found a surf shop, and seeing that as an opportunity to take a break, I stepped inside to talk to the guy about rentals.  He asked if I surf much (yup), and if I've ever surfed Okinawa (nope).  Sorry, he told me.  We don't rent to folks who haven't surfed in Okinawa.  The reefs are dangerous, he told me.  But, dude, I replied in Japanese, I've surfed the North Shore in Hawaii.  I think that might qualify me.  Nothing doing.  I enjoyed a few more minutes of the air conditioning (he, as well as several others along the way, asked me about my ride, and all responded with some level of disbelief that I was doing it in this heat.) in the shop, then got back on my donkey and continued up the hill.

Downhill side of Yomitan hill.  Seems short.

For as much climbing that I did, the backside of the hill was remarkably short.  It's not that I got down the hill in no time (although, I did); rather, it wasn't nearly the hill I just climbed.  Not sure how that worked.  I found a gas station with a large shaded area, and thought to take a break there.  Noticed a plug outlet, so I asked the guys if I could sit in the corner (out of the way) and take a little break in the shade.  They were cool with that until I plugged in my wifi to charge and see if that's why it konked out.  It took them no time to come over to me and tell me that I could not use their outlet.  "But my GPS", I pleaded.  No dice.  I could use their shade, but not their outlet.  So, I used their urinal, then got back on my bike and continued past Kadena, through Chatan, Ginowan, and into Urasoe.

Urasoe was where I stopped on the stoop of an apartment building, layed flat on my back, and blindly emptied a bottle of water on my face.  That felt great.  It is also where I found a wifi signal that I used to ping my wife and let her know I was still alive (I had been radio silent for several hours).  She offered to come get me, but I had come too far to give up at this point.  The only thing that was between me and a long cold shower was Naha and Shuri - that dirty rotten Shuri hill.

And it just about killed me.  I won't say how many breaks I took going up that hill, but I peddled to the point that I thought I might have a problem, then stopped and rested.  Then peddled more, dumping more water on my head along the way.

If I had known how brutal the ride would have been, I probably would not have done it.  Then again, that's what I thought about summiting Mount Adams in Washington, but I'm glad I did it.  I won't do this ride again, but I'm so glad I did it.

A few lessons for the next tour:

1) long sleeves in the sun.  I don't need cycling jerseys.  Plain dry fit shirts are just fine.  Anything that would go in my jersey pockets will go in my bar bag.
2) take a proper tent.
3) go in the fall or spring, not in the summer or winter.  Cooler weather has to be better than the radical weight loss plan I completed on this tour.
4) work out proper meals more thoroughly.  I don't want to pack them, but bring some just in case I can't find a decent restaurant along my way.  Carrying a little extra weight is okay if it's fuel.

Okinawa: Tour De Okinawa (or, Okinawa de Tour) Part 1: Gear Review

So, this entry is mostly about cycle touring.  The good, bad, ugly, associated with the gear I used, and how I used it.  I've read blogs in the past about touring, and have found some of them helpful, so I feel to put down some thoughts for any other cycling tourist who might come to Okinawa.  Bear in mind, I'm a relative touring rookie.

Traveling with the Bike: I flew my Trek 520 with me as checked baggage on United Airlines.  Even though their website and customer service hotline told me it would cost me $200 each way to take my bike with me, the guy at the check in desk only charged me $100 (we'll see what they charge me for the return flight).  Maybe he was a cyclist and felt pity on me.  My flight took me through two layovers, and the last flight was on a partner airline.  The trick is to ensure that your bike is checked all the way to your final destination - that way, you don't somehow get dinged again by the partner airline when you take your bike off the plane for customs, then recheck it.

To pack my bike, I went to a nearby bicycle shop, and they gleefully gave me a cardboard box (one less for them to throw away).  I asked for the biggest one they could give me.  I found this video helpful in figuring out how to best pack it.  Now, for my bike, I had not only the 520, but also a few additional accessories.  Namely, Jandd Mountaineering front and rear pannier racks as well as some fenders (don't recall the brand, and don't want to go out into the rain and check).  So, in addition to taking off my front wheel, I also took off my front and rear racks, as well as my front fender.  From there, I followed the advice in the video, and took the handlebars off at the points she described.  Turned the forks 180 degrees, then inserted the loose handlebars (attached only by the brake and gear cables) like you can see she did at 3:18 of the video.  I tried other ways, but hers was the best way.  However which way you cram it in there, be sure there's a little slack in the cables for when things shift around in the box.  My trip computer cable did not survive the flight.

Once you've got your bike and parts (water bottle holders, toolbag, etc.) in there, as well as whatever else you may want to put in there, tape up the box pretty good with some duct tape.  Recognize that the TSA will do their number on it, but, in my case, they put their tape right over top of my tape to close it up again.  Be sure to weigh the box.  Probably depends on the airline, but you get dinged once for oversize.  You get dinged again for over weight (50 lbs, in most cases).

Additionally, you've gotta figure out how you're going to pump up your tires once you get to your destination airport.  You've got to let the air out of your tires so they don't pop on the plane, but can't take CO2 cartridges because those won't get past security.  I brought my old fashioned stand up pump with me, dismantled it and stuck it in the bike box.  My father-in-law met me at the airport, and took my bike box home with him after I reassembled it and rode it home from the airport.  You'll have to figure out how you're going to manage the box at the airport.  If you discard it, somehow, you'll need to rustle up a new bike box for the return flight.  Something to think about.

One other note.  I have never taken my pedals off of my bike in the 7 or so years I've owned it. I had to get someone at the bike shop to get them off for me.  But once I arrived at my destination and fished my bike out of the box to assemble it, I was able to put the pedals back on using a simple and small'ish crescent wrench.

Navigation: If you're like me, you want to stay off the beaten path as much as possible.  Highways are no way to travel on a bike when there are side roads through neighborhoods and villages.  I could go on and on about the cultural / experiential (if that's a real word) advantages of peddling down the streets where the locals walk about.  However, Okinawan neighborhood roads are bizarre, very confusing, and almost none go in a straight line.  But a few do, and you'll never find them unless the Force is your ally, or you have a mapping mechanism.  GPS beats hard copies in my opinion.

Rather than buying a GPS device, or renting one, I brought my iPhone 5s and rented a pocket Wifi device.  It was awesome, and worked just about everywhere on the island.  Where it didn't, a little common sense allowed me to figure out where I was (I also brought an old fashioned compass).  Also, in Japan there is an app that is commonly used called Line that allows you to text and make phone calls over the internet for free.  It's pretty cool, and works international as well.  So, if you go the iPhone route, download the Line App, connect with your significant other (who also must be on Line), turn off your cellular settings (so you don't get accidentally pillaged for international roaming), put your phone on airplane mode, but then enable wifi.  Connect to your pocket wifi, then you can text or call your friends and loved ones where ever they are (again, assuming your are connected with them through Line).  Your iPhone essentially works as a nearly complete iPhone, but without getting trashed by AT&T for international roaming (particularly brutal in Okinawa).  

But, for the purposes of our topic, here, the Apple Mapping function works brilliantly, and is only limited by your wifi signal.  Lastly, I also had a good old fashioned compass inserted into my bar bag's plastic sleeve (designed for paper maps, I suppose).  When in doubt, that compass always reassured me that at the least I was heading in the right direction.

Other Tech: I'm sure there are some purists out there on this matter who believe the wind and rain is your touring soundtrack, and I'm sure I will offend some of them.  Take this as my excuse - I'm a relative newbee to cycle touring.  I've been on a van supported tour of the San Juan Islands with some Boy Scouts - and that trip was awesome, but I had company, so no need for other forms of amusement.  On this trip around Okinawa, I was alone.  That's my excuse, and I'm sticking to it.

1) Goal Zero Guide 10 Plus Adventure Kit Solar Charger: This thing rocks, and absolutely necessary, in my opinion, to keep your phone charged, gps charged, wifi charged, bike lights charged, etc.  I also bought four "S-Biners" (10 lbs rated) to attach the solar panel to one of my panniers (more on panniers later).

Anker charging everything.

So, there are two options for charging devices with this thing.  One is to charge from the sun to the solar panels to your device (whatever that is).  This is the less effective method, I think, because when a thick cloud passed by, your you pass underneath a tree or beside a bus, or some form of shade, the panel shuts off, and the device will stop charging.  I found I had to unplug the charging cable, then plug it back in.  Then it would start charging again.  That's too much baby sitting for my taste.

Option two is to charge from the sun to the solar panel to the battery pack that comes with the goal zero product.  When I passed through shade, I never had to fiddle with cords. It would just resume charging until the battery pack was full.  Then, I would connect the battery pack direct to my device and charge the device (usually at night).

The only other gripe I have about this device package is that the battery pack does indicate when it is charging, and when it is really low on power, but it really gives you no idea of how much juice is left in it at any given point. I like a little battery icon that lights up in segments as it charges, or a little percentage indicator.  Something.  Otherwise, you really have no idea how much juice you gathered from the sun throughout the day.  It's just a guess.

2) Anker USB Charger: If you can find an electrical outlet ( US plugs are compatible with Japanese outlets), and you've got one of these chargers, you're golden.  With one outlet (in a McDonalds, an ice cream shop, or even a gas station), I was able to charge two iPhones, the Goal Zero battery pack (when there wasn't enough sun in the day to charge it), my pocket wifi device, and my speakers (will get to that in a moment). If you are desperate, park yourself in a bike shop (they'll understand - the gas station guys, in my case, did not understand, and asked me to unplug from their outlet) for a while and borrow one of their plugs, and buy a few power bars, or something, for their trouble.

Speakers attached firmly to the bar bag mounting brackets.

3) The Goal Zero Rock Out 2 Speakers: When I got my solar charger from REI, these came with them as part of a deal, of sorts.  I really didn't think much of them, but on the tour, I found them indispensable.  You can set them inside your bar bag (we'll talk panniers later) with the lid open, or you can use the elastic straps and hooks on the back of the speakers to attach them directly to your bike, somehow.  I did the latter, attaching them to my bar bag's mounting brackets.  I only listened to music about 20% of my ride, but that 20% was the time I needed a real morale boost, and the music really, really helped!

These speakers got a little glitchy toward the end of the trip.  For example, the play/pause and skip buttons wouldn't respond, but the volume buttons did, as well as the power button.  I figured this was because of some of the hard bumps I had on the road shook a few things loose, but once I got home and began fiddling with them again, the buttons worked just fine.  I think it was the extreme heat that was impacting the performance.  I think.

4) iPhones: We've already talked about using one iPhone for the purposes of GPS'ing, texting, and calling via Line.  I also used that iPhone (the 5s) for facebook, news, a few other apps, and for its camera.  I took a lot of videos and pictures along the way.  I wanted to have as much memory as possible for photos and videos, so I stripped everything else out, including my music.  That's where the second iPhone (a 4s) comes in handy.  Pulled every app off of it that I could, and crammed it full of music and movies.  Music good during the day rides, movies good for camping by yourself in the middle of nowhere at night.  You could, I suppose, get a large capacity iPhone to hold it all, but I liked having as much memory space flexibility as possible, and I also like fiddling with my 5s camera without having to unplug it from the speakers, etc.

Panniers: These can make or break your touring experience, believe.  I wouldn't have thought that until this tour.  Many swear by Ortlieb, but I believe in Arkel (with one minor caveat).  I have two T-42s, two T-28s, 1 small bar bag, 1 tailrider, and 1 seat bag for tools.  I like the Arkel bags because of the multiple pockets in each bag and for ease of getting into the main compartments.  Go to their website and their videos talk about this.  Also, (and this may be the case with other brands) they just worked out beautifully / in concert with my tech gear.

With the S-biners that I got, the solar panels attached perfectly and firmly to my tailrider loops.  The Speakers attached perfectly and firmly to my small bar bag's mounting brackets.  My iPhones fit perfectly in each of my small bar bag's side mesh pockets.  Easy access!  Everything fit just perfectly for my purposes and needs.  These little conveniences (or inconveniences) will make or break your touring experience.

The one caveat to the excellence of Arkel is waterproofing.  Now, my panniers are about 7 years old.  Not excessively used (sadly), but improvements to the design have most certainly been made since then.  The tailrider comes with a built-in cover that worked well. Everything inside was dry.  For the T-28s and 42s, you need to buy separately pannier covers.  Oddly, they are the same size.  They have elastic bands that you can cinch down with, but it seems really odd to me that Arkel doesn't (or didn't) make covers custom fit to the bags.  For the fully loaded T-42s, the covers barely (after a lot of tugging) fit around the edges.  The T-28s, on the other hand, had the covers flapping in the wind in all its glorious excess of space.  You can't get a cover for the bar bag.  It is very water resistant, but not waterproof.

My experience: thundering tropical downpour during one afternoon.  I might as well have been submerged. When I got to my destination, there were a few damp things inside my bags.  Nothing soaked, just damp.  Not sure how the water got in the bigger panniers (the bar bag was obvious - no cover), but somehow moisture got in there.  Nothing a little overnight hang drying can't fix (assuming you have a dry night / facilities to do that - I did).

So, with my models of Arkel panniers, with the covers, extremely water resistant, but not quite water proof.

Trek 520: My little donkey performed flawlessly.  I  made a few modifications from the stock model.  As noted earlier, I put on a stronger rear pannier rack, and added a front rack as well.  Also added fenders.  Switched out the saddle for a Brooks Saddle - which, incidentally, finally broke in on this trip (the one reason I'm grateful for the oppressive humidity here).  Also, when time came (about a year ago) to get new tires, I got some really burly Flack Jacket Tires with those kevlar inserts that go between the tires and the tubes to further protect against flat tires.

The gearing worked, the braking worked, pedals went in circles, no flats, and, well, everything worked fine.  What more can you ask of a bike?


All in all, with the exception of a few minor glitches with the speaker buttons, and the slight moisture that found its way into my panniers after the thundering downpour, everything, mechanically speaking, worked just fine.  The next blog entry will discuss how my touring experience got along.

Okinawa Days 7 & 8: Rest and Prepare

On the Seventh Day, I rested.  Went to church, saw a bunch of folks who remembered me, met a bunch of the senkyoshi's serving in Shuri, Naha Higashi, and Nago.  There were others; I just didn't ask where they were at.

On the Eighth Day, I took the knuckleheads to the zoo.  The Okinawa Zoo is pretty small; however, folks can get surprisingly close to the animals.  So, it was pretty cool, despite the absurd temperatures and humidity.

So, my plans for overnighting while on this bicycle tour was born out of a cycling blog I read about 8 years ago.  While communicating with some of the folks associated with it, I asked how people camp out.  The response was that you just go to a rural area, find a patch of dirt off the road, and set up.  Most folks in Japan, they insisted, don't care, so long as you're respectful, etc.  Right or wrong, that worked for me.  As I planned this trip, I got on google earth and found plenty of candidate locations near my target stopping points.

Day 1 (starting tomorrow - I'll be following the alternative plan detailed in an earlier blog) ends on Ikei Jima, and there's a small resort beach there. I was going to camp out on a beach (in a bivy sack) around the corner and down a little animal trail until I found out that the resort actually allows folks to camp on their site for really cheap, and they have showers!  I'll take that, as I'll be in desperate need of a shower.  Swimming around in the ocean (which I most certainly will do) just exchanges one stink for another.  Granted, I'd rather smell like dead fish and seaweed than sweat; but all things being equal, I'd rather not smell like either while I sleep.

I called the place to find out if I needed to book a camp site, or just show up, and they told me it's a day to day deal, depending on the weather.  If its bad, they're closed.  So, I'm going to have to have my wife call them tomorrow to kakunin a spot for me.  If they're closed for some reason, then it's back to my google earth options - of which there are some righteous ones.

So, I packed my bags today, went to the neighborhood Sanei to get some snack foods to tote along with me, and decided on a critical wardrobe issue.  I'm going with long sleeves.  My arms are already torched, and the sunscreen fades off to easily.  So, it will be warmer, but my arms won't burst into flames.  I think that's a fair trade.

Will see how that works out.

Okinawa Day 6: More Weight, More Miles

Katsuren (the peninsula) should not be mistaken for katsurei (the word for circumcision).  Nor should the word hitsujikai (shepherd) be mistaken for hitojichi (hostage).  Nevertheless, I made both mistakes many years ago on the Katsuren peninsula that juts out of the east coast of Okinawa about half way up to Nago from Naha.

Today, I thought to tool around.  Head up the east coast of Okinawa (a place I know very little about), and sorta meander about.  I threw on the full load of panniers (camping gear, etc.) and moseyed up to Katsuren making stops at just about every opportunity I could (to force myself to take it easy - I'm not very good at this).  I caught a few minutes of a little league game, stopped by a roadside ice cream stand manned by a very chatty 13 year old girl, and found a beach or two.  I had no intention of going around the peninsula, but before I knew it, there it was, so I peddled around it on the little narrow agricultural service roads that hugged the water - the beautiful water.

Southern coast of the Katsuren Peninsula.

Which reminds me of something - every Okinawan is a farmer to some degree or another.  Historically, it is very much a part of Okinawa, but as urbanization has taken over some parts of the island, you'll still see many small yards around homes surrounded by a variety of crops.  Many don't have lawns, they have rows of something growing.

But that's all beside the point.  The point is, once I decided to go around the peninsula, I was committed to it.  There was no backing out.  And if I was going to meet up with my wife at her friend's home down south later in the afternoon, I'd have to put some hustle into it.  And about the time I got around to the north side of Katsuren (around noon), hustle had left my legs.  I could still go at a modest pace, but there was no speed left in them.  Bummer, too, because the remainder of the ride was one hill after another.

There's a good story behind this rope, I'm sure.
I just couldn't find anyone who knew it.

However, I stopped at the sight of a shack of sorts with a plastic tarp roof coming off the side of it to provide a shelter for customer.  The sign said two words: Okinawa Soba. It's Okinawa's version of a taco truck situated across the street from a construction site.  I was not their target customer, but the server/greeter/cashier was both hysterical, and awesome.  She could not have been more engaging and helpful.  And this was not an example of typical superior customer service you come to expect in Japan.  She made me feel very much at home, introducing her 4 year old son to me, and me showing her pictures of my kids.  Good food and good times.

After eating, I peddled through Gushikawa, and back down through Okinawa-shi, Kitanakagusuku, Ginowan, to Urasoe.  Much more hilly than the coastline. It rained off and on during that return trek, and it was very much welcome.  While many went diving for awnings, I muddled on to meet my wife at her friend's place, arriving a stinking wet mess in an immaculately kept Japanese apartment.  After about an hour, I hopped back on the bike and mawaru'd back to Nishihara.

Trek 520 festooned with Arkel panniers.

Now, road cycling and touring cycling are not the same thing.  Many road cyclists I know have no idea what I'm talking about when I say I have a touring bike.  Mine is a Trek 520.  Built like a tank, but looks like a road bike with wider tires.  Compared to a road bike, super heavy.  A great donkey!  I've got an upgraded back pannier rack, and a front rack, with fenders. Then load it down with about 40 pounds of gear and tools, and bammo, you have a very heavy donkey to pedal around.  

Let's talk about panniers.  I choose Arkel for my journeys.  T-42s for the back, T-28s for the front, then a small bar bag on the handle bars, and a tailrider for the top of the back rack (slung across the top of the tailrider is my phone/pocket wifi charger solar panels - fits perfectly).  Slapping these suckers on your bike really changes the riding experience.  Added weight aside, then you do battle with the balance.  The bags also make for a great wind sail, so when the gusts come from anywhere other than front or back, you better have your wits about you, or you'll be blown into a curb at best, a car at worst.  Lastly, while having a bar bag is super convenient to stash things you want to grab while peddling, it's also a bit like having E.T. sitting on your handlebars.  

This is all to say that road cycling and cycle touring are two very different animals.

Toward the end of the ride, I was beginning to think that the purpose of doing a bicycle tour of Okinawa was to cycle all parts of the island.  And, in preparation for that, I've just about cycled the whole island south, and central, at least.  The only thing left is the north (the part I know the least).  So, right now, I'm considering my options, but may cut my planned ride by a couple days.

The original plan was/is as follows (routes all hug the coastline as much as possible):
Day 1 - Nishihara to Ikei Jima (north of the Kasturen peninsula)
Day 2 - Ikei Jima to Higashi-son (up near Nago, but on the east side)
Day 3 - Higashi-son to Nago (via going around the Motobu peninsula)
Day 4 - Nago to Itoman
Day 5 - Itoman to Nishihara

My potential new plan is:
Day 1 - Nishihara to Ikei Jima
Day 2 - Ikei Jima to Kouri Jima (the island just north of Nakijin)
Day 3 - Kouri Jima to Nishihara

We shall see.

Okinawa Day 5: The Wet Dry Run

So, being the professional desk jockey that I am, I am what one might call "not in shape." Certainly not in bicycle touring shape.  Be that as it may, I've never let being out of shape stop me from a good time.  But climbing that Shuri hill (by accident) on Wednesday put the fear of sloth into me.  I started to think that maybe doing 250 miles in 5 days was a bad idea.

But, I got a little faith in my legs back on Thursday by tooling around Naha and Shuri, so today (Friday), I thought I would put my legs to the test and do a 40 miler with more panniers on the bike.  Not a full load, but about 2/3 full.  So, I started in Nishihara to Yonabaru to Haebaru to Itoman to Gushikami to Tamagusuku to Chinen, to Sashiki to Yonabaru and back to Nishihara. It took me exactly 5 hours to complete, and I partook of 3 necessary kyukeis, and 2 unecessary kyukeis (one of which as lunch, the other at a righteous and shaded viewpoint of the ocean).  Lots of hills, so stop snickering about 40 miles being a test.  It was fairly tough.

Along the way, I got torched again by the sun.  I applied copious amounts of sun screen this time, but the 5 gallons of sweat coming out of every pore washed that away in no time.  I drank about 6 or 7 bottles of water or sports drink.  The soda machines are everywhere (and, for those who haven't been to Japan, "everywhere" is not an exaggeration), and they all sell a Japanese version of Gatorade known as Aquarius.  So, each of my three water bottles were refilled a time or two.  And moments later, most of that liquid intake dripped itself out of my pores onto the streets of southern Okinawa.

You think I kid.  I josh you not. The temps were mere mid-80s, but with the humidity, it had a heat index of 104 at the time I checked.  I saw many familiar sites as I went.  The apartment I lived in for several months, the new Itoman church building, the old Itoman church building, the Shimai apartment, some of the old routes to cross the island from the west side to the east side, and yes, some of those hills too.  How on earth I climbed those so often and so quickly on a mountain bike is beyond me.

I chatted with a few people along the way.  An Oba (old lady), a dude selling some wares at a tourist site I checked out, and, of course, the lady in the Katsu shop that I stopped in again at to have lunch (katsu curry).  And, got back just in time to get with the kids and wife to head down to the beach in Nishihara.  Ahhhhhh.....

My rides next week average 50 miles a day, Monday through Friday.  The way I figure, each day will only include a partial day of cycling, the rest of which will have to struggle through by swilling acquarius, swimming in tropical waters, and looking for the nearest oba store that sells Japan's righteous bread.

It'll be rough.

Okinawa Day 4: To Poncho or Not To Poncho

That was the question many years ago when I first arrived in Okinawa.  I was green, and unschooled in the ways of the Okinawan climate.  A few Mormon missionaries get assigned to serve in areas that include special packing instructions.  Mine, curiously, recommended I pack a poncho (not an overcoat).

So, sometime during my first week on the island the rain clouds came, and I put my poncho on. A few minutes later, I realized the conundrum faced by anyone on a bike in Okinawa.  If you wear some sort of waterproof barrier, you'll be wet from sweat.  If you don't, you'll be wet from rain.  Either way, you'll be wet, but with rain, at least, you don't stink as much.

As I flew down the hill on my bike (those many years ago), the poncho flapped so violently behind me that it ripped off and faded into memory, I really didn't think much of it because I already knew I'd never wear one again.  So, why on earth did I pack my gore-tex cycling jacket for this trip?

I don't know, but I had it stuffed in one of my panniers today as I climbed the Shuri hill (the easier route, this time), and blitzed back down the other side through Higashi to the back door of the Heiwa Dori shotens.  It dripped throughout the day, and when it got a bit heavy, I just ducked under the nearest awning and waited it out.  But, I think I came out of my ride today dryer than I did yesterday.  Today it was rain, yesterday it was sweat.

So, to the food.  Had some Okinawa Soba today on Kokusai dori.  That's where my wife and kids and I met up, and we had a good time there.  The Soba was righteous, of course, so I was quite pleased with that.  Earlier, while waiting for the fam to find me, I grabbed some sort of berry/chocolate cruller donut creation from Mos Burger.  The burger joint with the worst name ever came up with something pretty good.

Today also included some good wandering time through Shuri, Higashi, and Naha proper.  The Shuri apartment (lo, these many years later) appears to have been vacated by the missionaries.  Will have to look into that.  The hole in the wall (literally, just a closet) of a bike repair shop just down the road from the Okii Mart in Shuri where I got my chain replaced by a hammer swinging blind man (at no charge) is also gone (the Okii Mart, by the way, is now a Kanehide).  The building is gone too, I think, to make room for a widened road.  The Miwa Mansion (the name of the Higashi Apartment, and also, coincidentally, name of my wife - Miwa, not Mansion) is still there, and I also, almost by use of the Force (but aided a skosh by my iphone's GPS) found the back door to Heiwa Dori.

All good things.  So, too, was swinging by the Bridgestone shop on 58, and it's little annex a few blocks off the highway (which is a better shop than the main one).  Sogenji is still there, and so is the miracle behind it.

So, today was a nice contrast to yesterday.  Wet and a little cool.

Okinawa Day 3: Where the Streets Have No Name

Making a wrong turn in Okinawa can be a brutal and unforgiving mistake...when you're on a bike.  There are very few "through streets" that connect one neighborhood to the next, and one community to the next.  And none of them have names or distinguishing features (i.e. they are not wider than the narrow neighborhood roads, and they often don't have lights.  They look the same.).

I never served in Nishihara or Yonabaru.  I went on splits down there ("down" from Shuri), but always more or less followed someone else around.  But since the in-laws live in Nishihara, I have to learn my way around a little.

The plan was for me to run an errand in Haebaru, then meet with the wife and kids at a park built around a beach in Nishihara, Agarizaki-cho.  I knew roughly where the park was, and didn't have any trouble finding it, but finding the family was a bit more difficult.  (How dependent have we become on cell phones?).  So, I sat there for an hour, playing with my Goal Zero solar phone charger (I highly recommend this).

It is, at this point, that I must confess that I actually did have a smartphone with me, and a pocket hotspot, and as such had full access to GPS capabilities.  Which either proves the point that the road system in Okinawa is completely incomprehensible...or I'm a complete navigational  moron.

So, I downloaded a few songs, updated my facebook status, and did various time killing activities until it was obvious that I missed them, somehow.  Perhaps they went to a different park somewhere else.  Who knows?  I was hungry, so I went to a little dive on 329 (one of the few roads that has a name/number) kiddie corner from the Yonabaru McDonalds and got some katsu curry.  A heaping helping of it.  For just a 5 hyaku.  I may have to go back.  

Not only because the food was remarkably good and cheap, but also because I like being the only gaijin in any place - walking with my kids in my in-law's neighborhood, or hanging out in a katsu shop that no gaijin has any business being in.  There's something very satisfying about being the outsider, knowing the inside game (how to order from the meal ticket machine, being able to shaberu with the cook, etc.).

Fully charged with some rib-sticking man food, I hopped on my donkey of a bike and started peddling for home.  And this is where I made my wrong turn.  There's a fork off a main'ish road that I was looking for to get me on the right path back home, and I mistook the fork in the road. Long story short, I ended up in Shuri/Urasoe next to Ryudai, which, for those of you who are familiar, is the most brutal and unforgiving option to get up to Shuri.  Upon return to home after the detour, I pulled up google maps on the computer to see how I went off course...and much to my dismay, I noticed that at one point I was less than 0.5 miles away from my home and didn't know it.  I continued to the route I did know, and went through Shuri, past the Shuri apartment, and back down the hill.

I was totally spent.  But, after several hours of laying around and recovering, I'm feeling much better...but for the righteous bicycler's tan/burn that I got on my arms and legs.  Ouch!  

Sunscreen next time.

Okinawa Day 2

So, we went to Gyokyusendo.  These days it is known as Okinawa World, a full blown theme park complete with bus loads of obnoxious tourists.  I won't say which country these obnoxious folks were from, lest I be accused at some point of being prejudiced, but in all of my days of interacting with people from other cultures, I have never been as obnoxiously inconvenienced by folks like this before.  They were...obnoxious.

(Partly because the Okinawans as a people are very meek and gentle, and partly because I want to represent my home country well, I try to go out of my way to not be the "ugly, loud American."  Well, my fellow Americans, you no longer need to worry about being the tourist everyone else hates.  Because these folks...wow.  It's as if they went out of their way to be obnoxious.)

Anyhoo...for all of you animal rights activists out there, they've discontinued the Cobra vs. Mongoose fights at the snake park (part of Okinawa World).  I'm okay with that.  Seemed a bit cruel to me, even when I was an ugly American.  We spent most of our time going through the caves, then wrapped up our time by watching an Eisa demonstration.

The bike was an ongoing concern for me throughout the day.  It found its way to Tokyo, but the folks at the airline were very non-committal about whether or not there would be room on the plane from Tokyo to Okinawa.  It was a good thing that my wife was talking to them, because I probably would have lost my patience with the absurdity of the situation.

It did arrive late at night, and I picked it up at the airport, went about assembling it, and dumped the box in my father-in-law's car.  A few notes from that ride: I should have tried to take it on the Monorail, and ridden that up to Shuri, leaving me a breezy ride downhill to the house.  I didn't.  I rode through Naha (down Kokusai Dori - which would have been a lot more amusing if I wasn't hustling so much), up the brutal hill known as Shuri.

My light for my bike was low on juice, much to my surprise.  So, the only function that worked was the flashing light.  This is good in the city, where the function of a bike light is more to be seen, than to see.  But not so good in those rural parts (the last leg of my ride) where there are no street lights, very few cars, and, in this case, a fast ride down a steep hill.  Now you see the road, now you don't see the road.  Worse than that, because of the blindingly bright bursts of light, my eyes just couldn't adjust very well, so I was more or less blind for that part of the ride.

Lastly, my rear fender was rubbing my tire.  I don't know if it was because I had just assembled my bike in the dark, and was now riding that through town with little to no light, but I had the feeling that my bike just wasn't...tight.  As if everything was just a little loose.  But, alas, I made it back to the house, didn't get lost, and committed to take most of the bike apart the next morning and reassemble it in proper light, taking my time.  I felt like I got away with one with that night ride.

Okinawa Part 2

It's wet here.  Stepping outside the automatic doors a the airport to get to my father-in-law's car felt a bit like stepping into a sauna.  And I'm not overstating this either.  A wave of mist-like moisture hit me.  The temperature was not all that hot, but the moisture was definitely there.

Now, for those of you who are familiar with my trip plans, you may be wondering why a car was involved in my airport routine to begin with.  In short, someone at United Airlines baggage handling in O'Hare thought not to put my bike on my connecting flight to Tokyo.  It took me some time to sort that out in customs at Narita, and even now, I'm not all that certain what's going to happen next.  It very well could be on today's plane from Chicago to Tokyo, but I can't confirm that until the folks at United's customer service desk here in Japan wake up.

So, we'll see, here, in a few minutes whether or not the bike is on its way, and whether or not it will arrive in Okinawa tonight, to be delivered to my parents-in-law's home tomorrow morning.  If so, I will put it back together, and start peddling around a bit.

Many of you may recall that this is my second time back to Okinawa since my LDS mission back in the 90s.  The last time I came here (about 4 years ago) it was winter, and much less humid.  I also got an opportunity to thoroughly revisit most of my mission sites.  Old apartments, church buildings, and notable McDonalds locations.  So, as we cruised from the airport to home last night, I felt a distinction between this visit and last.  This one is more...routine.  If that's the word.

My urge is not to go to all of those places.  This time, I want to cycle to places - grocery store, bike shops, surf shops, soda machines, etc.  Really, it doesn't matter where I go.  I just want to navigate on my bike all over the island.  I want to spend time really embracing the mundane, cruising around in the neighborhoods, catching plenty of good whiffs of the odor wafting from the drainage systems along the sides of the roads.  I want to cycle tour around the island,  as well, hugging the coastline as I go.  That will be next week.  This week, my plan is to spend time with the wife and kids, the in-laws, and peddle around just enough to warm my legs up for next week, make sure I put my bike back together correctly, and perhaps meet my family at various parks and places that they plan on going to this week.

That's assuming, of course, I actually get my bike.