Wildcat Canyon has been left to languish after half the road collapsed during a storm in March 2023. The problem is that it’s a county road and there’s been insufficient money to do a repair. Federal money is supposed to be coming to Caltrans and the county had said that construction will begin this spring and maybe be completed by fall. Keep in mind that construction schedules are works of fiction.

But I’m not grumbling about Wildcat being closed for this long. Why? Because it’s been closed to cars, not bikes, and since closure it has been heaven to ride. I wish the county would never repair this road! Initially when it failed everybody diverted to alternate routes including cyclists. Well, one of those alternate routes is Lomas Cantadas/El Toyonal, which goes by our house. For about a week there were cyclists(and cars) thronging the road. This road, if you don’t know, is part of the Berkeley Hills Death Ride and for good reason: it’s 3.5 miles long and most of it is 10+% grade with significant chunks above 12% and a maximum of about 18% in at least two locations. So most cyclists don’t like to ride up the road. The only other nearby alternate route is to use Highway 24. (Yes, cyclists may ride on the shoulder of 24 from Orinda to Fish Ranch Road.) Then someone realized that the road failure on Wildcat left just enough roadway for bikes to get by and no one was doing any enforcement. All the bike traffic has since returned to Wildcat. A day or two after the collapse I rode out Old El Toyonal to take a look at the closure, went by the barriers (my bad), and saw that about half the road was still in place. The only hassle was having to lift your bike to go around the K barrier at the bottom. Sometime after the initial closure the K barriers and obstructive fencing were moved to make it easy for bikes (and motorcycles) to get by.

Since then Wildcat has become a sanctuary of peace and quiet. Prior to the closure Wildcat was a cut-through for cars wanting to avoid the Eastshore Highway (i.e. I-80 by Berkeley), the jam on I-580, and the back up on 24 up to the Caldecott Tunnel. If you made the mistake of cycling on Wildcat during a commute period, you were in for a series of close passes some on blind curves or the impatient driver sitting right on your ass telegraphing the message that if you didn’t get out of his way right now you were going to get fucked. Because it’s curvy just like Redwood Road, it’s also a casual speedway for sports cars and motos. For now it’s our private Idaho. Although not exactly: motos ignore the closure signs and routinely take Wildcat now that the K barriers have been moved and even some cars are still using the road from Inspiration point to Old El Toyonal. The latter are probably associated with the Orinda Horse Association, which has its stables right at the turnoff to Old El Toyonal. It’s unnerving to be blasting down Wildcat and suddenly come upon a car!

Despite being “abandoned” Wildcat is kept in shockingly good condition. Initially debris from the dense oak tree cover just rained down on the road willynilly with no car traffic to push it out of the way. Riding it was a bit of an obstacle course but nothing compared to Planet of the Apes or even Old Scenic Road to Martinez before it was reopened. Has a sweeper been run on Wildcat during the closure? I haven’t seen one but I have no other explanation for why it isn’t knee deep in debris. Some regular upkeep must be going on even if it’s a “closed” road. Recent storms knocked down some old oaks on the road and they’ve been quickly and mysteriously cut up and moved to the side. Nonetheless you still have to be attentive to random tree branches on the road as well as the copious piles of horse manure deposited by the OHA members, who no longer have to cling to the narrow dirt shoulder and can use the road full-on (until they encounter a moto or a car).

Riding Wildcat is almost like being on a BLM road except that it’s paved. Without the roar of cars it’s like being in a forest all by yourself except for the occasional fellow cyclist. The old oaks turn the road into a tunnel of sorts although you can look to the east and peek through the trees to catch a glimpse of Briones Reservoir and the hills surrounding all that EBMUD land, which since the December storms are now approaching peak green.

For bicyclists Wildcat is a significant paved road to get between Berkeley and Contra Costa. Those on the other side take Wildcat to do the Three Bears or head further afield east to Diablo or south to Pinehurst. It’s part of the Pinehurst Loop that goes up Pinehurst, Skyline, Grizzly Peak, and back to Orinda. If you’ve done the Fall Social ride, you’ve taken Wildcat from Phil’s up to Inspiration Point and dropped down to do the Three Bears and then returned the same way. It’s a nice, fast descent and the way back to Berkeley is a challenging climb sure to burn your legs and lungs but without the scary steep grades you’d find on 24 or El Toyonal.

These days I’ve been enjoying Wildcat a bit differently. I’ve been riding my mountain bike up El Toyonal and then dropping down Old El Toyonal to Wildcat and up to Inspiration Point. Then I head onto the Nimitz Trail in Tilden Park. It’s a short ride between eight and fifteen miles depending on how far I head out the Nimitz. It’s a good ride for clearing out my head since it’s peaceful and quiet and with essentially no traffic and it doesn’t take long to do the ride. If you don’t live near Wildcat, you obviously can’t avail yourself so easily of its tranquility. Of course having to travel to Wildcat from further away, e.g. San Francisco, would defeat the purpose in that you’re dealing with all the hassles of transiting to Wildcat and probably losing more repose than you’re gaining.

In the meantime Wildcat is still closed but perhaps not for very long. If we are lucky, it will still be shut for the Fall Social next October. But for now I’m taking advantage of this boon from nature.

Our tour was not self-supported by any means. (For more information about self-supported touring in Japan, speak to David Shiver or Phil Bokovoy.) There are several companies in Japan that provide supported cycling tours. These are usually van supported tour so one’s luggage is hauled from stop to stop and varying degrees of on-road support are offered. We’re lazy so we have opted for package tours that have specific itineraries, van support, and all hotel/inn bookings handled by the tour company. In addition the company we have used, Cycling Japan, which by the way is Japanese owned and run, can provide rental bikes both regular or e-bikes (along with spare batteries if you burn through one during the day). They provide road bikes, hybrids, or touring bikes depending on your preference and they set them up according to your measurements.

Whether to bring your own bike or rent one. Taking your personal bike overseas is an undertaking unto itself. If you take your own bike, you will have to haul it in addition to your other luggage. Airlines have gone back and forth on whether to charge for bikes as oversize luggage; check airlines for the latest policy. If you plan to do any additional traveling while you are overseas after your tour, you will either have to find a way to stash your bike such as left luggage or you’ll end up hauling it with you even though you don’t need it. Sometimes it is possible to ship your bike to your start destination. If so, you need assurance that it will not only arrive intact but on time. (The same goes for flying with your bike. Airlines lose bikes occasionally and yours may not arrive on time.) If you want to use your e-bike, you will not be allowed to pack the lithium battery packs in your stowed luggage—it’s illegal. You will then have to take it with you into the cabin and there are limitations on the battery size and the number of batteries that can be brought onboard.

Renting a bike means you’ll shed the burden of packing, hauling, and unpacking your bike. But you may get a rental bike that is not to your satisfaction. When you take your own bike, you have a bike you’re familiar with and set up just as you want. Since Roger uses e-bikes exclusively, he has to rent one. Before going to Japan I had never rented a bike and had always brought my own touring bike that is kitted out the way I prefer. The first time we went to Japan with Cycling Japan I decided to try a rental because it would make the travel logistics so much easier not to lug a bike around. I’ve been fairly satisfied with their bikes even if they are more modest—but not always!—than what I would ride at home. Cycling Japan does a good job of fitting the bikes after you arrive. The other major positive is that since we are renting the bikes from the tour company, they assume the responsibility for maintaining the bikes while on tour whether that be providing fully charged battery packs, repairing flats (!), or fixing something major. On our first tour in 2016 my rental bike bottom bracket failed just before lunch one day; Kenichi swapped it out for a new one during lunch. Yes, they carry spares of everything including a fully functional road bike just in case someone’s needs repair that can’t be done immediately! Another time my freehub died just as we arrived at a ferry port. While waiting, Dai tried to fix it but couldn’t. (The pawls turned out to be shot.) So he just swapped in a spare rear wheel. If these incidents had happened with my own touring bike, I would have had to hunt for a bike shop to do the repairs. (Do not delude yourself thinking that nothing wrong can happen with your own, carefully maintained bike. We’ve seen broken derailleurs, shot shifters, broken saddles, broken seatposts, you name it, on other people’s “carefully maintained” bicycles.) If you do bring your own bike, at least have it tuned up or checked over by a pro (= not you) before you pack it.

The fitting adjustments are done on the first day of the tour, which is a non-riding day. I’ve learned over subsequent trips exactly what else I need to bring to Japan to make my rental bike work better. You are encouraged to bring your own saddle and pedals since those are highly personal contact points on the bike. Cycling Japan’s bikes have front and rear lights. But I bring more powerful lights because of the tunnels as well as a bell to use when I’m dealing with traffic. Although they provide a large rear saddle bag, I also bring a handlebar bag to carry my camera, snack food, supplies, as well as an additional place to stow clothing. By the way, in Japan brakes are set up English style, i.e. the left hand brake lever controls the rear brake and the right hand lever controls the front brake. This is the reverse of what we’re used to.

An advantage of a package tour is you’re relieved of making a lot of decisions such as where to stay, where to eat, and how far to ride or which road to take and all the associated research involved in making those decisions. Although you may not know the nittygritty details in advance, you do know the general architecture of each day and have an idea of how easy or challenging the route will be as well as the sights you might see along the way. The disadvantage is that you’re also limited to a set route and spontaneity is severely reduced. If you want to go somewhere else on a day, you’d better be able to figure out a route to your hotel/ryokan for the night! On the other hand you’re availing yourself of the company’s expertise and experience in crafting a rewarding experience. Never underestimate the value of locals’ knowledge. Another disadvantage is that because we are traveling with predominantly English speakers, we tend to cluster together rather than being forced by circumstance to interact with Japanese people. The few opportunities we have been afforded to speak directly with locals have been because they spoke some English; those interactions we cherish. Of course if you speak and understand some Japanese you’ll be able to interact more freely and likely have a much more rewarding experience while on tour. Another disadvantage of a set tour is that you’re on a schedule so even if you’d like to linger longer at a particular town you can’t. Certainly for a first-time visit to an area of Japan a tour is a great introduction and you can in the future plan to go back to explore in more depth the areas that caught your fancy.

A package cycle tour is not like riding at home. At home you can take a day off when you like or skip a day because it’s raining or unpleasantly hot. On most package tours that are point-to-point the best you’re going to be able do is maybe ride in the van. But that may not always be possible. You wake up every morning knowing you’re going to be riding regardless of the weather or how tired you feel. Unlike Northern California most of Japan can be rainy at almost any time of the year. Every tour we’ve done there has had some rain, sometimes very light all the way to torrential, all-day maelstroms. So you’re likely to be riding in the rain at some point whether you like it or not. Regarding weather summer in all but Hokkaido can be insufferably hot and humid. But even Hokkaido is getting hotter in summer due to climate change. The best times to visit Japan to cycle are spring and autumn although winters from Kyushu south to Okinawa are milder than on the northerly islands of Honshu, Shikoku, and Hokkaido and comfortable for touring.

Roads. Roads in Japan are generally in better shape than in the Bay Area. Road maintenance is serious business in Japan. Earthquakes and monsoonal storms do tremendous damage to roads whether it be by landslides, collapses, or overflowing rivers wiping them out. So there always seems to be road maintenance going on. Even in the rural areas road failures seem to be addressed quickly. Whereas county road budgets here always seem to be impoverished, Japanese fund maintenance to the extent that even potholes are rare.

Vehicles use the left side of the roadway as they do in the UK, Australia, and New Zealand so you’ll be cycling on the left side as well, i.e. close to the left edge of the roadway. This can be initially disorienting for Americans and one can forget which lane to use when turning at intersections—turn left and stay to the left, turn right and also stay to the left! If you use a cycling mirror, you’ll need to switch it to the other side of your helmet/eyeglasses/handlebar in order to see the traffic behind you. Traffic laws as well as general expectations of cycling behavior are slightly different in Japan. For example there is no right/left turn on red: all vehicular traffic waits until there is a green light before turning. Cyclists turning right are expected to make ’square’ turns: wait for the green light, proceed through the intersection to the corner, then wait for the green light before going to the right.

No surprise: road signage is different in Japan. The main difference is the stop sign; in Japan it’s a red triangle rather than an octagon. But occasionally you’ll see “STOP” on the road surface. Informational signs are mainly in Japanese but city names are usually also in Roman characters. Most other signs are standard. You will also see a sign allowing bicycles to ride on sidewalks as well at not allowing bicycles. But the latter are often ignored as long as you’re respectful of pedestrians.

Because Japan has a very long history its roads are similar to what you’ll find in Europe: an extremely fine and dense network of tertiary roads. These roads are used mainly by locals and local delivery trucks and businesses; people traveling point to point and larger delivery trucks instead stick to the main roads. It is not uncommon to be on a road so isolated and narrow that two cars can barely pass each other—and these are small, narrow Japanese cars! It almost goes without saying that these roads are lovely to ride on. Of course to get to these tertiary roads you inevitably have to take the major roads and many coastline roads are pretty heavily trafficked especially near the bigger cities. Roads in Japan are often narrower than what our Highway Code would require. Lanes are usually narrower and the presence of a reasonable shoulder is hit-and-miss. Bikes are expected to ride on the left edge of the lane if there is no shoulder; the idea of “taking the lane” is indeed foreign in Japan—drivers do not expect you to be in the middle of the lane. That said we’ve had exactly one incident in the thousands of miles we’ve ridden there when a driver seemed so uptight about being behind a line of cyclists that he sped up furiously to pass us even when it was patently unsafe to do so; in other words he did what would be have been matter-of-fact here!

Tunnels. If you ride in Japan you’re going to be going through tunnels. Along the coast tunnels are cut through bluffs over which no road could be constructed. Given that we’ve cycled on 15%+ grades on coast roads—similar to the rolling hills on the San Mateo coast—that’s saying something. Their benchmark for when it’s too-steep-better-dig-a-tunnel seems a lot higher than here. Tunnels vary in Japan from short galleria like you’d find in the Alps to long and dark with dismal or no lighting. Tunnels are the “short cut” so expect to encounter trucks. No matter how much I tell myself that Japanese drivers are better and more considerate than US drivers I still am unnerved when I hear the roar of a diesel engine behind me in a tunnel. So I’ve made sure to use powerful lights to be seen as well as to see the pavement and warn oncoming traffic of my presence.

Driver behavior. Driving behavior in Japan is unlike anything we have encountered in Europe and certainly here at home: drivers actually observe the speed limit. And the speed limits in Japan are lower than they are here. Typically the speed limit is 60 KPH on arterials and 40 or 30 KPH on ‘residential’ roads. Drivers also are much more patient waiting behind cyclists before making a pass. Turning at red lights is illegal and cars observe this law making it much safer for pedestrians and cyclists. When passing automobile drivers seem to have a good sense of the ‘edges’ of their car and pass with a sufficient gap. Cars and trucks are overall smaller than in the US and even Europe and they’re going more slowly than we are used to.

How do locals cycle? Riding a bike on the sidewalk is very common in cities. That said those cyclists are usually running errands and going very slowly (less than 10 MPH). Cyclists occasionally do ‘salmon’ although to a lesser extent than here. We only occasionally have seen Japanese recreational cyclists and that’s usually on a Saturday or Sunday when they have time for a ride. Do Japanese cyclists obey the letter of the law? Nope. They’ll turn at a red light as long as it’s clear. They also cycle ‘salmon’ in cities. But in general they are respectful of car drivers and don’t engage in provocative behavior; in return drivers don’t mete out punishment passes and attempt to terrorize cyclists.

The years fly by and 2024, the club’s 42nd year of existence, is now one for the books. The club quietly does what recreational cycling clubs do: offer bicycle rides and club events for fellow LGBTQ cyclists, their family members, and allies to congregate and have fun. In the case of some challenging rides that might mean a bit of Type 2 fun though. Sometimes the club goes through periods of innovation that alter the direction of the club and sometimes those innovations become “traditions” until they become tired and dwindle away. Some of those innovations continue to today including the annual club picnic, which began shortly after the birth of the club. Mountain biking exploded and had a big club coterie in the late ‘80s and throughout the ‘90s but has since dwindled away with now just a meager presence on the ride calendar. What will 2025 bring? Surely it will be more of the same. Hopefully there will be some new events and rides that spark interest and can carry us into the future.

A “normal” winter. 2024 began with a “normal” winter after the deluge we got in 2023 when so many Bay Area roads were washed out and destroyed. Some of those roads weren’t repaired and reopened until 2024! We had the usual rain-outs of club rides but compared to 2023 it was nothing.

Will Bir. This is foremost on my mind thinking about the past year: Will Bir’s death from a heart attack while riding in the Presidio. Following David Sexton’s death in 2023, Will’s was another savage blow to the club. Will was a longtime club member whose involvement and dedication to the club was unquestioned. Will did it all and always with a smile on his face and usually while whistling. I’m going to miss him.

The return of the Ride Leader Appreciation Dinner. We hadn’t had a RLAD since January 2020. Then the Pandemic hit and we put it on hiatus for four years until this past spring at il Casaro on Church Street. It was great to gather with the club cyclorati and celebrate their club spirit. It’s the only goody the club offers to its members who volunteer to lead rides or host a club event at their house. Hopefully we’re back on our usual annual schedule and we’ll have one this spring for 2024 volunteers.

Tunnel Tops Park. The annual club picnic returned to San Francisco with some trepidation. A summer picnic is SF can either be a windblown fogfest or, if we’re lucky, a grand sunny day. We lucked out in 2024 and got the latter. Even better we held it at a new venue, Tunnel Tops picnic area in the Presidio, and it was a great choice with fantastic views, a cheery crowd, and a new, clean picnic area! A great turnout as well. It was also Will Bir’s last club event before his passing.

Pizza Night, the Marin Pizza Run. In our neverending quest to have more fun and food together we held two new events this past year. Pizza Night at Little Star Pizza on Valencia was going to be the first of several casual dinner gatherings but it turned out to be our only one last year. We had a great turnout, Little Star wasn’t crowded, and the pizza and conversation were fabulous. Hopefully we’ll have more of these in 2025! The other new event was the Marin Pizza Run held at Janet’s house in Marin. What better than a ride followed by even more tasty pizza! A fabulous jaunt out to China Camp and then camping in Janet’s beautiful backyard with slices from Cafe Verde Pizza on a gorgeous sunny day.

The Pride Ride. For many years the club was an annual presence at the SF Pride celebration with a parade contingent and a booth. But both vanished due to lack of enthusiasm—it’s a lot of work to put that together. Instead it was replaced by the Pride Ride, which has morphed into our biggest club event usually bringing out about 50-90 riders. This year was no exception with a big turnout, more donuts and coffee, and a beautiful sunny day.

Injuries. Being club president is an accursed position and maybe cursed, period! Both David Goldsmith, our past president, and current president Jeff Mishler ended up with chronic injuries in 2024—in David’s case yet again—that kept them off the bike most of the year. We hope to see them both on a ride after their eventual recoveries!

For me 2024 had three special club rides.

Old Haul Road. I finally got to ride Old Haul Road. I led it but no one other than Roger wanted to come along, which turned out to be fine. Old Haul has been on my list for a long time. I moved away from the Midpeninsula 40 years ago and it hasn’t been easy to get back to Coastside to do it. It was a complete delight: a broad, tree swaddled avenue into the redwoods on a beautiful dirt road. I’m definitely going back but next time it’ll be part of a long mixed terrain loop.

Pedaling Paths to Independence. This metric century in February has become one of my faves—it’s a small event, it’s relatively inexpensive, and it’s got beautiful terrain. But in 2024 I hadn’t been riding due to health issues and so I did this ride with almost zero miles and thus a great deal of trepidation. Fortunately David Goldsmith was also game and he hadn’t been riding much either and we sort of rode it together supporting each other. (Jeff Mishler was the other Spoker who did it. But he was killing it and we saw him only at the food stops.) Despite a slew of technological mishaps I went against my bullheaded nature and did the ride with restraint, which allowed me actually to complete the ride without dying or cramping. (I got the cramps in the car while driving home!) It was probably the slowest century I’ve ever done but it was no less enjoyable.

Pescadero loops. I did these loops three times last year. It’s another revelation thanks to David Goldsmith. Now I drive to Pescadero to skim the cream off the top instead of schlepping all the way from Palo Alto or San Francisco. It’s never not beautiful, always quiet, and I’m hooked on stopping at the Loma Mar Store for good grub! I especially like doing the loop up Haskins Hill rather than going down Highway One.

In early November Roger and I went to Japan for a cycling tour, our seventh there. After many years of making pilgrimages to the European continent for our cycling vacations, in 2016 we decided to head to Japan for a taste of something perhaps different. We’ve been hooked ever since.

Japan has a long history of cycling despite being off the radar as a cycling destination. Yet Japan has a huge cycling industry and cycling is a part of everyday life there even more than in the US. If you are old enough, you may remember when ten-speed bicycles began to gain traction in the US in the early 1970s. We were flooded by bicycle imports. Yes, we had Raleighs from England and Peugeots and Motobecanes from France. But they were quickly followed by Bridgestone, Miyata, Nishiki. Fuji, Panasonics, Sekai, and many others—all Japanese made. Plus component manufacturers Suntour and Shimano as well as a host of other producers such as Nitto, Tange tubing, MKS, and Araya started selling their wares to compete with Campagnolo, Huret, Universal, and all the other European brands.

In Japan everyday people cycle to work or to run errands as well as cycle for recreation. People of all ages ride bikes including the elderly. Bicycles are deeply integrated into everyday life in Japan. Inexpensive bikes for everyday life, “momochari” are everywhere. Cities have dedicated bike parking near train and transit stations. At the other extreme keirin racing is very popular and high-end bicycles are still made by Miyata, Bridgestone, Fuji, and several others although they tend to outsource the actual manufacturing these days to China or southeast Asia.

What is largely unknown outside of Japan is the incredible countryside full of back roads and narrow lanes that are wonderful for cycling and make Japan worth a visit. This isn’t to say that everything cycling is hunkydory in the land of the Rising Sun. Arterials near big cities can be congested hellholes for bicyclists and most roads have no shoulders. But the liberal use of multiuse paths and sidewalks by cyclists is mitigating. In most other respects road infrastructure is much friendlier to cyclists than even the Bay Area’s. Speed limits are low compared to the US often no higher than 40 KPH on main roads and 25 KPH on residential streets. In addition to being driven more slowly cars as well as trucks are smaller and narrower making the inevitable pass less anxiety producing and safer. More importantly driver attitude is much more tolerant of cyclists and sharing the road, and drivers are very familiar with how to handle encounters with cyclists. In general Japanese culture values patience and politeness and it shows on the road. Tolerance for drunk driving is very low; the blood alcohol level for getting jailed is only 0.05% compared to 0.08% here. And taxis are everywhere if you need a lift home after a night of carousing.

We cycled from Nagasaki to Hiroshima over eleven days. It’s the second time we’ve done this trip. Two years ago immediately after Japan reopened to foreign tourism we rode this route. We felt like we had Japan all to ourselves and the absence of foreigners was immediately apparent. It was uncrowded and quiet. Autumn is also a great time to cycle in Japan. The oppressive summer heat and humidity are gone and if you time it right, the fall colors are exploding. We decided to go back not only because we enjoyed this part of Japan so much but because Roger fell ill with the flu shortly after we arrived and missed about half the tour. Thanks to the fantastically capable Japanese medical staff, who diagnosed Roger’s ailment and gave him a startlingly effective antiviral, his symptoms resolved one day later (!) and after recovering his strength he was able to complete the second half. We went back so that Roger could properly enjoy the entire route.

Our trip was a supported tour by Cycling Japan whom we’ve used every time so far. Although cycling on one’s own is possible, having guides to help us navigate not just the roads but also the language and culture have been essential since neither of us speaks nor reads Japanese. That said using Google Translate on phones it’s possible to get a lot of basic communication done albeit awkwardly. Unlike in many European countries the use of English has not made significant inroads into Japanese tourism infrastructure except in the biggest cities such as Tokyo and Osaka and even there it can be sketchy. Much of Japan’s tourism especially out of the big cities is internal tourism so hotel and ryokan staff expect Japanese. At the more isolated country towns it’s solely Japanese.

The Japanese guides not only assist with interpreting and translating but also convey cultural information that we tend to overlook or are completely ignorant of. Here’s an example: traditional Japanese inns—ryokans—have Japanese rooms, i.e. futons not beds, low tables and no chairs, and tatami mats covering the floor. One should never wear shoes in the ryokan let alone the rooms and one shouldn’t roll one’s suitcases on tatami. Tatami mats are expensive despite appearing to be spartan to Westerners. Wearing shoes or otherwise abusing them makes them look ugly and harder to keep clean. Another example is proper behavior in the onsens. Onsens are hot spring baths that are commonly found throughout Japan. There is a specific protocol in using the onsen that all Japanese know but is opaque to foreigners.

Our trip was jokingly called the “atomic bomb tour”. For most Americans Nagasaki and Hiroshima are one of the familiar city names other than Tokyo, Kyoto, and Osaka due to the US atomic bombings of those two cities that directly ended the Second World War. Of course other than historical remnants that have been preserved there is no sign of the bombings almost 80 years ago. Nagasaki is set on a beautiful inlet surrounded by tall hills. Part of the city goes steeply up the hillside and provides scenic views of the bay. Does that sound familiar? The population is only 400,000; it’s a big city but it doesn’t feel like it. Hiroshima on the other hand is huge with about 1.2 million residents. It too is a port town but set on the Seto Inland Sea, which is replete with hundreds of small to medium sized islands. Hiroshima feels big, more like NYC than SF and has a distinctly fashionable and urban feel. Nagasaki is on the western side of Kyushu, the southernmost of Japan’s four main islands, and Hiroshima is on the western side of Honshu, the main island. To get from one to the other we rode 500 miles taking in a lot of rural areas and coastal roads, took a tiny ferry to get across a bay, and walked under the ocean to get from Kyushu to Honshu. Japan is not flat by any means; it’s mountainous and cutting across the center of its islands always involves going over passes. We did something like 45,000 feet of climbing on our tour with most of those climbs being reasonable, i.e. less than 8%. But there were quite a few spikey, short climbs especially on rolling coastal roads hitting 15% or more. Low gears are essential! The climbing would have been even more challenging except of Japan’s propensity to carve tunnels through mountains rather than turn ancient goat trails into ridiculously steep roads. Every day involved going through tunnels. That’s both a blessing and a bane—the tunnels make it easier to get over the mountain but some of them are long, dark and poorly illuminated. Oh yeah, and the trucks go through the tunnels too. In the US this would be a recipe for disaster and either bikes would be forbidden to ride in a tunnel or we’d have to use a separated walkway. But in Japan drivers are more patient and not speeding. So after having gone through many tunnels in our travels there we have more confidence that we’re going to make it out alive at the other end.

Our trip would take us through Nagasaki, Saga, and Fukuoka prefectures on Kyushu and then through Yamaguchi, Shimane, and Hiroshima prefectures on Honshu. But before I go into any trip details, there are some things about Japan that make it different from North America or Europe.

Next: What is it like on a cycling tour in Japan?

Recently I capitulated to nostalgia and rode on some old wheels shod with 23 mm tires again. (I did it before.) These tires are actually narrower—22.4 mm when pumped to 90 PSI, which today seems like an absurdly high pressure. I used to think that 23 mm tires were too heavy and slow and I preferred 19 or 20 mm tires, which you can’t even get anymore. Do you remember when road bikes all came with 23 mm tires? Do you even pay attention to the width of your tires? If you’re new to road cycling, you’ve probably never even seen 23 mm tires. Tire width is esoterica only wheel nerds obsess about and you likely don’t give it a second thought. Odds are you’re riding 28 mm tires or wider since that’s the trend these days in road bikes. (You can look carefuly on the sidewall of your tires for something like “622-28”, the “28” indicating the nominal width of the tire when inflated.) Not that many years ago a 28 mm tire would have been considered enormous and many road racing bikes of the 1990s and early Aughts couldn’t fit anything bigger than a 25 mm tire, which was the widest size tire racers would use. The “standard” size was 23 mm.

In the past five years I have rarely ridden anything less than a 27 mm tire. This trend started when I got some Hed Belgium rims in 2012. These were heretically wide road rims for that era—21 mm internal width when the going trend was 17 or even just 14 or 15 mm. (Today we’re edging up to 23 and even 25 mm internal width!) I put nominal 25 mm tires on them and the extra width of the rims caused the tires to balloon out to 30 mm measured width. They were and continue to be the most comfortable road wheels I own. (Gravel and mountain bike wheels are another matter.) These are supremely plush yet fast wheels. Mind blown. Until then I ate only at the table of “skinny, pumped rock hard, light” so those Hed wheels were a revelation. Putting those HED wheels on any bike would improve the ride as long as the frame could accept that big and wide of a tire. Now I’ve become so used to wider tires that when I look at those wheels with 23 mm tires, they look scary thin; even 28 mm tires are starting to look “narrow” to me! Thanks to Jan Heine and Grant Peterson for debunking the old malarkey that skinnier meant better because faster. It turns out comfort can make you faster too.

I then began to experiment with different kinds and sizes of wheels and tires. I’ve tried 32 mm, 35 mm, and 42 mm tires as well as 650b rims. Each width is more comfortable than the other if a tad bit heavier. 650B wheels are heavier but they provide a Cadillac ride that puts a smile on my face most of the time. I haven’t looked back. The only “downgrade” I’ve played around with is 26 mm Rene Herse tires, which I’ve mentioned in the past. (These tires expand to about 27 or 28 mm in actual width.)

Going back to 23 mm tires for a week was a regression. But I couldn’t help it: the old bike that has these tires won’t take anything bigger than a 25 mm tire. So it’s stuck with skinny tires. Anyway my recollection was that the bike was fast and comfortable and I fondly remember many a ride zipping down roads at high speed. In particular I remember one fast ascent up Mt. Diablo, a club ride where I got schooled by Erik Leung. So I had to take a trip down memory lane hoping to relive those fond, or perhaps imagined, sensations of thin, light tires.

What was it like to ride an old bike with 23 mm tires now? To be honest it was a bit of a letdown. The wheels still felt sprightly and wickedly nimble—that much had not changed. They are fast. But the ride quality was comparatively awful: near constant vibration, juddering, and bouncing around whenever the asphalt was heaved or cracked. Perhaps roads are worse today than they were 25 years ago. Scratch that: roads ARE worse today. Counties cannot keep up with road maintenance because asphalt prices are much higher today, road budgets are cut, and road maintenance is partially funded by gasoline taxes, which are diminished by the explosion of electric car use. Torrential winter rains that wash out roads and increase pavement failures don’t help. The bike frame itself is quite compliant and not at all stiff and rigid like a carbon frame. But so much of the ride quality is due to the narrow tires. I used to think those sensations meant “excellent road feel” (= good!) when it’s really just being bounced up and down over every little bump in the pavement and feeling every little divot and crack. Those skinny tires pumped up to 95 pounds pressure were like riding on rigid Conestoga wagon wheels. My hands were aching so much that I thought I didn’t have gel gloves. But I did. The ride quality is not very forgiving. But that was what we were told back in the day how fast wheels were supposed to feel and we sure drank the Kool-Aid.

You’re not losing much by moving on to fatter tires. There is no doubt that they are heavier: there is more rubber and more casing. They do not spin up as quickly and that sublime feeling of “instant” acceleration that a light rim and tire give is muted by the extra mass. In exchange fatter tires make up for that minor buzzkill by providing a much more comfortable ride. It’s not exactly smooth but the jarring, shocking hits are replaced by subdued bumps. And the reduced bouncing actually makes for a faster ride. With 23 mm tires there is a constant benumbing vibration from every type of pavement save the smoothest of asphalt.

Yet skinny, narrow tires like 23 mm still have their allure. On smooth pavement they are addictive—they hum and flow and feel great. And if they’re 23 mm tubular tires (with silk casings), then they are like crack cocaine. Because they’re lighter they are absolutely amazing to spin up. And climbing on them is the cat’s meow because they accelerate easily with every pedal stroke. If I lived in a place with good roads like Switzerland, I’d ride 23 mm tires all the time. I don’t foresee local roads getting better with time, only progressively more awful. So 23 mm tires and their ilk have become for me a special use case. Or just a nostalgic visit to a previous era. With a harsh reality check.

For everyday riding here in the Bay Area a 28 mm tire is more comfortable and more functional. Those big volume tires allow lower inflation pressure and give a “magic carpet” ride while still being moderately light enough to feel a bit nimble. Plus, they’re less likely to incur a pinch flat when you hit that occasional monster pothole you didn’t see.

I don’t see myself going back to 23 mm tires as my regular ride; if anything I’m heading in the other direction and eyeing 32 mm tires for everyday use. The tires are indeed heavier due to more casing material and rubber. But that can be mitigated by using TPU tubes. And they are just excellently comfortable. Oh, and the other tire in the pic above is 42 mm wide. It’s like riding on a magic carpet compared to the 23.

But for the occasional ride—especially if I know the roads are of good quality—I’ll rock 23 mm tires for a trip down memory lane.