Cycling the Fuji Five Lakes: A lap of Mt Fuji
My year in Japan was drawing to a close – and whilst I’d stood on top of Fuji-san, I’d never actually ‘seen’ it – nor had I done enough cycling touring. What better way to see Mt Fuji than by cycling around it; cycling the fuji five lakes.
I was leaving Japan with both a heavy heart & a lot of resentment towards the country – I’m not sure how I could be feeling both things simultaneously – but either way, I wanted this last ride to be memorable. Â
The journey – as all journeys in Japan start – on the shinkansen, to Shin-fuji. It was a dark evening, with rain due at any time. I rode to a hotel, before tucking into a massive bowl of ramen to carb load before the ride could begin.
Day 1:
I woke the next morning to rain & humidity that left me in two minds as to whether I could really be bothered cycling the fuji five lakes. The main reason for me leaving Japan was because it’s a place that really drained my sense of adventure. The rules, the bureaucracy, the long working hours – all I really wanted to do was sleep. And on any other weekend, I would have succumbed, but not this time – this was my last opportunity to go ride around Fuji-san – so I made the decision to get started.
I took a hotel breakfast – as a westerner, I find Japanese breakfast unappealing. Nonetheless, it was easier than faffing about trying to find something else in the rain.
I set out in the rain, armed with a gore-tex & some pastries. It was a wet, muggy morning as I made my way out of the urban hellscapes that are Japanese cities. It’s a constant battle of red light or stop at cross roads.
The plan was ride as far as I felt. I had 3 days & about 300km to do. You have to be realistic about touring distances in Japan – I find it a very hard country to make fast progress. 25km/h is about the going rate for me when touring in the UK & Europe, whereas here, its closer to 20.
I was aiming for one of the famous viewpoints on the western side of Fuji – hoping that the clouds would clear and give me a view of fuji-san. No such luck, the rain persisted – so did I – continuing towards Lake Saiko on the northern side of Fuji-san.
The views appeared. It made it all worthwhile. It was hard to stay focused on the road as I rode around Lake Kawaguchi. Fuji-san is a volcano – and its incredibly distinctive from the surrounding’s. Even through 3000m peaks are not abnormal in Japan – Fuji-san stands at 4000m – but it’s the fact that the lands next to it are so flat. It sticks out like a sore thumb.
That night, I chose another hotel to dry all my kit out. A quiet hotel in Yamanashi, next door to a typical Japanese restaurant, where a local lady proceeded to make a hearty bowl of ramen and was incredibly curious as to what brought this ‘gaijin’ to her restaurant. My Japanese is broken at best, so I showed her my photos from the day – to which she proceeded to get her photo album out. ‘Sugoi’ was used a lot during this interaction.
Day 2:
The second day of cycling the fuji five lakes was much better weather wise – and once you’ve got started on a tour, there isn’t really any way out of it other than to complete it – so the motivation to get up and get going was there today!
And since I was in a city and it wasn’t raining, I didn’t feel the urge to force a hotel breakfast down – instead, a FamilyMart hash potato, blueberry yoghurt & pain au chocolat for the road. (the pain au chocolat is a mass produced piece of crap, but its carbs & it’s the closest thing a European would get to normal in Japan!)
The objective for today was Yanagisawa pass. Whilst there isn’t really a fixed route for cycling the fuji five lakes, this was definitely a detour. Similar to the Shimanami Kaido, you will often find a ‘blue line; on the road, indicating a cycling route – but they don’t really connect.
From Yamanashi, I would be climbing up the steeper side – but descending the far more scenic road. The climb itself felt more like a purpose built road than anything special. It snaked its way up into the Southern Japanese Alps, crossing bridges and using lots of wide turns to maintain elevation gain.
The descent off the other side was breathtaking. It felt very urban on the way up, to now, sweeping through a gorge with dense jungle & a crystal clear river at every turn.
Any regular readers will know that I hate the ‘bit in between’ two climbs. Today was no different. After the excitement of Yanagisawa & the anticipation of the Doshi Road climb up to lake Yamanaka, there was a dull, tedious & frankly unenjoyable 40km in between.
That said, I was enjoying being a tourist in Japan. The last year, living & working in Japan had been hellish – never once feeling a sense of belonging. Yet here, with the tourism infrastructure, it was far easier.
I didn’t actually realize the Doshi road climb was as famous as it was – turns out it was used in the Tokyo 2020 Olympic road race. I saw a lot of people embracing the afternoon heat & humidity on this pass – one such chap happened to be an incredibly friendly Austrian dude. Ordinarily I wouldn’t care much – but to hear someone speak English & be of similar ethnicity, gave me a really comforting feeling of familiarity.
I topped out on the climb, with Fuji-san dominating the landscape view. From a flat & still lake, the volcanic triangle stood proud. This was another ‘this is what I came to Japan for’ moment. It had been hard, living & working here, often loosing sight of all the wonderful things Japan has to offer. My resentment towards Japan faded somewhat – grateful that one of my final memories would be this moment.
That night, I secured a campspot overlooking Fuji-san & headed into town for some noodles. I wasn’t expecting to see cherry blossom trees still in bloom – and nor was I expecting to see that faint orange glow of the sunset. Japan may be the land of the rising sun, but I guess I could still call this quintessential Japan.
Day 3:
I woke up so tired, not having slept well at all. Despite being in early May & at high altitude, the humidity was still harsh. The humidity here means that the ‘feels like’ temperature never actually drops.
Taking the condensation-ridden tent down was tedious. It was time to hunt some food. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my year in Japan, its that everything comes with a twist. So when I ordered a ham & cheese croissant (the closest thing to ‘breakfast’ on the menu) I knew it would come with a surprise. Pastries – especially savory pastries – should not be sweet.
Either way, it was calories – and frankly, my tired body didn’t care. It was a hot day – and the last thing I needed was more climbs. Yet to get from Lake Yamanaka, it was up another few hundred metres, before I could pass through Hakone & begin the descent back to sea level. Â
Hakone is famous for its hot springs & ropeway, which offers an aerial transport over Lake Ashi towards Fuji-san. Thankfully, I’d seen what I needed to & didn’t need to partake in any more touristy stuff. Despite my intial welcoming of familiarity, I quickly remembered I hate hoardes of people.
I thundered down the Hakone descent, passing cars. I was tired, wanted my own space and had little temperament for the humidity. Faffing with the bike in the rinko bag in order to get back on the shinkansen was the last thing I needed, but rules is rules in Japan.
Japan is a society which values cleanliness. So my sweaty, muddy self was probably frowned upon. This was one of those occasions where I knew I was being judged, but the Japanese don’t say what they’re thinking – you could say I took advantage of this!
Post ride thoughts…
I got home & picked up salmon. As I sat in my apartment, cleaned & freshen up, it hit that there are some things I’ll miss about Japan – a lot of things I wont – but fresh fish is absolutely going to be one of the.
The ease of resupply at convenience stores & drinks at vending machines. Maybe its not Japan I hate, maybe it’s the city & work life that I hated. I’d had more positive experiences in the last 3 days whilst cycling the fuji five lakes than the last 3 months.
Oh, as for taking bikes on trains in Japan. It isn’t simple, nothing in Japan is. You purchase the ticket like a normal passenger, but you are required to pack your bike into a ‘rinko’ bag before you can board the train. Why the same bike has to have a cover, I’ll never know – but this is Japanese bureaucracy and its tedious. Once you’ve wrestled your bike into the rinko bag & then carried the bike (rather than wheeling it) onto the train, you’ll find that there isn’t actually a space to put your bike.
There is no way around the rules – irrespective of how stupid or impractical they are. There is always a jobsworth to enforce it and you will be scolded for breaking the rules, rather than acknowledgment of the rule being stupid. Yeah, I resented Japan.
