I set off with some trepidation for Yokohama this morning. I’d just done the Tokyo Landmarks ride yesterday, and I usually don’t ride two days in a row. But as I’ve got a big ride coming up with more than a couple of days in a row of riding, I thought it best to get some training in.
The moment I set out this morning, I started hearing from my thighs.
- Way-way-wait! We did this yesterday!
- Then after 20km:
- *sigh* I guess we’re doing this. All right, just don’t expect any help in the climbs.
In fact the start of today’s ride was inauspicious in other regards as well. Within the first 20km, I was:
- Lectured to by a police officer
- Cut off by a driver overtaking me in an intersection, who definitely needed to beat me to the next light another 50m on
- Ambushed by a kid who crossed the path and then suddenly reversed, stepped right in front of me and stopped
The cop thing happened like this: I was approaching an intersection where I wanted to turn right (Americans, think: turn left) and the light changed. So I used the crosswalk to cross right to the opposite side and wait for the light to change.
As soon as I’d done that, the baton-waving and whistle-blowing cop crossed over the crosswalk after me and said good morning in a polite tone. I pulled my mask off, hoping that revealing myself as a gaijin would put off whatever she was on about, but she was unfazed. I didn’t totally play the gaijin card by pretending not to understand Japanese; instead I returned her greeting.
Gesturing with her baton, she told me that the proper way for cyclists to turn right at a multi-lane intersection is to first proceed across the intersection to the opposite corner, and then wait for the light to change to proceed to the right.
Yes, that’s the law (and yes, I know this as a result of having passed my driver’s license). But seriously? To call me out because I took the first crosswalk instead of making the “two-point right turn”? I didn’t get uppity with her: I just agreed and thanked her, and when she told me to be careful I thanked her again. I still made the crossing when the light changed (and thus saved myself one cycle of the light, which had been my goal when making my move).
And I made sure to stop and wait at the next two lights, even though they were only for crosswalks (not cross streets) because I was still in her view (and I figure she could radio ahead to her colleagues and say, “Stop that asshole gaijin on the bike!”).
Following that, the driver cutting me off at an intersection happened in full view of a police box, so I guess that says everything I need to know about my karma …
After 20-some kilometers I stopped to rest, and from that point onwards my legs were mostly OK. I still felt (as noted above) that I would not be up for any big climbing. I was also sure any personal bests today would be the result of a combination of green lights and tailwinds.
As usual, after leaving the cycle path on the Dai-ichi Keihin towards Yokohama, it’s all just straight and flat and bad pavement and lots of traffic. I would ride this way more often but for the fact it’s a 10km stretch of this (and back again) with nothing to break the monotony except for the occasional pothole or rude driver cutting it too close.
As soon as I got to the Minato Mirai section of Yokohama, the traffic turned impossible. Buses up against the curb, preventing passing. Cars stopped in the middle of intersections and blocking progress. Idiots trying to change lanes without looking in hopes of leapfrogging the car ahead. (Wait: does that describe me?) Usually when we bike this we flash by the entrance of Chinatown too quickly to give it a second thought, but today I had time to take a photo at my leisure while I waited for the intersection to clear.
When I finally cleared this section and made it to Minato-no-Mieru Oka Koen, the park overlooking the harbor which is my goal for this ride, I messaged the Halfakid. “Yokohama is packed. It’s the kind of day that your grandmother would convince your grandfather we have to drive to Chinatown.”
Oh, and that climb up to Minato-no-Mieru Oka Koen from sea level? Forget it. I made it half way (which is what I usually do). The Halfakid can do it, but he wasn’t with me today.
The park was packed. Usually I can get a seat on the observation deck in the shade, but today that was impossible. I explored a shaded walkway I hadn’t noticed before and came across a quiet park with benches in the shade, and sat down there to fill up on Nana’s world-famous onigiri (and a Snickers bar left over from yesterday’s ride).
A couple of people asked if they could share the bench, and I readily agreed. One older woman struck up a conversation with me, but she was one of those types who doesn’t really listen to the answers I supply to her questions. I relaxed, took my time eating the onigiri, and didn’t set out again until the sun had moved (earth had turned) so that the bench was no longer in the shade.
On the way home I was feeling capable but not strong. The traffic wasn’t quite as bad. I just kept moving, trying to beat the lights but not trying too hard to game them. I was very surprised to find after I got home that Strava had assigned me a PR for the entire stretch from Minato Mirai back to Tamagawa (and hence back into Tokyo).
Once back on the cycling path, I took advantage of the tailwind. The GPS was spazzing out with the directions, so I switched it to displaying my stats, and concentrated on increasing my average speed. By this point I’d already racked up more than 65km, so any gains required quite a long stretch at speeds exceeding the average, and were quickly undone by time spent in pedestrian traffic or climbing. Still, I managed to get it up a notch or two. (And after a few more kilometers, the GPS finally figured out which direction I was heading. No idea … )
When I leave the path, there’s a bit of a climb up out of the Tama River valley into the city. I wasn’t sure how my thighs were going to respond to this challenge. When the time came I just kept shifting down until I felt I could maintain the pace, and then I kept pedaling. I’m lucky that it’s not a very long climb. I had in mind as I was doing it, though, that on Day 10 of Lejog when we hit a 5% grade with full panniers, I’ll look back at this brief climb with nostalgia.
At the tiny park at the top of the hill, I drank most of my remaining water and messaged Nana that I would be home in an hour or so. There was nothing to do but mount up and make the best of it. In fact on the way home, I felt better — stronger — than I’d felt most of the day. I managed to notch up a couple of tenths on the average speed, and got home in less than 45 minutes (which is my usual time for that stretch when I’m commuting). I’d done the whole thing in 6 hours 36 minutes, which is not bad considering it was a Day 2 ride, and the amount of time I’d spent relaxing in the park and eating Nana’s onigiri. And that’s 172km in four days after nearly four weeks of nothing.