I’d have been perfectly content to sit at home today surfing the horrible news and the cat photos, but Nana had prepared the rice for her world-famous onigiri, and so I was obligated to get on the bike. (Granted, I could have doddled to the park and eaten the onigiri there, then hung out in a café until sufficient time had passed, but once I was suited up and carrying all the accessories, it was just as easy to get on the bike.)

I’d told Nana I would depart at 9 a.m., and — owing to the fact I’d started preparing quite a bit before I thought was necessary — I very nearly made that goal. The points where my bum contacts the saddle put up a protest at first, but I was settled in after less than half a kilometer.

Motivation

Before I’d even reached the first rest stop, I was playing the game of deciding where to turn around if I didn’t have the juju to reach my intended goal. This has always been the case for me, but it’s got much worse in the last couple of years. This morning when Nana asked where I was headed, I simply replied, “Tamagawa.” So I had a lot of freedom in my route choice.

Just before mounting up from the rest, I noticed the saddlebag was hanging by a single loop. Was that the cause of the noise I’d been hearing the last couple of rides when I accelerated? It was soon fixed and I didn’t notice any similar noise as the ride continued.

Even before reaching the Tamagawa, I observed Fujisan from the descent out of Setagaya. Once on the cycling course, I didn’t hesitate to stop for photos when the opportunity presented itself. Fujisan had been visible from the Workshop in the Sky in the morning, but it was a bit hazy. Much less so later in the morning as I pedaled my way up the river.

I soon came to a decision: rather than continue up the Tamagawa — perhaps as far as the end of the path, netting me 100km for the day — I’d turn up the Asakawa and have a great view of Fujisan from the Fureai (encounter; meeting place) Bridge. I was getting hungry as I approached the branching of the Asakawa, so I decided to stop at a park bench there and get started on Nana’s onigiri.

Unexpected encounter

As I was relaxing in the shade, filling myself with onigiri and water, an older woman (“auntie” in Japanese lingo) who was passing by stopped to greet me.

Auntie

Good morning!

Guy Jean

(Looking around over both shoulders) Er … Good morning!

Auntie

Is that breakfast you’re having?

Guy Jean

Oh, no. This is lunch.

Auntie

(Gesturing further down the cycling course) There’s a place in the sun where you can eat over there.

Guy Jean

Thanks, but I burn really easily.

Auntie

Well, take care!

Guy Jean

Thanks, I will!

She was speaking slowly and enunciating carefully. At first I thought she might be a bit simple (and nothing she said belied that impression), but then I realized she was doing it for my sake — making sure I understood her.

It’s less than 2km from the park bench to Fureai Bridge. I was glad to see they’d done some repair to the path where tree roots had been pushing up the pavement. It’s much less dangerous now. The surface of Fureai Bridge had also been resurfaced, with lanes indicated for pedestrians and bicycles.

When I arrived, there was Fujisan, tall and (it’s a cliché, but) majestic. Rather than get my snaps and run, I spent a few minutes resting, enjoying the warm sun and the view, watching egrets lazing about in the river. But with my gaze returning time and again to Fujisan in the distance.

Uneventful return, until …

On the way back I passed by the earlier park bench. I still had a couple of onigiri, but I was holding them in reserve. I’d had a bit of crosswind on the way up the Tamagawa, and there it was on the way back. For a brief spell — less than 2km — it was fighting me. But overall it must have been helping, because I posted better 5km splits than I had on my way upstream.

There’s a small park next to the Keiokaku Keirin Oval, and I’d set that as my goal for the final rest stop, where I’d eat the last of the onigiri. And I was very nearly there when the traffic light turned and I came to a stop — well, that was my plan. I unclipped my shoe with no issue, but when I put my foot down on the curb, I missed! Over I went, sprawling over a very low bit of shrubbery and onto the sidewalk. Basically fine, but a group of “aunties” riding on the sidewalk witnessed the whole thing and I had to reassure them repeatedly that I was fine, just stupid.

I’d landed on my left elbow, hip and knee, and I trust there will be bruises in those locations tomorrow. But the more immediate pain was in my right ankle, which must have banged against the crank or chainring in the fall. Nothing I couldn’t ride through, but a bit of a concern. I mounted up and soon was at the small park, eating the last of the onigiri and messaging Nana I’d be home by 1:45.

The ride home was uneventful but I was definitely hearing some noises now when starting from a stop and grinding up a climb. I must have knocked something askew during the fall. When I got the chance I verified that the bottom bracket and cranks are not loose, and that the carbon fibre water bottle cages are intact. I’ll have to get Kuroko up in the Workshop in the Sky (after moving Hornsby back to the parking garage) and give her a good looking over. And just for grits and sniggles, have a very close look at the cranks and BB.

Anyway, I arrived home at 1:29 p.m. and messaged Nana that I was back. On a moving time of 3:22:31, I averaged 19.5km/h, and no one is more surprised than I am at that result. It almost makes me think I could get that average back up over 20 if I really wanted to — and kept both tires on the pavement.

Addendum

Nana’s mother just asked how far I went today, and when I answered, “65 kilometers,” she exclaimed, “Not far!”

I’m wounded. Deeply.