I was feeling anxious in the lead-up to this year’s Tour de Tohoku following last year’s aborted attempt on Hornsby, and knowing that I’d put in even less preparation. This was compounded as the event neared by the increasing chance of rain in the forecast, thanks to Typhoon No. 25, Dujuan. I confirmed with José and he agreed: We’d make the trip to Ishinomaki regardless, and if the event was called, we’d just enjoy a nice onsen stay with excellent food.

The certainty of the forecast

We got quite tired of the inane chatter of the announcers as the starting queue inched forward. I’m sure we could have done without the explanation of how to wear a bicycle helmet (on the head, apparently), how to come to stop, etc. In the event, the organizers timed it perfectly as I felt the first drop of rain just as we set off from the starting line.

The First Bump

The First Bump is a climb of 68m, with a gradient topping 11%, that begins just 9km from the start. Last year I took more than one break on the way up to the top (after having completed it non-stop in 2019), so I was both dreading it and looking forward to it as an indication of my potential performance for the day’s ride.

This time I took two breaks on my way up the hill in the rain, the first quite a long one to catch my breath. I was still a bit surprised to find I’d taken an additional 1:16 to top the climb compared to last year. But I made it.

(“The First Bump” is the name of this segment on Strava. I have another name for this particular climb.)

On the switchback downhill there were multiple tour volunteers telling us to keep the speed down. It was truly chucking it down by this point, and we were soaked through by the time we reached the first aid station in Onagawa. In contrast to my performance on the First Bump, I set a personal best for the start of the ride to the Onagawa stop.

Next stop: Ogatsu

At Onagawa we had processed fish paste balls in a hot broth. We stood under the roof of the train station to be out of the pouring rain. But with no let-up in sight, we knew we either had to bite the bullet or remain standing there all day.

The 21km leg to Ogatsu took us through a tunnel that we’d bypassed on the previous ride, which provided a welcome respite from the rain. Continuing out the other end, we had a number of ups and downs, none as steep as the First Bump, and I was able steam along — albeit in my lowest gear. The rain showed some promise of easing up.

We started to tire after a number of kilometers, and José asked how much farther to go. “Pretty soon,” I answered as I slogged up yet another small climb. In truth, I’d locked my Garmin screen to prevent it reacting to raindrops, and had no idea. It was in fact another 5km or so before we came to the much-needed stop at Ogatsu. And there, as we enjoyed the grilled hotate, the rain started pouring down again.

I waited under a pavilion roof while José visited the restroom, and then we mounted up the bikes again. For a wonder, the rain soon stopped.

Tunnel and Decision Bridge

From Ogatsu there’s a long, gradual climb up to a long tunnel. Last year, hot and exhausted, I stopped several times on the climb. This year I felt much better — particularly as the rain had let up — and only stopped for a flagman where several police cars had lined up at the scene of a bicycle accident. (We saw the police picking up the bicycle. We didn’t hear any word about the rider, who presumably had already been taken away by ambulance.)

From the top of the climb it’s a long ride slightly uphill in a tunnel. I was riding nearly on the bumper of a car that was holding back for the cyclists ahead of us. When we came out the other side we sped down the switchback descent, slowing for the blind curves. I caught up with the auto again and tailed it down until the road met up with the Kitakami river and the Decision Bridge.

Last year, upon reaching the Shin Kitakami Bridge, with aching hands, I decided to turn left and take the short route back to the finish. This year, feeling much better, I continued on across the bridge without hesitation.

The Gauntlet

We followed the shore of Oppa Bay until we reached a series of climbs which stood between us and lunch, with gradients exceeding 10% in places. At the first of these I got off the bike and unashamedly pushed it up the hill while José waited further up. Passing riders shouted encouragement. I managed to power through other climbs but pushed the bike again on the steepest portion of the climb that topped out at 87m.

At last we turned off the main road into Cape Kamiwarizaki Park. There were a couple of more rises standing between us and lunch, but they followed even more generous downhills and so were no challenge in the end.

We hungrily tucked into our seafood curry. I was teasing José about the surprise awaiting us in the curry, but in the end the promised hoya was not to be found. (Just as well, as we both would have passed it up.) After a quick restroom break, we were back on the road at 12:35.

Gauntlet, revisited

Returning meant traveling back over the gauntlet. I did a bit better overall as I had some fresh energy to call on, and the slopes are more gradual in the opposite direction. The next aid station came just 9km later, as the road returned to the shore of the bay. Rather than wait in line for a bowl of cold noodles so soon after our curry lunch, we topped up our water bottles and continued on our way.

Tailwind home

José asked for more frequent breaks over the remaining kilometers, and I was in agreement. His back was starting to complain, and my hands were getting painfully numb sooner and sooner after each rest. We took our next rest after recrossing the bridge and turning right along the Kitakami river. There was enough sun peeking through the clouds at this point I took my shades out of my pocket and mounted them on my glasses.

Our next break was dictated by the guardrail — there was literally no place to stop for several kilometers unless we wanted to stand in the shoulder of the road. We finally found a short break in the guardrail and stood on the grass verge until we felt ready to continue.

Phantom aid station

I’ve failed to find the final aid station on two previous rides. It comes at the 88km mark and is located in the parking lot of a government facility sandwiched between the Kitakami and Oppa rivers. This time, with the riders’ guide helping me pin-point the location, I easily spotted the volunteers waving us a welcome. We were fine for refreshments at this point (water being the only thing on offer here) and continued on towards our goal. We had 9km to go at this point and it was just about 2:30. I was privately aiming for a goal of finishing by 3 p.m.

The route remained flat at this point, and with a tailwind, but we were getting away form the river and into buildings. We soon passed the convenience store where I’d stopped last year for some much-needed water and calories. (We noted some other riders stopping there this year.) We took one more break with just 4km to go and then steamed along to our goal, getting passed by groups of speedier riders along the way.

With the sky darkening and my hands once again aching, we rounded the corner at Ishinomaki Senshu University and crossed the finish line side by side. I stopped the clock at 2:59 p.m., 7 hours and 9 minutes after our departure.

The ride included 902m of ascent. On a moving time of 5:10:27, I averaged 18.9km/h, which is faster than I’d expected. Our 3 p.m. finish gave us plenty of time to pick up refreshments from the convenience store, head back to the hotel and soak in a hot bath before dinner.

Bicycles of the Tour

In a field of Pinarello, Trek and Specialized bicycles, a few stood out. I didn’t see the die-hard rider who brought a single-speed bike, but one old gaijin showed up on a fully kitted-out gravel bike with fork-mounted bags and steel water bottles.

Other niceties

We stayed in a good hotel in Onagawa, just a 15-minute drive from the starting point. The best part of the hotel was the fabulous kaiseki dinners, but the views from the room and the parking lot weren’t bad, either.