Bifue Campground at Lake Shikotsu (Hokkaido, Japan)

Bifue Campground is one of the best spots to enjoy the views that Lake Shikotsu has to offer. Situated on the western end of this lake in southern Hokkaido, Japan, the well-appointed campground faces east, allowing expansive views of Mt. Eniwa, Mt. Fuppushi, Mt. Tarumae, and of course the lake itself. Haidee and I headed there by bike recently from Chitose for a quick overnight trip.

Camping at the Bifue Campground on Lake Shikotsu, Hokkaido, Japan

Lake Shikotsu is a favorite for us for an overnighter. It’s only 25km from our house, so it’s an easy 2 hour bike ride on completely separated cycle path the whole way. Usually we’d stay at the Morappu Campground, but this time around, we decided to cycle an extra 18km to the western end of the lake to stay at the Bifue Campground. We’d never stayed there before. With winter fast approaching, this was one of the last weekend’s we’d have to try the campground out.

Cycling from Chitose City to Lake Shikotsu, Hokkaido, Japan

As usual, we followed the Chitose-Lake Shikotsu cycleway (route here). I was on the mighty Tern Verge S27h (renamed for 2016 the Tern Verge Tour), with a full complement of camping gear.

Cycling from Chitose City to Lake Shikotsu, Hokkaido, Japan

At this time of year (early October), the kokuwa (hardy kiwi) wild fruit are ripe for the picking. These mini smooth-skinned kiwifruit are delicious, but are very difficult to access. The vines like very high-up places. As it was, however, the cycleway was covered in them due to recent tail end of a typhoon in the previous few days. The high winds had dropped them all along the path (along with copious amount of branches).

Cycling from Chitose City to Lake Shikotsu, Hokkaido, Japan

We would have spent some more time foraging, but we were a little pressed for time; if we were going to get to the Lake Shikotsu village for lunch, we were going to have to keep moving.

We left home in central Chitose at around 10:00am, and arrived at Lake Shikotsu village at around 12:30pm. We were tempted by the Mizu-no-Uta buffet lunch (which we indulged in for lunch the following day), but opted instead for a quick lunch of udon and snacks.

Cycling from Chitose City to Lake Shikotsu, Hokkaido, Japan

Post-lunch, we started towards Bifue Campground, almost 20km around the lake. Overall, apart from one very short stretch of gravel, the Saturday afternoon ride was below average on the fun and relaxation scale. Regular large trucks thundering past, a headwind breeze, lots of ups and downs, and very few decent views of the lake meant that we were well and truly ready to relax by the lake by the time we made it to the campgound.

Cycling from Chitose City to Lake Shikotsu, Hokkaido, Japan

Access to the campground was down a long driveway, dotted with large puddles from the rain in the preceding days.

Cycling from Chitose City to Lake Shikotsu, Hokkaido, Japan

The hectic approach was made up for, however, by the breathtaking view that awaited us at the campground.

Camping at the Bifue Campground on Lake Shikotsu, Hokkaido, Japan

We spent a few moments scoping the place out before hurrying to set up the tent and get some dinner on the go. Even at the beginning of October in Hokkaido, the temperatures are dropping, and we wanted to get some warm food in us.

Camping at the Bifue Campground on Lake Shikotsu, Hokkaido, Japan

Bifue Campground is also very good in terms of facilities. There are washers and dryers, coin-operated showers, a basic shop, and of course clean ablution blocks and covered outdoor kitchen areas. As of writing (early October 2015), it cost 1,000yen per person per night to stay.

The clear starry night views were more than worth it.

Camping at the Bifue Campground on Lake Shikotsu, Hokkaido, Japan

We had opted to camp on the volcanic-sand beach, which would have been fine, had there not been sporadic squalls roll through during the wee hours of the morning. Gusts of wind and rain meant that at one point we had to hurriedly take down our tarp. Only six of the eight pegs were pegged into hard ground, and the other two had come loose.

The morning broke calm, however, with some amazing golden hour light.

Camping at the Bifue Campground on Lake Shikotsu, Hokkaido, Japan

Camping at the Bifue Campground on Lake Shikotsu, Hokkaido, Japan

Camping at the Bifue Campground on Lake Shikotsu, Hokkaido, Japan

On the menu for breakfast was fresh coffee…

Camping at the Bifue Campground on Lake Shikotsu, Hokkaido, Japan

And croissants, warmed in a pot.

Camping at the Bifue Campground on Lake Shikotsu, Hokkaido, Japan

When the sun peeked out from the clouds, it was quite warm. Otherwise, the temperatures hovered around 5 to 8 degrees C. We weren’t the only ones making the most of the autumn weather, however. At least a couple of sets of people had paddled by while we were having breakfast, either in canoes or kayaks.

Camping at the Bifue Campground on Lake Shikotsu, Hokkaido, Japan

We were packed up and on the road by 9am, and sped back east along the lake towards the Lake Shikotsu village. The headwind we’d had yesterday was now a tailwind, and we made good time. Also being a Sunday, the traffic was less heavy and noisy.

On the Lake Shikotsu Cycle Path near Bifue Campground, Hokkaido, Japan

The big mission for today was to splash out and have a buffet lunch at Mizu-no-Uta hotel. This US$400 plus a night hotel has one of the best value buffet lunches in Hokkaido (we think). For 2,800yen per person, you get access to their amazing buffet lunch plus entry to their hotspring onsen. Both are exceptional. Very well worth a visit every now and then, even more so after a chilly morning camping! Talk about luxury.

Mizu no Uta Onsen, Lake Shikotsu, Hokkaido, Japan

Lunch buffet at Mizu no Uta Onsen, Lake Shikotsu, Hokkaido, Japan

The outdoor pool at the Mizu no Uta Onsen, Lake Shikotsu, Hokkaido, Japan

Inside the onsen at Mizu no Uta Onsen, Lake Shikotsu, Hokkaido, Japan

Refreshed after a leisurely lunch and onsen, all we had to do in the afternoon was roll on downhill back home along the cycle path.

On the Chitose Cycle Path to Lake Shikotsu, Hokkaido, Japan

On the Chitose Cycle Path to Lake Shikotsu, Hokkaido, Japan

On the Chitose Cycle Path to Lake Shikotsu, Hokkaido, Japan

A moving bike selfie on the Chtiose Cycle path to Lake Shikotsu, Hokkaido, Japan

Bifue Campground at Lake Shikotsu. Highly recommended!

Exploring the dead straight Kita Go-jo forestry road in Chitose City, Hokkaido, Japan

The Kita Go-jo Rindo (rindo means forestry road in Japanese) is a conspicuously straight closed-to-general traffic dirt road in Chitose City, Hokkaido, Japan. It more or less connects Chitose City proper with the Lake Shikotsu area, and makes for a very nice day trip from Chitose to the lake.

Kita Go-Jo Rindo topographical map (via GSI)

This particular forestry road has long held my attention whenever I looked at maps of the forests between Chitose City proper and Lake Shikotsu. We’ve cycled the more curvy dirt road to the north on more than one occasion (such as the Mt. Tarumae trip, a Lake Shikotsu overnighter from Sapporo, and a more recent Summer Solstice trip), but I’ve always wanted to try heading just a little deeper into the maze of dirt roads and try the Kita Go-Jo road out.

So today, Haidee and I headed out from Chitose late in the morning to try it out. Being our first time to cycle uphill from Chitose to Lake Shikotsu via the dirt roads, it would prove to be a little tiring. Like it’s more curvy brother to the north, the Kita Go-Jo straight road was ‘paved’ with what appeared to be railway-grade gravel. Real tooth-filling-rattling stuff. And it sure was straight.

On the super straight Go-jo rindo (forestry road) in Chitose City, near Lake Shikotsu, Hokkaido, Japan

Such was the deadpan straightness of the road that this was more or less the only photo I took of the ride on gravel. “I’m pretty much over this,” was Haidee’s general view of the route. I was inclined to agree, thinking that this route would be amazing if going the other way. In the opposite direction it would be a fairly even downhill gradient, and with some big, soft tires, it would be a very fast ride.

Our ultimate destination was the Lake Shikotsu township, on the shores of Lake Shikotsu, the large caldera lake west of Chitose City proper (but still within the city limits). Once we hit the Chitose-Lake Shikotsu cycleway, we first pumped our tires up back to pavement-pressures. The PostPump that comes standard with the Tern folding bikes made short work of this.

Using the Biologic PostPump on the Chitose cycle road, Hokkaido, Japan

From there we headed straight to Lake Shikotsu township, arriving just before it started a steady light rain.

Today was the Lake Shikotsu festival. Celebrated with a generous helping of lake-caught sockeye salmon (introduced to the lake many years ago) cooked over hot coals. Delicious.

Sockeye salmon in Lake Shikotsu township, Hokkaido, Japan

Sockeye salmon in Lake Shikotsu township, Hokkaido, Japan

This was followed up by coffee at the Log Bear Coffee House, run by the effervescent Hideyuki Kikkawa. He roasts his own coffee in his kitchen out the back of the cafe, in a home made LPG gas burner coffee roaster.

Hideyuki Kikkawa owner of Log Bear Coffee House roasting coffee (Lake Shikotsu township, Hokkaido, Japan)

Hideyuki Kikkawa owner of Log Bear Coffee House roasting coffee (Lake Shikotsu township, Hokkaido, Japan)

Interestingly for us, Mr. Kikkawa, who also runs the Lake Shikotsu Youth Hostel, mentioned that it is possible to use the youth hostel’s hotspring baths (onsen) in the evening, even if you’re not staying there. “Other onsen in Shikotsu-ko recirculate their hot water,” he said.

“Our onsen is never recirculated, it is always fresh. And the spring water quality is very good for the skin,” he boasted, lightly drawing his hand across the skin of his inner and upper arm. Lightly pinching the soft skin hanging under his outstretched upper arm, he said “see look, it makes you nice and soft!” After which he let out his hilarious full-bellied laugh.

This is to say, we had thought that all onsen in Lake Shikotsu shut their doors to day visitors after around 4pm. This new info means that even when camping, it is possible to have a soak in the evening.

We headed off back towards Chitose City proper via the paved cycle path around 2pm. Since the going was easy and the gradient downhill, we felt happy to drop in on some attractions we’d not been to so far, such as the turn-of-the-century Chitose hydro electric station, and a sockeye salmon hatchery.

The Chitose hydro electric station (location here), built in 1910 was perhaps the most surprising. We’d not known it had existed until today, despite being on the edge of a very impressive valley to the north.

The Chitose River hydro electric power station, Hokkaido, Japan

The power station mainly supplies the Oji Paper Corporation’s paper factories in nearby Tomakomai City, and has been doing so since the power station was built. The water from the power station comes from Lake Shikotsu, via the Chitose River, and has a head of around 150m. Definitely worth a look if you’re heading through the area.

The other attraction was the sockeye salmon hatchery (location here).

Sockeye salmon in the information center along the Chitose cycleway, Hokkaido, Japan

Sockeye salmon in the information center along the Chitose cycleway, Hokkaido, Japan

Fishes on their way to being skewered and cooked up to a delightful treat.

From there it was downhill all the way home to Chitose, ending a great day out.

Cycle road connecting Lake Shikotsu and Chitose City, Hokkaido, Japan

Summer Solstice Overnight Cycle Trip to Lake Shikotsu (Hokkaido, Japan)

Sometimes the stars align and your younger brother you’ve not seen in a year comes to Japan for the weekend. When that weekend is the summer solstice, there’s only one way to celebrate: get him on a bike and take him to one of the most pristine lakes in Hokkaido for a camp-out.

Morappu Campground, Hokkaido, Japan (Lake Shikotsu)

Chris didn’t travel all the way from New Zealand just for a weekend in Hokkaido (although that certainly would not have been a waste of time). He happened to be in China the week before, and had a stop off in Tokyo on his way back to New Zealand. He made the 1.5 hour flight from Tokyo to Sapporo on a Friday night, and we had a full two days to explore.

We are fortunate to live in Chitose City, only 25km from Lake Shikotsu. Lake Shikotsu is a caldera lake, and is one of Hokkaido’s deepest lakes. Best of all, there is a perfectly paved cycle path all the way from central Chitose to the lake, winding its way through cool forest. We packed up some camping gear on Saturday morning, and were out the door by 11am.

Tern Verge S27h (Chitose City, Japan)

We put Chris on my Tern Verge S27h folding touring bike. His first reaction upon riding it before we set off was that “it looks like a kid’s bike, but it doesn’t ride like one!” That pretty much sums up the Tern Verge S27h. Looks are deceiving.

That said, I think for him (height: 183cm), the stock 6° handlepost (350mm length) would be better replaced by the 12° version (http://premiumbikegear.com/product/tern-physis-3d-t-bar-handlepost/). For me, the 6° version provides acceptable effective top-tube length, although perhaps a little longer would replicate the cockpit feel of my bigger bike (a Surly Karate Monkey, converted for touring).

Tern Verge S27h (Chitose City, Japan)

That said, any intricacies in geometry were largely lost on Chris as he well and truly put the bike through its paces. On road…

Tern Verge S27h (Chitose City, Japan)

And off-road…

Tern Verge S27h (Chitose City, Japan)

The Chitose-Lake Shikotsu cycle road is a completely separated cycleway, which I have written about previously (http://14degrees.org/lake-shikotsu-to-chitose-cycling-road-cycle-path-in-hokkaido/). This was the first time we had taken the trip on from the Chitose City end. The previous few times we were going the other way, downhill to Chitose. While the other direction – from Chitose to Lake Shikotsu – is a climb all the way, the gradient is always very gentle.

Tern Verge S27h (Chitose City, Japan)

We arrived at Lake Shikotsu at around 3:30pm, whereby we went straight to the Kyuka-no-mura hot spring for a soak. It was my first time to share a Japanese hotspring experience with my brother. It was mildly weird.

Hotspring formalities over, we tracked down a feed of local kokanee (sockeye) salmon, and made it to Morappu Campground on the southeastern side of Lake Shikotsu just as the sun was setting. I went for a swim. It was properly cold.

We were taken aback at how many campers were there. On all our other trips (either later or earlier in the season) we’ve often been the only ones camping. Tonight, it was like tent city. Like most Japanese campsites, however, the mobs were subdued and orderly.

Morappu Campground, Hokkaido, Japan (Lake Shikotsu)

Day broke the next morning (at just before 4am) clear and warm. Most campers were rousing themselves at around 6am. By 6:30am, the tent city was positively heaving with activity. Barbeques were being stoked, kayaks paddled, and children encouraged to explore the shoreline.

Morappu Campground, Hokkaido, Japan (Lake Shikotsu)

We had managed to put our tents up in a clear space towards the northern end of the campground.

Morappu Campground, Hokkaido, Japan (Lake Shikotsu)

We didn’t get away until just after 10am…it was just too idyllic.

There was only one other cycle tourist at the campground that we knew of. And it happened to be Kumiko, someone I’ve met by chance on two other occasions while either attending bicycle-related events or cycle touring. Kumiko has only ever owned one bicycle in her life, and that is the Surly Pugsley she is riding now. When I asked her what it was like to cycle on pavement with the bike, she explained that she’s not got anything to compare it to, so it feels just fine. The frame bag and other packs attached to the bike are all home made.

Kumiko and her awesome XS sized Surly Pugsley with self-made custom bike packs (Lake Shikotsu, Hokkaido, Japan)

Once were were on the road again, it was straight to one of my favorite rides in the Chitose region: the Kita Go-Jo rindo. This delightful slither of very rough gravel road runs through beautiful forest all the way to Chitose City proper, and towards the end runs parallel to a beautiful little creek.

The perfect place to see if the 20-inch wheeled folding bike can take a beating.

Tern Verge S27h folding touring bicycle (Chitose City, Japan)

The conditions of this road should not be under-stated. On my 29er Karate Monkey, with 50mm wide rims and 60mm wide tires, I’ve come away snake-bite punctures on the jagged blocky gravel. Such is life when you want to have the least amount of tire pressure in order to smooth out the bumps, but not too little pressure that the tire ‘bottoms out’ and pinches the tube between the tire and rim.

Tern Verge S27h folding touring bicycle (Chitose City, Japan)

The Tern Verge S27h with its 2.15-inch (55mm) wide tires performs really well even on these rocks. “The best strategy is just to go really fast,” said Chris as he careened past me. I couldn’t agree more.

Tern Verge S27h folding touring bicycle (Chitose City, Japan)

Not to be one to be outdone, however, I cranked past him in order to get some distance in front of him so I might get a photo of him coming towards me. I gained around 100m on him, rounded a corner, and dropped my bike and waited.

And waited.

When he did finally appear around the corner, however, he was pushing the bike. The pressure in the tires was a little too low, it seemed, and he’d ended up with a snakebite puncture.

Tern Verge S27h folding touring bicycle (Chitose City, Japan)

Tern Verge S27h folding touring bicycle (Chitose City, Japan)

We managed to fix the puncture(s) fairly quickly, without the need to remove the back wheel. It all made me wonder if it would be at all possible to run the 20-inch Big Apples tubeless…

Tern Verge S27h folding touring bicycle (Chitose City, Japan)

Puncture sorted, we were on the road again.

Tern Verge S27h folding touring bicycle (Chitose City, Japan)

Milking every last drop of speed.

Tern Verge S27h folding touring bicycle (Chitose City, Japan)

And we were soon (all too soon) back on pavement.

Tern Verge S27h folding touring bicycle (Chitose City, Japan)

All in all a fantastic way to spend a weekend, happy that Hokkaido had put on some awesome weather in one of our favorite locations in Japan.

——-

As mentioned earlier, Chris was on my Tern Verge S27h (see my gravel road review here). The bike is set up with an 11-speed Shimano Alfine hub (42-tooth chainring with 21-tooth cog on the hub), which replaces the stock Sram Dual Drive transmission. The rear wheel is built up with the Alfine hub and a Velocity Aeroheat rim. A Hebie Chainglider provides full coverage of the chain, with very little added friction. On the front of the bike is the Luggage Truss, to which an Ortlieb Handlebar bag is attached. The panniers are some cheap second hand ones that drape over the rear carrier. The saddle is a Selle Anatomica leather saddle. And yes, the kickstand is broken. I managed to land on it when jumping off a curb, which snapped it in half :-(

Tern Verge S27h folding touring bicycle (Chitose City, Japan)

An easy hike up Mt. Shioya Maruyama near Sapporo, Japan

Mt. Shioya-Maryuama (629m) is an easy hike close to Sapporo City. Access is by bus or car, and makes for a nice hike through lowland bush with large expansive views over the Shakotan Peninsula at the top.

A hike up Mt. Shioya Maruyama near Sapporo, Japan

For most hiking enthusiasts in Sapporo City (in Hokkaido, Japan), a popular summer hiking route is the one that goes up Mt. Shioya-Maruyama. This easy route is less than two hours drive from Sapporo City, and is officially within the Otaru City limits.

For this trip, we had two cars for the group. One rented and one from one of the group. If you’ve not got a car, the official start of the hike is a 15 minute walk from the Shioya-Maruyama JR train station.

The trail starts along enclosed bush along a well-traveled trail.

A hike up Mt. Shioya Maruyama near Sapporo, Japan

After less than 90 minutes, the trail opens up to views over the northern coast of the Shakotan Peninsula. On this particular day some low cloud obstructed the best of the views.

A hike up Mt. Shioya Maruyama near Sapporo, Japan

The top of this low mountain is characterized by bare boulder outcrops. Perfect for a sun-soaked lunch at the top.

A hike up Mt. Shioya Maruyama near Sapporo, Japan

On this trip we spent a leisurely 45 minutes on the top before making our way down again.

A hike up Mt. Shioya Maruyama near Sapporo, Japan

The day was finished off with a pancake party at Stephanie’s place. A shoebox of an apartment in the Hokkaido University international scholars’ accommodation. We made the most of the space :-)

A hike up Mt. Shioya Maruyama near Sapporo, Japan

Aoba Park Campground (Chitose City, Hokkaido, Japan)

Aoba Park Picnic Grounds (Campground) is at the southern end of central Chitose City, only 5km from Sapporo International Airport. If you’re arriving to or leaving Hokkaido by air with a bike, it would be a nice spot to stay the night after or before a flight. Or, just for a nice get away in the Sapporo region.

Chitose City is hardly high on a tourist’s list of places to see. Granted, if you’re coming by airplane to Hokkaido, Japan’s northern-most island, it is difficult to avoid it. It is home to ‘Sapporo’ airport. But in reality, Sapporo’s airport is actually in Chitose City, a solid 30 minutes (40km) by express train from central Sapporo.

In any case, Chitose City itself is rarely anything other than a transit location for most tourists, both Japanese and non-Japanese. Sure, there’s Lake Shikotsu, which is officially (just) within the city limits. This pristine caldera lake is home to plenty of hiking, skiing, and camping options. But it is so far from the city center itself, that it is difficult to really consider it part of the city.

The point is, Chitose City itself is a bit of an enigma. It is easy just to think of the place as somewhere where commuters and airport staff begrudgingly house themselves during non-working hours. But once one starts to poke and probe at its mysterious shell, it starts revealing some startlingly beautiful locations well within the urban sprawl. One such place is the colossal Aoba Park.

Camping and BBQ in Aoba Park, Chitose City, Hokkaido, Japan

This sprawling 1km2 (102.3ha) park is home to jaw-droppingly well-equipped track and field ovals, tennis courts, soccer fields, baseball fields, and a huge swathe of wild forest.

Camping and BBQ in Aoba Park, Chitose City, Hokkaido, Japan

Tucked away in the south-western corner of the park is the Aoba Park Picnic Area (aoba kouen pikunikku hiroba, 青葉公園ピクニック広場). The name is a little misleading, because it is as much a campground as it is a picnic area. BBQ facilities can be rented between the hours of 9am and 5pm for not much more than 100yen, but beyond those hours, campers can set up tents on raised tent plots for 300yen (Chitose City citizens) or 600yen (visitors from outside Chitose). There is a very nice onsen (Japanese hot spring) just 15 minutes walk from the campground too (open till 10:30pm); perfect for a soak after setting up the tents. The onsen is right next to the Chitose Inter Golf Club.

Camping and BBQ in Aoba Park, Chitose City, Hokkaido, Japan

Camping and BBQ in Aoba Park, Chitose City, Hokkaido, Japan

The staff are friendly (especially the effervescent Mr. Kutsuwa), and the little BBQ in the photo above is supplied free with the campground fee (charcoal not included).

The campground happens to be less than 15 minutes from where we live in Chitose, so we decided to load up our bikes with camping and BBQ equipment and stay a Saturday night there with some friends.

A heavily loaded Tern Verge S27h folding bicycle (Chitose City, Hokkaido, Japan)

We were at the campground on the 23rd of May. “This is still very early in the year for camping,” said the enthusiastic Mr. Kutsuwa. He said there had been a couple of travelers stay earlier, but the busiest season won’t start till June.

Being late May, Mr. Kutsuwa was slowly making his way around the campsites, clearing twigs and leaves from tentsites that had accumulated over winter. One of those campsites was the kabutomushi (rhinoceros beetle) site; all the sites had insect names. This site had tentsites covered in the most amazing layer of soft moss. We quickly opted for this spot and set up camp.

Camping and BBQ in Aoba Park, Chitose City, Hokkaido, Japan

By 6pm we had tents set up, our charcoal BBQ hot, and the drinks and food ready.

Camping and BBQ in Aoba Park, Chitose City, Hokkaido, Japan

No one had a wine bottle cork removal implement with them, so I did as I have before, using my Leatherman. The steps are as follows: Find a wood screw (there is always one somewhere in a campground), remove it from whatever wood it is currently screwed into, screw it into the cork, grab the screw head with the pliers on the Leatherman, and pull. Cork is now removed. (Return the screw to previous location.)

Camping and BBQ in Aoba Park, Chitose City, Hokkaido, Japan

Before long it was night time and time for an onsen. Walking through a pitch black dark park is always so exciting…

Camping and BBQ in Aoba Park, Chitose City, Hokkaido, Japan

The next morning broke with clear skies and no wind. Everyone in good spirits.

Camping and BBQ in Aoba Park, Chitose City, Hokkaido, Japan

Breakfast consisted of BBQ goodness…

Camping and BBQ in Aoba Park, Chitose City, Hokkaido, Japan

Including Japanese imo-mochi (mashed potato with potato starch shallow fried, with a dash of soy sauce)…

Camping and BBQ in Aoba Park, Chitose City, Hokkaido, Japan

And of course coffee brewed in a mokapot atop a beer can alcohol stove, the stove made the day before.

Camping and BBQ in Aoba Park, Chitose City, Hokkaido, Japan

The perfect spot for an overnight weekend adventure.

Camping and BBQ in Aoba Park, Chitose City, Hokkaido, Japan

Traveling with a Tern folding bike on the train in Japan

In Japan, traveling on the train with a bicycle is both a blessing and a curse. These are the pros and cons, as I see them.

Pros

  • You don’t pay extra for taking a bike on the train in Japan. Even on the mighty shinkansen bullet trains. Nada.
  • You can take a bike on any train at any time on any carriage.

Cons

  • You have to partially dismantle the bike. That is, at the very least, remove the front wheel. If your bike is of the folding variety, you’re off the hook – no dismantling required.
  • The bike must be completely covered with a bike bag (or wrapped in something such as a 500 yen large blue tarpaulin).
  • There are no ‘bicycle areas’ on the trains. This means that if your bike doesn’t fold down small, you may need to stay with your bike and move it when people want to move between carriages etc.

Long story short, if you own a small-wheeled folding bike, traveling on a train in Japan can be extremely straight forward. Here’s how the intrepid Virgina Toy from New Zealand managed it when she visited Sapporo on a whirling academic research visit to Sapporo in northern Japan. I stood back and snapped pictures as she got the bike ready for the train.

Step 1 – Pack your panniers into a lightweight fold-up sack, and attach this to your fold-up trolley. You do have a lightweight fold-up trolley, right? Virginia bought this one for $15 at an electronics store in Sapporo.

Packing up a Tern folding bicycle for train travel in Sapporo station, Japan

Packing up a Tern folding bicycle for train travel in Sapporo station, Japan

Step 2 – Panniers snugly ensconced in their bag and trolley, time to sort out the bike. Prepare the bike bag.

Packing up a Tern folding bicycle for train travel in Sapporo station, Japan

Step 3 – Fold the bike. Virginia travels extensively around the world on academic conference trips and the likes with her Tern Link P24h. The ‘N-fold’ is very simple, and best of all, the bike stays standing upright once folded.

Packing up a Tern folding bicycle for train travel in Sapporo station, Japan

Step 4 – Get that bike in the bag. Virginia’s bike bag is a Tern padded ‘Stow Bag’ made of extra heavy duty fabric and has some degree of padding. She puts the bike on planes just with this bag and the bike seems to have survived multiple inter-continental flights.

Packing up a Tern folding bicycle for train travel in Sapporo station, Japan

Step 5 – Shoulder the bike-in-the-bag, grab the trolley, and head to the ticket dispenser, parting the crowds like Moses and the Red Sea.

Packing up a Tern folding bicycle for train travel in Sapporo station, Japan

Step 6 – Buy the ticket.

Packing up a Tern folding bicycle for train travel in Sapporo station, Japan

Step 7 – Squeeze through the gates and look for an elevator up to the platform. TOP TIP: Trains stop at pre-determined locations on Japanese platforms; find the end or front of the train that you’re fixing to board – end or front carriages usually have less people in them, and less thoroughfare. You’ll spend less time stressing about whether your bike is getting in someone’s way. Also, use the handrails etc to secure the bike from falling over…then just enjoy the ride.

Packing up a Tern folding bicycle for train travel in Sapporo station, Japan

Southwest Hokkaido Cycle Tour Day 5 – Leaving Kuromatsunai by Train

Our final day on our cycle tour in southern Hokkaido involved more train travel than bicycle travel. Needing to be back to work the next day, we bundled the bikes on the train and enjoyed a relaxing journey through the mountains back home.

Taking bicycles on the train in Japan is fairly easy, so long as you come prepared. By prepared, I mean some way of covering and/or wrapping your bicycle. For Haidee and I, we have perfectly-sized bicycle bags that fit our folded bicycles. For Dirk and his 29er mountain bike, I lent him my homemade stretchy mesh ‘bag’, which happily engulfs a bike of that size. Trains do not charge any extra for bicycles, and there are no dedicated ‘bicycle-friendly’ carriages. Just pick your entrance and go for it.

Note: There was no station master at the Kuromatsunai Station…that’s why we were able to sneakily roll our bikes onto the platform. Usually bikes need to be packed before being taken onto the platform.

Packing a Bike Friday folding bike up at Kuromatsunai Station, Hokkaido, Japan

Packing bicycles for the train at Kuromatsunai Station, Hokkaido, Japan

Folding the Tern Verge S27h folding touring bicycle

We were catching the train from the super sleepy Kuromatsunai station. We had arrived 30 minutes early, so enjoyed the warmth of the morning sun on the platform.

At Kuromatsunai Station, Hokkaido, Japan

Even once we were on the train (a quaint two-carriage one-driver train), we had it to ourselves.

On the one-man train near Ranshima (Hokkaido, Japan)

We had chosen a route that would take us through the mountains via Niseko and Otaru towards Sapporo. This is always a nice route to take by train; the trains are uncrowded, and the scenery is spectacular.

On the one-man train on the Niseko line near Ranshima (Hokkaido, Japan)

We arrived back in Chitose around 1pm, enough time to eat lunch out, and get all our equipment washed and packed away before getting back to work the next day.

All in all, an awesome few days on the bikes, and well worth the extra effort of getting there and away by train.

Today’s Route (by train)

NOTE: The route map below may show the Hakodate-Line selected…we took the more northern-looping route in grey, via Niseko, Otaru, and Sapporo.

Southwest Hokkaido Cycle Tour Day 4 – Setana to Kuromatsunai

We were beaten by the hills and snow yesterday, but today we soldiered onward via the alternate route: the magnificent Japan Sea coast road. With a roaring tailwind to boot.

One purpose of yesterday’s attempt at crossing the Kariba range was to avoid the Japan Sea coast north of Setana Town. The tunnels dotted along this coastal route were the reason for our reluctance to take on this bit of road. Indeed, we were on the road not even a few hours before we hit the dreaded caverns.

Tunnels on Route 229 around the Japan Sea coast, Hokkaido, Japan

Surprisingly, however, most of the longer (over 1km long) tunnels were very new: well lit with wide lanes. The lack of traffic also made them much more hospitable than they might have otherwise been.

Tunnels on Route 229 around the Japan Sea coast, Hokkaido, Japan

And most of the tunnels spat us out into more rugged coastal scenes.

Tunnels on Route 229 around the Japan Sea coast, Hokkaido, Japan

The highlight of the day, however, was the roaring tailwind that blew us most of the way to Kuromatsunai. The forecast was for 35km/h gusting south-easterlies. We were going more or less north-west. A perfect combination. Smiles all around.

Route 229 around the Japan Sea coast, Hokkaido, Japan

Wheelies on the Tern Verge s27h in Hokkaido, Japan

Even after we had left the coast, in order to cut inland to Kuromatsunai, the tailwind followed us. This made the climb up the 400 meter pass on the way to Kuromatsunai easier to bear…nothing quite like the invisible hand of a stiff tailwind to help you up a hill.

Curiously, the top of the pass was enveloped in massive concrete snow shelters. Quite the engineering (and national-budgeting) feat.

On route 523 to Kuromatsunai Hokkaido, Japan

The presence of a wind farm near the pass suggested that the shelters were warranted; if the wind we experienced today was accompanied by snow (as is surely the case in winter here), the pass would have been smothered in no time.

On route 523 to Kuromatsunai Hokkaido, Japan

With our early 7am start and the howling tailwind, we completed the 90km from Setana to Kuromatsunai by 2pm. We checked into the only campground in Kuromatsunai, the Le Pic Auto Campground. Unfortunately they didn’t have any non-powered tent sites left, so we rented a powered site for the night. This worked out to be around 1,700 yen each.

Camping at a campground in Kuromatsunai, Hokkaido, Japan

It was a nice treat to arrive at our campsite so early. I bought a bundle of firewood for 600 yen (approx. US$6) and some weaner sausages, intent on having a campfire, a rare treat on our cycle trips.

Camping at a campground in Kuromatsunai, Hokkaido, Japan

The extra time on our hands also allowed me to have a go at making a beer can stove (to run on alcohol). I’ve made such stoves before (such as when I was in Switzerland), but the design I’ve used previously uses high temperature aluminium tape to seal the unit, and required the patience to pierce holes in the can. I’d seen on www.tomsbiketrip.com a design that promised to be much more straight forward, so I gave it a go.

The result was a perfectly usable stove that boiled a liter of water in around 10 minutes or so (when paired with a windscreen). Not nearly as fuel efficient as the MSR Whisperlite Internationale (I use gasoline as a fuel in this), but a fun little stove and super easy and cheap to make.

Tom's Bike Trip beer can stove at Kuromatsunai campground, Hokkaido, Japan

The late afternoon crept into dusk and then night, as we chatted around the campfire. We were all in bed by just after 9pm.

Camping at a campground in Kuromatsunai, Hokkaido, Japan

Drawing a scene at night at the Lu Picc Campground in Kuromatsunai, Hokkaido, Japan

Today’s Route

Southwest Hokkaido Cycle Tour Day 3 – Taisei to the Bear’s Nest

Gravel roads, pushing bikes through snow, and tough decisions…with our cycle touring team now three – counting the addition of Dirk – we set off this morning for what became the most adventurous day of this Golden Week ramble in southern Hokkaido.

The day started out easy enough though: a gentle tailwind along the same placid Japan Sea coast we’d enjoyed the day before. Weather benign.

Cycling on Route 229 near Setana, Hokkaido, Japan

Even the small hump in the road between Taisei and Setana Town was nothing to write home about; a short and sharp uphill followed by a meandering long downhill race to where the fun would really begin.

Cycling on Route 229 near Setana, Hokkaido, Japan

It was always the plan for today to be our ‘off-the-beaten-track’ day. I had spied a very nice looking forestry road that linked Setana with Shimamaki on the northern coast of the Oshima Peninsula of southern Hokkaido. The route is marked as unconnected on Google maps, but the trusty Touring Mapple map book shows it connected by a gravel road over a high pass. The route runs north from Setana Town initially on route 345 along side Makomanai River, up to the Makomanai Dam.

By all accounts, our probable success of crossing the pass on the dirt road was close to zero as we set off from Setana. At the hotspring hotel we’d visited the previous day I had asked the concierge about the route. He was taken aback and said unequivocally that the road did not connect to Shimamaki in the north. “Perhaps there used to be a road over there, but there’s nothing there now,” he said with conviction. “Us locals, we call that area the bear’s nest. Two people were killed there last year. The police shot a bear up there last month, and they think they linked DNA from the bear to the bodies, but I still find the place spooky.” He seemed genuinely afraid of the woods we were proposing to penetrate with our bikes.

“You’ve got bear bells, right? I went up there once, but only got 500 meters up the closed section of the road before turning back. The trees are like a dark canopy, making the whole area seem creepy. I was too scared to carry on.”

I thanked him for his information, and said we’d take it into account. I was of course skeptical. So often on my travels, locals, who could hardly imagine cycling across town, let alone across a mountain pass, would declare a route impassible, impractical, and sure to end in death and disaster. Not once had the advice held any merit.

Upon arriving in Setana Town, however, we were starting to wonder if there was something more practical that might thwart our mission: snow.

Dirk had pulled into the convenience store in town, and we followed suit, keen to get a hot cup of coffee and put on some more layers. The benign weather was turning cool, with threatening-looking rain clouds hovering over the mountains to the north.

Glorious Seicomart convenience store coffee at Kitahiyama, Hokkaido, Japan

“So, did you bring your skis?” I quizzed Dirk jokingly.

“I was thinking exactly the same thing,” Dirk replied, laughing. “Those mountains look very snowy.”

We consulted the map over our cups of coffee, and decided that it was unlikely the dirt-road pass would be much over 500 meters in altitude. We would find out many days later that our guestimation was wildly inaccurate, but by our reckoning at the time, we might see some snow, but not enough to thwart our crossing.

As we made our way up the valley, however, my confidence in our snow-free convictions was wavering. Before us stood what seemed to be one great wall of late spring-snow-bound hills, with no immediately apparent way through, the majestic Mt. Kariba rising to the west at a height of 1,520 meters.

On route 345 north of Kitahiyama, Hokkaido, Japan

We were obviously heading to a deadend as far as automobiles were concerned; we essentially had the road – and glorious scenery – to ourselves. Lake Makomanai with its deep black waters seemed equal parts ominous and starkly beautiful.

At Makomanai Dam north of Kitahiyama, Hokkaido, Japan

Below: The mighty Tern Verge S27h rearing for some dirt-road action. Bear-spray handy in the Alpkit feedbag attached to the handlebars.

At Makomanai Dam north of Kitahiyama, Hokkaido, Japan

Before long we arrived at the locked gate which formed a border between smooth paved road and the start of the dirt road. Just as we were pushing our bikes around the gate, a small Suzuki 4WD drove up. Two couples of 60-somethings squeezed out, and wandered up to say hello. They were up here to search out springtime mountain vegetables: bamboo shoots and other edible shoots.

“I suppose you’re fixing to get to Shimamaki, right?” said  a guy who looked around 60. “That’s a nice route, but it’s still way to early. There were folks playing around on snowmobiles on the other side of the pass just yesterday.”

I liked the guy already. There was nothing in his demeanor that suggested he considered us incapable of the task of cycling over the pass, had it been free of snow. I sensed a knowing appreciation of what we wanted to do; there was no attempt to turn us back right there and then. Still, I had my doubts. Perhaps, just perhaps, the road would be just snowy enough for snowmobiles, but not snowy enough to impede our progress on bikes entirely.

I said we’d cycle up for a bit and see how things panned out. Once again I was impressed with his demeanor; him and his fellow foragers seemed almost happy that we’d take the time to explore up the road and find out for ourselves. “Have fun!” one of the old women called out to us as we set off up the road.

Trying out the Makomanai forestry road from Kitahiyama to Shimamaki, Hokkaido, Japan

Signs warned of bear activity, but none seemed up to date. Nonetheless, Haidee kept up a reassuring stream of singing as she bumped her way along the branch-strewn track on her Bike Friday folding bike.

Trying out the Makomanai forestry road from Kitahiyama to Shimamaki, Hokkaido, Japan

The more we ascended up the valley, the more wild and spectacular the gorge became. The ancient road gripped the side of a tight valley with one of the most vicious rivers I’ve seen in Japan roaring down below. The sheer size of it was not what struck me so much as the volume of water that was pressuring its way past boulders the size of lorries…the kind of washing-machine whitewater that begs the viewer to imagine one’s grizzly fate should they find themselves at it’s mercy.

Trying out the Makomanai forestry road from Kitahiyama to Shimamaki, Hokkaido, Japan

It was not long before we hit our first patch of snow covering the road. Hardly worth writing home about, it was a 50m long stretch of lee-protected north-facing road, which soon gave way to clear road once again. We were at around 230 meters in altitude.

Struggling along the Makomanai forestry road near Kitahiyama, Hokkaido, Japan

Things took a more complicated turn at around 260 meters altitude. We were now primarily pushing the bikes across snow, that for the most part was hard enough to stand on without sinking in, but soft enough that Haidee’s & Rob’s 20-inch folding bike tires would dig in, making pushing very difficult.

We were soon ferrying the folding bikes and luggage separately, effectively covering the same ground twice. Dirk’s 29-inch wheel mountain bike carrying far less camping gear (I was carrying a coffee grinder for goodness sake) was naturally much easier going across the snow.

Struggling along the Makomanai forestry road near Kitahiyama, Hokkaido, Japan

Even despite (or perhaps because of) the excitement of dashing across recent rock-fall sections, we were in fairly good spirits. We had decided that even if we had to camp, we could do so. We had enough food, and because the pass was ‘only’ 500 meters high, if we pushed on we’d surely make most of the way today, camp, and then pop out over the top for the glorious downhill into Shimamaki, triumphant the next day.

Struggling along the Makomanai forestry road near Kitahiyama, Hokkaido, Japan

At just under 300 meters in altitude, however, we finally met our match. Up to this point, we had happily crossed patches of lee-blown slopes of snow, more or less covering the road. We’d achieved this because there was always a thin patch of clear ground on which to walk (see the photo above the last one). Here, however, we were faced with a wall of snow, creating a more or less perfect 45 degree slope to the precipice (dropping straight down to the roaring river in the gorge below). On foot with snowshoes and ice-axe, it would have been a no-brainer. With over-loaded bikes (i.e., my bike) it would have been foolish.

We made the call to turn back. A first for me in all my cycle touring experience. Faced with obviously impossible odds of making it through with any modicum of safety, it was an easy decision to make.

Struggling along the Makomanai forestry road near Kitahiyama, Hokkaido, Japan

It was an easy enough task to console ourselves. This gorge – the Kumamodori Gorge (literally ‘bear return gorge’) – was easily one of the most spectacular I’ve seen in Hokkaido. It pales in comparison to the scale of somewhere like Sounkyo Gorge east of Asahikawa, but the close, compact ferociousness of the river, coupled with the wildness of the road itself makes it rate very highly on my Hokkaido forestry road experiences.

We vowed to return in summer.

Naturally, to return the way we came meant heaving the bikes back across snow. This time, however, at least we were pushing downhill, rather than fighting both gravity and sinky snow.

Struggling along the Makomanai forestry road near Kitahiyama, Hokkaido, Japan

All the while, a light rain had started to fall. We were keen to get back to civilization to dry out and warm up. “All I want to do is to walk into a hot spring in a dressing gown, have a soak, and then go to bed to sleep,” said Dirk, speaking all of our minds.

Struggling along the Makomanai forestry road near Kitahiyama, Hokkaido, Japan

Hitting tarmac was like a dream. Heading downhill, it was effortless. Buttery smooth and fast. The contrast with the last four hours of effort could not have been clearer.

Retreating back down route 345 near Kitahiyama, Hokkaido, Japan

Our first stop once we were out of the valley was the Kitahiyama Onsen – the local hot spring establishment in Setana Town. Upon seeing that a hotel was connected, it did not take much to convince all of us that the 5,800yen each per night (including hot spring entry) was a well-deserved reward for our efforts that day.

Once we’d transferred all our gear inside, the first stop was a long soak in the hot spring baths. And in true Japanese hotspring hotel fashion, our fantasizing on that snowy mountain road came true:  we all sauntered through the hotel to the hotspring area wearing hotel-issued yukata – Japanese-style kimono commonly worn in hot spring resorts…essentially the dressing gowns we had dreamed of.

Route for the day (approx. 65km)

NOTE: Setana and Shimamaki are (apparently) connected via the forestry road, but the top of the pass is around 780m high – not the 500m we had estimated!

Southwest Hokkaido Cycle Tour Day 2 – Assabu to Taisei

This year’s Golden Week in Hokkaido was warm. The warmest it has been for 90 years, apparently. This played out in our cycling today; we might as well have been on our annual summer vacation cycle trip.

The day started with a chilly morning, however. Multiple layers and a good wind-breaker were required equipment to get breakfast on the go. As always, breakfast was a healthy dose of warm porridge with chopped apples, washed down with some hot coffee.

A chilly campsite in Assabu, Hokkaido, Japan

Guiding us on our way were some of Japan’s political election hopefuls. The current opposition leader Okada looked dapper in green (and positively decades younger than he looks in real life), promising straight-ball politics…

Japanese political posters near Assabu, Hokkaido, Japan

Japan’s current ruling party’s leader Mr. Abe looked a little more determinedly wistful, and we couldn’t quite figure out whether it was really his first at the bottom of the poster or that of someone younger and more smooth-skinned…

Japanese political posters near Assabu, Hokkaido, Japan

Although to be honest, I thought Mr. Osaka below should run for prime minister. He comes across to me as the benevolent accountant, ready to honestly and humbly steer the country back into the black. I guess it must be the glasses and graying hair…

Japanese political posters near Assabu, Hokkaido, Japan

Locals seemed oblivious to the political campaigning. An old man, hunched over, shuffled out of his house as we were stopped on the side of the road. He gave us a cursory glance as he bent down to pick up a stone off the ground. His frail body seemed so stiff that he was teetering on the verge of toppling over. He righted himself again and hurled the stone at a stray cat in the vacant plot next to his house. His missile fell well short of its intended target. The old man sneered at the cat, turned and shuffled back to his house. Mr. Osaka with the glasses and graying hair wasn’t given a second thought.

While Japan springtime is well known for its voluptuous cherry blossoms, sakura, Hokkaido in particular has a less known but arguably more dramatic sakura that blooms around springtime: the shiba-zakura, or the ‘lawn’ sakura. A well-tended plot of land with this specimen bursts into a low covering of deep purples and pinks.

'Lawn blossom' (shiba-zakura) near Assabu, Hokkaido, Japan

Paired with the more traditional sakura over head, these make for a springtime delight.

Cherry blossom sakura near Assabu, Hokkaido, Japan

Of course early May is not only about springtime. One of the days that makes up the string of public holidays called Golden Week is Children’s Day. Around this day, many families will fly carp-themed windsocks; the more one ventures into the countryside, the larger and more substantial the carp become. Generally, there will be a large black carp at the top (representing the father of the family), followed by a slightly smaller red or pink carp (representing the mother), followed by different colored carp of decreasing sizes, representing children in the family in order of oldest to youngest.

Karp flags at Otobe, Hokkaido, Japan

As if to supply us with a constant stream of novelties today, we stumbled upon a guy who has been walking around Japan for the last three years. He’s visited most of the prefectures in the country, and pushes all his belongings around on a large industrial cart. He generally walks on the road where it is smoothest, so we wondered what he does in the seemingly ubiquitous shoulderless tunnels dotted around the country. I admired his tenacity.

Japanese guy walking around Japan (near Toppu Cape, Hokkaido, Japan)

We were now on the Japan Sea coast. Further on in Otobe Town, a prominent rise in the road allowed us expansive views north towards the Kariba mountain range, and across a mostly glassy and crystal clear sea.

Toppu Cape, Hokkaido, Japan

Route 229 near Otobe, Hokkaido, Japan

Route 229 near Otobe, Hokkaido, Japan

I wasn’t expecting the sea around this area to be so beautifully clear. It would have been a perfect spot for snorkeling or spear-fishing…so long as the wetsuit was thick enough to ward off the cold.

Due to an early 7:30am start in Assabu, we arrived at our destination, the Taisei Campground, at just after 12 noon. At a convenience store earlier on in the day, we had been told that the hotel on the seaward side of the campground had a cafeteria serving meals, so had held off on buying supplies for lunch. Inexplicably, however, despite (or perhaps because of) it being one of the busiest seasons for tourists, the cafeteria was closed. We had to make do with some pieces of fruit, some rice crackers, a croissant, coffee and a protein shake.

Spring time cycle touring camping at Taisei Campground, Hokkaido, Japan

The campsite was cheap enough though: 220yen for each tent pitched, and 220yen per person for entry to the campsite. The campsite came prepared with dandelions and cherry blossoms in full bloom, and to top things off, our German friend Dirk caught up with us as planned, as a third member for the Golden Week ramble.

Spring time cycle touring camping at Taisei Campground, Hokkaido, Japan

Our favorite campsites are those with hot springs close to the campground. Tonight it was just a short walk down to the hotel for a natural hot spring which included an outdoor bath overlooking the river. However, biting flies were out in force, which made things tricky when trying to relax and take in the scenery, but it was well worth the 400yen entry fee.

Dusk at Taisei Campground, Hokkaido, Japan

Today’s route (approx 50km)