日本夏2025年

June 16, 2025

日本夏2025年 - Day 10

June 6, 2025

Sakuramatsu Park (Appikogen, Iwate) to Aomori - 159 Km

Start 7:56 AM

Finish 9:32 PM

Total Duration 13:35

Moving Time 9:54

Stopped Time 3:41

Ascent 2,231 m

Descent 2,617

Tour Total 1,113 Km

Details at: https://ridewithgps.com/trips/292128638

I slept well next to the shrine, nestled beside the gurgling Fudō-no-Taki Waterfall. It was pitch black when I went to bed, and thanks to the dense tree cover, the early morning light didn’t wake me as abruptly as it had the past few days. I stirred around 5 a.m. but managed to fall back asleep until my 7 o'clock alarm. Packing was quick and quiet, just in case anyone came by. As usual, while I was packing, I noticed a lone figure on the trail leading to the falls.

Before visiting the falls, I enjoyed the platinum black Georgia coffee the kind truck driver had given me yesterday. The shrine where I’d camped wasn’t a full building but a striking façade built into the base of a towering cliff. Early in the morning, a sudden noise had startled me—it was likely a falling branch or a loose rock tumbling down the cliff face.

The waterfall itself was magnificent—just steps from where I’d slept. A graceful red arched bridge offered a peaceful vantage point over the cascade. I had it all to myself.

As I made my way back to the route, I passed towering stacks of cut lumber. All the bridge crossings were painted red and adorned with bronze post caps, giving the area a sense of traditional elegance.

I stopped at a Lawson’s to wash up and grabbed a Craft Boss latte and a buttery kouign-amann. Following an Apple Maps route toward Kazuno, I began a long, hot climb along a narrow, gravelly road that paralleled the expressway.

The sky was hazy, and the sun struggled to break through. I unzipped my gilet as the heat built. The road wound through logged hillsides and eventually led me to an active logging site. The gradients were steep, and while I climbed and descended sharp hills, the adjacent freeway sliced through the mountains with tunnels and bridges. People were tending their rice paddies, and stacks of firewood lined the roadside.

Eventually, I joined National Route 282, which paralleled the expressway and followed a river downstream. Crossing into Akita Prefecture, the route took me through a quiet town and onto a narrow ribbon of tarmac threading between rice fields—a scenic bike path beside the river where I could finally pick up some speed.

In Kazuno (population: 28,329), I rejoined the LOJ route, relieved to no longer be draining my phone battery for navigation. The wide valley and the Yoneshiro River guided me forward. I stopped at Damaya Ramen and snagged a counter seat near an outlet, where I recharged my phone and uploaded yesterday’s journal while I ate.

On my way out of town, I stopped at Kemanai Nanataki Onsen for a bath and a shave. They didn’t offer rental towels or toiletries, but I managed. The outdoor bath out back was especially rejuvenating.

Back on the route, I followed another river upstream into a headwind. I stopped to shed my gilet—first time on this trip I’d ridden in just a shirt. I passed giant roadside plants with leaves the size of my wheels.

The road was rural and peaceful, with virtually no motor traffic. I pedaled through tall cedar groves and past cultivated fields and vineyards. The temperature reached 26°C, and I stopped at a roadside station for a refreshing ice cream.

The climb resumed through dense forest. Underneath the towering trees, thick ferns covered the ground. Finally, the descent began, and after a sweeping turn, Lake Towada appeared—stunning, with snowcapped Mount Ohanabe in the distance. I coasted down toward the water, through a tunnel, and stopped lakeside at Marine Blue for a slice of delicious apple pie. The woman there told me tomorrow's forecast was “sunny with clouds”—same as today.

Despite the number of hostels and hotels in the area, it felt empty. It was 4:30 PM, and I decided to keep moving. A fully loaded Asian touring cyclist passed me going the other direction but didn’t stop.

I climbed to another section of the lake and entered a 1,200-meter tunnel with a wide sidewalk for safe riding. I passed two day cyclists coming the other way. Exiting, I turned off toward the Oirase Keiryū gorge, where the road wove back and forth across a roaring stream. Waterfalls tumbled both from the main channel and from its tributaries.

At 5:49 PM, I crossed a bridge and turned left onto Route 103, headed toward Aomori. The nearest convenience store was 9 km in the wrong direction, ans foolishly, I pushed on. I didn’t know where I’d be sleeping tonight, and there were no signs of food or shelter ahead. I followed the Tsuta River upstream.

By 6:30 PM, I passed Tsuta Spa. Then the switchbacks began. I reached a tunnel—surely the summit, I thought—but I was wrong. The climb continued, the stream still raging beside me. The black flies and gnats were relentless, and at one point I noticed blood from a bite on my thigh. Higher up, snow began to appear at the roadside. It was cold, dark, and windy—and I was completely alone.

At 7:51 PM, I finally crested Kasamatsu Pass at Mount Hakkōda, 1,040 meters high. I had made a tactical mistake—this climb should’ve waited for tomorrow. Surrounded by snowfields and wind, I layered up with my gilet and jacket for the long descent.

Below, I could see Aomori in the distance. The descent passed luxury hotels and spas. The air was thick with sulfur. I stopped at one onsen to inquire about a room—sold out.

I continued across the Kayano Plateau, and finally hit traffic lights and found a Family Mart, where I stocked up on provisions. I rolled into Nogi Central Park and found a quiet place to set up my tent, plus a comfortable bench where I could sit and edit today’s report.