日本夏2025年

June 10, 2025

日本夏2025年 - Day 16

June 12, 2025

Lake Toya to Nishikioka - 112 Km

Start 5:52 AM

Finish 5:02 PM

Total Duration 11:10

Moving Time 7:11

Stopped Time 3:50

Ascent 1,443 m

Descent 1,529 m

Tour Total 1,774 Km

Details at: https://ridewithgps.com/trips/294766153

I slept well last night at Ukimido Park, right on the shore of Lake Toya. Before bed, I watched fireworks across the lake in Toyako Onsen—silent blooms of color lighting up the water.

By 4 AM, the sky began to lighten and the birds started up. A few early risers passed through the park, and that was my cue to get moving.

I put on a fresh shirt this morning—still holding the tour at Level 0 cleanliness. At 6 AM, while using the park bathroom, I was “caught” by a woman already in there cleaning. Early birds everywhere.

The park had some striking sculptures: a large abstract steel structure and a smooth, carved stone piece. I rolled out along the quiet lakeside road, nearly empty of cars, a peaceful start.

Eventually, I merged onto a larger highway, sharing it with cars and trucks. I passed a runner, then a cyclist heading the opposite way.

I rode through Toyako Onsen—a resort town with sprawling hotels, manicured parks, spas, and English signage everywhere. It felt touristy but polished. I stopped at a Seicomart for a Craft Boss latte and an old-fashioned chocolate donut—simple joy.

Back on the LOJ route, I realized I’d ridden a bit too far around the lake and missed my exit. After a day of making up my own route

yesterday, I’d gotten lazy about checking the GPS. A tunnel saved me from having to backtrack uphill.

I passed a massive cherry orchard where a tractor was spraying the trees—fine mist drifting through the rows. From there, I took Route 453, heading toward the Pacific. After crossing the Osaru River on Route 2, I aimed for Noboribetsu.

The clouds hung low all day, and some valleys were fogged in. I couldn’t see the tips of the surrounding peaks.

Hokkaido roads often have sandbags stored in metal boxes along curves—presumably for traction during icy months. A reminder that this gentle green place gets severe in winter.

I was soon climbing in earnest and pulled over to shed my jacket. I passed seasonal road-closure gates and felt the temperature drop with elevation. A long bridge carried me across a steep slope in mid-climb, but the fog shrouded the view.

Large yellow-brown snails were slowly crossing the road. I felt like one of them, crawling uphill in my lowest gear.

The fog was thick at a designated vista point, so I rolled past without stopping. I entered Shikotsutoya National Park, cold air mixing with warm sweat. At the summit, I knew I’d need the jacket again for the descent.

At 9:30 AM, I reached Orofure Pass—935 m—nestled between Mount Orofure and Mount Raiba. I went through the long Orofure Tunnel, then a second short one. On the far side, the fog lifted and blue sky broke through.

The sun returned, shadows appeared, and I began a fast descent. The air warmed as I dropped. A final climb and twisty descent brought me into Noboribetsu Onsen—thick with the smell of sulfur.

I stopped at Yumoto Sagiriyu, a public bath in town. All the high-end onsens were attached to hotels. This one had multiple soaking pools; the hottest was fed from a dragon’s mouth carved in stone.

Post-soak and starving, I went to Nobojin and ordered barbecue Hokkaido Shiraoi beef with shiitakes and a cold Sapporo. I grilled my own slivers of meat at the table—but left still a little hungry.

After lunch, I bumped into the cyclist I'd ridden the ferry with. He was tracing the coastline via Route 5. He mentioned the heavy construction for the new Shinkansen. I showed him a photo of the guy walking Japan’s perimeter—and it turned out they were friends.

Leaving town, I visited Jigoku-dani (Hell Valley)—the geothermal source of Noboribetsu’s onsens. Steam billowed from vents, just like in Beppu last summer.

I climbed again, following the opposite side of the Kusuri Sun Betsu River. More steaming earth. Eventually, I reached Lake Kuttara, a near-perfect circle and known for having the clearest water in Japan.

After riding halfway around the caldera lake, I climbed back up to the rim. The Pacific appeared in the distance, then came a steep descent on a winding narrow road into Noboribetsu on the coast.

All day I’d been seeing massive red and blue ogre statues—horned, fanged, and wielding giant spiked clubs. Just outside Noboribetsu, I passed the largest one yet—easily 100 feet tall. They reminded me of similar figures from Takachiho, Kyushu.

Back at sea level in another tsunami inundation zone, I turned onto four-lane Highway 36. I passed NIXE Fantasy Park, an amusement park that seemed largely dormant. The road was lined with seafood shops and closed-up tourist traps, the rail line running alongside.

In Shiraoi, I stopped at Cowbell for more grilled meat. It was excellent, but they only let me have two beers—because I was cycling.

North of town, the road widened again. I veered inland before Tomakomai, following the LOJ route. I passed heavy coastal industry and a cattle ranch before making a final stop at 7-Eleven for provisions.

Tonight I’m camping at Nishitappu Park. Kids were playing when I arrived, but they cleared out as night fell. As dusk settled in, a group of deer sprinted across the field in front of me.

Tomorrow, Sapporo.