日本夏2025年 - Day 22 • Rishiri Island Loop
June 20, 2025
Rishiri Island Loop - 74 Km
Start 6:08AM
Finish 7:37 PM
Total Duration 13:29
Moving Time 4:36
Stopped Time 8:53
Ascent 713 m
Descent 701 m
Tour Total 2,526 Km
Details at: https://ridewithgps.com/trips/298202896
I slept well at Wakkanai Forest Park Campground, despite the mosquitoes that swarmed as I sat at the picnic table editing yesterday’s report.
I woke with the early morning sun, rolled over, and stole another precious hour of rest. When I finally emerged, the tent was soaked with condensation, and I packed it away wet before riding down the steep hill into town.
At the port, Cyrillic signs announced ferries to Корсаков, Russia — a reminder of how close I was to another world. I bought a ticket to Rishiri Island, then made a quick dash to Seico Mart for a Craft Boss latte and a chocolate Danish.
The ferry departed at 7:15 AM and arrived by 9, the island wrapped in mist. By 9:15 the fog lifted to reveal the imposing silhouette of 1,721‑meter Mount Rishiri, a sharp volcanic cone rising from the center of this nearly circular island, streaked with snow.
Rishiri is part of Rishiri‑Rebun‑Sarobetsu National Park. I chose a counterclockwise route around its 60‑kilometer perimeter to keep the mountain in view. The island has a population of 5,102.
At a rest area, I stopped to remove my jacket and gilet, apply sunblock, and dry out my tent and Therm‑a‑Rest. The sun was blazing, and offshore fishing boats worked the waters. The wind was in my face, so I cued up an episode of the Duane Train, enjoying its company as I pedaled. The coastal highway alternated between bike routes and quiet local roads, and I kept an eye on the GPS circle I was tracing.
In one small town, I spotted a trailhead sign for the 11‑hour climb to the mountain’s summit. By late morning the mist had returned, swallowing the peak. Sea urchins littered the road. I stopped to chat with a man from Nagano, painting the landscape from the back of his truck where a mattress was laid out.
I tried to stick to the outermost route, sometimes riding the main road, sometimes winding down quiet side streets. At one shrine adorned with colorful banners, I noticed a group of men inside. Curious, I parked my bike and walked up the steps. They waved me in, and I stepped out of my sandals to join them on the tatami mats, where beer flowed, cigarettes burned, and dried meat was passed around. I shared my story as best I could, though I understood very little of theirs. Despite the “no smoking” signs, the room was smoky, and boxes of beer and sake were stacked high — clearly some sort of festival was underway.
Around 11 AM the mist lifted, and the mountain emerged once more. In town, a local festival was in full swing, complete with carnival‑like concessions. I stopped for a corndog, still hungry, and later came upon a food‑truck lot on the edge of town. One vendor was from Sapporo, another from Niseko. I treated myself to a cheeseburger, fries, and a lemon soda.
By 12:30 PM I was halfway around the island, and the wind was now at my back. Across the water, Hokkaido was framed by a wall of pale mist. At a large marsh, tour buses idled and ice cream vendors called out, but I kept going. By three‑quarters of the way, the wind picked up sharply and the air turned cold.
Completing the loop, I arrived back at the ferry terminal, only to find the ticket counter closed. I made my way to Rishirifuji Hot Spring for a shave, a wash, and a long soak. At 4:40 PM, I boarded the ferry back to Wakkanai, packed with Japanese tourists.
Once ashore, I treated myself to an assorted donburi at Urokotei — seafood of a quality found nowhere else on earth. Afterward, I stopped at Seico Mart for supplies, then climbed the hill back to camp.
Tomorrow I’ll be boarding the train to Sapporo. The northernmost chapter of this journey has come to an end.
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