How to Tour Japan By Bicycle: Where to Do It

"Nope, I can't find this breathtaking scenery anywhere on Google Maps.  Weird."

Japanese people will often point out to foreigners that Japan is a very small country.  Miniscule.  Itsy-bitsy, even.  In a word: wee.  For the three years we lived in Osaka, we had a rather difficult time understanding this apparent self-consciousness.  I mean, Japan is roughly the size of England or California (which is not known as "The Tiny State").  Also, while you're on a bike, distances become much, much more relative; a country that you can drive across in a day will still require a good month or five to cycle across.

Yes, of course you can bike across the entire length of Japan, or along its circumference.  We've met several people who've done just that.  The funny thing, though, is that we've met just as many people who've biked across the U.S..  I guess if you have enough crazy to pack up your tent and pedal across a country, that crazy doesn't care too much about numbers of miles.

To get down to brass tacks: Japan is some islands with lots of mountains.  If climbing mountains happens to be your bag, then boy-oh-(non-gender-specific)-boy, will you be pleased as punch with Japan.  It's just mountains all day long.

Now, as dedicated slackers who just happen to be taking a long sabbatical from slacking, we are pretty mountain-averse.  Little-known fact: violas become exponentially heavier with each hundred meters of altitude.  So if you're looking for information about which mountains have particularly good trails for mountain biking, I recommend you consult the experts.

As it happens, even if you take the presumably least mountainy route in Japan (following the coastline), you'll still end up crossing a fair number of mountains.  So, y'know.  Hooray.

Planning a Route:

We started our touring days in Japan by purchasing two large-scale, good-quality road maps from a local bookstore, then studiously packing them away in our panniers and never opening them again.  They weren't a complete waste of money, of course; now we have them tacked up on the walls of our apartment, a wonderful reminder of all the places we've been and all the planning we didn't do.

These, too, make for some great wall decorations.

This isn't to say that paper maps are worthless for cycle tourists.  However, the maps that we actually ended up using were the free maps given away at the 道の駅 (michi no eki or "road station") that dot the scenic highways of Japan.  These maps cover a relatively small area, but they contain vital information that more professional (expensive) maps lack, including the locations of campgrounds, parks, historic points of interest, and most importantly, other 道の駅, where you can find some extremely necessary soft-serve ice cream.

Of course, being tech-savvy 21st-century cycle tourists, you will most likely do your research on the internet beforehand, right?  We sure did.  And we found a bunch of self-congratulatory blogs by people who'd biked across Japan and just couldn't wait to brag about it to the whole dang world (pssh, losers, amirite?).  So if you're interested in retracing someone else's tire tracks, you can go from Nagoya to Kagoshima and back, from Fukuoka to Hokkaido, from Fukuoka to Tokyo, or from Osaka to Shimonoseki.  If you're more into planning your own route, though, whether out of practicality or sheer pig-headedness, information on the practicality of individual roads is pretty scant (incidentally, we chose our route out of the former, having the non-biking-related goals of visiting a farm in Shimane and making it to a port before our visas expired).

Naturally, if you're tech-savvy enough to scope out some information online, you'll probably have a bike computer, too, right?  We sure do!  They even play music!  And Angry Birds!  We call them "iPods," or to be more specific, "iPod Touches" (that can't be right..."iPods Touch," maybe?).  As we've documented previously, our method of navigation is to use Google Maps' directions feature, telling it to avoid tolls or highways, then writing down that route and following it as best as possible.  WiFi has not yet penetrated the far reaches of rural Japan (hell, it's barely made it to Osaka), but the iPod's Google Maps app can (usually) hold a fair amount of cached data for several days, making it an ideal traveling companion.  Stopping at conbinis for a coffee, we would browse the next few days' route on our iPods, allowing us to check this map again from the road if need be.  This gave us a good amount of freedom for each day's riding, giving us several options for camping depending on how we were feeling.

The one thing you do have to know about using Google Maps to navigate is that you are smarter than Google Maps.  There will be times where the info that Google gives you about your route is directly contradicted by evidence right in front of you, such as road signs.  Occasionally Google will steer you towards "bypasses," as they're called on the road signs.  Do not, under any circumstances, enter a bypass.  There are usually some signs warning cyclists away from these elevated, shoulderless death traps, so keep an eye out for those.  Whenever there is a bypass, usually on approaching a town or small city, that means you're in for some mountain-climbing, city biking, or both.  It also means that you'll be traveling more kilometers than Google predicts, sometimes having to go five or ten km out of your way to avoid the bypass.

Other than bypasses, Japan has many names for its various roads, none of which make any sense.  You'll typically be rolling on the 山登路 or Mountain-Climbing Road, some of which have no mountains at all.  Sometimes, when heading towards (for instance) Yonago, you'll want to be on the 山登路 and avoid the Yonago Highway.  Other times, there will be two or three highways, all or none of which might be called 山登路.  Having proved ourselves thoroughly unable to determine the presence or absence of mountains on a given road, the only real advice I have for these instances is to guess and to be extremely lucky.  Just remember to avoid bypasses and expressways and you'll get where you're going, if not in the time you have planned.

If you do happen to be looking for some suggested routes, here's a couple we can speak to:

Shikoku and the Shimanami Kaido:

A good beginner's route: free camping is both legal and easily accessible, and there are plenty of clearly-marked cycle paths.  Incredible views, no sprawling metropoles, few trucks, and friendly locals.  What's not to love?  Besides the mountains, of course.

View Larger Map

If you were to start in Onomichi, near Hiroshima, then you could start biking on the Shimanami Kaido to get warmed up, then continue to a loop around Shikoku, ending up in Imabari, where there are plenty of ferries to take you anywhere else in Japan.  Our trip in Shikoku started here, and this was the best thing we encountered on the way.

Distance: about 800 kilometers.

Time: Man, I dunno.  You're probably way faster than us, so...two weeks?  If you want to really enjoy it and take your time, I'd recommend a month.  That gives plenty of rest days and bad weather days, plus you can afford to take some time to stop for temples and onsen (highly recommended).

Along the Sea of Japan:

Not quite as cycle-friendly, this route took us through Japan's least-populated prefectures, meaning we didn't always have several conbinis to choose from for a rest stop.  Still, the landscape is rural and scenic, and there's less of a chance of being eaten by inoshishi than most other parts of Japan.  Plus, the southern end of Honshu is wall-to-wall cities, which means a lot more trucks and stops for traffic.

View Larger Map

Distance: 450 kilometers.

Time: Eh, we did it in 15 days, but then again, we be slow.  You could probably do it in half that time, especially if you don't have a ton of stuff.

Other Destinations:

Beats me.  I've heard good stuff about Hokkaido!