A 492 km loop
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Built for flow, views and useful stops rather than navigation busywork. Out of Ōme and back again: 492 km, roughly 8 h 57 in the saddle. On the way it passes Yugawara, Minamibōsō and Scenic stretch near Sakura. near Itsukaichi is the high point. It tops out at about 800 m.
Fuel at 0 km.
Itsukaichi takes its name from the market that was once held here on days ending in five, a trading point where charcoal, timber and silk from the mountains of western Tokyo met merchants from the plains. It is now part of the city of Akiruno, a quiet town at the mouth of the Akigawa valley, where the suburbs of Tokyo finally give way to forested hills.
The Akigawa is a clear mountain river, popular for barbecues, swimming and fishing in summer, and its valley leads into the mountains of Hinohara and Okutama, the wild western edge of Tokyo Metropolis. The forests here are dense with cedar and cypress, planted after the war, and mixed with native broadleaf trees that turn red and gold in autumn. Waterfalls, gorges and mountain villages make it a world away from the city.
For riders, the area is a classic escape from Tokyo. The Itsukaichi Kaido leads into the valley, and the roads beyond climb into the mountains, with tight curves, steep grades and spectacular views. The Okutama Shūyū Road, a famous mountain toll-free road, links Hinohara and Okutama over the ridges, and it is very popular with motorcyclists, though it has seen restrictions on motorcycles at night after accidents. Traffic can be heavy on weekends, and the roads are narrow, so ride with care.
Itsukaichi has fuel stations, convenience stores and restaurants, making it a good stop before heading into the mountains, where services become scarce. Local restaurants serve soba noodles, a speciality of the area. The Izu Skyline lies far to the south-west, a long ride across the Kanto plain and around Mount Fuji.
Yugawara has been soaking tired bodies for well over a thousand years. The hot springs appear in the Man'yōshū, Japan's oldest poetry anthology, and a local legend says that a tanuki, the mischievous raccoon dog of Japanese folklore, was found bathing in the spring to heal its wounds. The town sits where a short, steep valley opens onto Sagami Bay, at the border of Kanagawa and Shizuoka, between Odawara and Atami.
For riders the main attraction is the Tsubaki Line, the prefectural road that climbs from the town to the Hakone pass. It is a famous motorcycle road, with tight bends, steep gradients and views over the bay as you climb. Surfaces are mostly sound, but the road can be busy on weekends, and police are often present. In foggy or wet weather it can be treacherous, as the upper sections are often wrapped in cloud.
The town itself is a quiet onsen resort, with old inns, public baths and a river running through the valley. Many writers stayed here in the twentieth century, drawn by the hot springs and the mild climate. The plum grove at Makuyama park, above the town, blooms in February and early March, a sea of white and pink with the bay below.
As a base it is hard to beat. The coastal road has fuel and konbini, the inns and small restaurants serve fish landed in the bay, and mandarin orchards climb the terraces behind the houses. Several public baths take day visitors, and twenty minutes in hot mineral water undoes a day of hairpins better than any stretching routine.
At Nojimazaki, the southern tip of the Boso peninsula, a white lighthouse stands on a rocky point above the Pacific. It was one of the first Western-style lighthouses in Japan, built in the late 1860s by a French engineer, and its gallery looks out over a coast of black rocks, surf and wide horizons. The stop sits a little way inland, in the hills between Minamibōsō and Tateyama.
The southern Boso has a mild climate, warmed by the Kuroshio current, and flowers bloom here in the depths of winter. The Boso Flower Line, the coast road from Tateyama to Shirahama, runs past fields of rapeseed, stock and poppies, and in January and February, when the rest of Japan is cold and grey, the fields are a riot of colour.
Shirahama is the home of the ama, women divers who for centuries have gathered abalone, turban shells and seaweed from the seabed without breathing gear. Their tradition is celebrated in a summer festival, when the divers carry torches into the sea at night.
For a swim, the beaches around Shirahama and the southern coast are open in July and August, with lifeguards and flags. The surf can be strong on the Pacific side, so swim only in designated areas.
The riding on the southern Boso is gentle and scenic, with coast roads, hills and little traffic outside the holiday season. The roads inland are narrow and winding, with forests and small villages. Tateyama, twenty minutes up the coast, handles fuel. Down here, eat where the boats tie up: the small harbour restaurants serve whatever came in that morning, often with a view of the divers' huts.
Sakura, in northern Chiba, was a castle town in the Edo period, and some of its old samurai residences survive on a quiet street, with thatched roofs and earthen walls, giving a glimpse of how the warrior class lived. The castle itself is gone, but its grounds now house the National Museum of Japanese History, one of the best museums in the country, covering everything from prehistoric times to the twentieth century.
Just outside the town, beside the lake of Inba-numa, stands a Dutch-style windmill, surrounded by tulip fields that bloom in brilliant colour in April. The windmill commemorates Sakura's historical links with Dutch learning, rangaku, which flourished here in the Edo period. The Kawamura Memorial DIC Museum of Art, set in a park nearby, has a fine collection of modern art, including a room of paintings by Mark Rothko.
The landscape around Sakura is a gentle mix of low hills, rice paddies, woods and lakes, and it makes for pleasant, relaxed riding. The roads around Inba-numa are flat and open, with views over the water, and the routes through the hills are winding and wooded. Traffic can be heavy on the main roads, especially near Narita airport, but the minor roads are quiet.
As a start and finish, Sakura offers a calm, cultural setting, with plenty of places to eat and drink. Fuel is available in town. The lake at sunset, with the windmill silhouetted against the sky, is a lovely way to end the day.
Photo stop near Narita comes up 372 km in.
A tall, slender broadcasting tower, Sky Tower Nishitokyo, marks this part of the Musashino plain from miles away, and if you have been riding the Venus Line in the mountains of Nagano all day, it is the first sign that home is close. Tanashi is the eastern half of Nishitokyo city, a quiet suburb of houses, small shops and parks on the Seibu line, west of central Tokyo, where Shin-Ōme Kaidō and Ōme Kaidō run arrow-straight across the flat land towards the city.
Those straight roads are old. The Musashino plain was a dry upland of grass and woods until the Edo period, when the Tamagawa Jōsui, a canal dug in 1653 to bring drinking water from the Tama River to Edo, made settlement possible. The canal still runs a few kilometres south, shaded by cherry trees and zelkovas; the novelist Dazai Osamu drowned in it in Mitaka in 1948, and its banks are now a walking path, lovely in early April.
Tanashi itself is home to the Tama Rokuto Science Museum, whose planetarium is one of the most advanced in Japan, and the Musashino woodland survives in patches around shrines and in the Koganei park nearby, where an open-air museum of old buildings rescued from the city stands among the trees.
The final stretch home from Nagano usually comes in on the Chūō expressway and then along Shin-Ōme Kaidō or Ōme Kaidō, flat, wide and slow, with lights every few hundred metres and trucks heading for the city. It is easy riding, but fatigue is the enemy here. Pull over at a konbini for something cold before the last few kilometres; they are on every corner, and so are fuel stations and family restaurants open late into the night.
Ōme is a town of old movie billboards. Along its main street, hand-painted signs advertise classic films from the 1950s and 1960s, part of an effort to revive the town as a retro attraction, and the old shops and cafes are full of Showa-era atmosphere.
This is the gateway to the hills, and the road west from Ōme, Route 411, follows the river up to Okutama Lake. The Venus Line, as the ride is called, climbs gently, with bends and tunnels, and the surface is good. The lower part of the valley is busy, with cars and cyclists on sunny weekends, but the upper reaches are quiet and green. The Mitake gorge, with its rocky cliffs and rafting spots, is a short ride away, and the Mitake shrine on its mountain draws walkers. Autumn leaves, from late October, are spectacular.
Hannō, across the prefecture border in Saitama, has a surprising claim. The Moomin Valley Park and Metsä Village, near Lake Miyazawa, are modelled on the stories of Tove Jansson, and the area has Nordic-style buildings and forest walks. The foothills here are covered in cedar and cypress plantations, and tea fields spread across the lower slopes. The Ōme Marathon, a thirty-kilometre race held each February, is one of the oldest in Japan.
Fuel is available in Ōme, a city of nearly a hundred and fifty thousand, with stations on the main road, and it is wise to fill up before heading into the hills. The old town has soba and udon restaurants, and the local sake breweries, like the one at Sawanoi in the Mitake gorge, offer tastings. A small bakery by the station sells good bread.
Spend a few minutes reading the film posters. They are a charming reminder of a Japan that has largely vanished.