Saturday, August 06, 2016

Toyama "race report" (or Lost Horizons 2)


So we travel to northern coast of Japan for the Toyama Triathlon last weekend.  Sunday’s race sees us swim in 29C. degree water, cycle up a mountain in sweltering 35C degree heat and run up and down the slopes of a ski resort in pouring rain.  


And that was the easy part of the weekend. 




We decide, "hey why not ride part of way back to Tokyo?", and on Monday morning we head out on a 145-kilometer journey over the spine of Japan’s central mountain range.  

We ride through beautiful mountain scenery, gradually ascending over 1,000 meters in the hot weather to the 100k mark of the ride (note that this is still the relatively easy part).  

It is at this point that we begin to climb the steep mountain pass and at this point that rain begins to fall.  At first the rain is a pleasant cooling drizzle, but as we crest the high mountain summit it turns into an absolute deluge (we learn later that trains and highways and factories are shut down throughout the area because of the massive amount of rainfall).  

I am really not adept at descending in any conditions.  Now I find myself riding in what has essentially become a fast-moving stream - more than an inch of water pouring across the road in places.  As I zig-zag down the brutally steep, mountain switchbacks, my arms begin to ache with the constant braking.  

And then I started getting cold.  Really, really cold to point that I am shaking uncontrollably as I struggle to steer my bike.  I am growing a bit concerned about simply surviving, and hope that maybe by some incredible luck a car will happen to go past that I could flag down.  But there are no other signs of life on the secluded, lonely mountain road.  


Suddenly, in the darkest deepest forest, with rain bucketing down, we round yet another sharp corner and if by magic, a luxurious hot-springs resort materializes on the hill-side in front of us.  


Are we seeing a mirage?  "Perhaps this is a dream?" we ask ourselves as we slam on our brakes and then stagger up steep stairs to the magnificent building looming above us, hoping the guardians of this ethereal mountain retreat will take pity on us and allow us to warm up.   

The resort is otherworldly luxury and it all feels like the Shangri-La of Lost Horizons, especially as the resort's "High Lama" greets us warmly, ushers us into the spacious entrance hall and escorts us across the opulent, high-ceiling lobby to the cliffside, hot-springs baths   — all the while minions faithfully follow along behind us with towels mopping up the trail of puddles we leave behind.    

We soak in steaming hot outdoor baths, gazing out over a stunning view of high mountain ranges that disappear in the distant horizon  

Later we roam the tranquil grounds of the retreat and memories of the dark mountain ride fades away in transcendent calm of the mountain sanctuary.  We start to lose track of time (perhaps time passes differently in this parallel mountain realm?), until Mark recalls vaguely that he has a job and a family back in the other world below. We reluctantly bid farewell to the “High Lama” and the postulants seeking enlightenment at our remote alpine oasis.   


Maybe like the characters in Lost Horizons we should have chosen to just stay and live out our days in the idyllic peace  and comfort of our isolated Shangri-La onsen resort, far removed from the danger and turmoil of the outside world.  


Because more danger and adventure lay in our paths -- the downhill stretch of highway into Matsumoto is punctuated by long, narrow tunnels.  We need to ride quickly to reach our destination before dark, and we race down the busy, wet highway.  Soon we find ourselves riding through seemingly endless tunnels with buses and huge trucks screaming down the mountainside behind us, the roar of their engines echoing throughout the tunnel and the vibration rattling off the walls and road.  We cycle at breakneck speed  to stay ahead of the buses bearing down on us, knowing that even the slightest mistake would instantly result in a grisly, violent death.  This goes on for miles until the highway emerges into the rice fields surrounding the town of Matsumoto and we coast to our destination. 



Oh, yeah... the triathlon event itself....it was a bit disappointing again...  I seem to have totally overheated in my wetsuit, and then I lamely struggled through the ride and run.  I think I was like 33rd place out of 200...