2025 MOUNTAIN DAY_ Day 1

[Username-ish]

Day 1 of the 2025 Mountain Day

As expected, we had some attrition due to the weather. Kudos to Thomas and Tony for letting everyone know in advance that they wouldn't be coming. Three of us went straight to the second meet point at Susano on Friday evening, where we got our first taste of mountain sky water just after arriving about 1am. Sitting outside the meetup 7/11 was not going to work out, so we quickly barreled up the road to a JA complex. They are pretty user-friendly, so we took a nap and sheltered under their frontage, where we waited for Arun to arrive—which was about 5:30.
Other entrants, were no longer a consideration from that point on. We had a good group for the conditions. However, Devin was ill-prepared for rain—which was okay, as that's how lessons are learned. Lesson 1 😉: he went back down and picked up a conbini poncho. Lesson 2 😉: another gear lesson for him (lol). Later, he moved on to an actual rain suit—😉. He's a positive guy, so no harm, no foul!
We hit the road a full hour earlier than planned from the second meet spot, which later turned out to be a time card we needed. We planned to reverse the route from the second day to the first day to Iida, as the north route looked less rained out. Around Fujimi, at the branch north or south of Fuji, we were separated from Mike and Devin. After a quick look for them, we kept going. About 9 km further, it became clear I had misnamed my reversed routes, and we were actually doing the original Day 1 southern route, which we knew to be much more weather- and road-challenged. But as we only saw occasional big dumps of rain, we thought, "WTH," and took it, considering that the way the weather was going doing it the next day for the return could be even worse. The predictions were pretty accurate. Even though we had quite a few big downpours, they usually lasted only 10–15 minutes; then it was just drizzle, light rain, or overcast. Probably 60% of the day was just overcast. The approach to the foothills was spectacular, and I knew, regardless of the weather, this was going to be stunning—very dramatic low cloud and mist hovering between jagged ridges and opposing narrow, deep valleys. These are areas that few riders actually go into. The ones you do meet in these deeper areas are often alone or in pairs. Their bikes and gear radiate experience, and they are usually modest—but you already know their sense of adventure, because they are there.

I messaged Mike and told him we'd see him at Iida. Mike's never someone you have to worry about riding with, and Devin was under his guidance as a newbie to these events, so all good. When I rang off, other than already looking forward to seeing them at the end and trading the day's ride over a beer, I didn't need to give them another thought, knowing they'd also be having a good time rain or no.

As predicted, rain came in short, hard bursts in the southern route area for about 300 km or so, but this was mostly just rain and drizzle the hard stuff was short and in frequent, anyway we both had good gear. Pointedly for the morning, a little extra diligence was needed—especially watching for a few random rocks on the narrower tracks—we managed fine. Sneaky buggers in there though: not big enough to be obvious but small and brown enough to hide in leaf clusters, ready to make your front skip out, usually on a turn during a climb or descent. The only hindrance from the rain was the slower pace, but in the end, we were two and not ten riders, I said to myself in my helmet more than a few times, because I already knew from past rides a few of the no-shows had been on that they wouldn't have been safe in there at that moment. At least two of them, I had seen before, didn't have gear anywhere near capable of handling that weather. Sorry harsh, but snowboard jackets and high-top sneakers are literally an end to any happiness in those conditions, you lose comfort, which then effects concentration, resulting in unsafe riding... which becomes the group burden. But as with riders you know are competent, I didn't have to worry about Arun, his gear, or our combined safety.
Overall, even with the rain, we certainly got what we deserved for taking the southern route: all-day fantastic views, mountain nutrition including fresh rain oxygen out the wazoo, more spectacular mountain swing bridges than I could count, and—every other turn—views framed by foliage gaps or breaks in the tree line, looking across lush valleys or down into rugged, gushing mountain rivers.

The pace was good, with neither of us needing to shelter that rhythm had the morning go pretty quick before our first recharge at 11:30, we took two good breaks. That first, was at about 30% of the distance in, which was at Kawarehon, where I had a very mild-tasting curry and rice—defiantly expensive at 1,600 yen, but understandable given the remote location and reduced chance of good income most of the year. Then it was into the ups and downs, twists and turns of Route 473 and the Sugi River Trail. This was the challenge of the day: hard rain for about 50% of the time turned the narrow climb and descent into an often 25–50 mm deep road river, you really could not see what was under that stream you were riding in, more tha a few times the front wheel skipped hard and foot down fast was needed. As I said, I was glad to be with Arun at that point, didn't have to think too much about anything but my own path.
When we squeezed out the final descent, we took our last big rain hit, which came just after a stop at our second recharge. Google had suggested the Tenryu River View Dog Café (lol—six Labradors will give you a nice hello and a lot of licking!). Here we had a choice: take Route 389 north, or take the alternate route Craig had already given us, since it was uncertain during planning whether the top section would be open. The closure point was about 15–18 km up from there, but given we were already two hours behind schedule and that the likely conditions at higher altitude would be the same—or worse—than on the already challenging 473, we could have spent easily 3–4 hours going up and back. So, after a logical pow-wow, we took the alternate route, planning to head north and cut over to the highland and Shimoguri via Route 294. But as we got in there, signs started to indicate a red closure at the top—perhaps the day's rain had caused a landslide, though it wasn't specific. Another possible turnaround. With the 151 right there, and only a slight backtrack needed, plus the growing desire for speed after so many hours of close wet tracks, we opted for the 151. Don't get me wrong—I enjoyed every part of that. I've always been a big fan of what can hurt me, kill me, or grill me; it keeps me feeling alive. The buzz was real.
But... here we were now: clear weather, dry roads, no cars left to pass, and the knowledge that the gushing descent into Iida Valley was going to be a real cobweb cleaner. I persuaded Arun to take my alternative. He's pretty much a "hell yeah!" kind of guy, so it didn't take much convincing.

Closing out the final hours, we were absolutely blessed with heavenly long sweepers, dry conditions, and no mountain day weekend car traffic—just long, fast, sweeping twisties without even a K-truck hindrance.
That led to a perfect end of the day's ride at the Silk Hotel Iida, which deserves a mention because it was unanimously agreed it has the best shower on this planet—hot and powerful enough to strip the paint off a 1952 Plymouth Savoy, period.

Bonus find: just 50 meters out the door and to the left, a friendly izakaya where the mama-san was a giggle, the local patrons were very friendly, and the food was good. All ate and drank well enough—for 18,000 yen combined.

[PAX]

Cool RR! Sounds like you had a great ride! Thanks for sharing!

we were absolutely blessed with heavenly long sweepers, dry conditions, and no mountain day weekend car traffic—just long, fast, sweeping twisties without even a K-truck hindrance.

Those are the best!