Perfectly in synch, we rip along the serpentine coast road, sound waves bouncing off the earthen walls, white-capped waves crashing into rocky outcroppings as the sun breaks cover over the ocean.
This may sound like an epic pilgrimage up Pacific Coast Highway en route to Laguna Seca for the USGP, but something's awry-the sun doesn't rise over the ocean off the California coast, it sets there.
This strafing mission actually took place in Japan, during an Edelweiss Bike Travel Tour. A new country on the Austrian company's slate, this so-called "scouting tour" was the trip's final dress rehearsal.
Our route criss-crossed the main island of Honshu, which is roughly 800 miles long with 3400 miles of coastline. That's more than four times the length of PCH.
Plenty of Japanese motorcycles have passed through my garage, but I never dreamed of actually riding in Japan. This far-off land just wasn't on the radar until a call came down from Motorcyclist headquarters. "Um, let me get back to you," I blubbered, failing to mention that this assignment would leave me MIA for my girlfriend's birthday and the housewarming party for which I'd just mailed 50 invitations.
Without trepidation, the homecoming soire was rescheduled, Sabine's birthday party was canceled and she got a plane ticket to Japan instead.
Entanglements untangled, we were up, up and away on a 14-hour flight from New York to Tokyo. En route we crossed the International Date Line, literally jetting into tomorrow, and landed in another world, 10 time zones from home.
At the hands of a white-gloved driver in a whisper-quiet, natural-gas-burning shuttle, we arrived at the first night's swank digs, the Hotel Ibis. Following the Edelweiss itinerary, we flew in one day early to reset our body clocks and enjoy a rest day in this ultra-modern city.
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Covering 146,000 square miles, Japan is a little smaller than California and one and a hal
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As per the welcome packet given to us at check-in, we arrived promptly at 7:01 p.m. for our first group get-together. Much to our surprise, we walked in on a veritable Oktoberfest. Our very international party included 13 German-speaking folks, four Americans and one Dutch woman from Kenya who lives in New York: Sabine. We're told that future Japan tours will be all-American affairs.
The balance of the U.S.-based contingent was quite diverse. Terry is a retired RN from Vancouver, Washington, who rides a Honda CBR1100XX Blackbird, practices Taekwondo, trains dressage horses and plays Nintendo. She told us she quit nursing to join a role-playing group. We liked how that sounded, but were afraid to ask what it meant. Also joining us were Randy, a jovial Japanese-American building inspector from Southern California and Bob Henig, the witty owner of Bob's BMW in Maryland.
Most of our new European friends spoke better English than we did German, and for the rest we had Edelweiss head honcho Werner Wachter and tour guide Claus Lazik to translate. Trained as a geographer and geologist, Claus has worked with Edelweiss for nine years, in Europe, Dubai, South Africa and China. Our local guide was Jun Yamada, a freelance motorcycle journalist and riding instructor.
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Japan is a beautiful country filled with 127 million friendly people. Best of all, it's a
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Irony of ironies, instead of saddling up on Japanese bikes, we picked up an array of German BMWs at the importer's office. There, Sabine and I were united with a silver K1200R Sport.
High-tailing it out of Tokyo via the Tateyama Expressway, we were soon transported to the countryside, which Sabine said reminded her of northern Kenya. Through lush greenery and bamboo forests, the first lunch spot was at the summit of a mountain range connecting Mt. Otsukayama and Mt. Motokiyosumiyama. Try saying that 10 times fast.
Over the next eight days we discovered many stunning natural sights, but what most fascinated me was the multi-hued tapestry of Japanese life. Along the roads we experienced the visceral sights, sounds and smells of this proud, resourceful nation.