Japan in 24 Days
or
How I Got One Hell of a Sore Butt

This was the day. The start of my solo motorcycle tour of Japan. Like many people before me who had lived and worked in Japan, I was trying to fit in a "big trip" before leaving. After living and working in Tokyo for five years, I had quit my job and was preparing to return to the U.S. It was pretty much now or never. I had been considering this trip for only a few years. In fact, I had been riding a motorcycle for only three years. I had only become interested in two-wheeled transportation in order to become more mobile and to avoid commuting on the packed trains. After taking a number of day trips with my motorcycle-riding friends and talking with people like Katrina, a former coworker who had herself taken a motorcycle trip around Japan before leaving the country, I was ready to go.

My peppy 250cc Honda Spada was loaded up with Katrina's old saddle bags and my tank bag. The saddle bags were packed with gear -- clothes, tent, stove, rain gear, some food and water -- and the tank bag contained my maps and guidebooks. With a kiss and a wave I set off. The time was 10:30, later than I had hoped. I made my way through Tokyo heading north, filling up with gas at Oji and then having lunch at McDonalds in Kawaguchi before hopping on the Tohoku expressway. Since I had already been to most of the prefectures around Tokyo (Chiba, Saitama, Gunma and Tochigi), I figured I would try to put Tokyo behind me and made a beeline for Sendai.

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