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When thou didst not, savage, know thine own meaning,
But wouldst gabble like a thing most brutish,
I endowed thy purposes with words that made them known.
Short Version: While technically not riding at the time, I was on a ride circumnavigating Yakushima Island when I was flooded out of my tent and forced to setup camp for 16 hours in an accessible toilet in Japan.
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Longer Read: Yakushima, an island off the southern tip of Kyushu in Japan is home to the oldest cedar (sugi) trees on the planet and it boasts the highest annual rainfall in Japan, between 4 and 10 meters per year. That's right, meters!
In the Spring of 2021 I went back to Yakushima for a second ride around the island. For several weeks before the trip I began to watch the weather. According the the Japanese weather reports, which are the most reliable I've ever used, a big rain was coming during my second night there.
So, I began to plan for this. After I get off the ferry and visit Shiratani Gorge where some of the oldest cedars on the island reside on steep slopes, I would head for Anbo. From my last visit, I remembered a beautiful public park high above the town. Camping in public parks is permitted- well, not frowned upon- and in Japan such parks are replete with amenities like 'The World's Cleanest Public Restrooms'. This would be where I'd weather the predicted 12-15cm of rain.
Fast forward several weeks and I'm riding into the park I remembered. What made it most memorable is a world-class 400m running track. On a remote island! In a town of about 8000 people! I find a spot on the lawn among the blossoming cherry trees(sakura), and there's a small gazebo. My tent is on the lawn and ready for rain, but if things go sideways I'll duck into the gazebo.
Right on time, a light rain begins while I cook dinner and the sun goes down. I eat then walk around in the drizzle to enjoy the sakura at twilight. As the rain picks up its pace, I tuck my bike and gear in the gazebo and zip myself into my cozy tent. The rain dances on the taut nylon and soon I'm asleep.
In the dream my tent is flowing down hill towards a small cluster of houses. When the tent comes to a stop, I unzip the fly and a couple of old friends are there looking over a map. As I greet them I feel as though I'm on a waterbed. Suddenly, I'm awake in darkness and pelting rain. My old friends are gone as is the cluster of houses. But I still feel like I'm on a waterbed. I reach both arms beyond my pad and feel the tent's waterproof floor. The coated fabric ripples. Now I'm fully awake sloshing about the waterbed, deflating the air mattress and stuffing clothes and sleeping bag into a nylon sack before the water seeps through the floor.
I unzip the tent and dash through the torrent for the gazebo with all my gear. The gazebo is sturdy but old and the roof has not been looked after. As much rain falls on my bike and me as on the tent. Eariler, I scoped out the bathroom about 600m away (Plan C), and now stuffed everything in my Wald, hopped on the bike and pedalled (paddled?) through a 5cm of pond that stretched from the gazebo to the restroom on the other side of the running track. I'd come back for my tent in daylight.
The toilets offered a men's and a women's rooms. In between was a larger room for wheelchair access. Certainly this was the least used of the rooms, so I'd sleep here. I slid back the door to reveal, even in the dark, a gleaming facility (much cleaner I'm certain than most hotel rooms in North America.) And dry! I filled my Thermarest, rolled out my sleeping bag and drifted off feeling pretty pleased with myself for having a Plan C.
The next morning the rain had intensified. I ate breakfast and sipped coffee while I awaited a break in the rain so I could retrieve my tent. The break didn't really come until about 4pm that afternoon. So, I hung out, read, cooked, drank tea and enjoyed the variety of small creatures who also found the wonderful restrooms to be a good Plan C. By 5pm, my sodden tent and I were underway riding along the coast as the receding cumulonimbus captured the pinks and oranges of the glorious sunset.
As a final note, Yakushima is also quite well known for its cascading waterfalls, and each was positively swollen as I rode from one to the next.
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