Beginner Bikepacking in Japan or: How I Learned to Plan Less and See More 

Japan offered a soft entry into a grueling adventure for Dan and Sam as they pedalled 1000km from Narita to Onomichi, hitting Japanese servos, pit stopping at bike shops, and not sleeping heaps.

‘Dude – quick – over there! Just roll out your mattress; I’ll check for better spots.’ The overnight ferry from Kobe to Takamatsu was rapidly filling. People were madly claiming their sleeping territory; meanwhile, the dining room filled with slurps of ramen being demolished. 

Dan and I cut our losses on finding an actual sleeping area and ended up pretty chuffed with our own stretch of wall – between a bin and the main staircase. Two hours of sleep was just enough to feel terrible as we rolled our fully-laden bikes off the ferry at 5am, met by a dark and brisk shipping port. Motivation was low and we needed somewhere warm to shut our eyes before continuing day 12 of our 1000km bikepack across Japan.

Kobe backstreets

For my first bikepacking trip, I was in the very safe hands of my longtime friend and cycling sensei, Dan. Growing up in Toowoomba, Dan and I used to ride before and after school. 

Dan went on to race at a national level and a couple of seasons in Europe. Me? I try to keep fit enough to say ‘yes’ to whatever crazy ideas we come up with together. 

Twelve months prior to the trip, we locked in a ride across the Land of the Rising Sun, from Tokyo to Onomichi, giving us time to prepare.

The setup: less is more

Bikepacking is just like backpacking but you throw everything on a bike, right? Well, sort-of. There are a few key principles which translate: pack light, pack for all conditions, but more importantly, pack aerodynamically. 

I knocked over a few gruelling days on gravel routes around Brisbane to test my kit and know my limits; but the majority of my training was fitting in 12km commutes to and from work. 

Read more: How To Plan Your First Overnight Bike Trip

Shimanimi Kaido: a bikepacker’s dream

We left a lot to chance as we departed Brisbane to Narita, with only one night of accommodation booked and no exact route. To minimise start-of-trip-stress, I booked the largest hotel room I could find at Narita Airport for us to rebuild our bikes, which had been strategically packed into large cardboard boxes for the flight. 

This was a Jenga process complicated by my stubbornness to avoid paying more than 25kg of Jetstar luggage. Somehow, we didn’t forget anything, but friends were sending us news articles of bear attacks in Japan, so after a quick stop at an Aeon Mall to grab some snacks and the largest bottle of bear spray available, we were on our way.

Heading west from Kujukuri Beach

We coasted out of Narita on a perfect day towards the ocean on backroads, away from the chaos of Tokyo. Our bikes were heavy, but we felt light with a sense of relief, relying on our rigs and legs to carry us for the next couple weeks. 

Read more: Packing Your Bicycle for a Flight – Everything You Need To Know

If you’ve ever cycled in a bunch before, you’d understand the benefits of ‘drafting’, where the cyclist in front breaks the wind for the next rider, sitting in their slipstream. Dan, who loyally broke the headwind for me, got first dibs at the bathroom and food haul while I looked after the bikes. 

We were stopping at Lawson Stations and 7-Elevens up to five times per day. Dan would bring out his meals and I tried my best to match his calorie intake. This was going well until day five, when I realised three instant shrimp ramen packets was my limit, and I went from loving food to despising it instantly. 

The next day we made the wise decision to limit our ramen intake to keep our two pairs of undies clean.

‘Too much broth,’ we agreed.

On top of Dan’s wisdom, I was blessed with incredible Japanese hospitality during all aspects of the trip – it was one of the main reasons I chose Japan as a good first bikepacking destination. 

On day five, my gear cable snapped and I was stuck in one gear – not ideal for a hilly day. Luckily, there were three different bike shops within a five-kilometre radius, one of which put the bike straight up on a stand and got the repair done within 30 minutes for $25AUD. 

We were in awe. A bit of luck? We later found out this pit-stop style repair service was simply standard practice, during our five stops at bike mechanics throughout the trip.

Carpark camping

Our route planning was nothing spectacular: ‘How are the legs? How are our stomachs? How are the winds?’ These were the simple questions asked of each other during our camp dinners to determine how far west we could ride the next day. 

We then used apps such as ‘NAP-CAMP’ and ‘Rolling Around’ to search for campsites in our target area. We had a few mishaps when our translation skills resulted in no showers; but for the most part, we had somewhere suitable to set up camp and relax at the end of each day.

Clear skies rolling out of Fujiminooka Auto Camping Ground

That was until our ferry fiasco on day 12 in Takamatsu. In desperation to find somewhere warm without setting up tents, I remembered reading about these 24hr internet cafés used as a cheapo way for salarymen to sleep off a hangover – and there was one just five minutes down the road!

After some communication complications with the cafe staff, we scored a 2.5 metre squared karaoke room, which we filled with all of our gear and sleeping mats. Perfect! As we lay down, the voices piped up. Japanese pop songs at feverish pitches prevented yet another night of rest. 

And so began our morning ritual – a dash to a trusty convenience store for a hot canned coffee and omelette rice combo before punching out another 100km towards Imbari.

A morning brew overlooking the Innoshima Bridge

Without having attempted a bikepacking trip in any other countries, I’m confident Japan is the most forgiving place to start. The unmatched hospitality, the crisp November conditions, the convenience stores, bike mechanics, and reliably smooth roads made this trip hard to beat. 

So if you’re an average adventurer like myself and are considering a trip: get your rig dialed, commit to a daily cycling commute, book the flight, and bring your best mate who happens to be a triathlete (optional).