By Mike Huber
I slowly awoke to a sunny Tokyo October morning. It obviously took me a bit to realize it was sunny as I was inside a windowless pod. Once I was out and about into the busy streets of Tokyo, I could actually embrace the sun’s warmth. It was time to enjoy a coffee and ensure my head was clear from the previous night’s adventure in Akihabara. Today was the day I was to begin an 8-day motorcycle adventure through Japan.
The caffeine kicked in as I boarded the Tokyo train to Rental819 in Odaiba, where I had reserved a motorcycle 2 weeks prior. Throughout my world travels I have found renting a smaller displacement on a motorcycle when outside the United States is the way to go. The larger heavier bikes just can’t compete in terms of agility in most other countries. For Japan I chose a displacement more in the middle as there are expansive highways in Japan where having some more pick up would be required. A Suzuki V-Strom 500cc would be my chosen steed for this journey through the land of the rising sun.
You never realize the expansiveness and density of Tokyo until you motorcycle through it. I was familiar with driving on the left side of the road as I have been flip flopping directional driving over the past 2 years month to month and country to country. With this level of comfort, I could fully absorb the awesomeness and size of Tokyo in its entirety. With no highway speed cameras it didn’t take long before I was out of the city and on my way towards Mount Fuji, but before that there was one place I wanted to experience.
I was on the outskirts of the Aokigahara Forest as mist and clouds began to surround me while the trees grew denser. This forest is also known as the suicide forest. This location is one of the most used places for suicides on earth. I parked the motorcycle next to a small sedan and decided to do a short hike to stretch out from the 3-hour ride. As I began hiking it hit me that maybe that sedan belonged to someone that came here with a purpose. The atmosphere was already very heavy and not wanting to see a body swinging from a tree I opted to end the hike and briskly return to the motorcycle and leave the forest.
A downside of riding this time of year in Japan was that Mount Fuji was hidden behind a wall of clouds. It reminded me of my home from a previous life near Mount Rainier, which would only show its ghostly glowing during the summer months. It seemed as though today would not be the day I would get my first glimpse of Mount Fuji, so as the sun began to dip into the clouds I opted to find a hotel for the evening, have dinner and prepare a direction for tomorrow’s adventure.
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A pod hotel is just that. It was a giant room filled with about 50 or so small containers like sleeping pods that are stacked two high. It is absolutely like sleeping in something you’d see in an 1980s sci-fi movie. This particular pod hotel had three floors of pods, and then on the top floor, an onsen (Japanese hot springs), a cold bath, showers, sauna, and a large dayroom for hanging out. For the price (approximately 40 USD) it was perfect for my 4-day stay in Tokyo.





I am usually comfortable with no planning, but before arriving in Tokyo (one of the largest cities on earth), I was feeling overwhelmed. Within 30 minutes of landing I learned there was no need for those feelings, though. Tokyo is one of the most organized, safest, cleanest, and well laid out cities I have ever visited. As I traveled through Japan for the next five weeks, I learned the people are some of the most beautiful in the world, and that is coming from someone who has seen quite a bit of the world.






This would be the Vietnam I was looking for. No congestion, no traffic stops, just miles of mountain switchbacks. This new chosen path didn’t come without a bit more adventure, too. Over the next five days I didn’t see one Westerner or tourist. None. The village homestays I chose were so far off the beaten path I don’t even think many of the locals had ever seen a Westerner. Communication was strictly between my charades and some Google Translate. The more rice wine I drank at the end of the evening, the less I relied on Google and the more colorful my charades became.

















