Cones of the Koshu Kaido

I originally put together this little collection of traffic cone photos from my Koshu Kaido walk for my erstwhile walking partner and traffic cone artist extraordinaire Erik. But I may as well share them with you all. Enjoy!

The all time best running coach

"Give me a hundred kids and I can give you an Olympic champion."

So said New Zealander Arthur Lydiard, once hailed by Runner's World as the "all time best running coach". At the 1960 Olympics in Rome, three Lydiard-coached runners (all of them "ordinary runners", according to Lydiard) won medals. One of these runners, Murray Halberg, hadn't been able to use his left arm since suffering a serious rugby injury as a youth. Halberg won gold in the 5000m. Peter Snell won gold in the 800m at Rome (and golds in the 800m and 1500m at the Tokyo Olympics in 1964). Barry Magee won bronze in the Marathon at Rome.

Lydiard's training philosophy, radical at the time but later emulated by coaches around the world, involved building stamina and endurance in his athletes by having them run 160km a week regardless of their specialist distance. On top of this base training he added phases of specialized training to ensure his athletes were at the peak of readiness for major events like the Olympics.

In the late-1960s Lydiard moved to Finland where he sparked a renaissance in Finnish distance running. But his influence continued to be felt in New Zealand, where the great middle-distance runners of the 1970s, Rod Dixon, John Walker and Dick Quax, benefited from his training legacy.

Lydiard is also credited with sparking the jogging boom of the 1960s and 70s by encouraging people to run to stay fit. Prior to this, "fun runs" and mass-start marathons were non-existent. Marathons were the preserve of a special breed of athlete, "nut-cases," Lydiard called them.

A feature of the mass-start marathons of today is the presence of large numbers of older runners. Says Garth Gilmour in the foreword to Lydiard's Distance Training for Masters:

[T]he bulk of those huge fields have always been masters runners. Many began as keep-fit joggers who became so fit that the dormant instinct to compete and to reach for personal goals roared back into action. For people learning and succeeding to run well, it became a logical challenge to complete a 10-kilometres fun run or race, then a half-marathon and then that ultimate, a full marathon, to see how far and how fast they could go. The original intention, merely to run regularly for their health's sake, escalated into today's mass-start marathons all around the globe.

A plodder

According to New Zealand film director Michael Bennett, who last year completed the New York Marathon, there are so many similarities between film-making and running it's ridiculous.

"You have to be so utterly committed to both. I've got no talent as a runner. I'm only a plodder. The only thing I bring to running is commitment, focus and bloody-minded determination, and whatever talent I have as a film-maker is based around those same three things."

Yeah, that's me. A plodder.

Medium-term goal: Christchurch City 2 Surf, 27 March 2011.

Due back

Christchurch City Libraries
Library name: Central Library
User ID: ***101100

Title: Distance training for masters
Author: Lydiard, Arthur, 1917-2004
Date charged: 19/11/2010
Date due: 17/12/2010

Title: Marathon runner's handbook
Author: Fordyce, Bruce, 1955-
Date charged: 19/11/2010
Date due: 17/12/2010

Rod Dixon

A youthful-looking Rod Dixon popped up on the television the other day. Of the three great New Zealand middle-distance runners of the 1970s (John Walker and Dick Quax were the other two), Dixon was my favourite. Walker may have outshone him with his world record in the mile and Olympic gold in the 1500 metres, but Dixon was an extremely versatile athlete, posting world class times in everything from the 1500 metres through to the marathon.

Perhaps Dixon's greatest single achievement was winning the New York City Marathon in 1983. I remember watching this race live on television. It had what has been described as one of the most dramatic finishes the event has ever seen, with Dixon overtaking Geoff Smith of England in the final kilometre through Central Park to win by eight seconds in what was then the tenth fastest time for the marathon.

Here's a nice article about Dixon. And below is a recent video of Dixon talking about his New York City Marathon win with clips of the race. The scene at the end with Dixon raising his hands in the air while Smith collapses over the finishing line says it all.

The real-life murder case behind Any Human Heart

William Boyd's Any Human Heart has been turned into a TV mini-series, and to coincide with its screening in the UK, the Scottish author has penned an article for The Guardian about one of the real-life events portrayed in the novel. Also in the excellent Books section of the Guardian website is this funny piece by New Zealand author Lloyd Jones.

Day 11: Chofu - Nihonbashi

Distance covered: 23.1km
Weather: Stormy

The final day of a walk always brings mixed feelings, of anticipation of reaching the end, of euphoria at crossing the finishing line, of satisfaction at achieving a goal, of relief at the thought of not having to get up the next morning and shoulder that goddamn pack, of regret that the adventure is over, of emptiness.

I woke after a poor night's sleep. My hotel room got quite hot during the night, but I was loath to attempt adjusting the air conditioning given the age of the equipment. Breakfast was a set menu of an omelet, a slice of orange, two small wiener sausages (which I ate!), salad, soup and toast. I found a nice table by the window but had to move when a smoker arrived at the next table and lit a cigarette. I can put up with a certain amount of cigarette smoke during the day and in the evening, but first thing in the morning, and especially during breakfast, my tolerance is very low.


It was raining as I set off at 8am and proceeded down Route 20 to Sengawa, where I spotted the Kewpie Mayonnaise factory my friends from the previous evening had mentioned. It says something about the quality of the scenery between Chofu and Shinjuku that this was one of the highlights worthy of a photograph. Things got much worse. An hour or so later I found myself walking beside the raised Shuto Expressway. It remained by my side for the next eight or so kilometres, all the way to Shinjuku.


I took my only break of the morning at a 24-hour McDonalds near Sasazuka. There were a dozen or so people upstairs, most of whom were making use of the free Wi-Fi and working away on laptops. There was one couple asleep.


Shinjuku itself has some spectacular architecture, made even more spectacular by the thunder and lightening that coincided with my arrival. My route took me passed Shinjuku Park Tower (whose occupants include the Park Hyatt Hotel of Lost in Translation fame), the towering Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building, and Shinjuku Station, the busiest station in the world.

My hotel was on the other side of the station just off the Koshu Kaido, so I stopped off for a quick break and to dump my pack (Mrs Fool had checked in the day before but was out when I arrived). I had lunch at a nearby restaurant and then set off, minus my rain jacket and rain pants but with my trusty umbrella in hand, on the final leg of my journey to Nihonbashi, some six kilometres away. My feet were soaking wet by this stage (after two days of walking in the rain my shoes were completely waterlogged), but I enjoyed the walk through Yotsuya and Kojimachi, and by the time I reached the grounds of the Imperial Palace the rain had stopped.

I followed the moat around to Marunouchi, cut through Tokyo station, and arrived at Nihonbashi just after 3pm. I laughed when I saw there were major roadworks going on over the bridge and cones everywhere.


After some celebratory coffee and cake at a coffee shop, I made my way back to Tokyo station and caught a train to Shinjuku.

Day 10: Hachioji - Chofu

Distance covered: 22.5km
Weather: Rain

I sat by the window in the hotel's second-floor restaurant and watched people with umbrellas pass by on the street below as I breakfasted on freshly baked pastries, a hard-boiled egg and coffee. Not a great day for taking photos or admiring the scenery, I thought, but as I was already in the grip of the urban sprawl of greater Tokyo and would be restricted to busy Route 20 and the slightly less busy Route 229 for most of the day, the rain didn't turn out to be much of a hindrance.

I was in no great hurry to get under way, and it was 8.30am by the time I'd packed, put on my rain gear, checked out and hit the pavement. After about five kilometres of straight road, I made a dog leg and crossed the Tama River. Just before the river I passed a doll shop in front of which stood these two massive, very bedraggled-looking dolls. They kind of sum up how I felt at the time.



The climb over the Tappi bridge was probably the only climb of the day, and helped break up the monotony of the straight, flat roads I would be pounding for the next two days. On the opposite side of the river was a monument marking the spot of the original river crossing.


A little further on I passed a McDonald's and went in to take a break from the rain. The lovely aromas inside made me feel a bit peckish, so I ordered some hotcakes, a hash brown and a coffee. I pushed on and by lunchtime had reached Fuchu. For lunch I found a Saizeriya and had pizza. Nearby was a large shrine, and in the shrine car park I spotted this tiny car, probably the smallest car I've ever seen.


Then it was back on Route 229, which took me all the way to my goal for the day: Chofu. Although it was right by the station, I had a bit of trouble finding my hotel and ended up walking round the block a couple of times. After freshening up, I met a couple of friends from nearby Sengawa and we went out for a nice Indian meal. It was still raining as I bid my friends farewell and headed back to my hotel. I was in bed and asleep by 9pm.

Day 9: Uenohara - Hachioji

Distance covered: 27km
Weather: Fine

I woke at the ridiculous hour of 4am (after 10 days my internal clock still hadn't adjusted from New Zealand time) and read for a while before dozing off again until 6am. The breakfast buffet was very strange. Gone were the mini-omelets, replaced by scrambled eggs of the strangest, watery consistency. To go with this I had grilled fish (trout, I think), chips with tomato sauce, and tinned peaches.


I left the hotel at 8am, and for the first hour or so the up/down terrain of the day before continued as I made my way along the Sagami River towards Lake Sagami. I took a break at Sagamiko station. The station was quiet when I arrived but was soon filled with hikers arriving by train from Tokyo.


Since I was about to leave the main road and head over the final big pass of my walk (Kobotoke Pass), I stopped at a convenience store to get some rice balls and pound cake to take with me for lunch. It was a Sunday, and there were quite a few cyclists on the road, some of whom stopped at the convenience store to shop. There were also a couple of bosozoku in the car park waiting for their mates. They passed me further down the road, about a dozen of them riding their bizarrely modified motorbikes at high revs but low speed, holding up the traffic behind them.


I left the main road shortly after passing through the old post town of Obara and followed a narrow road that went under the Chuo Expressway and up to the start of the walking track up to the pass. To my great relief, the track was well maintained and there were plenty of other hikers to reassure me I was heading in the right direction. The weather was also good: fine but not too hot. Still, it took me much longer to reach the top than I imagined. I got there at 12.45pm and sat on a bench to eat my onigiri and pound cake. As I was eating my lunch I watched lots of people coming and going, not only along the Koshu Kaido but along other tracks that all seemed to converge at the top of the pass. There was a good view of Hachioji and, in the distance, my final destination: Tokyo.


I began the descent and reached the bottom about half an hour later where there was a bus waiting to take day hikers to Takao station. I think I was the only hiker who didn't get on the buss. At Takao station I took a break before making my final push into Hachioji, which was a more-or-less straight run along Route 20. I reached my hotel at 4.45pm and did a load of washing before heading to a nearby Saizeriya restaurant for dinner. It was raining lightly as I made my way back to my hotel. According to the weather forecast, more rain was likely tomorrow and the day after.

Day 8: Otsuki - Uenohara

Distance covered: 21.3km
Weather: Cloudy then fine

It was raining when I peeked out my hotel room window at 5am, but by the time I got up at 6am the rain had stopped. I breakfasted from 7am (as at the other Route Inn hotel I'd stayed in at Nirasaki, the bread selection was poor and I went Japanese-style: squid rings, mini-omelets, salad, fruit, rice and miso soup). I then packed a few essentials in my bum bag and donned my rain jacket (it was the coolest morning so far) before walking to the station to catch the train back to Otsuki. The departure information board showed a train bound for Otsuki and Fujinomiya departing at 8.06am, but thinking I was at Otsuki instead of Uenohara I didn't get on. I had to wait for the next train to Otsuki, which didn't leave until 8.26am.


I reached Otsuki at 8.45am and rejoined the Koshu Kaido. A few kilometres down the road I came to the Sarubashi, or Monkey Bridge, which officially ranks as one of Japan's "three most unusual bridges". The present bridge is a 1984 replica of the original, which was probably built in the early 7th century. The unusual design is a result of the support mechanism necessitated by the inability to use columns given the distance (31 metres) between the bridge and the river below.

A Hiroshige print showing Sarubashi

I followed Route 20 to Torisawa, where I bought some hot chips at a convenience store before leaving the busy main road. For the rest of the day I was walking on much quieter roads which, after an initial steep climb, took me through pleasant, rolling countryside including the old post towns of Inume and Nodajiri.


A couple of times I crossed the Chuo Expressway, one of the two main highways connecting Tokyo and Nagoya. After the second of these crossings I spotted a large "service area" - a covered mall-like complex containing souvenir shops and restaurants for people traveling on the expressway - and decided to have lunch there. However, eating at one of the restaurants required queuing to buy a ticket, so I bought some bread at a bakery and ate outside instead. It felt strange rubbing shoulders with all the city folk with their fine clothes and lap dogs. Sweaty and wearing casual walking gear, I felt even more out of place than usual.

View of the service area where I had lunch (behind the trees on the
right) and the Kanto plain (through the gap in the hills on the horizon)

By now the cloud had mostly disappeared and it was fine and warm. I left the service area and continued on to Uenohara, arriving at around 3.30pm. For dinner I bought some cold soba noodles, sushi, and a purin at a convenience store and ate in my room.

Day 7: Tsuruse - Otsuki

Distance covered: 27km
Weather: Cloudy

As I was checking out of my hotel in Kofu, the receptionist glanced at my pack and asked, "Are you going mountain climbing?"
"No, just walking," I said.
In fact I knew little about what lay in store for me on the road ahead, only that it was the most difficult stage of the Koshu Kaido and included a 1100m high pass.


From the hotel I walked to Kofu station and caught the 7.38am train back to Kai-Yamoto. By 8.30am I had rejoined the Koshu Kaido at the point where I'd left it the day before. Rain was forecast, but it was cloudy and mild as I started the climb up to Sasago Pass, ideal conditions for walking. The narrow road passed underneath the Chuo Expressway and wound its way up to the old post town of Komakai, now a sleepy little farming village. I caught my breath and had a few slugs of water before continuing on. After negotiating a series of hairpin turns I left the road and joined a walking track. At this point there was a basket containing a selection of walking poles fashioned from branches, indicating that the worst of the climb was still to come.


The track followed a stream, which I had to traverse several times, either by crossing narrow, rickety bridges or jumping across with the aid of stepping stones. As I continued to climb, the track became narrower and less defined. After one fording I was unable to work out where it started again on the other side. I eventually found it again twenty or so metres upstream.


I briefly rejoined the narrow road I'd been following earlier in the morning before leaving it again as it disappeared into a tunnel. According to my map, the top of the pass was less than a hundred metres ahead. I carried on, and although judging distance traveled is difficult when the route is steep, I was sure I'd gone further than 100 metres. I spotted a T-junction ahead with a sign. Surely that must be the top, I thought. But the sign made no mention of a pass, only indicating that the route to the right went to Sasago station while the route to the left went somewhere else (I couldn't read one of the characters). The route to the right was completely overgrown, so figuring that the more well-traveled route was the correct one, I went left.


The path followed a ridge and took me up, then down, then up again. Something didn't feel right (surely I should be descending by now, I thought), so I turned around and went back to the T-junction. I looked at the sign again (one part of which had been ripped off and lay on the ground). I took out my compass and studied my map in a vain effort to work out exactly where I was. Visibility was poor due to the cloud that was now swirling all around me, and the trees swayed menacingly in the chilly wind. I felt incredibly lonely. I hadn't seen another human since leaving Komakai. To lift my spirits and give me a much needed energy boost I ate a few handfuls of Scrummy Mix. I set off again on the path to the left, but it still didn't feel right, so I turned around again and went back to the sign. Only after unfolding my map did I realize the Koshu Kaido actually passed Sasago station. I laughed. Obviously I should have turned right at the T-junction. But why was the path so narrow and overgrown? I followed it for a few metres until it disappeared down a steep, almost vertical slope. There was a rope tied to a tree at the top with knots every metre or so. "You've got to be joking," I said out loud.


Reluctantly, I gripped the rope and slowly eased myself down. After reaching the bottom of the slope I followed the overgrown track until it reached a clearing. There I found a well-established path and a sign: Sasago Pass! I retraced my route in my head and soon figured out where I'd gone wrong. I remembered coming to a shrine just after crossing the road after it went into the tunnel. There was a fork in the path, and without much thought I'd taken the path that passed in front of the shrine instead of the path that went off to the right. I'd inadvertently added at least a kilometre of climbing and goodness knows how much time to the day's walk.

The good news was it was downhill the rest of the way, and although I took another wrong turn shortly afterward, I was soon out of the woods and back on Route 20. At 12.45pm I passed the Sasaichi sake brewery. According to a large digital display on the side of the road the temperature was 15 degrees. Quite a change from the 35 degrees of two days ago. Attached to the brewery was a small restaurant so I stopped and had lunch of kitsune soba noodles. I then rejoined Route 20 and followed it all the way to my goal for the day, Otsuki, arriving there at around 3.30pm. Shortly before reaching Otsuki station I spotted a Gusto family restaurant and went in for a second lunch of spaghetti with shrimps and crab meat. I downed a couple of delicious espressos from the machine at the drink bar before heading to the station to catch a train to Uenohara.


After arriving at Uenohara station I had to walk a couple of kilometres to get to my hotel. It was uphill (something I hadn't gathered from checking the route on the Internet) and for the third time since leaving Kofu that morning I got lost. I finally arrived at the hotel at around 5.15pm. To make what had been a terrible day worse, the trousers I'd washed the night before were now covered in mud from the rope descent to Sasago pass. Luckily the mud was mostly below the knees, so instead of washing the whole garment I cleverly unzipped the bottoms and just washed those.

Interlude: Kura of the Koshu Kaido

Below are just some of the many photographs of kura (storehouses) I took while walking from Shimo-Suwa to Tokyo. Enjoy!

Day 6: Kofu - Tsuruse

Distance covered: 28.9km
Weather: Rain

Conscious that I had a long day ahead, I got up at 6am with the aim of leaving my hotel at 7am. Seeing as I was staying at the same hotel that night (I intended to catch the train back to Kofu at the end of the day's walk), I didn't even need to pack, but for some reason I was late getting away and didn't hit the road until 7.15am.

Rain was forecast but for the first couple of hours it was dry and the road flat. I'd left my pack at the hotel and had with me just by bum bag. With no room for my rain jacket and pants, I'd be relying on my folding umbrella if it did rain. After days of having at least one hand free, it felt a bit awkward carrying my water bottle in a plastic bag in one hand and the walking map in the other. Things got really awkward when it did start to rain and I had to hold the umbrella as well. I eventually thought I'd sorted everything out, but then I realized I was missing something: the map! I looked back and saw it on the road about 20m behind me. Luckily I was able to run back and pick it up before it blew away or was run over by a truck.

The vineyards of Katsunuma

I spent the entire day in the Kofu basin, which is famous as a fruit-growing region. Grapes are an especially popular crop, having been grown here for some 800 years ago. Wine production only started in 1890, although today Yamanashi is the number one wine-producing region in the country. The area around Katsunuma in particular is full of vineyards where you can stop to pick your own grapes for eating or taste the local wine. I also saw many excellent kura, including a rare three-storied one and one converted into a wine shop.



After Katsunuma the road started to climb as it approached the Sasago pass, which I'd be walking over the next day. I reached my goal of Tsuruse at 1.30pm and bought lunch at a convenience store before heading to Kai-Yamato station to catch the train back to Kofu. I had to wait 25 minutes for the next train, which to make matters worse was five minutes late (a rarity in Japan). Although the temperature was in the mid-twenties for most of the day, I felt quite cold as I waited on the station platform in the wind and rain. I just hoped the weather would be better the next day, when I'd be making my first foray into the mountains.

Day 5: Nirasaki - Kofu

Distance covered: 12.6km
Weather: Fine and very hot!

Thinking that breakfast was from 7am, I went down to the hotel restaurant a few minutes before the hour to find it was full (it actually opened at 6.45am), and had to wait a few minutes to get a table. It was billed as a "Japanese and Western style" buffet, but the selection of bread and pastries on offer was so poor I went for a Japanese-style breakfast of rice, miso soup, grilled fish (trout, I think), mini omelets, deep-fried squid rings (!?), and salad. I had a small coughing fit in the middle of the meal and felt a bit nauseous for a few minutes, a reaction to the unfamiliar morning menu (at home I'm a toast and coffee man) or possibly to the heat.

I left the hotel at 8.45. My goal for the day, the city of Kofu, was just 12.6km away, so I took it easy and made sure to drink lots of water given that the temperature was forecast to hit 32 degrees. After the sunburnt head debacle of the previous day, I'd switched to my Nike cap.

The scenery grew increasingly urban as the day wore on (Kofu is the capital of Yamanashi prefecture and the largest city in the area), although there were still plenty of nice old kura and other buildings and I enjoyed the views of the surrounding mountains. I even caught a glimpse of Mount Fuji in the afternoon, albeit behind a cloak of haze.


At around midday I passed the Yamanashi Prefectural Museum of Art. I knew they had a substantial Millet collection as well as some Henry Moore sculptures. But I had another reason for stopping, and that was to escape the fierce heat. As I learnt later that evening, the temperature in Kofu reached 35.7 degrees that day. In that kind of heat, any concern for sartorial elegance is abandoned as one's instinct for self-preservation kicks in. In short, I put a towel on my head.


I spent an hour or so in the air-conditioned museum checking out the Millet collection as well as a fascinating exhibition of photographs by Felix Thiollier, a pioneering French photographer whose works (including some of the very first color photographs) have only recently come to the attention of the art world.

For the last few kilometeres into Kofu I was thankful for the shade the taller buildings of the city provided. I headed for the station area and lunched on spaghetti, salad, and iced coffee before booking into my hotel at around 2.45pm. After doing some washing in the bathtub (there was no coin laundry), I visited the basement food floor of the department store just down the road and bought a small can of beer and some deep-fried squid rings and some sushi and salad for dinner. As breakfast wasn't included at my hotel, I also got some yoghurt and bread for the next morning. Back in my hotel room, I checked out the weather on the TV to find rain was forecast, which sounded just fine after the scorching heat of today's leg.