Japan Is Not Flat Like Its Girls: 46 Days Pushing Across The Country by Elliott Burley

Author:Elliott Burley [Burley, Elliott]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2015-06-20T16:00:00+00:00

Map – Fukui to Yamaguchi

Day 22 – Tunnels of Doom

I woke up expecting a typhoon, not sprinkling rain, and decided not to spend another night in an old, poorly equipped hotel for the same price of a new one with modern Japanese amenities like a butt washer. After taking a morning shower and receiving sweets from the old lady downstairs, I made a break for a McDonald’s, buying an umbrella along the way.

Across the street from the McDonald’s was a perfectly positioned Internet cafe. I could kill the whole morning and afternoon drinking coffee, eating chicken nuggets, reading, and studying before checking into the net cafe when the typhoon would arrive. The rain stopped though, and according to the forecast, from now until sunset there was a 60% chance of it falling again. And looking at a map told me I was 55 kilometers, half a day’s travel distance, from Tsuruga City. The urge to skate was too strong.

The sidewalks of Fukui were smooth and despite the puddles, I had fun on my skate out of the city. When arriving at the town of Sabae, I talked with a petite girl wearing a gray, oversized batman sweatshirt on a walk with her two–year–old. Questions about approaching typhoons are great conversation starters. She was pretty and young. I couldn’t believe the boy was her child. According to the news she watched, the typhoon was expected to hit tonight and last until tomorrow afternoon. That was all the confirmation I needed to assure me I could advance to Tsuruga safely.

Everything went smoothly until reaching mountains. Like all mountains I’d crossed, I figured I’d be up and over in a few hours. I was wrong. This was no longer skate Japan but hike Japan. With my umbrella in one hand and my skateboard in the other, I used them like hiking sticks.

Arriving at two 1,100–meter tunnels, like Robert Frost, I was confused at which one to take. My erection points to the left so that’s where I went. The tunnel dripped water on my head, I stepped in brown sludge, and pebbles stabbed my heel through the hole in my shoe. At the end of the tunnel, I thought I’d find freedom in a downward descent, but there was a small village of houses squeezed between the mountains and one more climb upwards.

Rain, a rest–stop, and Tsuruga Bay welcomed me at the top, though there was no sign of the city. With my umbrella in hand, I skated down the mountainous, curvy road looking like Mary Poppins. The curves were too many; every time I looked behind a car would be ever so close. The tunnels had shoulders narrower than a bowling alley gutter lane if they had any shoulders at all. I’d skate through like a lion was on my heels and jump off and hug the wall if a trucker caught up to me.

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