Arigato!" It may sound strange to start a story with the word "thank you", but since everything is strange in Japan, it works. You can't be polite enough in Japan. Thank you is therefore a word that you should learn and memorise as quickly as possible, otherwise you'll get into trouble here. Practise it right now. And while you're saying "arigato", practise using the wooden chopsticks (if they're made of plastic, the restaurant is no good) - "arigato" with a quick and nice hollow-sounding O at the end. You can stretch your neck warm, because it needs to be supple for the dozens of bows you have to make every day to show respect to everyone here. But that alone is still not enough. You also need gifts. Lots of gifts. Everyone wants presents, because everyone gives you presents in Japan and all the bows and even ten "arigatos" with a quick O are useless if you don't have a goddamn present with you.
And we're nowhere near the trail yet. You have to know: In Japan, people do more trail maintenance than they actually ride the trails. So if you come across one of the many trail maintenance teams on the road, I can only advise you to quickly unpack your folding spade and sweep back the dirt that your tyres have just sprayed away.
Japan is a real trip. If only because of the crazy sensory impressions that overwhelm you as soon as you step into the arrivals hall at the airport. You probably won't forget all of this for the rest of your life. Because, with or without a bike, Japan is a completely different world: skyscrapers, neon signs, streets full of cars that incessantly and honey-chew their way across the tarmac ...
The first day begins with drizzle. It's 5 o'clock in the morning. We crawl out of our hard Japanese futon beds at 3 a.m. and start robotising. Day, night? We are travelling zombies with no sense of time. But the noise in the market hall wakes us up. Short-shaven Japanese men with bull necks and rubber aprons scream their heads off. The guys stand between long rows of silver tuna, lined up on the floor like aeroplane bombs. Lifeless, frozen, covered in frost, robbed of their fins. Tsukiji is Tokyo's largest fish market and apparently also the largest in the world. We stand around, shivering, marvelling, our breath like bright candy floss in front of our mouths, our arms close to our bodies so as not to accidentally bid on one of these 400-kilo tuna. They cost a fortune.
Japan in fast-forward: We see real geishas in pontochos, drink sake in downtown Osaka, cruise through the bamboo forest of Kyoto and watch sumo wrestlers ramming their bodies weighing up to 280 kilos against each other. The rolls of fat are deceptive, by the way - underneath are muscles of steel and many of these bolides can even bend their legs into splits. Hiroshi Ato, one of Japan's best-known and most talented bikers, and his girlfriend Keiko Tomata make every effort to give us the full Japanese experience before we get down to the real biking.
Our bike expedition to the Yamanashi district starts from Hiroshi's flat in the centre of Osaka in a fully packed Toyota. Hiroshi leaves his expensive downhiller in front of the house overnight - unlocked. No problem - just to give you an idea of Japan's crime rate. Steffi gorges herself on the country's typical instant noodles before setting off (creepy) and has to go to the loo straight afterwards. This is also an experience in Japan. The toilets are fully automated. It buzzes and hisses, the toilet seat rotates and wraps itself in plastic. You get the feeling that the loo is about to set off rockets and fly to Mars.
During the journey, our buddy Bernardo Cruz, World Cup downhiller and superwhipper from Brazil, hangs between the travelling bags like a corpse - no wonder after his 36-hour journey from Belo Horizonte. The guy is done. He doesn't jump up until the world-famous Mount Fuji appears on the horizon and stretches its snow cap into the ice-blue Japanese sky in a postcard pose, as if to tell us: I am the greatest. And he is. At over 3700 metres, no other mountain in Japan is higher. This is where we shred our first single trail the next day. "Check the trees!", Steffi calls over to Bernardo as the two of them curve around narrow trunks on their enduro bikes. Moss and lichen hang from the branches in tangled tangles. The trails are impressive: grippy earth, smooth turns, lots of flow. We didn't expect that - and above all: no one there! Strange. Why not? The locals that we meet later on are all over us. "No biking allowed!", they confess. Well, biking is also forbidden in many places here, but unlike us, the Japanese strictly adhere to the rules. This is one reason why mountain biking here in this beautiful country is not allowed. We don't take such a narrow view and after a few days of extensive enduro tours and the first calluses on our hands, we visit Japan's largest bike park, Fujimi Panorama. It's comparable to Bischofsmais in Germany (only the cable car is faster - haha!). The three trails lead downhill through dense dwarf bamboo. Strikingly, there isn't a single jump in the whole park. Hiroshi apologises: "We want to avoid injuries so as not to discredit bikers in the public eye." So here, too, it's better to pedal quietly and stay under the public radar. Strange really, because in 1998, when Grundig financed the series and the races were broadcast on Eurosport, there was a Downhill World Cup in Arai. But since the last competition in 2001, mountain biking in Japan seems to have fallen back into a deep sleep.
We drive on, because Hiroshi wants to show us a temple complex with eternally long stairs. This is where the Red Bull Holy Ride takes place, a kamikaze fourcross with hair-raising crashes. Bernardo is in his element and even manages to pull off some of his legendary whips - much to the delight of the spectators, who are quick to whip out their mobile phone cameras. Afterwards, Hiroshi fantasises about a dazzling MTB future in Japan, a country caught between tradition and a strict code of conduct. How he would love to convince the 127 million people, squeezed between the ocean and the mountains, that there is enormous potential here.
Somehow, epic trips like this always seem to come to an abrupt end. Time is up and we have only explored a tiny part of Japan. Or as Bernardo Cruz puts it: "Oh, Japan is crazy. Forests, mountains, trails everywhere. Too good to be true. I want to stay here and build jumps everywhere." Our Japan locals laugh, but again we don't know: do they find what Bernardo is saying really funny or terribly rude?
Interview with gravity princess Steffi Marth: Steffi, mountain biking in Japan - a must?
When you think of freeriding, you don't necessarily think of Japan, at least not in summer.
That's right. You can also go biking here or in Austria. But I was attracted to Japan with its special lifestyle. I just wanted to experience it. My friend Nathan is a keen skier and raved to me about the unique pillow runs in Japan. We thought: Where you can freeride well in winter, you should also be able to have fun in summer.
Culture shock?
But hello, this is a completely different world.
Is there even a bike scene there?
I had no idea myself what we would find. But there was a scene. We were in a bike park where it was like a funfair. I've rarely seen so many riders in one park.
Are they more like Martians or do you come into contact with Japanese park freeriders?
Rather difficult. As a western-looking person, you're a colourful dog anyway - we were the only ones - and then there's the language barrier. But we had Japanese travelling companions, which helped a little.
Your guides will have shown you the trails - but could you just cycle off?
Well, a lot of things are forbidden in Japan. But it's no different here. We just cycled off - that works. Our guides knew the trails, but you can also find them on the internet.
What kind of trails are these?
Really great trails. One of them is definitely one of the top 3 I've ever ridden. There is very exotic terrain with bamboo forests, but also trails with vegetation like we have here. In short: Japan offers really great mountain bike terrain, but hardly anyone seems to know about it. Which is a good thing.
Which bikes were you travelling with?
We had enduro bikes and big bikes with us. But enduro bikes are the right choice. We could have done without the big bikes, as there are no real jumps even in the bike parks. We had to shovel our own snow for the action.
What was your personal highlight?
I was impressed by the different culture. I had only seen something like this on television before. The people are inscrutable. Are they just being polite and actually think you're daft? You never know. You also never know how to behave. Everything is different there!
Is once enough or do you want to go to Japan again?
I definitely want to go back. The island is huge and has enormous freeride potential - we've only seen a small part of it.
INFO JAPAN
Best time to travel: May to September.
Ideal bike: Enduro.
Organiser: Bike Adventure Tours offers a 16-day bike and culture trip twice a year.
