When people ask me how to best view the blossoms in Japan, I tell them they should train for a month and do this bike ride.

In a nation full of ancient beauty, nothing encapsulates both of those words like this two-years-late blog post.

The famous bike path crosses several Japanese islands.  For a short period, maybe one month a year, it is the most beautiful ride on Earth.  It is the Shimanami Kaido, and the best time to ride it is early April, during the brief appearance of Japan’s cherry blossoms.

Connecting Japan’s most populated main island, Honshu, to it’s more rural central island, Shikoku, and to another half-dozen islands in between, the Kaido is a rainbow road of bridges, blossoms, straits, and even fruit.

I took this journey with some friends in April 2016, and of course, I took way too many pictures.  With my usual deliberation and delay, I have reduced the collection to about fifty photos here.  While they may capture some of the beauty of the journey, they do not reflect the hustle and struggle of a forty-mile bike ride.

So for the record, I encourage all to take this ride if they ever have a chance, but to get some exercise in the month preceding it (really, get some anyway, but that’s neither here nor there, you look great!).  I reject the responsibility future-you would hurl at me while bent double heaving on a windy bridge that feels up-hill the entire way.

Anyway, here is the journey, mostly documented in photos:

We drove on Friday night to Fukuyama, then Saturday morning to Onomichi.  Greeting us at the embarkment was this adorable castle, presumably ruled by the cutest little daimyo.

We stayed overnight with two very hospitable English teachers working in the same program as Seth (pictured below).  They severely overfed us the morning of the ride, and sent us full of energy into the journey ahead.

After getting our bikes, we took a ferry to our official launch point.

Cranes became a familiar sight.  The area’s dominant industry became quite obvious.

So began a 40 mile slog of beauty and misery.

Occasionally, we’d come across these regal gazebos, complete with stunning views and over-competitive friends who raced ahead to prove how fast they could bike.

The Japanese really love building bridges.

They also love meaningless statues.

The blossoms were non-stop beauty.  But since most of Japan is urban, this coastal countryside (is that an oxymoron?) provided a unique view of rustic Japan.

The fruits were in full bloom.  Lemons, oranges, and “dekopon” were plentiful.

My very nice former boss would frequently bring in a whole box of dekopons to share with our office, fresh from her grandfather’s farm in Ehime (not far from our destination at the end of the bike path).  I probably ate a whole boxful cumulatively, yet I am still not sure what separates a dekopon from an orange.

Then, of course, there were awesome blossoms.

Seth was a little frustrated that this particular mountain wasn’t in full bloom.  You’ll get it next year buddy!

Hopefully you’re starting to get why I say this is the best way to view Japan’s cherry blossoms.  But it takes some work.  Forty miles’ worth.

Again, don’t blame me if it’s too hard. Take a scooter.

As if to complete the metaphor of the brevity of life that is so well represented by the two-week cherry blossoms, the currents flowed fast around the choppy islands, sweeping the falling petals into the big blue.

The final great specter then emerged.

After a spiral ascension, the final challenge was the two-and-a-half mile Kurushima Bridge, which sought to punish me for my cockiness in trying to complete the Shiminami Kaido before sundown.  After 38 miles of biking, the bridge crested twice.  And they were long, slow, windy crests.

And yet, the bridge rewards you for your troubles with majestic overlooks and a cooling breeze.  Ball and stick.

Was it planted? Or is it a runaway?

The end of that bridge felt like we’d all given birth.

Finally, the ride ended in Imabari, Ehime’s largest city with one whole skyscraper.  After turning in the bikes we simmered down in a local onsen (hot spring).  It was almost too perfect – the hot spring washed away all the physical pains of the 40 mile ride, leaving us to reflect only on the natural beauty we had experienced as we lounged away in steam and serenity.

We recuperated with a night out at an izakaya restaurant, then reunited in the morning to take our buses back to Onomichi.  But first, there was time to explore Imabari Castle.

One of Japan’s great traditional castles was celebrating a more modern public institution. There seemed to be a firefighter convention going on.

All of Ehime’s firefighters were here.  What if there was a fire in Imabari?

So what I thought.  If there was a fire, and all the firefighters were here, I could still die happy.  I’d conquered the world, only they’d renamed it.

The Shimanami Kaido.