Morning Rides: A Ritual on Two Wheels

July 31, 2025

There’s something special about cycling before breakfast?just an hour or two in the quiet morning air, spinning the legs, mind still soft from sleep. I call it my “morning ride.” It’s become a bit of a ritual.

My choice of steed is almost always the road bike. I load it into the car and drive down from Hakuba Norikura to the Happo No.5 parking lot, my usual starting point. From there, I set out along the Olympic Road, heading toward Omachi, tracing the edges of Lake Aoki and Lake Kizaki before looping back. If my legs are feeling generous, I might stretch the ride to the far end of Lake Kizaki. Still, it’s always within two hours.

The route is mostly flat. I stay on the outer chainring the entire time?a quiet rule I’ve set for myself. No inner ring. No real climbs. That’s not what this ride is about. In fact, one of the reasons I drive down from Norikura is to avoid having to climb back up afterward. These rides are meant to be light. Focused. Just enough to say, “That felt good.”

It’s the simplicity that draws me in. The road bike fits perfectly here: short bursts, steady cadence, nothing extreme. Just spin and breathe. Feel the wind. No pressure. No power meters. No goals. Just movement.

And yet, with the turn of the season, the rhythm shifts. Come September, the air bites a little more in the mornings. That’s when I trade the bike for a jog or a brisk session of Nordic walking. The cold keeps me off the saddle. Cycling becomes an afternoon affair?and somehow, in that transition, I find myself leaving the road bike behind.

That’s the nature of our relationship. Once I’m free from the confines of the early-morning two-hour window, I gravitate toward other bikes?randonneurs, slick-tire MTBs, terrain-ready mountain bikes, or small folding bikes that travel easily by train. The road bike, for me, is a tool of the morning: a machine for clean, crisp motion on flat roads, a way to greet the day with fresh lungs and a clear mind.

For now, though, the morning rides continue. Quiet, solitary, satisfying.

And yet, not entirely alone. While filming one of my recent rides, I noticed my own shadow slipping in and out of the frame, dancing alongside me. It reminded me of the old Japanese phrase:
“Doko ninin” Two traveling together as one.

This expression originates from the Buddhist pilgrimage culture in Japan, especially in Shikoku. Pilgrims traditionally believe that they are never walking alone?that they are accompanied in spirit by the monk K?kai (also known as K?b? Daishi), the founder of Shingon Buddhism. The phrase speaks to the idea of an unseen companion, of guidance, presence, or simply not being alone in your journey?even if no one else is physically there.