Japanese biking

If it isn't obvious from some of my previous posts, I really enjoy biking.  The commute to the hall everyday has become one of my favorite times as I get to mingle with the fresh air, the sounds of the river and its wildlife, and the people that take advantage of its green banks.  I also pass through small sections of neighborhoods and occasionally get a privileged glimpse of life.  Elementary school children doing calisthenics in their dirt playground one morning and marching in a small band the next;  farmers tending to their crops, one day transplanting, the next walking on the rows to tidy them; elderly people playing croquet, children playing soccer; the occasional brave yell, "Hello!" and subsequent giggling as I pass by on my bike.

Biking in Japan is a thing unto itself, something that I feel it might be worthwhile to introduce.  Japan is a bike culture, lots of people do it and they do it in high heels and suits.  But it is different from the bike culture of Madison and perhaps of America in general.  Here, people generally bike on the sidewalk, no helmets, and speed is not in the forefront of their minds.  Everyone bikes–moms with several children in seats tucked into various places on their bikes, businessmen, well-dressed women.  I sometimes feel like a huge immature Humvee passing small elderly women.  Nearly every bike has a front and sometimes back basket which makes steering a bit unwieldy and passing a bit treacherous.   But luckily, nearly every bike has a bell.

Bikes are registered when you buy them and for about $30 you can get insurance for all repairs as well as coverage for a fair amount of the bike if it is stolen.  This registration can also be used against you if you park your bike somewhere that is forbidden.  Bike parking is quite particular–there are places you can do it and places you can't.  Sometimes there is a fee.  If you break the rules (i.e. you are foreign and clueless) you may be reprimanded with an strongly worded ticket.  I imagine that would be harsh if you could read it, but for one such as myself it is even more terrifying because I will be left to postulate the harshest language a Japanese policeman may be capable.  Right now that amounts to "Thank you."

In the areas where bike parking is sanctioned, there is nothing to which to lock your bike.  People just lock the frame to the wheel.  If someone had a large truck, a lot of audacity, and some means other than the Japanese-neglected Craigslist to sell them, they could make a killing.

bike parking in the HPAC garage

my bike, complete with basket, flip-on head lamp, bell, and blue lock;
also in this picture: the river, one of the baseball fields, and the bike path to the HPAC 

bikes in the parking space for my apartment building; example of the typical Japanese bike

a common bike lock attached to the frame which locks in the back wheel

Tonight the moon was large in the sky and the stars were out.  The sound of the friction from the front lamp has become one of the sounds that accompanies the crickets and cicadas.  I balanced between the focused beam of the light ahead of me, and the huge night sky, which seems to hold a million memories, made and still unformed.  So beautiful to be caught in this place.  Mindful and open.  Present and everywhere.  A unique space made of me and the universe.