Mt. Fuji Motorcycle Ride: Doshi Road, Bat Caves & Hidden Encounters
The Weather Window
With the sun shining on a crisp Monday morning, I glanced at the weather forecast—rain was looming for the next few days. Realizing today was my last shot at enjoying some open roads under blue skies, I woke up Nodoka, and we revved up our bikes, heading towards the iconic Mt. Fuji.
We hopped onto the highway near Kariba IC, entering what felt like a wormhole that rocketed us into the flow of traffic on the Tomei Highway. Emerging at Iseyama-Ohara IC, we took a moment to gather our bearings before snaking our way up to Miyagase Lake, eventually winding our way onto Doshi Road.
Doshi Road to the Fog of Mikuni Touge
As we cruised past an empty Doshi michi-no-eki (roadside station), the clouds began to roll in, casting a gray shroud over the landscape. Ignoring the sporadic drizzles, we pressed on, trusting our weather app that insisted the sun was still shining somewhere up ahead.
The ascent up 147/730 Mikuni Touge was an ill-fated idea; we plunged into a scene straight out of “The Mist”, where fog obscured everything but the road beneath our tires. Steering clear of the lurking “road demons,” we descended towards Fuji Speedway, where the warmth of the sun greeted us like an old friend.
“What a difference in weather,” Nodoka remarked, shaking off the chill in her mesh jacket.
Climbing Fuji Azami Line & Picking up a Stranger
Continuing our ride, we climbed the Fuji Azami Line, the sound of artillery echoing in the background as we ascended to 2,000 meters. Spotting a lone hiker trudging up the mountain with an oversized camera, I initially thought it was odd. But it soon clicked that he must have been capturing the breathtaking vistas from the hiking trails nearby.
Upon reaching the 5th station of Mt. Fuji, we snapped some photos, but Nodoka, feeling the bite of the cold through her mesh jacket, needed my hoodie to ward off the chill. It was time to head back down.
Descending carefully, I navigated the damp leaves littering the road, clear signs that fall had arrived. About halfway down, I spotted the same hiker, still making his way up. Pulling up alongside him, I offered a ride. His relief was palpable as he nodded gratefully.
Meet Heath from California, a Harley Davidson rider. I couldn’t resist teasing him, “Never heard of a Harley Davidson. Is that a British bike?”—but my voice was lost in the wind. Heath had missed the bus to the 5th station, opting to hike up rather than wait two hours for the next one.
After dropping Heath off at the 5th station, he snapped a photo of Nodoka and me in exchange for our help, and we bid him farewell. We then headed down the mountain, navigating the wet leaves once more, and stopped at Fuji Azami Michi-no-eki for some well-deserved udon.
Leather, Gelato & Grapes
Outside the michi-no-eki, stalls offered a variety of local goods. One leather artisan caught my attention—an inspiring female motorcyclist who rode a 1985 Honda Rebel. She had transitioned from a 9-5 job to pursue her dream, crafting leather Eneos key holders and cases for luxury car fobs. Her shop, “Alma Torero,” which translates to “soul bullfighter,” perfectly encapsulated the spirit of fighting for your passion rather than settling for a mundane existence.
We made two more stops before reaching Lake Saiko. First, we ducked into Milkland to escape the rain, treating ourselves to gelato and a fresh strawberry cream puff—an indulgent way to bide our time. Next, we visited a farm stand called Hitoana, where I snagged a batch of blueberries for ¥150, only to discover they were grapes!
Our final destination of the day was the Lake Saiko Bat Cave. For ¥350 each, we ventured along a short nature trail leading to a well-lit cave, a perfect habitat for bats, remaining a mild 10-12°C year-round. The staff assured us that while bats resided within, they would only emerge after hours, ensuring our safety during our visit.
The cave itself was spacious and accessible, featuring three routes—two adventurous red courses requiring some crouching, and a blue course that allowed for leisurely exploration. At one point, Nodoka and I squatted low to squeeze through a narrow passage, laughter mingling with the cool air.
On our ride home, we snapped photos of clouds rolling over Motosuko Lake. With fuel levels running low, I recalled my strategy: I’ve often found that when my gas gauge starts blinking ‘E’, I still have about 8 liters left. My bike’s tank holds 25 liters total, so I figured I could squeeze another 100 km from the remaining fuel, well within the 74 km to home.
As we navigated the darkness of Doshi, I opted for Route 16, a non-highway path with regular gas stations—far better than risking a breakdown on the highway.
Just 27 km from home, the rain began to fall, but we pressed on. The last leg on Hodogaya-bypass felt akin to a highway, and I crossed my fingers and toes, hoping I’d make it to my exit. Miraculously, I arrived at Kariba IC without a hitch, pulling into the gas station to fill up. To my surprise, I’d only used 22 liters. I had managed to ride about 64 km post-‘E’ blink. All in all, it looks like I could have gone another 100 km. I’ll just have to test that theory another day!
