The last few days we had been riding through towns whose names had a clear hint of what was to come. Fujikawa. Fuji. Shin Fuji. Fujinomiya. Often shrouded by cloud, and completely hidden, but lucky for us and for the next two days, we had Mt Fuji as our riding backdrop, framed with crisp blue sky.
“Do you think we’ll see snow?” I said as we rode side by side. We had seen tiny flakes lightly falling in the evenings, but it would melt as soon as they hit the pavement, and the skies would be clear by morning. Our friends had been up in Hakuba, one of Japan’s popular ski areas, excitedly sending through pictures of skiing and snowboarding in white fluffy landscapes. I was hoping we would see at least some ground coverage.