(continued)
Around the Kawaguchiko area the roads were crowded with cars and tourists. As I slowly made my way to the lake, traffic was virtually gridlocked. Passing stopped cars on the left and moving towards the red light, suddenly I saw a rear door pop open on a van right in front of me. I wasn't going fast and immediately hit the brakes, but it was too close to stop. The door banged into the side of my handle bars and I went down. My arms caught most of the energy of the fall, but I still hit my lip against something. My right knee was bruised from the crash and my right index finger hurt, perhaps having been caught between the right hood and the door. I tasted blood in my mouth.
The driver and his two female passengers got out of the car, apologized and offered me tissues for the blood. I checked my myself in the car mirror, looked over my body and checked the bike. It looked like nothing was broken. I didn't really feel like the hassle of calling the police to file an accident report, which would cost me an hour or so of cycling time. The passenger who had opened the door without looking probably learnt her lesson. So I told them I was going to be OK and we parted. I didn't even ask for a business card or phone number.
Slowly I continued at the side of the road towards the lake. Then when I stopped once to cross a road as a pedestrian, I noticed I had difficulties uncleating the right shoe. One of the two screws that normally holds the cleat in place had gone absent without leave, so the cleat no longer disengaged when turning the foot outside. I decided a cleat that never disengaged was a bigger safety risk than one that doesn't engage, got out the multi-tool and took off the other screw too. The shoe did not stay in place very easily, as the SPD pedal is small and its steel surface is slippery.
It was too cloudy to get a good view of Mt Fuji. This view across Kawaguchiko is about the best I managed:
As my foot kept slipping off the pedal and I still had 80 km to go to Odawara, my planned destination, I thought of possible fixes. In the end, I used a short section of cut inner tube that I carry to strap things to the bike, slung it through the holes in the pedal and tied some knots in it. The rubber added enough friction that the pedal became a lot more usable again. On I cycled past Yamanakako and past this unusual place:
It got dark as I descended on the Gotemba side. Basically the whole road from Fujiyoshida to Gotemba was one big traffic jam. Wary of car doors that could open any moment, I still passed many of them:
In Odawara I got on the last car of a train to Shinjuku which was almost empty since it was late in the day, set my alarm a little before arrival at my local station and managed a bit of a nap. I got home about 17 hours after I'd left, took a shower and went to bed
