I am what you would call a regular, everyday cyclist. I cycle pretty much everywhere – every day, but I’ve never owned a racing bike, a mountain bike or any of the likes. What I do own though, is an Omnium Cargo – or as I call it – my home away from home. And in the spring of 2025 I decided that it was time to take my home on the road and fulfill my lifelong dream of solo cycling the length of Japan – from south to north. A trip of more than 2500 km in a country consisting mostly of mountains and rivers. 

Lightweight Tornado

When people hear the story of my trip to Japan, the question I most often get is WHY I would choose to take this trip ON A CARGO BIKE. And I can really only say that I feel about my Omnium Cargo as Zorro – the masked avenger – feels about his horse Tornado. It is my companion, my accomplice, and actually my friend. 

However, to change the cargo from an everyday friend to a lightweight touring legend took a bit of tweaking. Luckily the Omnium team was there to help me out before I headed off on my adventure. 

My cargo is already titanium, meaning that it’s already pretty light, however there were a few things I could change to shed even more weight. It’s not major things, but we changed classic webbing to the Omnium Mesh Cover, exchanged the standard Omnium crankset for Sram Rival, and even trimmed the seatpost. In the mountains every gram counts, and with Japan being 70% mountains, these minor sounding things ended up making a major difference for me – especially mentally as I would have no one to blame when things got hard, not even the bike. 

On the very first day, I had planned a long stretch through the southern mountains of Kyushu, heading toward a remote Buddhist temple. I hadn’t trained much (*ahem* at all) before the trip, and in Denmark the steepest hill I usually climb takes maybe five minutes. This one went on for HOURS. Twenty-plus kilometres of switchbacks that made me question my sanity for even attempting it – and honestly, for even coming to Japan. Halfway up, exhausted, jetlagged, and alone, I started crying – and didn’t stop until I finally reached the top. But I never blamed the bike. The bike was ready, in the best shape it had ever been. Every modification we’d made back home mattered. It was me – my body – that was lacking. 

By the end of my trip, in the north, I faced a similar climb up a volcano. The bike was still ready, but this time so was I. I flew up like it was nothing, and cried again at the top, this time from joy. I was proud, not just of my legs, but of the change I’d felt along the way. From struggling so hard on day one, to now being in the best cycling shape of my life. The most striking thing was that the bike looked the exact same as it had on the very first day. It had been ready from the start. It was me who had to catch up with it.

To further equip the cargo for the mountains we had put on a smaller Absolute Black 40 tooth chainring and changed my old derailleur to the Sram GX to take an 11-46 cassette. The bike had been equipped with Supernova dynamos, which also turned out to be an absolute life saver.

A Door Opener

Going to Japan and cycling on my own was a daunting thing, and it would be a lie to say that I didn’t struggle with the thought of it before I went off. I decided to go on this trip alone because I wanted to face my own fears, and re-meet the feeling of being alone – and therefore also sometimes lonely. But to my surprise (and honestly a little bit of annoyance) I almost never got to feeling lonely. 

First of all, the Japanese are incredibly funny and earnest people, meaning that once I got in contact with someone, conversation flowed easily. And I didn’t even have to make the first move to get in contact with people – my bike did all the introductions for me. Riding a cargo bike through small towns was like travelling with a built-in icebreaker.

I had my picture taken with the most lovable elderly and children, with people on the rack, strangers on my bike and I have been invited into people’s stores, restaurants and homes. All because I’ve rolled into town or stopped at a red light on a, for others, funny looking bicycle. 

One evening, deep in the mountains of Honshu, I took cover from violent rain at a roadside station. I was sitting on a bench with my bike beside me, worrying about where to set up camp for the night, when a young guy walked up.

“What is this bike???” he asked. We started talking while he waited for his bus. I explained I was waiting for the rain to pass and was looking for somewhere to sleep. He looked shocked. “You cannot sleep outside here – what about the boars?!”

Being from Denmark, where the most dangerous animal is probably a mouse, I hadn’t exactly considered wild pigs. He started making calls and talking to other people at the station. A few minutes later, he came back: “Okay, I have called the municipality. You can sleep in the sumo ring by the training center.” Across the river stood a covered sumo ring, open-sided but dry. It was inside the fenced training grounds, safely out of reach of boars, and for that night, it became my campsite.

Word must have spread quickly, because soon half the town seemed to know. An elderly lady brought me strawberries. The local policeman stopped by to check on me (and take a photo of my passport, of course). In the morning, a couple appeared with a bag full of food and drinks for the road.

It is not to say that I wouldn’t have received the same kindness if I had been travelling on a regular touring bike – but everywhere I went on the cargo, it sparked a “What is this??” And in this case, without it, I would have missed the sumo ring, the strawberries, and the boar warning. Riding this bike is really a cheat code to unique experiences. And because of that I couldn’t have dreamed of a better touring companion than this.

The cargo brought me safely from south to north in Japan. Over mountains, along rivers, through remote towns and big cities. It carried me, my camping gear, and even the travel souvenirs that kept piling up along the way. 

I think the biggest reason I never really felt lonely on my trip to Japan was because I had brought my home along with me. 

Build Kit

Frame	Omnium Titanium Classic
Front Wheel	Contec Dynamo Hub + Spank Spoon28 20” rim
Rear Wheel	DT Swiss 240 hub + Spank BeadBite Oohbah 28” rim
Tires	Front: Maxxis DTH 38mm, Rear: Maxxis Refuse 40mm
Handlebars	ErgoTec 6
Grips	Omnium Foam Grips
Headseats	Omnium Headset
Crankset	Sram Rival
Chainring	Absolute Black Oval 40T
Bottom bracket	Sram GXP
Chain	KMC X11EL – Gold
Pedals	Omnium Platform Pedals
Cassette	Sunrace 11-46 11 spd
Derailleur	Sram GX
Brake levers	Shimano MT-501
Rotors	Shimano 160mm
Shifter	Sram GX
Saddle	Selle Italia Flite 1990 Titanium
Seatpost	Omnium Titanium ZO
Stem	Omnium LW 100mm
Top Cap	Stridsland Titanium Ride Slow Die Whenever Purple Bolt
Seatpost Clamp	Salsa Light Green
Frame Bags	Omnium Wedgie Bag Left Side
Accessory Bags	Omnium Stem Bag
Lights	Supernova Dynamo (E3 pure 3 + TL3 mini) + custom 3D-printed saddle mount made by my brother
Webbing	Omnium SL Mesh Cover

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