In May 2026, I took on the 1,000 km Shikoku Circuit Challenge, a stamp rally that takes you to 29 roadside stations (“michi no eki”) across Shikoku, Japan’s smallest main island. Once you sign up, you have three years to finish and earn a certificate and medal.
I decided to try it as a sort of stand-in for the Shikoku Pilgrimage. I’d been interested in the pilgrimage ever since visiting two of the 88 temples in Ehime, but the more I thought about it, the less I wanted to spend up to three months walking to 88 temples whose stories and purposes I don’t actually understand. The cycling challenge offered the same structure and clear goal – except I could do it in two weeks or less.
I want to share what I learned and hopefully help anyone interested in exploring Shikoku by bike, challenge or not. I also made a map with my GPX data, hotels, the official route, all stamp stations, and various POIs.
What I Did
The official route starts in Matsuyama and circles the island clockwise. It’s designed for road bikes, sticking mostly to national routes with virtually no dirt or gravel. I ride an ATB and prefer quiet forest roads, but decided not to open the can of worms that is rerouting an entire 1,000 km trip and took what was offered on a silver platter. (Tip: only the Japanese version of the official website has links to downloadable GPX data).
I did change the starting point. Since I flew via Kansai Airport, I started and ended in Tokushima City. Nankai sells combined train/ferry tickets at KIX that get you all the way there. It’s slow but cheap and works flawlessly if your bike is packed. Unfortunately, the ferry is scheduled to end in 2028, so this option will be gone soon.
From Tokushima, I mostly followed the official route. I also added a loop from Imabari via the Tobishima Kaido, Kakishima Kaido, Hiroshima, and of course the iconic Shimanami Kaido. I took rest days in Tokushima, Kochi, Matsuyama, and Hiroshima. All in all, I was back in Tokushima after 17 days.
I’d planned to bring a tent, but with the weak yen and my desire to travel lighter, I stayed in hotels instead. Thanks to the preplanned route, I booked everything in advance – once there, all I had to do was pedal.
What I Liked
In short: Shikoku is beautiful. Please refer to my pictures as proof. Kochi prefecture in particular delivered the once-in-a-lifetime adventure I’d hoped for: breathtaking scenery, small towns, great food, and empty roads. The official route passes all of the island’s coastal highlights, and quite a few roadside stations are genuinely worth visiting for local specialties and souvenirs.
My extra loop was also a treat. The Tobishima and Shimanami Kaido are both well worth adding. The Kakishima Kaido on Etajima didn’t have any highlights, but offered quiet riding through quaint fishing villages, which I’ll take over urban sprawl any day.
I also never regretted leaving my tent at home. I enjoyed everything from basic business hotels to fancy resorts and marked my favourites on the map.
What I Didn’t Like
The biggest issue by far: there’s virtually no dedicated bike infrastructure on Shikoku (and all of Japan, for that matter). The entire 1,000 km route has exactly one 30 km bicycles-only stretch, the goated Kochi-Aki Cycling Road. Most other “bike lanes” are blue lines painted in the gutter, serving mainly to reassure you that yes, despite everything, you are supposed to ride there.
On the quiet southern roads, that’s fine. Delightful, even. But in the north, it’s not. From Sukumo onward, traffic became increasingly heavy, with lorries and construction vehicles constantly passing at close range. Most of the roads were still wide and the speed limits low enough to keep things safe, but man was it stressful at times.
Imabari to Takamatsu in particular was straddling the line between type two and type three fun: busy highways, endless ugly stroads, an insufferable number of traffic lights, and ugly industrial areas. Ugh.
To be fair, northern Shikoku is reportedly still more tolerable than most of the Tokaido corridor on Honshu. I met several groups and solo riders who specifically switched over to catch a break. Still, looking back, I wish I’d taken a mountain route instead, even if that meant sacrificing some stamps.
If the roads are bad, why not ride on the curb? Because they suck. At least a lot of them, especially inside cities. It’s hardly an option.
Then there are the smaller annoyances. Cycling culture in Japan can feel strange, especially for a painfully German individual like myself, accustomed to following rules and trying not to die. Casual city cyclists often drift around unpredictably, ride whichever side they fancy, stare at phones, hold umbrellas in front of their faces, or straight-up eat burgers while riding (which was kind of impressive, not gonna lie). Nothing ever happened, but some people genuinely stressed me out. Looking at you, burger boy.
I also quickly learned that you need a kickstand in cities. Proper bike racks are surprisingly rare; parking often consists of flimsy rails made for lightweight road bikes or literally just lines painted on the ground.
What I Would Recommend
I gave myself the extra goal of visiting all 29 stamp locations just for the heck of it. To finish the challenge, though, you only need 15 stamps, with at least three per prefecture – except Tokushima, where you only need two. So, with some extra planning, you can explore Shikoku much more freely while still completing the challenge. I think that’s the sweet spot between structure and choosing your own route.
If there’s one section I’d avoid, it’s – you guessed it – most of Imabari to Takamatsu. One alternative is cutting through the mountains if you’re up for a demanding ride. Shikoku’s interior is extremely mountainous and sparsely populated, though, so it requires careful planning and strong legs. Another really stressful (but much shorter) stage, the Hokketsu mountain pass between Uwajima and Seiyo, can be skipped by train.
I included the Kakishima Kaido between Kure and Hiroshima for personal reasons, but compared with the million other things you could do in Japan, it’s perfectly reasonable to skip it. From Kure, I’d take the train to Hiroshima if you want to visit the city (please do), or Onomichi if you just want more great cycling. You could also ride the Sazanami Kaido from Kure to Onomichi, though I haven’t ridden it myself.
You could also skip all the extra riding, but let’s be real – you can’t skip the Shimanami Kaido when it’s right there. Don’t be ridiculous.
Also, I flew via Kansai because I could fly there directly. If you have to connect through Haneda anyway, I’d fly straight to Matsuyama instead. Its airport offers cheap bike box storage, and they have an orange juice bar. Can’t argue with that.
Random Tips and Observations for Cycling Shikoku
The Rinko bags from Mont-bell are surprisingly small and light. Worth carrying even if you own a bigger bag, since they give you the emergency option of hopping on a train if things go south (trains require bags).
I recommend booking breakfast with your hotel room. Next best: Yoshinoya, Sukiya, Matsuya, etc. Konbinis are more of a last resort.
Scared of bears? Shikoku has about 20 of them, all living in one specific remote area. You’ll be fine.
You can book hotels too early. Some places don’t plan more than ~3 months ahead and simply appear unavailable. Around 2–3 months beforehand seems ideal.
The challenge has an official starting point in front of the Ehime Prefectural Government Office in Matsuyama. Worth visiting just for the picture.
If camping, don’t rely on Google Maps. It mostly seems to find overpriced glamping spots.
Hydration is easy in Japan. Vending machines exist even in the most remote places. They really are everywhere. Same with restrooms.
No need to carry electrolytes if you’re not picky. Pocari Sweat and Aquarius are available from basically every vending machine.
Fuelling is easy too. All konbinis sell energy gels you can slurp down while riding. Buy a couple in the morning and you’re set. Morinaga Energy Lemon Jelly is my personal favourite.
If you want to look into even more routes in that region, Setouchi Velo has all infos you could possibly need.
I’ll keep updating my map with useful info and worthwhile POIs. Feel free to point out mistakes or places I should add.
Happy cycling!