The Honolulu Century Ride, held every year in Hawaii. Part 2 is event day — 100 miles across Oahu.
*Read Part 1 here ↓
text & photo / Tats（@tats_lovecyclist）
powered by Global Ride
0–40km
Up at 4:30. Out of the hotel by 5:20 to make the opening ceremony at 5:30.
The start is at Kapiolani Park, right along Waikiki Beach.
Riders are split into A/B/C groups by ability — and the lead A group is almost entirely Japanese. The opening remarks are delivered in both Japanese and English, a clear sign of how warmly Japanese riders are welcomed here.
Around 6 a.m., the countdown sends us off.
And the lead group is faster than expected. Trains form one after another, carrying us through the city at pace.
In the heat of it, teammate Saad gets carried away and surges off the front solo (a topic for the post-ride debrief). That’s how high the energy runs when you’re riding through a foreign city.
After blasting through the city, a properly steep climb appears. Legs already warm, the lead pack flicks up it without missing a beat.
Beyond that lies the newly added section overlooking Hanauma Bay. The view here is stunning — the highlight of the entire course. This isn’t a place to hammer through; it’s a place to ease off the pedals and soak it all in.
At the first aid station, fried donuts and fresh fruit were laid out. We took our time over breakfast with the morning sun rising behind Diamond Head.
Then, in a moment that felt distinctly Hawaiian, sprinklers placed around the aid station suddenly switched on, soaking the parked bikes one after another.
40–80km
Makapuʻu Point appears beyond another climb. The course continues all the way to the land on the far side of the sea…!
← Respect to the tandem riders | A film crew rides along →
Rolling through the jungle stretch
Traffic is heavy, but dedicated bike lanes line most of the route, making it surprisingly easy to ride
After the second aid station, we kept up a strong pace (still early enough to have the legs for it). Coastline, jungle, upscale residential neighborhoods — the scenery shifts so often within such a short distance that boredom never has a chance to set in.
Locals along the route wave us on, one after another
The Hawaiian islands are volcanic, so the mountains take on shapes you don’t see anywhere else. Riding past these unfamiliar ridgelines, the foreignness of it all really sinks in.
Saad speaks Japanese, but everyone kept addressing him in English.
The centerpiece of the back half of the course is Kamehameha Highway — a road that hugs the ocean so closely you can ride right alongside it. The color of the sea is staggering, the kind that pulls a sigh out of you without warning. It sounds obvious, but it’s the shade that finally makes you think, “I really am in Hawaii.”
The 80km turnaround point. We’d been pushing hard up to here, so we took a longer break to soak in the event atmosphere.
← Local kids playing on the court | Just being by the ocean is happiness →
80–120km
From here, we turn back. I’d planned to ease the pace on the return leg to soak in the local vibe — and almost on cue, a coffee wagon appeared (right when I was dying for a cup…!).
← Chatting with the staff over a milky, fragrant latte | A kid returns from playing on the beach →
“An unhurried rhythm” — the phrase fits this loose, easy space perfectly. And it’s not just here; all of Hawaii carries that same air.
Around a single coffee wagon, all kinds of stories weave together
The return basically retraces the outbound route, but here and there you’re guided onto different roads. Because the scenery shifts from what you saw on the way out, the ride stays fresh from start to finish (though fatigue creeps in steadily, so don’t push too hard).
Highly visible signs line the course, so there’s no risk of getting lost
120-160km
By the 120km mark, the fatigue was finally showing on my face. The aid stations alone don’t provide enough salty fuel, so I topped up with a burger from a convenience store along the way. With this kind of infrastructure scattered along the route, there’s no real fear of bonking.
Resting matters too.
← The 7-Eleven × 76 (Seventy-Six) collab feels refreshingly novel | Total elevation gain isn’t much, but the climbs near the end really get into your legs →
By the back half, the sight of an aid station sign is pure relief
Back in the city — just a little more to go
Spotting the start-line park — finally back!
Across the line, safe and sound! The staff cheered us in
100 miles done!
Made it back in one piece! Caught up in the rhythm of the saddle, 100 miles went by faster than I’d imagined. Traffic on the course is heavy overall, but the well-maintained bike lanes and the fact that cyclists don’t need to do a two-stage left turn show how genuinely the coexistence between cars and bikes has been built here — and it’s wonderful.
My one regret? Pushing too hard in the first half… but hey, when it feels good, you ride hard. That’s part of it too.
A world where every moment is equally precious
Letting my thoughts drift on the final night
Back at the hotel, freshened up, then out into Waikiki one more time. It was our last night, so we wandered into all kinds of places, leaving no regrets behind (including a few shops you couldn’t find back in Japan).
← ABC Stores, the convenience store you’ll find on every corner | You can’t help but convert everything back to yen… →
Cashless payment is so widespread here that I never once used cash during the entire stay. With just a smartphone, you can eat, shop, and even leave a tip anywhere — it’s incredibly convenient. With so many Japanese tourists around and no worries about safety, the whole trip felt at ease from start to finish. I get why so many people fall for Hawaii — and yes, I’m one of them now.
The next morning was free until noon, but thanks to me oversleeping spectacularly, we only managed to squeeze in a quick beach moment (lesson learned). Still, the wide-open, sun-soaked Waikiki Beach in broad daylight put everyone in a happy mood.
And after a nine-hour flight, we landed back at Haneda. A whirlwind trip wrapped up without a single hiccup.
What I felt most through the journey wasn’t fatigue — it was the preciousness of the time spent with others.
The buzz of anticipation in Kapiolani Park before sunrise, the sense of unity in exchanging greetings with riders from all over the world, the quiet rest stops sipping coffee alongside locals, the lively hum of tourists drifting through Waikiki at night.
Every one of these moments is part of the Honolulu Century Ride — essential threads that weave this event together.
The mornings full of laughter with the team, and the closing miles when fatigue made us go quiet, all equally precious.
Sharing “time and space” — something that can’t be measured in distance — that, to me, is what truly makes this event special.
The Honolulu Century Ride is no ordinary ride event. Every part of it sets the mind free. That’s probably why, even now, part of me is still in Hawaii. I hope we can ride it again as a team next year.
Team / Tats, Anna, & Saad
text & photo / Tats（@tats_lovecyclist）
powered by Global Ride
