The leaves feel like Pacific Northwest powder under my tires. Soft enough to drift the back end in a playful slash, but firm enough to create traction atop the slick, clay-rich soil below.

The morning sun shines brightly through the open natural hardwood forest—called Satoyama—an endemic demarcation between wilderness and human settlement. Wide tree spacing and a naturally manicured forest floor allows space for creativity and playfulness among the rolling detritus. Dropping off the ridge, the forest changes character with arrow-straight trunks of artificially planted Japanese cedar anchored in wide banks of loam so dark that it consumes any remaining light penetrating the dense canopy like a black hole.

In line with the vast majority of Japan’s non-bike park trails, this gem is not on any map, app, or website. The tightlipped riding community on Honshu—the largest of Japan’s four main islands—vets the riders they share their secrets with, and makes sure guests adhere to proper etiquette: Watch for hikers around corners, don’t skid, and leave no trace of the ride on social media.