Tiny Japanese fire trucks, explained

Wee Japanese fire trucks, as some Stateside auto enthusiasts have discovered, are adorably, I-wanna-pinch-your-cheeks tiny. Here’s one on the streets of Onomichi:

Japanese fire trucks: streets of Onomichi

Of course, something this different doesn’t exist in isolation; there are systemic differences between Japanese and American fire response that allow and even require smaller trucks.

There are more, but smaller, trucks. Japan has smaller, specialized fire and rescue trucks, whereas America chooses to have larger, generalist trucks. Nagata Shozo, a disaster mitigation administration professor at Kansai University, says in a recent NHK documentary (see ~5m in): “In other countries, you may see a single vehicle that combines firefighting and rescue equipment… in Japan, we have a tradition of specialization… We improve the vehicles’ specific uses and capabilities, and when it comes to dealing with emergency, vehicles with different special features are used in combination to tackle the situation.”

At many fire stations I saw vehicles parked nose-to-tail, with garage doors on both sides of the building. A peek inside the Mukojima Fire Station in eastern Tokyo shows a second set of doors behind perhaps a dozen vehicles, including conventional trucks and van-sized ambulances. That is much larger than my brand-new local fire station (Engine , Truck , Ambulance ), which has just five bays.

Japanese fire trucks: Mukojima Fire Station

Equally capable equipment is smaller. A ladder truck inside the Shiba Fire Station is about the size of a typical US fire truck. This station is surrounded by new high-rises along the waterfront just south of the Imperial Palace.

Japanese fire trucks: Shiba Fire Station vehicles at night

Compare that to a ladder truck in DC, whose service area only has buildings up to 130′ tall (40m). [Or, check out this short video of a Japanese truck visiting a downtown DC fire station.]

US fire trucks: DCFD Truck 16, SE DC

A NACTO/Volpe report from 2018 calls out ladder trucks in particular as being peculiarly over-sized: “Aerial ladder fire trucks used in major European and Asian cities can reach just as high, despite being only two-thirds as long and having only half of the turn radius as common American models.”

By the way, the Shiba station was huge, with eight ranks of vehicles and garage doors in front and back.

Japanese fire trucks: Shiba Fire Station

There are even smaller vehicles. Note the rescue motorcycle at the right edge of the garage at the Arakawa Fire Department, Otonashigawa Branch. There were even cargo bicycles parked behind it. These can reach medical situations quickly even in pedestrian zones, or after earthquakes when roads may not be clear. (Mukojima above also had motorcycles.)

Japanese fire trucks: Arakawa Fire Department, Otonashigawa Branch

Fire stations are more numerous, and often mixed-use. Shinjuku-gyoen and Shiba are 3 miles apart, and there are five other fire stations in between them – meaning about one station every half-mile. Central Tokyo is dense, but not absurdly so; these areas have the population density of Brooklyn or the Bronx, not Manhattan.

A downside of having so many fire stations is that the land footprint is extensive, but that’s mitigated by combining fire stations into mixed-use buildings. None of the urban fire stations I saw were single-story structures.

Japanese fire trucks: Shinjuku-gyoen and Shiba are 3 miles apart, with five stations between

This isn’t just in urban areas; it also means putting fire trucks in remote areas, like this one stationed at the Enryaku-ji temple complex atop Mount Hiei east of Kyoto:

Japanese fire trucks: Mount Hiei (Enryaku-ji)

The small trucks respond to historically narrow streets – and enable narrow streets into the future. These tiny fire trucks can fight fires and respond to medical emergencies even though Japanese streets are famously narrow (often 4m, sometimes narrower), and just as importantly they allow new streets to be narrow as well. Contrast that with the absolute narrowest street I can build in Raleigh, which is 6.7m wide (34% wider) and requires a 40′ long fire truck turnaround.

Whatever they’re doing, it works. Japan’s fire death rate is substantially below America’s, which is notable given that its cities have historically been even more fire-prone than US cities. America’s “era of great urban fires” was over a century ago; by then, Tokyo alone had seen 49 large-scale urban fires in the preceding two centuries.

More importantly, given that the death rate for car crashes in the US (128 per million) is about ten times higher than the fire death rate (13 per million), the narrow streets and slower speeds found in Japan contribute to a traffic death rate that’s 3/4 lower per capita and 2/3 lower per vehicle.

Further reading:

Bike overnights from D.C. through Maryland

Harpers Ferry in October

My recent five-day bike tour through the mountains whetted my appetite for quicker escapes into the same countryside. Luckily, the DC region sits astride the fall line, which puts a variety of topographies within reach. This makes it possible to do a bike overnight, or more ambitiously, a sub-24-hour outing (S24O).

On such a short trip, it’s important to ride enough miles to make the trip an accomplishment, but not so many as to be exhausted or to preclude any off-bike adventures. One key to doing so is to strictly limit the mileage spent biking down dangerous streets in traffic-choked suburbs, and to take advantage of trails — particularly easy-grade rail or riverfront trails.

One weekday-only trip that combines these, starting in the District, is a bike trip from Poolesville, Md. to Harpers Ferry, W. Va., returning via the C&O Canal towpath along the Potomac. This takes advantage of Montgomery County’s urban growth boundary, the area’s extensive rush-hour bus system, and the centuries-old Potomac path.

One recent day, I awoke at 5 AM to board a Red Line train at 6 AM, leaving the system at Shady Grove just as the morning bike ban started. From there, I waited a few minutes for RideOn route 76, which on weekday peak hours travels from Shady Grove through Kentlands, then deep into the Ag Reserve, and eventually ends in the rural town of Poolesville. Like all RideOn buses, the buses sport dual bike racks. Interestingly, the largest business in downtown Poolesville is a tractor supply store — the last place I expected to be able to take a city bus to.

The historic center of Poolesville, Maryland, just past the terminus of RideOn route 76.

Poolesville is famous among area cyclists as a jumping-off point for rides on country roads, but I wasn’t aware of any car-free routes to get there until I scrutinized WMATA’s regional bus maps.

From Poolesville, it was a quick 5 1/2 mile, downhill ride down Whites Ferry and Wasche Road to the Dickerson Conservation Park, and then onto the C&O. Harpers Ferry is another 22 miles upriver, not far past the railroad-centric town of Brunswick, Md. Equally charming Shepherdstown, W.Va. is another 13 miles upriver.

The main street of Brunswick, Maryland.

Lodging and camping options along the way are plentiful. Shepherdstown and Harpers Ferry offer numerous B&Bs and hostels, while the C&O has walk-in campgrounds every few miles along the trail plus six historic cabins available for nightly rentals.

The return bike trip is all downhill, and can be accomplished in one day: It’s 61 miles from Harpers Ferry to Georgetown, or 73 miles back from Shepherdstown. 13 miles can be shaved by hopping across the river at White’s Ferry and picking up the W&OD trail in Leesburg, which also has a charming downtown, and ending at the Silver Line. (Even with just Phase 1, Silver extends further than any of Metro’s rail lines.)

Another, 7-day-a-week transit option that I’ve used is Metrobus B30 — yes, the BWI bus. It, too, has bike racks just like every other Metrobus, but unlike other Metrobuses it travels beyond the Patuxent River and into metro Baltimore. (This option takes much longer than MARC, which may soon add a bike car to its Penn Line weekend trains.)

From the BWI light rail station, a cyclist can:

  • Board a Baltimore light rail train into the city, with its fantastic neighborhoods and Olmsted trails — or to Hunt Valley, about half a mile short of the Northern Central Rail Trail north to York;
  • Connect to several other buses, notably MTA’s buses to Annapolis or RTA’s buses through Howard and Anne Arundel counties;
  • Ride up alongside the tracks to the BWI Trail and follow the signs to the B&A Rail-Trail to Annapolis and the Chesapeake shore;
  • Walk through the BWI Amtrak station, then ride north on Ridge Road and through old downtown Elkridge (not much there) to the Patapsco Valley state park’s trails and thence to Ellicott City.

(That said, biking all the way to Baltimore or Annapolis is certainly feasible. I’ve used Brock Bridge Road for the former, and Governors Bridge Road for the latter, and enjoyed a relatively low-stress trip. Next up: Metrobus to Olney, then riding via Columbia and Catonsville to Baltimore.)

Someday, urban cyclists in DC will be able to easily slice past the sprawl aboard commuter trains. It’s possible today to bring bikes aboard VRE midday trains, which makes it possible to leave early on Friday and ride back from Manassas or Fredericksburg. Another option to consider is VRE halfway, then a ride through the farms to Charlottesville (from F’burg or Manassas).

The region’s weekday commuter buses might also prove useful, although they’re certainly not geared to weekending cyclists. Loudoun Transit runs to Purcellville, aka the western end of the W&OD Trail, and appears to allow bikes for pre-registered users. Maryland’s commuter buses cover a vast territory from Hagerstown to the Eastern Shore, but have no specific bike policy.