Interdependence

Note: This post was written in May of 2015 while I was living in Japan.

I'm on an elevated train leaving Tokyo. Surrounding me on all sides are young men and women, staring straight down, with one hand holding onto the safety circles that hang from the ceiling. Why, I wonder? Perhaps some kind of shame system developed during the rice paper wall period? Keep quiet because everyone can hear everything? No, they're just staring at their screens. Cell phones, tablets and handheld gaming devices occupy the palms of almost everyone. They glance up only to make sure they haven't missed their stop. The rest of the train's occupants are older, and they're asleep in their seats. A sign of the times, I suppose. And yet here I stand, phone and face in the same position as everyone else, getting things done with what little down time I have today. It's essential, this connectedness. One can shun the convenience of modern technology, run to their 'cabin in the woods' and get all Thoreau on us. But let's be honest, in order to succeed in society these days, one must swallow the proverbial pill. And that's alright.

You see, I've been “on the road” for more than a year now - travelling in my converted cargo van up and down the west coast of the United States, then travelling into Baja aboard my dual-sport motorcycle for more than a month, and now I’m traversing Asia, riding motorcycles, surfing and exploring for the next few months. This could not happen, however, without the availability of Internet. I am considered a journalist by most conventional standards. I participate, document and debate a range of subjects, centering primarily around surfing and adventure motorcycling. I am also a "social media manager," a job title new to the working world, and one that wouldn't exist if it weren't for the Internet. It is a job title that, unlike all of my previous employments within corporate America, allows me to wander aimlessly around the world, working whenever and wherever the Internet is available.

I peer over the shoulder of the person pressed against me - a young woman of ripe working age. She's typing feverishly in Facebook Messenger. Then she adds an image on Instagram and reads what I assume to be a blog post about some kind of beauty product, given the pictures. I, on the other hand, am hammering out a story I've been commissioned to write about the importance of the Internet, and how it allows me to travel freely and yet still maintain an income level at or above where I'd be if I were stuck Stateside. An hour later, I exit the train with what feels like eight hundred other people, take the escalator up, and make my way back to my friend's house in Fussa where I'll be staying for the next few months. Parked outside his front door is the motorcycle I've rented. Inside is the surfboard I've borrowed. And upstairs is my laptop, which, like a pair of pistols strapped to the side of some 20th century gunfighter, pays my bills. Without it, I'd be riding desks not dual-sports for the foreseeable future. I think Thoreau would understand.

The Plastic Camera Project

It happened at the Hard-Off, what the Japanese would call a thrift store, but what I would describe as a lightly-used shopping experience, where last year's Omega Submariner and DSLR cameras go to die. Or to find a new home if you're a frugal American looking for a steal. Anyhow. While browsing the used camera inventory, my eyes crossed paths with a bright blue plastic camera sitting on a shelf. Round1 was written atop the hot-shoe, and a price tag with a meager sum was siting beside it. Something like $10 when all was said and done. I had to have it. What the fuck it was, however, I had no idea.

Japan is notorious for gifts and gift giving, so when we discovered this was a prize someone might win at the local Round1 bowling alley, it all started to make sense. It came complete with cardboard box, filters, a flash and an instruction manual... in Japanese. I picked up a few rolls of cheap 35mm film and fired away. I took the camera to Italy a few months later where I covered the efforts of a few friends racing in the Sardegna Rally. After that it traveled with me on more than a few surf trips in Japan, to include a week long stay on the Izu Peninsula. Before departing Bousou Island, I entrusted my new toy to my friend Rabbitt. I instructed him to shoot a few rolls and share the shots. We'll see what happens. What follows, however, are a handful of photographs I took with the camera in Italy and elsewhere.

Yamaha Serow Solo Camp Touring

One minute of motorcycle riding followed by five minutes of camping and cooking shots?! If you've been to Japan, or live(d) there, this video will probably make perfect sense to you. During our time on The Island, a few things became clear: the Japanese love Yamaha's 225cc Serow (they even sell a special 'Touring Edition' complete with a windscreen and tail rack), and they curate their camping kit the way some people color coordinate their closet. Everything has its place, everything has its purpose. Like most things in Japan, camping - especially motorcycle camping - is taken very seriously. Yes, fun will be had, but it will be perfect fun. Cut and pasted from the pages of GO OUT magazine. Garb'd and gathered, overlooked and organized, and then cleaned thoroughly and put away neatly. I both fear this efficiency, this absence of expression, and simultaneously miss those moments when the girl at 7-11 quietly wrapped my pork bun in wax paper, and then bowed graciously as she handed it to me.

Bousou Island - Vol. 2

Maybe a month ago, we loaded the van and headed east across Tokyo Bay in search of a south swell. The spot, a place affectionately known as J-Bu, is located on the Chiba Peninsula and breaks, as you may have guessed, a lot like it's namesake in the States. I'd go into more detail, but I don't want the Yakuza taking any of my fingers for spilling the proverbial soy beans. So you'll have to settle for a few photos. What I can say is that the surf did not suck, and although it rained like a bitch, we managed to find solace in beer and some kind of weird Japanese baseball game show thingy. Stay tuned! Our Bousou Island adventure is not over.

Bousou Island - Vol.1

I suppose these photos are a long time coming, seeing as how we've been living in Japan since April... But we've been busy! A three week trip to Italy followed shortly thereafter by my hasty return to the United States for the annual Touratech Rally. And now, a week into the month of July, we're trapped indoors, anxiously awaiting a reprieve from the rain. Work takes up a lot of our time, as do the daily tasks associated with living somewhere. But that hasn't stopped us from surfing. And while the weather hasn't been the best, the waves haven't been bad...

The following photos were taken during a two week period prior to our Italian departure, and highlight two spots; Kashima and Shimoda. The first of which is a rather exposed beach break with cement tetra-pod jetties at either end. The later is a white sandy beach that allows slow rolling swells to break over an assortment of sandbars and, as Chris and I discovered, includes a rather awesome little left that wraps around a rocky outcropping at one end. Your ability to distinguish the difference between these two spots, especially in the attached images, will be almost impossible. Which is alright, because surfing is subjective. So who gives a shit when or where? It was fun, which is what matters.

Sushi Go-Round Dinner

We're currently living in Japan, riding motorcycles, surfing and eating at 7-11 as often as possible. It's an amazing place, but also an odd one. We've met some incredible people, surfed decent stuff, raced a 50cc Honda Super Cub in a three-hour endurance race, visited a robot restaurant, circumnavigated Mt. Fuji on dual-sport motorcycles, and explored hidden highways and abandoned villages outside of Tokyo with a trio of ex-pats. We just recently returned from a three-week trip to Italy in order to document the 2015 Sardegna Rally. While we were away, I had two rolls of 35mm film developed that I shot shortly after we arrived in Japan. Here's what happened next...

Closest Sea

Not to crack an egg before buying a frying pan... I can say that Kyra and I might be headed west in something like six weeks. WAY west... To a place I've always dreamed of visiting. Where we'll surf, ride motorcycles, drink whiskey and eat EVERYTHING! Stoked? You bet. Been browsing the intersphere for surf shit from that side of the sea. Found this fun little video shot by Tsukasa Tsujishima. Stay tuned!