There has always been a part of me that relishes the knowledge that more than likely I was the only one out there on a road bike that day. Even now as the weekend downpour shows no sign of letting up part of me wants to be outside.
Ginko trees (inchō・銀杏), along with momiji (紅葉) and persimmon (kaki・柿 – not to be confused with the other kaki meaning oyster) make for a staple of the Japanese autumn.
After I’d finished I sat waiting a couple of kilometres from where the festival was about to start at a michi-no-eki and I wondered why I hadn’t just jumped in the car with everyone else.
I went on a short bike ride this morning. The first in a few days. The pressure of last week
It’s been a while since I shot a roll of film on my Leica. It was browsing through the wonderful book of photographs of travels throughout Asia in the 1990s (and 1980s?) called Asia Grace by Kevin Kelly and John Sypal’s Zuisha (随写) that did it.
When you think of big Japanese cities I doubt that mountain biking comes to mind. But if you know where to look even in the major urban sprawls you’ll be able to find potential trails.
When you think of big Japanese cities I doubt that mountain biking comes to mind. But if you know where to look even in the major urban sprawls you’ll be able to find potential trails.
I began to understand that if I wished to continue chasing adventure, then just repeating the same types of expedition
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