troll

I’ve mentioned my father was also deaf and, like me, had a great love for the outdoors. He spent most of his youth hiking, campin...

While riding my bike (The Beaver) through an unknown town, my thoughts often wander, depending on the surrounding environment...

The clear blue sky stretched as far as I could see, as I sat on the terrace of the Nishiho Lodge in Nagano sipping a cold beer. S...

Waking up to the sound of the wind blowing in the trees, you stretch and squint towards the window as sun rays burst through ...

I enjoy books just as much as people who can hear, and I’m always throwing myself into the adventures found in their pages. One o...

White water and hot water often mind when people think of Minakami. From spring to fall a steady flow of helmet-wearing, paddle-w...

I was 4 years old the first time I laid my hands on a knife. It was a small ¥100 boxcutter which drew me in with its colorful dis...

It was late afternoon, and I was home swaying in my hammock, waiting for Taro Muraishi, this column’s editor. It was well past ou...

To a deaf person, the entire world is limited to that which falls in their field of vision. We often notice what is happening off...

My first bike trip came from a desire to see the overland horizon. I headed north to the great landscapes of Hokkaido where a sma...

The Bible for any bike trip in Japan is the guidebook “Touring Wave” by Shobunsha Publications. With detailed info on hot springs...

“What the…!?!” One moment you’re trudging through a snowfield and the next you run smack dab into a wall of snow. There aren’t su...