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"SAVAGE-650" Saw Dangerous America
It is said that America is a dangerous country. In fact, not a few people are being killed on account of money and love affairs every day in the States. Recently, the news that a young Japanese man was shot to death due to the fact that he didn't understand the word "Freeze!" frightened the Japanese who are usually indifferent to anything but money. 15 years ago downtown Los Angeles was wild and messy. On my second visit the city gave me a stranger feeling than before. I know America is not as safe as Japan. Yet I wanted to make sure to what degree America had become dangerous. I had some uneasy feelings about the trip, even though I had already traveled to many places in the world. In addition, the trip would be by motorcycle. I asked an American, "Is America really dangerous?" He replied, "Do you really believe the mass-media, Toru?" Surely, they make a business out of overstatement. If a man bites a dog, it becomes news. What rarely happens only can be big news. People are in eager pursuit of extraordinary news. For, day-to-day slavery labor brings everlasting starvation to their minds. Compared to other Japanese, I have little faith in American foreign policy. It was America that continuously brought war to the world after World War Ⅱ. Power and money are never justice. Yet, I know America has at least one respectable man.
SUZUKI Savage-650
Michael and his son, Joshua
Yosemite National Park, California
Michael was an authentic hippie and now he is a medical practitioner in America. As a medical volunteer he visited Nicaragua and devoted his young days to the reconstruction of the country, which Reagan destroyed as a result of wiping out the antagonists of the Contra. I am basically anti-American, but on the other hand I respect the America who gave birth to a great man like Michael. This Michael became ill. Last year, escaping from Japan during the rainy season, I visited California where Michael lives. He had a very tight schedule, but he helped me get a bike for my trip. The bike I finally bought was a Suzuki Savage-650. On the wine-red bike with a big single 650 cc engine I traveled around five national parks in the Cascade Range and the Sierra Nevada, carrying a tent and a sleeping bag. In the coastal area of the Western part of the USA., there are lots of good campgrounds.
They are found in the midst of nature. You feel lonely sleeping in a tent in those spacious places. Because people say that things are often stolen, I carried a motorcycle lock from Japan. But it was hardly necessary. Stealing seems to occur very seldom in campgrounds. Even a man who commits a crime in a crowded city might recover pure heart, once he is embraced by nature. The district around here is deserted and extremely peaceful. It is a world completely different from the big cities of America, where crimes are frequent. It is safe and even a trace of crime can't be detected. The town where Michael lives is also comfortable and peaceful. I met Michael again after 10 years and asked him, "Where is the poor and dangerous America?" A city in America is like a detached island in a vast ocean. Leaving the city, one may find the surrounding area totally controlled by nature. In a place like this on the west coast of America, there are lots of campgrounds, and in most cases they have really good facilities.
Road running through between the trees in the Cascade Range
Campground along US-101
Campgrounds are also found in many places near beautiful beaches and in redwood forests, the tallest trees in the world. The camping fee is almost the same as in Japan, but the facilities are incomparably better. However, the facilities of Japanese campgrounds have been greatly improved, when compared to the old days. The other day I made a trip to Kawayu Spa in Kii Peninsula. For the first time in my life I saw a toilet as clean as that of a first-class hotel. Even in this campground I didn't find a shower room. Among the campgrounds the Savage-650 visited in California and Oregon, only one campground didn't have a shower room. It was a State-owned campground, which is located at the foot of Mt. Whitney at the southern end of the Sierra Nevada. Probably because it is not a commercial campground, or because it is located in a deserted area, the campground didn't have any equipment. An iron pole stands at the gate. Campers are requested to fill the form with their tent site and license number and to put it into the pole together with the fee of $10. I thought it was a typical example of unfaithful, lazy management by bureaucracy.
Yet, at dusk a decent lady forest ranger came to my tent. I imagined, "She came for money?", but she asked, "Do you have any food?" ???... Not understanding her words, I handed out bread and juice. She said, "It's dangerous and not allowed." ???... Before coming to this campground, a man whom I met on the Pacific coast of Oregon said, "Don't ride on full-moon nights. Deer come out and often cause traffic accidents." I am not worried about accidents with deer. If you are in a deer country, it's best not to ride at night. Without any reason, deer don't attack people. Yet, the situation is different in this place. Surprisingly enough, bears wonder around looking for food every night. The ranger said to me, "Hang your food on a high branch so that bears can't reach, or ask somebody to keep your food in a car. If you can't do that, I will keep the food until tomorrow morning." She said that bears attack campers in the tents, while looking for food. So she collects all the waste in the campground at 9 in the evening. Why 9 o'clock at night? It's already pitch dark at 9 in Japan. But in California it's still bright thanks to Daylight Saving Time. At 9:09 a truck really came to collect garbage. The story about bears mustn't be a joke, but true. This place may really be a world of the horror film "Grizzly".
Mt. Whitney, with an elevation of 4,000 m, is the highest mountain in the States outside Alaska.
Our campground was at the foot of the mountain and the subtle sound of a river could be heard through the tall trees. Judging from the situation, the place probably had bears. After ten o'clock everyone in the campground was sound asleep. Three cans of beer changed into urine, however, the toilet was 20 m away from the tent. The fear of the bears got rid of the desire for urination and soon I fell asleep. Probably at around three in the morning, I was awoken by noises in the campground. I felt something unusual was happening. I heard shouts here and there. Car headlights brightened the campground. What's happening? Have the bears really come out? "Oh, my God! Oh, my Buddha!!" ...Yet, too sleepy! Drowsiness drove fear of the bears away. The next morning, the ranger walked up to me and said, "Good morning. Last night, bears came out as usual and searched an icebox for food. Campgrounds in America can be more dangerous than New York.
Mt. Whitney