Speaker 1: Causer Media. You're listening to the Away Days podcast on
Speaker 1: the ground outside reporting from the underbelly with me Jake Hanrahan.
Speaker 1: To watch Awaydays documentaries, go to YouTube dot com slash
Speaker 1: at Away Days TV. This is part three Speed Tribe
Speaker 1: twenty five, Episode two. This podcast is a production of
Speaker 1: H eleven Studio and Call Zone Media, Osaka. At night,
Speaker 1: the city is lit up like an led Christmas tree.
Speaker 1: Small street stools and larger family restaurants keep each side,
Speaker 1: street and back alley busy. The sound of drinking, conversation
Speaker 1: and cash red at every corner. There's something to spend
Speaker 1: money on if you want to. Vending machines, hole in
Speaker 1: the wall, bars and red light private clubs. Large halogen
Speaker 1: bulbs light up garish advertisements on every square foot of
Speaker 1: free space. We're in a blue collar district where no
Speaker 1: one takes card and everyone is sick of the inflation.
Speaker 1: I'm on my way to meet with the head of
Speaker 1: a Canjo racing crew to negotiate access. I want to
Speaker 1: film a real multi car civic race on the loop,
Speaker 1: not just a few here and there, A proper race.
Speaker 1: I've been told one is planned soon, and I want
Speaker 1: in You can't understand the culture behind all of this
Speaker 1: properly if you don't see it firsthand. I don't think
Speaker 1: so anyway, Yes, I get it. It's dangerous, but it
Speaker 1: is what it is. We get to the location this
Speaker 1: is where the Kanjo crew told us to meet, and
Speaker 1: with two guys from my team and John, who's still
Speaker 1: helping us negotiate this clandestine world of illegal street racing.
Speaker 1: The location is a really cool independent Korean restaurant. It's busy, cluttered, perfect.
Speaker 1: Just as we get to a table, the Kanjo crew arrives.
Speaker 1: Now I can't go into too many details due to
Speaker 1: various legalities, but it's a small crew of four or
Speaker 1: five people. The boss man stands out for his size.
Speaker 1: He's about six foot two and built like a brick shitouse,
Speaker 1: an unusual frame in downtown Asaka. His number two is
Speaker 1: a skinny chainsmoking mechanic with greasy hair and a crooked smile.
Speaker 1: The others are quiet and unassuming. Everyone is dressed in
Speaker 1: an assortment of trendy Japanese streetwear. The boss man greets
Speaker 1: us with a firm handshake and we exchange pleasantries. I'm
Speaker 1: eager to give him the present are boring. In Japan,
Speaker 1: bringing gifts of people is an important tradition. It's rooted
Speaker 1: in the country's strong etiquete culture. It's not just about
Speaker 1: giving a present, it's kind of a ritual. It shows respect, gratitude,
Speaker 1: and the careful maintenance of relationships. Presentation is key. Wrapping
Speaker 1: is considered almost as important as the gift itself. I
Speaker 1: wish I had known that. There's apparently an art to it.
Speaker 1: Handing over a nicely wrapped box with both hands and
Speaker 1: a bow tied on top shows proper etiquet. When visiting
Speaker 1: someone's home, bringing a small gift is standard, even if
Speaker 1: it's just snacks or a souvenir from your hometown. And
Speaker 1: when someone gives you a gift, you're generally expected to
Speaker 1: return the favor later, sometimes with a return gift known
Speaker 1: as okashi, often worth half the value of the original present.
Speaker 1: There are unspoken rules to this. Importantly, gifts are usually
Speaker 1: given modestly. You don't open them in front of the
Speaker 1: giver unless invited to. Doing so might be seen as greedy.
Speaker 1: Lavish gifts can make people feel uncomfortable or feel obliged,
Speaker 1: so everyone keeps it simple now. Japanese gifting isn't about
Speaker 1: the object. It's about maintaining balance, recognizing relationships, and expressing
Speaker 1: thoughtfulness in a way that keeps the social fabric smooth
Speaker 1: and intact. Now, with all this in mind, my contact
Speaker 1: in Japan told me to bring some gifts before we arrived. Obviously,
Speaker 1: I want to respect the customs of the country. Generally,
Speaker 1: I do that anyway if I'm going somewhere. It's been
Speaker 1: taught to me in my family. You bring gifts to
Speaker 1: new people that you meet. That's just how it is. Obviously,
Speaker 1: I was not going to turn up empty handed, so
Speaker 1: I asked the contact, what the hell do I bring
Speaker 1: as a gift to illegal street racing petrol heads in
Speaker 1: the gritty suburbs of a Sakka. His response, Max Power magazine.
Speaker 1: I laughed, but he was serious. It's the perfect gift
Speaker 1: for a brit to bring if you're interested in kanjo zoku,
Speaker 1: he told me. Growing up, I remember seeing Max Power
Speaker 1: on the shelves of every news agent in Britain. It
Speaker 1: was a monthly car magazine. Launched in May nineteen ninety three,
Speaker 1: Max Power quickly became the go to publication for what
Speaker 1: was then a rapidly growing buoy at racer culture. In
Speaker 1: the UK, the peak circulation around two hundred and forty
Speaker 1: thousand copies of Max Power was sold every single month.
Speaker 1: In its early years, Max Power showcased modifications such as
Speaker 1: engine swaps, body kits and huge wheel conversions, not too
Speaker 1: far from what the Canjo race is here in Asaka
Speaker 1: Get up to Now, And like the model Civics themselves,
Speaker 1: the visual esthetic of Max Power was very much in
Speaker 1: your face. I wasn't remotely interested in cars back then
Speaker 1: when it was on sale in the UK, but the
Speaker 1: magazine's style would always catch my eye. I remember it.
Speaker 1: I think probably everybody else does. What made Max Power
Speaker 1: unique was its indulgence in car culture contra reversy. The
Speaker 1: magazine would often have coverage of illegal cruise events and
Speaker 1: public burnouts. This drew criticism from police and safety advocates,
Speaker 1: but it also sealed the magazine's notoriety in the underground.
Speaker 1: Despite the haters, Max Power played an outsized role in
Speaker 1: shape and a community and industry tuning shops, aftermarket suppliers,
Speaker 1: custom showers the lot. Reflecting on its cultural legacy, the
Speaker 1: former Max Power editor described this era as a uniquely
Speaker 1: vibrant British car subculture. It wasn't just about horsepower. It
Speaker 1: was about mass individuality, diy creativity and youthful defiance. Now
Speaker 1: surely that rings a bell. The Max Power aligned world
Speaker 1: of British car culture mirrored some aspects of Japan's Kanjo zoku.
Speaker 1: John tells me that racers would even import the magazine
Speaker 1: in English, even if they couldn't read the articles. So
Speaker 1: me to bring over a stack of old Max Power issues.
Speaker 1: I got a load off eBay for about thirty quid
Speaker 1: and stuffed them into my suitcase. Now Here I am
Speaker 1: in Osaka with them all sat in a plastic carrier
Speaker 1: bag as a gift for what is the boss of
Speaker 1: a notorious Kanjo crew in Japan. Suddenly it doesn't feel
Speaker 1: like the good idea it did when I was back home.
Speaker 1: Either way, Once we're all seated, I hand the stack
Speaker 1: of magazines over and we explain the gift. The boss
Speaker 1: band holds them in his hands, briefly looks at the
Speaker 1: first issue on the pile, and hands them off to
Speaker 1: his chainsmoking sidekick. He doesn't even look at them. Neither
Speaker 1: of them are remotely interested. I look at John like
Speaker 1: what the fuck? John shrugs at me and orders a
Speaker 1: round of pints for the table. I can't go into
Speaker 1: exactly what was said at this meeting, but we all
Speaker 1: eventually get chatting about Kanjo. I explain what we're trying
Speaker 1: to do with the award As project, and the boss
Speaker 1: Man likes it a lot. After he gets a little
Speaker 1: more comfortable, he makes a comment about some visible tattoos
Speaker 1: me and one of my guys have on our arms.
Speaker 1: He says he likes them. He grins. This is a
Speaker 1: bit unusual, as tattoos in Japan are seen very differently
Speaker 1: to how they are in the West. Here in Japan,
Speaker 1: there's a complicated and often negative stigma attached to them. Historically,
Speaker 1: they've been associated with criminality, particularly the Yakuza, Japan's most
Speaker 1: notorious organized crime syndicate. Full body tattoos called irazumi, were
Speaker 1: used by Yakuza gang members as a sign of loyalty
Speaker 1: and defiance, making them a visual marker of the underworld.
Speaker 1: Because of this, many public places like bath houses, swimming pools,
Speaker 1: and even weights gyms still ban visible tattoos to this day.
Speaker 1: The perception is gradually shifting, but there is still very
Speaker 1: much an uneasiness about people with tattoos in Japanese culture. So,
Speaker 1: considering the boss Man's comment about our tattoos, I ask
Speaker 1: him if he has any. Honestly, I might half joking
Speaker 1: when I say this, but he nods, looks me right
Speaker 1: in the eye, and rolls up both of his sleeves.
Speaker 1: Traditional irizumi tattoos completely cover his ants your cusa. Suddenly,
Speaker 1: the secrecy of some of this scene begins to take
Speaker 1: on another purpose. I get it some level of organized
Speaker 1: crime is involved with some of these teams, not all
Speaker 1: of them, not the majority, but it's there. The boss
Speaker 1: Man's friends suddenly feel like a bit of an entourage.
Speaker 1: None of them even blink when he pulls out the tats.
Speaker 1: I guess is they all have something similar? Wow? Nice,
Speaker 1: I say. The boss Man grins again, pulls down his sleeves,
Speaker 1: and orders Korean barbecue for all of us. He loosens,
Speaker 1: and after we eat, for some reason, he pulls out
Speaker 1: a little tool he has attached to a set of
Speaker 1: his keys and fiddles with it for ages. It's a small,
Speaker 1: but sharp, spring loaded metal spike, like a flick knife,
Speaker 1: but it's a spike, not a blade. It's hardly a
Speaker 1: massively serious weapon, but if you stuck it in your neck,
Speaker 1: I dare say you'd know about it. Seems an unusual
Speaker 1: thing just to whip out at the table, but what
Speaker 1: do I not. At the end of the night, we're
Speaker 1: all getting on great and the boss Man takes us
Speaker 1: to see his cat. I can't even tell you what
Speaker 1: it is, specifically to protect his identity, but it is
Speaker 1: a very very nice and very unique Conde civic. Let's
Speaker 1: just say that he agrees that we'll join him and
Speaker 1: his crew on the Candor Loop late one night this week.
Speaker 1: Perfect he even gives us a gift. He takes his
Speaker 1: little stabber off his keys and hands it to one
Speaker 1: of our team Max Power magazines for a little keyring
Speaker 1: stabber Yakuza weapon. Not a bad exchange at all. A
Speaker 1: few days past and we've heard absolutely nothing from the
Speaker 1: boss Man. Honestly, I'm regutted. He seemed completely genuine about
Speaker 1: the access and rapport we'd built with them. None of
Speaker 1: us really give a shit that he's Yakuza. The whole
Speaker 1: world runs on crime, after all. Some of it's just
Speaker 1: legal because governments do it. It seems unlikely that he
Speaker 1: suddenly got cold feet, as if we'd inform on him
Speaker 1: or something. But here we are, and so we take
Speaker 1: up the famous journalists past time. Of waiting around, we
Speaker 1: spend the day enjoying a Saka. We rented a tiny
Speaker 1: house in an area we're told is quote unquote kind
Speaker 1: of the hood. It doesn't feel like that. Though the
Speaker 1: streets are clean, everyone is nice, and crime is largely
Speaker 1: non existent. People don't even change their push bikes up here.
Speaker 1: Each day we go to this little family run cafe
Speaker 1: near the house and we order eggs on toast and
Speaker 1: black coffee. The family there get used to us, and
Speaker 1: we communicate through Google Translate. Tinny Midi style music plays
Speaker 1: in the background from a tape. Every space on the
Speaker 1: wall is covered with something unique and homely. It's one
Speaker 1: of the calmest places I think I've ever been to
Speaker 1: in my entire life. I love it here in the cafe,
Speaker 1: in the Nishinari ward. It is the total opposite of
Speaker 1: the high octane madness of the Osaka street racers. The
Speaker 1: next day there's news there's a reason the boss man
Speaker 1: we met with recently has ghosted us. He's been arrested.
Speaker 1: Nothing to do with racing, not from what we're told,
Speaker 1: at least he was taken in on weapons charges, not
Speaker 1: because of his spring loaded spike, but apparently firearms in
Speaker 1: Japan that is a very big deal. A legal guns
Speaker 1: in Japan are exceptionally rare. The country has some of
Speaker 1: the strictest firearm laws in the world, and as a result,
Speaker 1: gun crime is almost non existent. In an average year,
Speaker 1: the number of shootings across the entire country can usually
Speaker 1: be counted on one hand. Most Japanese citizens will go
Speaker 1: their entire lives without ever even seeing a real firearm
Speaker 1: or even hearing gunshots. Even the yakuza tend to avoid
Speaker 1: using guns because the legal consequences are extremely harsh and
Speaker 1: police raids into their businesses become extremely relentless. Japan's firearm
Speaker 1: and sword possession control laws strictly limits gun ownership to
Speaker 1: shotguns and air rifles under tight regulation. Even those require
Speaker 1: a lengthy licensing process, including written tests, mental health evaluations,
Speaker 1: background checks, and regular police inspections. Handguns are completely banned
Speaker 1: for civilians forget about it. The general public is culturally
Speaker 1: and legally distanced from firearms at all times, and gun
Speaker 1: ownership carries a significant social stigma. If you're call in
Speaker 1: possession of an illegal firearm in Japan. To put it bluntly,
Speaker 1: you are fucked deep trouble. You're potentially looking at ten
Speaker 1: years in prison. Sentencing gets harshit if the gun was
Speaker 1: used in the commission of a crime or is linked
Speaker 1: to organized crime. I hope, for the boss Man's sake,
Speaker 1: he was just collecting somehow, though I doubt it either way.
Speaker 1: Needless to say, we will not be seeing him for
Speaker 1: a while. Even just owning bullets without a gun can
Speaker 1: lead to prison time in Japan, and the judges rarely
Speaker 1: show leniency to anything. Japanese police also have the power
Speaker 1: to investigate aggressively when it comes to gun related offenses.
Speaker 1: As I said, it's raids, surveillance and forensic checks. All
Speaker 1: this is common. People generally do not mess around with guns.
Speaker 1: The system is so airtight that even Japan's underworld mostly
Speaker 1: steer clear of them. So what has happened with the
Speaker 1: boss Man is completely beyond me. If I had to guess,
Speaker 1: seen as he was pretty young and trendy but also
Speaker 1: involved in organized crime. Maybe he wanted a gone just
Speaker 1: for status. I don't know, though. The whole thing is
Speaker 1: a bit mad, so as you can imagine, our contacts
Speaker 1: in this race, crew went cold for now anyway. Luckily
Speaker 1: for us, Kanjo Zoku is not the only street racing
Speaker 1: counterculture here in Japan. Far from it, John happens to
Speaker 1: have contacts with a very different style of underground racing.
Speaker 1: One night, he randomly calls ahead and tells us we're
Speaker 1: going to the outskirts of a Saka. It's about an
Speaker 1: hour's drive away to a smaller town where the mountains
Speaker 1: and nearby. He comes to pick us up in his
Speaker 1: honestly immaculate civic and tells us we're going on a
Speaker 1: drive potentially into the world of toga. To understand the
Speaker 1: Japanese togay scene, you've got to picture the country's spine.
Speaker 1: The winding mountain passes, cutting through dense forests, blurry ridgelines,
Speaker 1: and treacherous switchbacks where visibility often drops to zero. These
Speaker 1: are the backbones of rural Japan. Originally the land of farmers, villagers,
Speaker 1: and monks, but by the late eighties and nineties they
Speaker 1: became the battleground for a specific breed of underground petrol head,
Speaker 1: the Togay races. This is not a fast and furious
Speaker 1: style drag racing scene. This is something much quieter hidden.
Speaker 1: The Togay is onder wraps and is incredibly risky, a
Speaker 1: dance between man, machine and nature. These drivers drift or
Speaker 1: grip their cars down narrow mountain roads at full speed,
Speaker 1: with drops of certain death just feet over the fence line.
Speaker 1: One wrong move and the Togay cars are flying into
Speaker 1: a jagged rock ravine. There is almost no chance of survival.
Speaker 1: This all started when the big city boys of Tokyo
Speaker 1: raised on the Wangang expressways and toll roads around Tokyo Bay.
Speaker 1: The rural and suburban kids had to get their own
Speaker 1: thing going. With no money for track days or toll roads,
Speaker 1: they looked to the mountain passes nearby. These winding roads
Speaker 1: were free, isolated and perfect for testing cornering skills, and
Speaker 1: so togo racing was born. Not necessarily to see who
Speaker 1: was faster in a straight line, but who had the
Speaker 1: precision and the guts to thread the needle through tight
Speaker 1: mountain bends at terrifying speeds. Also, the philosophy was different.
Speaker 1: This was not about octane and speed. This was about rhythm,
Speaker 1: flow and keeping your composure. There is no central Togay organization,
Speaker 1: no league, no official hierarchy. It's different to canjo in
Speaker 1: that respect. Small circles of trust among drivers keep the
Speaker 1: scene active in the underground. In toga, you have to
Speaker 1: prove yourself before you're even allowed to race on the
Speaker 1: mountain pass. Not with money or care or gear, but
Speaker 1: with consistency and commitment. Everyone knows the risks. A crash
Speaker 1: in Togai is worse than a bent bumper or smashed windows.
Speaker 1: If you fuck up here, you're rolling down a mountain
Speaker 1: or slamming into a wall with no ambulances or hospitals
Speaker 1: for miles around. Most Togay races happen in the dead
Speaker 1: of night, no traffic, no witnesses, fewer cops. Walkie talkies,
Speaker 1: burner phones, and encrypted apps are used to coordinate. A
Speaker 1: century is placed at the top and bottom of the
Speaker 1: course to warn if police or other vehicles are coming.
Speaker 1: Some teams even use spotters half way along the route
Speaker 1: with torches or laser pens to signal potential has The
Speaker 1: roads are never really uniform. You can't exactly get used
Speaker 1: to the feel of the road like you can with kanjo.
Speaker 1: Some Togay runs are type technical, full of hairpins and
Speaker 1: steep descents. Others, like the gun passes have more flow
Speaker 1: and open corners, but all are narrow, blind and very dangerous.
Speaker 1: Within the togay scene that there's a clear ideological split
Speaker 1: the grip drivers versus the drifters. Generally, it's seen that
Speaker 1: both come under the same umbrella of togai. Grip racers
Speaker 1: believe in maximum traction, perfect apexes, and precision driving. Always
Speaker 1: their goal is to maintain speed through corners using racing lines,
Speaker 1: breaking points, and tire grip. These guys are usually quiet, disciplined,
Speaker 1: methodical drifters, on the other hand, are all about style
Speaker 1: and control in chaos. They throw the rear end out
Speaker 1: into corners, intentionally breaking traction but keeping control through throttle
Speaker 1: steering and counter steering techniques. It's actually not always the
Speaker 1: fastest way through a corner, but it is definitely the
Speaker 1: coolest way to do it, and to the drifting contingent
Speaker 1: of togai, they feel it's the purest the truth. Many
Speaker 1: togay racers do both. They can grip when they need
Speaker 1: to win and drift when they want to show off
Speaker 1: the best affluent in both dialects of speed. It can
Speaker 1: even be argued that toga is just the place and
Speaker 1: the whole scene, but both are interchangeable. Now, togay cars
Speaker 1: are nothing like the quarter mile drag racing machines you
Speaker 1: might see in places like America. The Japanese counterparts are light,
Speaker 1: nimble and built for twisting roads. Weight reduction is key.
Speaker 1: Like they can racing drivers got the interior, remove rear seats,
Speaker 1: spare tires, and sometimes even replace the doors and bonnets
Speaker 1: with fiberglass or carbon fiber. Popular choices of cars for
Speaker 1: racing on Toge include Toyota A E eighty six, the
Speaker 1: Mazda RX seven, the Nissan Silvia, the Honda Civic and
Speaker 1: Integra type, and the Subaru Impretso Amtsubishi Evil. Engine swaps,
Speaker 1: coil overs, strup bars, roll cages, LSD's, and grippy tires
Speaker 1: are the norm when it can be afforded. No nos,
Speaker 1: nothing flashy, just purpose built machines made to survive the
Speaker 1: mountain's pass. Now, despite togate being highly illegal, the racers
Speaker 1: live by a strict code of conduct. There are unspoken rules.
Speaker 1: Never race in the rain unless you're preparing to die.
Speaker 1: Never endanger civilians if a car is coming, stop the race.
Speaker 1: If you crash, you fix your own mess. No trash
Speaker 1: talking without skill to back it up, and respect the
Speaker 1: mountain always. Togai is not a free for all like
Speaker 1: other underground racing scenes. Here the mountain is sacred not
Speaker 1: just as approving ground, but as a place of honor
Speaker 1: for the racers. Whilst the togai scene is definitely still active,
Speaker 1: as we'll see, it's nothing like it was in the
Speaker 1: mid nineties. Back then toga racing had exploded. There was
Speaker 1: even a whole manga series about it called initial D.
Speaker 1: It's very cool. You might have heard of it. If not,
Speaker 1: check it out. Initial D. Generally, message boards and forums
Speaker 1: on the Internet helped u spread the culture internationally. But
Speaker 1: with more eyes came more heat from the cops. As
Speaker 1: with Kanjo, the Japanese police began cracking down hard night
Speaker 1: patrols in togay areas. Increased penalties for illegal modifications got harsher,
Speaker 1: and if you got court racing or even being associated
Speaker 1: with it, you risk losing your license immediately, having your
Speaker 1: car impounded, or getting a hefty fine. It got serious.
Speaker 1: In some prefectures. A street racing conviction could even tank
Speaker 1: your job prospects or get you kicked out of school.
Speaker 1: Some local governments started installing speed bumps or roadblocks in
Speaker 1: notorious Togay areas. Others set up permanent surveillance. As a result,
Speaker 1: many Togay drivers faded into obscurity. Some moved to sanctioned motorsports.
Speaker 1: Others just got older and stopped. But a few the
Speaker 1: hard core They kept the torch burning. This hard core
Speaker 1: element has endured till today, and there are still Togay
Speaker 1: crews popping up around the country. John tells us we're
Speaker 1: headed to meet a load of them right now, hard
Speaker 1: core underground races adapted to Togay. Apparently they're interested in
Speaker 1: speaking to us. First home, we have to go and
Speaker 1: meet them at a garage on the outskirts. We drive
Speaker 1: out of a saka at night. The more space we
Speaker 1: put between us and the city, the less neon and
Speaker 1: color days. Here, the roads are longer, flatter, and the
Speaker 1: only thing keeping them lit top are led street lights.
Speaker 1: A hazy orange glow every fifty feet points us in
Speaker 1: the right direction. John says he knows these guys well.
Speaker 1: Back in the day, John road around with them, back
Speaker 1: when the car counterculture was widespread, violent, and a lot
Speaker 1: less hidden. We move through the streets and eventually end
Speaker 1: up at the garage. This area is kind of green.
Speaker 1: I like it. There's an extremely loud main road running
Speaker 1: through the town with angry traffic. Even at this time.
Speaker 1: There's rubbish and car deburry gathered in the gutters, and
Speaker 1: you can just feel that this is not the city.
Speaker 1: I grew up in a place not too different from this,
Speaker 1: a backwater that's not so far from the city but
Speaker 1: has none of its poncey airs and graces. Halogen lights
Speaker 1: from inside the garage beam out to the front. There
Speaker 1: were probably one hundred cars here, all lined up next
Speaker 1: to each other in the courtyard. Almost all of them
Speaker 1: are Honda Civics or similarly adjacent Japanese street racing carts.
Speaker 1: The air is thick with the smell of petrol and cigarettes,
Speaker 1: not the best combination. A heavily deckaled civic is pulled
Speaker 1: up out the front. It's been in a crash. The
Speaker 1: marine blue of the chassis is torn through. It looks
Speaker 1: as if a giant claw has attacked it and peeled
Speaker 1: back its skin to the metal nerve endings. The passenger
Speaker 1: door is folded inward, crushed like a cokecan. The windscreen
Speaker 1: is a cobweb of broken glass and the front wheels
Speaker 1: are bent sideways. Whoever drove this didn't die in the
Speaker 1: but they most likely thought they would at the time.
Speaker 1: As I examined the rest of the trash civic, we
Speaker 1: hear voices approaching. Half a dozen young lads and one
Speaker 1: young woman exit the garage. They've all got their faces
Speaker 1: masked in nylon bandanas or straight top balaclavas. This is
Speaker 1: the team we've come to meet. They'll be taking us
Speaker 1: to the mountains next week. You'll hear how we drove
Speaker 1: up a small ravine and drove down it very very fast.
Speaker 1: You've been listening to the Away Days podcast. To watch
Speaker 1: independent Away Days documentaries, subscribe to our channel at YouTube
Speaker 1: dot com slash at away Days TV. Your Wait Days
Speaker 1: podcast is a production of H eleven Studio for Cool
Speaker 1: Zone Media. Reporting, producing, writing, editing and research by me
Speaker 1: Jake Hanrahan, co producing by Sophie Lichterman. Music by Sam Black,
Speaker 1: sound mixed by Splicing Block. Photography by Johnny Pickup and
Speaker 1: Louis Hollis. Graphic design by Laura Adamson and Casey Highfield.