I'M exhausted. It's 2:18 a.m. and I'm at the ports of Osaka in Japan. I've been up for more than 27 hours-16 hours of which I spent in the confined quarters of a Boeing jet, with a two-hour layover in my native Korea. I should be in bed. Instead, I'm sprinting at full speed for my life. Running is an act that I'm not truly comfortable with, nor great at, but making it exponentially harder is running with my Gitzo tripod, fully extended, and my Canon 5D camera acting as a gravity-fighting counterweight. Think Carl Lewis holding a sledge hammer above his head for a baton, but only slower. Much slower.
About a hundred yards behind me, my predator is giving chase, its red eyes glowing, and a howl that gets louder as it closes in. On the other side of the street is Falken drift poster child Vaughn Gittin, Jr. and his mechanic, Mickey Andrade, and in front of me, Andy Laputka and his video camera. And we're all scrambling like wild gazelle trying to reach the safety that is our getaway car a quarter-mile away. We're not going to make it.
Andy, the videographer, jumps in a patch of brush lining the sidewalk. Shit. That's not a bad idea. But before I make the plunge, I hear the unmistakable shriek of tires breaking traction. Startled, I look over my shoulder to a sight I've only seen in movies. A car-a heavily modified S13 Nissan, at that-blocking the black and white Osaka Police patrol car that's been stalking us, with smoky donuts. And as if on cue, our getaway minivan-a Toyota Hiace with fellow journalist Alexi Smith behind the wheel-comes barreling down the street, both sliding doors open. JR, Mickey, my tripod and I climb in.
"Wait, where's Andy?" asks JR.
"Oh shit, he's in the bushes!" I pant.
"Andy! Get in the car!" JR screams into the street.
Andy's head pokes out from the brush. He runs up to the moving van, jumps in, and slams the doors shut. We're off! We pass our savior S13 still burning its tires, and make our way out of the docks. Once we're out of danger, the Nissan transitions from circles to a full-scale drift and takes off in the other direction. After a few quick turns, we make it onto the highway, just as another patrol car with sirens blaring screams toward where we just left. The entire car breathes a sigh of relief.
JR turns his head, grins, and exclaims, "Dude, this is what drifting in Japan is all about!"