For self-proclaimed cycling fanatic Henry Osborn, the very thought of survivors of the March 11 Great East Japan Earthquake tsunami without bicycles made the wheels start turning in his head.
For self-proclaimed cycling fanatic Henry Osborn, the very thought of survivors of the March 11 Great East Japan Earthquake tsunami without bicycles made the wheels start turning in his head.
So, the 32-year-old British-Japanese headhunter, who grew up bouncing around rural England on BMXs and currently whips around Tokyo on a piste model, clicked into gear and started thinking about delivering much-needed bicycles to the disaster zone.
Looking around Tokyo, where tens of thousands of bikes are simply abandoned in the street every month, the solution might be obvious--why not just pedal the unwanted ones up north? Yet according to Osborn, the abundance in the capital is deceptive.
"Bicycles that have just been left are collected by the local governments, who allow the owners a few months to contact them and reclaim the bike, before they're crushed," he explains. "As soon as they stop being considered private property, they're crushed, so not many are actually available."
The typical line of local governments is that such bikes can only be released if local officials from the affected areas specifically request extra bikes--but the latter are often unaware of this.
Frustrated by such bureaucratic wrangling, Osborn decided to take matters into his own hands. He joined forces with fellow cycling nut Daiki Mochizuki, 27, a bike shop owner who had already been up to the disaster area and witnessed first-hand the demand.
With thousands of bikes and cars washed away or battered beyond repair by the tsunami, everyday tasks such as fetching groceries or getting to school have become inexorable treks for survivors, made all the more treacherous by the debris and pools of toxic water that still clutter many roads. Small children, after being cooped up inside for months, are now becoming restless and bored.
So, Osborn and Mochizuki decided to start collecting bikes from friends in and around Tokyo to take up north.
"We expected maybe 20 or 30 bikes, but the e-mail went viral, and we got about 50 in the first three days," says Osborn.
"Bikes for Japan," as the project was christened, has now delivered more than 500 bikes to tsunami survivors.
Osborn won't deny it's been a bumpy road--they had to fit in weekday pick-ups and weekend delivery missions in a rental truck alongside their day jobs, which left them sleep-deprived and out of pocket--but the emotional response from both sides has been motivational.
"A lot of the donors told us that their kids had learned to ride on the bikes they gave, and they wanted children up in Tohoku to be able to use the bikes and have the same experience," he says. "It's not just giving a bike; you're giving a piece of your own history because you want them to feel the same way."
On the receiving end, many have been thrilled to be able to search for work, shop for food, and get to school without having to trudge for hours. Yet most heartwarming for Osborn, who has a baby on the way, is watching children zip around on their new wheels.
"Kids really need something to look forward to--and when you see them on their bikes they just go into their own little world," he says.