He stands at the train platform, looking like some archaic warlord waiting for his noble steed. His attire tells me he is ready to ride into battle, and the lines on his face show me this is not his first skirmish. A leather bag’s straps are riveted by an enormous right hand, while the left hand dabs a towel across a sweat-beaded brow. His garb is traditional. A summer kimono, called a jimbe, clings to the man’s massive shoulders, wraps around his protruding sides, and envelops his noticeable abdomen. Little wooden sandals creak and groan under his weight, as he shifts his girth from one foot to another. Atop his head, a small, black ponytail shoots up instead of down, and upon cresting the skull protrudes forward until it reaches its blunt end. He nods his head in a rhythmic fashion. This vexes me at first, but as I draw near I identify the motive behind his cranium’s undulation, and it makes me laugh. While he might be dressed to the nines in traditional garb, I can now tell that this is a modern Japanese sumo wrestler. You probably are wondering how I came to this conclusion, right? The answer is simple: He is listening to his iPod.
When I heard that the Miyamae section of Tokyo was filled with heavyweights in the automotive line, I was excited. But right now all I can see is a heavyweight in the all-you-can-eat buffet line. I hastily try to snap a pic of the sumo, but he gives me a glare that says, “If you take that picture, I’m gonna slap the shit outta you little white man!” So erring on the side of caution I stow my camera and exit the station unscathed.
There are three prominent Honda shops in the Miyamae ward, and they all sit within a stone’s throw of one another. Automotive giants Spoon Sports and Honda Twincam (Feel’s) can be found here; but those guys have been covered so many times my visitation would yield you nothing more than the regurgitation of information you are probably already privy to as an enthusiast. I am searching for the most elusive of the three tuners, in the hopes of getting you, the reader, an inside look at another JDM powerhouse that is changing the face of Hondas. I want the shop no one has talked to yet. But first, I have to seek it out.
Heavily modded Skylines, STi Foresters, and Type Rs zip by me as I push further from the station. “I must be drawing close to my quarry,” I think to myself. As I was walking past a minuscule, wedge-shaped building, I noticed an abundance of Hondas littering a tiny parking lot next to it. When I say “tiny” I mean it, too. This little lot could house a handful of Hondas and nothing more. The building’s single garage door reveals a single shop bay, and inside the bay rests a single lift. There is just enough room to fit an AP1 and a couple of mechanics inside, and anything larger than a DC5 will be hard pressed to fit on the “operating table.” Above the front door a simple sign reads “Seeker” and nothing more. A couple glass windows reveal custom headers and suspension goodies to passersby. Save for seeing these parts up close there is nothing about this shop that jumps out to someone driving by. But upon closer inspection there is far more than meets the eye here. There is a story waiting to be told within the confines of this oversize “doorstop” of a building, and naturally that is why I sought these guys out.
Seekers CR-Z was built to keep up with the times.
Many moons ago Ryo Teraoka had a Nissan Fairlady Z that brought the heat when its turbos spooled up, but its gargantuan fat ass was forever needing a healthy dose of liposuction. After stripping the car of all luxuries Ryo realized that his baby was still too chunky for his tastes, so he swore off “fatties” and dumped her. A friend who worked for Spoon Sports at the time recommended that he try out a Honda for a change. While there certainly were ponies missing, the minute he hit the throttle Ryo quickly realized that what he had been pining for in the 300ZX was available behind the Honda Type R badge. As with all car enthusiasts, bolt-ons were the tip of the iceberg, and before long Ryo’s EK9 was getting “Spoon-fed” all sorts of tasty morsels. Aero, interior, brakes, engine, suspension, and more were pampered until Ryo was satisfied. And man was he satisfied… for a bit.
After driving the EK for a few months and experiencing its modified potential, Ryo started thinking about what it would be like to own his own shop. One like Spoon Sports—where it caters to a specific breed of auto manufacturer and attracts a particular manner of enthusiast. Following a healthy amount of consternation he opted to open his own shop in the hopes of bettering Hondas the world over. Again Spoon Sports came into the picture; and instead of discouraging this “upstart,” it nurtured its inception. Spoon offered advice, listened to his plights, and led by example so that he in turn could make Seeker succeed. Ryo says it is a strange feeling knowing that the men who helped make his shop possible are also his toughest competition. Spoon Sports helped bring Seeker into existence by way of encouragement and example; and with Honda Twincam/Feel’s a few kilometers down the road, the thought of a “Honda Amusement Park” comes to mind.