same walk, three weeks later

The 33K walk I just did (Friday night to Saturday morning) was better than and just plain different from the previous walk in many ways. I didn't arrive as early as I thought I would: I arrived much later, but I still started this Yangpyeong-Yeoju walk maybe 20 minutes earlier than the previous walk. This time around, I arrived at about 10:55 p.m., swung by the local convenience store, and bought some water. The night was pleasantly cool and stayed that way—almost an intimation of fall. With the absence of rain, the ground was dry, and I didn't have to worry about slipping in mud puddles that formed because of poor drainage along the path. I also got much farther along the path before the lights went out, and because the moon was shining so strongly (one day post-supermoon, I think), I had no trouble seeing the path even with the lights out. I tackled the one big hill with almost no problems, and I remembered not to talk out loud to myself as I went down the other side of the hill. That's how I avoided being barked at by the local dogs. I took way fewer photos this time, and I also rested less—only five minutes every time I sat down, which was only twice as opposed to three or four times on my previous walk. As a result of these and other factors, my walk was a whole hour shorter: I arrived at the Yeoju Inter-city bus terminal at 7 a.m., almost exactly eight hours after I'd started. I did stop to stare at and photograph the spot where I fell last time, right at the Ipo Dam, and ah—before I forget: I have to write about the damn spider webs. Spiders usually come out at night and start weaving like crazy. This is true for most of the year, and I always forget to write about this phenomenon. I hate walking through spider webs because they get in my face and on my clothes. I also marvel at how I can get a faceful of webbing even though there are often no anchor points for webs at eye level. How do the web filaments rise so high? Upshot: spider webs are a big part of nighttime walks, and I sometimes deal with them even during the day. So—ready for a brief tour?

Here's a pic from early on:

A shot of that Christmas house again:

The approach to Ipo Dam, with the "fall zone" up ahead:

Almost there. The spot where I tripped is just beyond the white line that's just past the arrow. It turns out not to have been a tall ledge at all.

This was lit by my flash.

Below: where I fell. The ledge, which I'd originally described as feeling as though it were half the height of a curb, turned out to be maybe an inch tall. And I tripped over that. Dumb luck.

This was lit by my flash as well.

I lowered myself closer to the ground to get the following shot in an attempt to show the ledge more clearly. I'm not sure I succeeded.

It was a bright moon all night. Here's the moon and Yeoju Dam (at the 27K mark):

I couldn't believe I'd gotten to Yeoju Dam before sunrise.

The Hunminjeongeum in the darkness:

My camera takes in more light than the human eye. This tableau looked much darker to me.

Crossing the Yeoju Dam:

Daybreak, with a red/purple sky where the sun was about to come up:

I've crossed the river and am sitting at my usual bench by the admin building.

No fog this time. The low-hanging clouds began burning away as dawn took over:

A shot I don't think I've taken before, right as I'm arriving in the city:

A sign for Yeoju Cathedral (Yeoju Seongdang):

The front of Yeoju Cathedral:

Jesus about to announce the latest Lotto numbers:

A Rose of Sharon about a kilometer away from my destination, the Yeoju Inter-city bus terminal. I arrived at 7 a.m. and got a ticket for the 7:30 bus.

Another Rose of Sharon:

One of many webs still stuck to my shirt:

I walked through webs all night. Annoying.

All in all, a great walk. 33K in 7 hours and 50 minutes comes out to about 4.2 kph. Slow, but par for the course for me in these post-stroke days. I simply can't walk as fast or as strongly as I used to. Otherwise, though, my feet were fine aside from a little ache, and my eyes didn't gunk up like last time. (I brought along saline solution and a contact-lens container this time; I suspect these acted like talismans that kept the eye-gunk fairy away.) Despite the coolness, I was still a sweaty mess, but none of these difficulties stopped me from thoroughly enjoying this walk which, now that it's done, feels as if it were over too soon.

I didn't see any Joro spiders, but I know spider season is coming. As I walked past one distant neighborhood, a car alarm suddenly started blaring. I felt sorry for whichever poor bastard had to wake up and deal with that nonsense at 2:30 a.m. Along with the moon, Jupiter was hanging brightly in the sky, climbing until it hung directly over my head. I think Venus might've been out, too, closer to the horizon. At one point, a huge peloton of nighttime bikers rode past me, engaged in responsive chanting or shouting. I debated whether to wave, eventually deciding to remain quiet. One awesome aspect of the Yeoju Dam, which is big, is that you can hear the roar of the dam's water even when you're four kilometers away. Despite the peloton, the dam noise, and the occasional random car, the walk was mostly quiet, and the night felt close and intimate. I enjoy these nighttime walks, and since I'm in Korea and not a US city, I never worry about being accosted by crazies or being jumped by a gang. Everything feels safe and secure.

Right—a few disjointed thoughts before I flop into bed and sleep like the dead.