Day 15, Leg 13

Damn, last night's camp-out was pretty awful. I found a spot about 2K past my intended spot under the Sangpoong Bridge. The spot I found was downhill from the bike path, where an old road was. The entrance to the road had been fenced off, and the ground lay fallow, but the grassiness gave me some hope, so I skipped over the barrier (more like heaved myself over), sniffed around a bit, and eventually found an unobtrusive spot just behind one of the many drainage gates you see at intervals along Korean rivers. 

Picking that spot turned out to be a mistake, but I was too tired to move. As I discovered, a modern drainage gate is basically a robot with lots of whirring servos and security devices. I didn't know this when I picked the spot, but I learned a lot in a short time. There was a constant humming and a repeated series of clicks that went on all night. And when the sun went down, a harsh security light turned on, bathing my campsite in bright light. "At least I won't have any trouble seeing while I pack up," I muttered to myself. Then I looked up.

To my horror, I saw that one of the things whirring on servos was a CCTV camera mounted directly over my head. So then, I began to wonder about whether a team of angry Koreans would be dispatched to apprehend the foreign vandal of government equipment. Lucky for me, nothing happened, but I was tense and nervous before fatigue took over. 

Sleeping in my bivy proved mightily uncomfortable. The night got colder, and I generated a ton of condensation. This hadn't been a problem on previous trips, probably because I would normally pass through this region almost a month earlier. Warmer temps, less condensation. I have one more camping night ahead of me, so I'm going to have to figure out what to do. 

I barely slept at all as I tossed and turned within my tight confines. It was an uncomfortable night, and when my phone sounded at 3 a.m. (I kept it and my other tech close to me all night to avoid dew/condensation), I felt relieved that the night was over for me. Packing did indeed take the entire hour. One nice thing about the drainage gate was that it had a low wall that I used as shelf space, the better to organize the items in my backpack as I packed. At 3 a.m., the night was silent except for some madly barking dogs across the river. The stars and planets were out, but fog and clouds were rolling in.

With my bivy and groundsheet soaked in dew, and my sleeping bag soaked in condensation, I knew I had little choice but to pack things wet. That's a horrible feeling, and you know you're going to have to air everything out later (as I'm doing right now, while I'm writing this).

I should note, though, that before it was night, a huge moon appeared in the evening sky, burning brightly. I snapped some pictures of it, but my cell phone couldn't do the real-life image justice. The same moon did its best to shine through the fog at 4:05 a.m. when I left my horrible campsite and began the 26K trudge to the Nakdan Dam area, where I am now. 

That trudge started off dark and foggy, with diffused light being the only thing to guide my way at points. Today's path began with a truly mean hill—one with a slope so canted that you feel as if you're walking with difficulty up a set of stairs. I did both the nasty uphill and the treacherous downhill in semidarkness, and my left foot, which is finally feeling the weight of this journey, sang an opera of pain both on the way up and on the way down. 

I didn't take my first rest break until I was over that mountain and next to a museum I knew. I used the restroom there and hit a vending machine. I was lucky on that score: this was a vending machine that took more than just W1,000 bills: it also accepted W5,000 and W10,000 bills. I broke my fast, also eating a pack of jerky as I drank. The jerky tasted terrible; when I looked closely at the package, I saw that I had mistakenly bought garlic-flavored jerky. Ick. Well, live and learn. And never again.

Because I've been getting up so much earlier than on past trips, I'm passing a lot of sights, in the early morning, that I'd seen in full daylight before. These same sights now are shrouded in mist and darkness. While the fog certainly makes things interesting, it's frustrating not to be able to photograph certain sights such that they stand out clearly. As a result, many of my early-morning photos, almost every day this trip, are now dark and/or murky. Sorry about that.

The Korean weather service had predicted bright sun by 8 a.m. when I checked the weather last night, but at 9 a.m. today, everything was still foggy. When I checked the weather again, I saw the sunniness had been moved to noon. 

Today's path felt long, mainly thanks to increasing foot pain. I'm not worried about another stress fracture, mainly because I'm steadily losing weight, but I do worry about the same bone-bruise feeling I'd gotten during one of my practice walks. I finally started taking full doses of ibuprofen every four hours today. That helped although I have no idea what's happening to my kidneys. My first dose came when I was at that vending machine.

Where yesterday's segment was flat, today's was hilly. In fact, if you're a runner or a rucker, I'd say it's a great segment for hill training. There's that big, mean hill early on, then you've got a series of small-but-steep hills at intervals the rest of the way. Lots of great scenery along the way; the Nakdong itself is mighty impressive. There's one almost-scary bridge crossing; the bridge has no shoulders and no special lane for bikers; there's just a painted warning repeated on the asphalt: "Watch out for bikers." I made it across despite a lot of traffic; drivers literally go out of their way to avoid bikers and walkers, straying into opposing lanes if need be.

As I was walking past foggy Gyeongcheon Island, I saw a huge restroom and took the opportunity to drop the kids off at the pool (yes, even after two days of fasting, my intestines still had something to say). I had left my possessions outside, as one does in Korea because it's rare for some asshole to grab your stuff and run, and as I was prepping to leave, I could see, out of the corner of my eye, a Korean man edging toward me. "Hello," he finally blurted in English. He tried to say, "Where are you headed?", but it quickly became obvious my Korean was better than his English, so we switched to Korean. The guy was a store owner, and we talked about the Four Rivers trail a bit. He said he'd heard of the Canadian guy whose video had initially inspired me to do my first big walk, but inwardly, I doubted we were thinking of the same dude. Anyway, this guy didn't seem like the typical creepy person who immediately gravitates toward foreigners because he wants something. He was harmless and merely friendly, and he wished me well on my journey. He took a picture of me with my tee design; I wish I'd taken a picture of him, but I was eager to be on my way.

I'd forgotten that this leg takes me past Sangju Dam before finally depositing me near Nakdan Dam. With all the morning fog, the dam appeared out of the mist like an ancient behemoth. That was actually sort of neat.

I passed a lot of cows today, and later in the walk, I passed some protest signs expressing anger at the possibility of there being yet more livestock complexes built in the area. 

In the final 10K of the walk, I passed the same convenience store I always pass, run by an old woman. She didn't recognize me, but she, too, saw my tee shirt and put two and two together. "Busan?' she croaked, asking about my final destination. "Yes," I said. "Walking?" she croaked again. "Yes," I said, and she gave an empathetic groan. I'm far enough south, now, that the local accent is thick and distinctly different from what I usually hear in Seoul. When she asked if I was walking (not biking), she said the standard "걸어서? (georeoseo?)," but it came out sounding like "그르스? (geureuseu?)" In the south, they tend to smoosh their vowels flat. 

Naver initially kept insisting on sending me across the river to reach my goal, but I remembered having repeatedly walked a path with the river on my left, so I ignored Naver until I was far enough along my chosen path for Naver to have no choice but to plot the course I wanted to walk. The problem is that there are parallel courses on both sides of the river; one is the Four Rivers trail, and the other is the Nakdong River Gukto Jongju, which I've talked about before. That trail runs from the Andong Dam to Busan. From Sangju to Busan, the Nakdong and Four Rivers paths are basically the same, but they sometimes happen along parallel tracks. So when you see the map image below, know that that's Naver's original plot for me, not the route I actually took. Same distance, though.

After a long day, I'm back at the Havana Motel. The same surly lady from three years ago is still managing the place, giving me an attitude that wouldn't be out of place in big-city France. She said she had no small rooms for a person arriving alone like me; all she had were multi-person rooms for W60,000 a night. I was fine with that, and as it turns out, I'm actually delighted with my room, which is spacious enough to sleep three or four people comfortably.* This means I have plenty of floor space to lay out all my camping gear and let it dry. I had also brought along a clothesline that I strung up from one corner of the room to another, and I'm currently drying some of my hand-washed clothes on it. 

Tomorrow's walk is to the strangely named but nicely appointed Libertar Pension. On my 2019-era schedule, this segment is listed as 18.3 kilometers. Naver has rounded that up to 19K, which is still fine. I'm going to take my time getting out of here in the morning so I can properly stow my camping gear: I didn't do a very good job of packing this morning when I left that campsite. 

The morning I leave Libertar (October 30), it's a long, 32K walk to the next motel, and I'll be taking another rest break there—my third if you're keeping score.

My feet are starting to feel the accumulated aches and pains of this trip. I'm losing weight, but not fast enough, and I'm still shaped like a beach ball. I've reached the seventh hole in my belt, though, which means I've lost three inches off my waist. No one will notice that but me, but at least that's something. In a few days, I'll have to decide whether to add a few more holes to the belt. I'm a bit worried about doing it wrong and causing the leather to tear, but that's not going to be an issue for several days. And who knows: I might have reached some sort of seventh-hole plateau. We'll see.

Oh, yeah: one of my great walk traditions is losing some item. I seem to have lost my right glove. That's the glove I'm constantly taking off so I can take my early-morning cell-phone pictures. I had it when I left the campsite, but somewhere between there and here, I guess I just lost the thing. It now joins the heaps and hordes of lost single gloves that I encounter almost every day on this walk. How fitting. When I reach Daegu in a few days, I know there's an outdoor store that'll sell gloves for bikers. I'll just buy another pair then. In the meantime, I can wrap my hand in my toshi to keep it warm. Unless the glove magically pops up at some point, my assumption is that it's gone to glove heaven.

Info and images coming up.

not exactly today's route, but close

another 4300-calorie burn

shelf space at the campsite

the security light that was on all night

the best my camera can do in capturing the moon; I saw its features with the naked eye

spooky scene for Halloween

a tap (lit. pagoda), a tiny cairn

one of many wooden statues in Gyeongcheondae Park, dressed a bit like a Franciscan friar

the angry duck who judges your soul when you die

fogged-out bridge to Gyeongcheon Island

"Kiss me."

Believe it or not, this is the Nakdong River, not a lake.

Earlier, I mentioned eating a persimmon yesterday. I found it on the ground with a group of persimmons. There was no persimmon tree around, so at a guess, someone left the persimmons there—God knows why. I normally have bad luck eating random persimmons; they usually end up being unripe, which means they leave this awful, sticky, bitter sensation in my mouth. Still, I cleaned off the tastiest-looking one and bit into it. It was delicious! Why would someone throw perfectly good fruit away? After eating the persimmon on the spot, I kept walking, but I did briefly wonder whether I had just poisoned myself. Oh, well, I thought, I guess I'll know in a few minutes. Turns out I didn't vomit, shit, and die, so the fruit must've been okay. I won't make a habit of gambling like that, though.

__________

*The WiFi here has also improved, and the bathroom is nicely tiled and just awesome. No smart toilet, alas.

PHOTO ESSAY

shelf space

Everything's wet.

harsh light all night

The moon breaks through the clouds.

spooky

some precipitation coming down

going up that mean hill soon

Halfway up the mean hill. Can you see the observation deck?

Ground is leveling out.

equestrian area

Confucian site

I say this every time: I need to visit this place.

I'll be turning left into Gyeongcheondae, where there's a sculpture garden.

The path leads this way.

Sometimes, life is a binary. I choose Busan.

Danger Guy shows why you don't park on the side of the road: it's a bike path.

Top line: "We hope you'll walk."
Second line: "Unauthorized vehicles forbidden."
Second panel: "Thanks for visiting Gyeongcheondae."

shwimteo with picnic tables

up a gentle hill; the sculpture garden isn't far

many, many tap

Gyeongcheondae in Chinese

steps up, with cairns

entrance to the sculpture garden

"Be patient."

"Fury"

"Prayer"

"Rest"

incongruous Western windmill

"Regret"

"Peaceful Rest" (how's this different from the previous "Rest"?)

"Sharing"

"Income/Gain"

Yes.

Here's hoping.

Why is this presented as two different alternatives?

Going to Busan, then! Laters!

"Sangju Dam, Nakdan Dam"

Ramble on... sing my song...

Gukto Jongju

This took some figuring.

I should've stayed next to the road, but I went left and had a hard time escaping the park.

At least I had a chance to see the duck god.

scarier to focus on the drool under the beak

Abandon all hope, ye who camp here.

shower room for men

showers for women

giant mama duck and her giant offspring

Sign: "Drinking, cooking, and camping are absolutely prohibited."
On a clear day, you can see the island that this bridge takes you to. I've never visited the island.

This may be a good time to note that, when I do a given segment of this walk, I don't budget extra time, distance, or energy for side trips. I might mentally note that a place looks as if I should visit again during my free time. Walking across the country, though, doesn't leave me with free time. Think of me as being on a schedule. I've had several people, who I assume are the easily distracted type, ask me whether I take side trips during these walks. That's a hard no. I might reluctantly indulge a partner if I were walking with one, but I know I'd pay a steep price for going out of my way, possibly adding several kilometers to an already-long segment. Side trips are for later.

There's a risk of falling if you lean on the railing.

the restroom where I achieved temporary emptiness

a proud sign for Sangju City

informational map plus blurb about the Confucian academy just off to the side

read from right to left: Do Nam Seo Weon (Tao-South Confucian Academy)

I can read maybe a third of these characters. Sorry.

Another Danger Guy moment. Again, don't lean on the railing.

Bus stop for Donam-dong, heading to Gangcheondae.

so many campers

Little did I know that I was approaching a dam.

another don't-lean-on-railing warning

Dewey Webb

Another anti-suicide note about how miraculous you are. I hope these help someone.

the dam makes itself known

See the bike etched into the side of the tower?

God bless those dam engineers.

So this is the Sangju Dam (or weir—small dam—as the map says).

"Sangju Dam"

Cert center. No, not 100 meters. Much closer.

We're going right.

17.4 km to the Nakdan Dam cert center.

more randomly abandoned fruit

I guess were not supposed to go down there given the state of the guardrails.

Is that distance right? He'd seen a marker saying the final destination was 283 km away. Now it's 301?

from 17.4 km to 16.5 km

final destination, 300 km

early-morning scrimmage?

berries, but not edible (or are they crabapples?)

15.5K to Nakdan Dam cert center

14.8 km to Nakdan Dam

car driving through grass

We plow through the horns of the dilemma and go straight.

a sign for the Nakdong River

The previous sign was for cars. We can go straight because we're not envehicled.

a forlorn-looking shwimteo

298K to final goal

more frustrating drivers

Cheung Eui Jeong, archery field

archery event in progress

Korea, land of squashes

This happened on a bike path, not the road.

This has the feel of a farm road. And look at that bleak sun.

high-flying persimmons

Still on the right path.

more cosmos

ready to kiss you or Georgia O'Keeffe you

Rust much?

The sun breaks through.

arugula? turnips?

irrigation sprays off to the side, baptizing the road

The sun is out... but death rears its ugly head.

Halfway up the hill, they tell us the slope!

It's not a horrible hill by any means.

崇/soong/숭 (high, to collect)
袓/jeo/저 (like, work goes well)
園/weon/원 (garden, yard)
A person's name? The name of the property? No idea.

I imagine this explains who or what Soong Jeo Weon is.

almost jerky

frog jerky

Gukto Jongju, half-buried

myo (gravesite)

more ladies

a curious one

and another

...and one more!

little to no traffic

protest sign about a new livestock facility: "Why in this clean area?"

This one calls the livestock complexes smelly.

Not resting here today.

yet another rusty shipping-crate office... a lot of these out in the countryside

Yup, ya got me.

a little hill, then a shwimteo

almost... almost...

the sign for the village of Shin Am Ri (or Shinam-ri, if you will)... sounds like "New Cancer Village" to me

I'd hate to be going up that road on the left.

a land flowing with beef and milk

no clue what that's about

crossing that shoulderless bridge now

I think that's Chinese, and it says Joong Dong Bridge (Central/Middle East Bridge, no relation to deserts).

lower right: "Caution"

a shot taken while crossing

a shot off the other side

safely back on a biking/walking path

another aerodynamic lizard

I love straightaways.

another drain gate

weird, random benches

Are these effective?

I think I'm more creeped out than the birds are.

Left turn coming up.

Here we go.

Dragonflies were hard to photograph alive this time around. Here's a dead one.

I think this is a sign for a cemetery.

This bridge signals I'm near the end of today's walk. Just a few K to go.

lonely grave

...and a Christian grave at that!

2.5K to the Nakdan Dam cert center.

Nice house, tucked away from the world.

chill dawg

This is new: the museum/park is being renovated, I guess.

Nakdan Dam ahead.

Nakdong River History Museum

toward the dam, toward the town

Nakdan Dam

But I won't be crossing: the town where my motel is is on this side of the river.

Stupid planning for bikes and pedestrians: trees in the way.

rich and poor, side by side

Once I was close to my motel, I stopped at a Chinese place to eat.

jjajang-myeon (noodles and black-bean sauce)

The jjajang-myeon sauce is rather seafood-forward.

My other dish was jjambbong—spicy, salty seafood soup.

You can't see from this angle, but the bull is anatomically correct.

Plenty of floor space to air-dry my damp camping equipment.

This was an opportunity to string up my nylon cord and use it as a clothesline.

I worried that my nylon cord would pop off the wall and collapse, but it held all night, and everything that had been wet with dew dried up nicely.