Day 14, Leg 9

Video 1: Mantis

Video 2: Caterpillar/Larva

Video 3: Another Caterpillar/Larva 

And do you know what happened? A miracle!

—Salieri

After I had worried for days about an unchanging forecast of rain for today, the gods decided not to make life any more difficult for me, and they made it rain from Saturday night until about 3:30 a.m. this morning, stopping the rain about an hour before I left the Lee Motel. I felt only a few stray, half-hearted drops, and that was it. So: no wet clothes, no wet shoes, nothing. Just wet asphalt. It was once again a great day for walking. And the weather is supposed to be clear through the 15th, which is my final day. I couldn't ask for more than that.

If you look at the map below, you'll see that Naver again changed the distance on me, increasing the length of today's segment from 32K to 33K. This seems apropos: Naver had asked me to perform an impossible bridge crossing in Gumi City using a bridge with no bike lane or shoulder. Fuck that. As you'll see below, especially in the photo essay, I crossed the river via the main bridge, which paralleled the bridge that Naver had suggested. Unfortunately, my chosen bridge had no easy exit, so I had to walk a bit farther, then double back to return to the river, which cost me about a kilometer. So I'd agree that today ended up being closer to 33K than 32K.

Once the morning darkness had lifted, the day became bright and beautiful, with pleasant temperatures and partly cloudy skies. The final part of the walk was sunny and featured a strong, gusty breeze—my favorite type of weather, i.e., sunny and gently windy. My feet hurt again by the end, but this is the walk's final week, so there's no use bellyaching: this is what I'd signed up for. 

No one stopped and talked with me today, and I didn't see a single shaman spider. I got a few friendly thumbs-up from some passing bikers, and I saw quite a few Westerners on bikes, including one entire family. They pretty much all confirmed my forming stereotype that most Westerners pack too much for long bike trips, probably because they can't speak or read Korean and therefore feel they have to do everything themselves, including camping and cooking. I only rarely see Korean bikers weighed down by heavy saddlebags full of supplies: they know how to find restaurants and lodging just by reading the various advertisements all over the trails. And Korean-fluent Westerners are in the same boat, not burdened by a pile of unnecessary supplies while traversing a small country. To me, the saddlebags look increasingly ridiculous. Unless this represents a conscious choice to rough it, which is possible (but in my opinion unlikely).

I'll be washing my clothes tonight, stripping the dressings off my feet, checking my feet for irritations and blisters, then showering and sleeping before leaving around 5:30 tomorrow morning. Luckily, the Libertar Pension has an electric fan, so my clothes will be guaranteed dry by morning. 

I did see another snake today, and while I snapped two shots of it, I didn't get any video this time. Maybe the third time will be a charm. I also saw two more of the same species of brown-bodied, black-eyestalked slug I've been seeing nearly every day. And all the cows I've seen on this walk—as on every such walk—have been light brown. Just how many species of cattle exist on the peninsula? One?

[Trivia, 12/13/25: The answer is four, and only one is common.]

Fall colors seem more prevalent the farther north I go, but once I hit eastern northwestern Sangju, I'm heading almost due east to Andong, so I won't be going any farther north. Tomorrow's walk is short at only 23K; that'll take me to south Sangju and the Bonghwang Motel. Tuesday's walk will also be short at 25K; that will take me to eastern northwestern Sangju. Wednesday's walk, though, will be a punishing 36K to Jibo-myeon, the town right next to Andong. I'll be staying in Jibo-myeon for two nights—the final time I take advantage of that luxury. The next-to-last day of the walk will be 30K to western Andong and the Songhak Motel, and the final day will be a 28K trek to the Andong Dam, after which I will grab a cab to the Andong bus terminal, buy a ticket to Seoul, and return to my mundane existence, a creature of the city once again.

But it won't be over for this blog: I'll still have to upload all of the photos I'd taken each day; the photos will need to be enlarged and captioned, and before all of that, I'll need to write up my trip's postmortem. Along with all of the pic-related material, I'll also need to add more commentary to every post. So there'll be a lot for me to do and a lot for you still to see. I urge you, therefore, to sit tight. Even once I'm back at my place, the show won't be over.

Meanwhile, enjoy today's images.

33 km walked, not 40.5

now 33K, not 32K

leaving Chilgok-gun in the dark

All bridges are a bit eerie at this hour.

la géométricité charmante des ponts

cute husky statue in a park

I guess it's fall.

my favorite sort of old-school shwimteo

Don't eat these berries.

I wonder if my buddy Tom knows this Gumi baseball park has been completed.

couches in inappropriate places

Gumi Dam in the evening light

PHOTO ESSAY

Thanks for two good nights, motel.

toward the tunnel and back up to freeway/bike-path level

Chilgok Dam at night and no longer lit up

so long, observation deck

"Korea's Peace City, Chilgok"

I don't know the history of the Chilgok region, but it seems to have taken upon itself the mantle of "city of peace." There are sculptures, plaques, and even entire buildings devoted to peace. It makes the region worth exploring in greater depth.

A lot of large parks have these big performance spaces. All the world's a stage.

huge Korean flag 1

huge Korean flag 2

huge Korean flag 3

huge Korean flag 4, with pro settings (reduced ISO, increased shutter speed)

off into the night

I guess Chilgok isn't a small city: my departure from it was well lit.

"Join in Packing out your trash."—i.e., Don't look for any garbage cans, but carry your trash back out with you.

I think it's stupid not to have trash cans because, both inside and outside of Korea, people tend to just throw their trash on the ground. At the same time, I'm having visions of garbage cans that are overflowing with trash. In a Murphy's Law sort of way, it seems as if you can never have enough trash cans: no matter how many you install, they always spill over. Either way, you end up with trash on the ground. Where's a good Mr. Fusion when you need one?

no pedestrian lane, but it doesn't matter at this hour

"For grass growth: no tents, camping, cooking, or smoking in the ecological park."

long and strangely straight earthworm

A long, lonely path, but I don't mind.

Deokpo Bridge (Deokpo-daegyo, 덕포대교).

textured moon thanks to the "pro" setting

white-blob moon once I'm off the "pro" setting

coming up on Deokpo Bridge

(6:17 a.m.) Strange trick of the lighting from this picture...

...to the next! (6:18 a.m.)

I can only attribute the bizarre, night-and-day difference to some kind of over-adjustment of my phone camera's "pro" setting. Really weird. I just triple-checked the photos in my phone's folders to make sure I hadn't accidentally imported a pic from a different day/time into this day's photo essay. All the time and date stamps seem to check out: what you just saw, in the two previous photos, is exactly what I'd shot. Yeah, it's freaking me out, too. It has to be human error if error is the word.

6:21 a.m. (Let's track the time more closely for a bit.)

6:38 a.m.

6:39 a.m.—aftermath of the night's rain is visible, but no current rain

Seokjeok Park Golf Course (Chilgok County)

"golf" course from a distance

The balls used in park golf look like the ones found in croquet, but the "clubs" are lighter than croquet mallets in terms of weight, with a large head that resembles a normal golf club's, maybe with longer handles than in croquet at the max end (park-golf club handle length: max. 33"-34" or 84-86 cm; croquet-mallet length: 24"-38" or 61-96 cm). Golf balls in park golf aren't whacked or chipped high into the air; the idea is more to hit them so that they roll along the ground and come to a stop in or near the desired hole. Fairway length in park golf is therefore a lot shorter.

I've got a while to walk before I'm done with this straightaway.

Yup, she saw me zooming in on her.

The grounds look kind of depressing here. Where's the grass? Other park-golf courses have green grass.

But I like the fall-colored trees.

red-headed tree, buildings in the distance

another nice circle for Shakespeare in the park

more fall-colored trees—very nice

Note the building on the right, advertising a dog park.

sign with arrow, middle: "General walking path" (산책/sanchaek= stroll; 길/gil = path)

right-hand sign: warnings about not being by the river or on the bike path during severe weather

left-hand sign: actions not to take in the park—damaging facilities, leaving pet droppings, drinking/smoking, cooking/camping, throwing out trash in an unauthorized manner, driving vehicles in or out, anything else that impedes management of the park

left-hand sign, closeup

"General Walking Path" (middle sign, closeup)

right-hand sign, closeup

swerving toward the river, then under the bridge and alongside the bank

the graffito I've never quite been able to decode

7:11 a.m. (sticking the phone through a fence)

apartments marching on

The bottom of the sign again warns against using the bike path during severe weather. Flooding is real.

국토종주

"Add people (to your life, I presume). Share your suffering; share your sadness; share your story."
bottom: mental-health and suicide-hotline numbers

interesting fence design

coming up on another boardwalk (and no pedestrian lane in sight)

No swimming, as Danger Guy demonstrates

modern shwimteo

raised boardwalks in the woods by the path

146K to go until the end

bunker? utility building? I'd guess bunker.

water still dripping down onto the path from the bridge above

"sharp curve" (geup keobeu/급커브)

the Dead Marshes, Precious

a shock of fall color

See the waterfowl? Geese, I believe.

See them now? Getting hungry?

This tower is something of a landmark for me, indicating a new phase in the walk.

long, thin eodo/여도 (fish ladder) for only the most Eliud Kipchoge-ish of fish

the fish ladder, seen at its highest point

skirting around the side of the tower

surface drying as I walk over it

This next phase feels like a combination of depressingly dilapidated and pleasantly parklike.

One of two huge display-manufacturing centers that sit next to each other. This is Gumi City, which also isn't small.

raised shwimteo, rearing up like an offended cat

In all the times I've passed this abandoned spot, I've never seen anyone in there, not even curious kids.

a slug

a different slug

Gumi City, sprawling in the distance

the park I'm walking beside

invisible guillotine/gallows for invisible people (or a portal to another universe?)

cue the dog-statue part of this park walk

Koreans love their abstract sculpture.

This part of the park is a tribute to man's best friend.

Herrowf.

I watch a lot of goofy-husky videos on YouTube. Huskies are cute, but I'd never want one.

Huskies shed—a lot—if you don't groom them, and they have two coats of fur. They're also very high-energy working dogs that are smart, stubborn, and very vocal. Everything about a husky screams high maintenance. No, thanks. I'd rather get a short-haired retriever of some sort. More of a family dog, less of a drama queen. I do realize that temperaments can vary within a species: a nasty retriever can be worse than a playful, obedient, docile husky. But on average, that's not how reality works.

Then again, who would be better for really long walks—a husky or a retriever?

the fall pageant

simple, square shwimteo

more abstract sculpture

I think East Asians are primed to appreciate abstractness thanks to Sino-Korean/Sino-Japanese characters.

Look at the character pronounced dae in Korean (dai in Japanese): 大. You can imagine a man stretching out his arms and legs and going, "I love you thiiiiis much!" See? Abstraction! Dae means "big." Every time I've labeled a large bridge on this blog, I've used the term daegyo (大橋/대교), which literally means "large bridge." But it's weird to call a bridge something like "Nakdong River Large Bridge" and much more natural just to say "Nakdong River Bridge." This can sometimes cause trouble if both a daegyo and a just-gyo both exist. But more often than not, that's not the case.

Did any of my readers watch Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves?

Among types of abstract sculpture beloved of Koreans, disembodied hands rank up there.

The fall parade continues, and I've moved up a level from the bike-path/sidewalk stretch.

a gnarly-looking shwimteo

more dilapidation (and I'm back down at the bike-path level)

Drink it in.

And more park golf... because you love it thiiiis much.

It apparently takes an average of about two hours to play through a course.

Is this our first time seeing Danger Boy? And his crotch-covering turtle?

more abstraction

Remember the faux Abraham Lincoln meme that says, Anything is a dildo if you're brave enough?

The hump of the hill masks the water that the rounded bridge is passing over.

another simple, square, hutlike shwimteo

Dongnak Park "Healthy Walking" Course

With a helpful graphic on how to walk: gaze 10-15 m ahead; chest out; hands lightly fisted as arms brush your sides; feet hitting the ground heel first; breathe in through your nose; shoulders level and back straight; feet close enough for the knees to brush; longer stride than normal by about 5-10 cm

As is consistent with the Korean philosophy of life ("If an easy way and a hard way to do things both exist, always choose the hard way"), you are never to enjoy yourself while walking, and by following the above guidelines, you will be ensured an unpleasantly strenuous walk. Unless you're one of those naturally impatient people who push themselves to walk fast. I've never understood such people: you're still going to die eventually. So relax and enjoy life.

shwimteo in the distance

zoomed in

damn trekking-pole handle again

the key to the situation... or a cheeky yoni?

Abe Lincoln asks, "Are you brave enough?"

"How about now?"

hrrrrrrggggggh

Is it wrong for me to feel some sympathy for this one?

baseball, thank Cthulhu

a classic good-versus-evil matchup

a modern bell that I didn't bother to approach this year

Gumi Bicycle Education Center

mobile restroom, one of many along the whole path (usually closed in very cold weather)

grave marker, or is it marking something else?

abstract turtle

tank on display

the windmill I never get a clear shot of whenever I pass this way

special: this is a pentagonal shwimteo

I made the mistake of crossing this new footbridge, thinking it would be a shortcut. I ended up doubling back.

Don't do it, Kevin!

Fuck. Too late.

skittish burdz

possibly a heron

I need to sit down one day and learn the difference between herons, egrets, cranes, storks, and all the other long-necked, gawky, dinosaur-sounding waterfowl I see along streams and rivers here.

Yeah, pretend to look proud, asshole. I know you're a scaredy-cat looking for any excuse to take off.

My thoughts turn to DNA for some reason.

I should have immediately realized that this was unfamiliar territory. But I pressed on.

portable terlit and rusty shipping container

Around this point, I realized that continuing this way would be useless, so I doubled back.

Again: Never argue with Naver's suggested route.

It's early enough in the day (8:56 a.m.) for there not to be much traffic here.

what a thing to drop

Having grabbed some snacks, I crossed the street here and sat down to rest and eat.

a shwimteo I finally sat at (note the cigarette butts)

This symbol is found at random parts of the trail.

"Journey of a Confucian Scholar" (Yusaeng-ae yeojeong/유생의 여정)

There we go.

Whoa, this scaffolding is new. Renovations, I gather.

AI explanation follows.

Here is the "tl;dr" explanation given to me by AI (so it could be very wrong):

동락원 (東洛苑) next to 인동향교 is almost certainly:

• a Classical Confucian garden,
• built as a scholarly contemplation space,
• its name invoking the cultural prestige of Luoyang (洛),
• intentionally paired with the nearby 향교 as part of a traditional educational-cultural environment.

Nothing about the placement is random — it’s part of a whole scholarly landscape.

The AI's remark about "the placement" of the classical Confucian garden is in response to a question I'd asked about whether the placement of the 동락원/Dongnakweon next to the location seen in the next picture, the 인동향교/Indonghyanggyo, was coincidental or meaningful. The AI's full explanation went on for several pages.

And as usual with potentially interesting sites, I've never been to see this "Confucian temple."

Indonghyanggyo/인동향교 in hanja.

This is one time when I have to ignore Naver.

At this point, Naver is telling me not to go straight ahead across this obvious bridge with its obvious path. Instead, Naver wants me to head to a parallel bridge just to the right—a bridge you can't see in the above picture—then cross that bridge and head down to the river to continue on. Unfortunately, the parallel bridge has no shoulder at all—no safe place for me to walk. This route was probably recommended because I had my Naver Map app on "cycling" mode, so it was showing me a cycling route. But even on a bike, I would never want to be so exposed to traffic. So, ignoring Naver, I make the command decision to cross the river by crossing the main bridge (Gumi Bridge/Gumi-daegyo/구미대교) that's right in front of me. Screw Naver on this one.

The problem, as you'll see, is that when I reach the other end of the bridge (the west side), there's no immediate ramp or stairway veering northward (rightward off the bridge) to allow me to exit the bridge and go directly down to the riverside so as to continue following the Nakdong to the north. What I have to do instead is keep walking straight ahead an extra 500 m after I'm off the bridge to reach the first possible turnoff, at which point I will take the turnoff, effectively do a U-turn, then march to the riverside—a total of about one kilometer of extra walking.

Hell, if an extra kilometer is the price of staying safe as opposed to walking right next to traffic on a skinny, congested bridge, I don't mind. So ignoring Naver, here, is an easy decision. Forward I go.

looking rightward at a neighborhood before I cross (Nakdong River sign in the background)

same neighborhood

The turtle says, "구미대교, or Gumi-daegyo." That's the bridge.

This bridge is about 688 m long.

You can sort-of see the parallel bridge I was talking about off to the right. See the lack of shoulder?

the Nakdong as I cross safely on my biking/walking path

It's turned into a nice day, and unlike a lot of bridges, this one isn't currently windy. I like sunny, windy days, but I don't like too much wind when I'm crossing a bridge.

looking left and south, roughly back the way I came

The parallel bridge is now even more visible. How was I supposed to walk that?

I spy the recently completed baseball park. I remember when that land was still being developed.

another look over at the new park (right and north of me)

So the bridge ends about here, but I have to keep going—away from the riverbank— until I find my first right turn and can head back toward the river. A few hundred meters.

Looking over the edge as I slowly descend; I'll be walking back toward the river on the road below.

more of these inedible berries

But they are pretty.

a bunker/office?

a cheeky rose hangs out independently

a zoomed-in look

a look back

The metal plate also says, "Gumi Bridge."

Walking past the parallel bridge that hugs the bridge I just crossed; I'm by the riverside at this point.

a different angle on the baseball park

Go, team! I don't know which of you is winning, but I hope you win!

behind the sign: "Gumi Baseball Park"

This used to be Spider Alley 3, but not today. No spiders in evidence.

See my report from last year, on the equivalent day, for spider pics.

another new baseball diamond

I realize that "new" may be subjective. This park is at least a year old. The baseball diamonds were here last year, but the signage is new to me.

last shot of the "new" diamond

old baseball fields—been here since forever

Note a major change: the new fields have the batters batting away from the river, and the new diamonds have fences. The old fields, by contrast, have the batters batting toward the river, and the fences are fairly skimpy.

OG field

As you can see, the building with writing on its roof is a church.

unzoomed for context

OG field, one final time

I began to suspect that this facility, which isn't labeled on Naver Map, ...

...might actually be military, in which case, it's probably not wise to keep taking pictures of it.

I'll be crossing over that bridge in the distance. A lot of bike paths do that, i.e., make you cross rivers multiple times.

It's not always about getting there quickly but about giving you a tour of the land and the civilization. Just as I like to stop and take pics of flowers and spiders and snakes and mantises, the planners of these bike routes wanted bikers to stop and smell the roses, so to speak. Utilitarian pragmatism has its place, but on a nice day like today, just relax and enjoy.

right and down

I have to go under this new bridge first, then circle back around and take a ramp up to it, then cross.

Here cometh the ramp.

shallow switchback for bikes

left and across the bridge

cross, cross, cross

as always: an abandoned glove awaits

the kind of small village or town whose lights look pretty at night

like those land and sea ambush predators that bury themselves partway to conceal their presence

looking left and north now (because I'm crossing west to east this time)

looking right and south

국토종주 (we're going the right way)

across now, going left and north

swooping back down to the river, then keeping the river on my left as I go north

another neat fence design

a typical, post-harvest field, with threshed-rice "straw" laid out for hay baling

"Cabbages," intoned Mr. Ferguson.

And what riverside game greets us yet again?

Piled-up wood and other plant matter will become a prominent trope for the rest of the walk.

Tis the season, I think, to be landscaping—now, while the plants are sluggish.

that pretty town/village I'd seen and mentioned earlier (digital zoom)

1X-zoom view

all ahead full

more threshed fields

mountainside myo

zoomed back for context

gravesite waaaaay in the background

another whole family of dead people

These two walked briskly past me.

Yangho Bridge (Yangho-daegyo/양호대교)

In other walk blogs, I've noted my superstitious fear of sitting on one of these weather-exposed couches, only to be eaten by the thousands of spiders that erupt out of it the moment I plump myself heavily down on the old, worn cushions. For one, brief second, though, I'd feel gloriously the way a mama spider feels as she's being consumed by her babies in a colossal act of matriphagy.

I once wrote a superhero story in college about a group of aliens who, tired of standing up all the time, invade the earth just to be able to access its couches.

Bye, Yangho Bridge.

boardwalk coming up

all the interesting and mysterious colors and shapes

"Danger! The depth of the water in this area is dangerous, so avoid aquatic-leisure activities and fishing."

top sign: a warning about slippage
bottom sign: 7% grade for 85 m, steep descent

11:34 a.m.

In terms of walking speed, the way it usually works for me is that I start off fairly optimistic and energetic in the early morning. By the halfway point of the day's segment, I'm feeling the effort more and have slowed down a wee bit, but it's during the day's final few kilometers that I really begin to lose energy; the graph of my robustness drops like a cliff after a long period of stability. Doing five kilometers at the beginning of the day feels like nothing; realizing I might have to do an extra 3-5K at the end of the day feels like a death sentence.

A convenience store where I usually stop and rest; today is no exception.

quaint garden on the property

cute mailbox made from... a propane tank?

The store has a lot of room on the inside but a surprisingly narrow selection of goods.

giant bonsai (Kor. bunjae/분재)

different tree, or a different angle?

onward

Gumi City continues to show off how big it is.

12:34 p.m.

Normal humans would be eating lunch about now. Not yours truly. I'm fueled up on carby drinks and snacks and ready to keep schlepping onward.

interesting house before I hit another boardwalk

another bunker/outbuilding

I wonder what fuels the decision to build boardwalks instead of bike trails on the ground. Maybe it's cheaper.

It's usually about the money.

Unlike Daegu, this area looks mostly litter-free.

stubby, little orb-weaver

a Korean friend of mine calls these "Vienna sausages"

Something hasn't completely dried yet, despite it being 12:45 p.m.

tributary

marshy bank

That fence design looks almost like a penny-farthing.

marshmallow fields forever

By now you've probably guessed that the hay bales come from threshed rice "straw" left out in the field in sheaves to dry. On occasion, the hay is in little piles instead of sheaves. When the bales are made by wrapping the hay into cylinders, you get these giant marshmallows.

progression of colors

nice: three lanes, including a pedestrian one

Big sky is a near-constant feature on this walk.

See what I mean?

Gumi Dam ahead; Haepyeongje right here; Chilgok Dam behind

Mantis adopts the yoga/Jedi ready position. Defend the leaf at all costs!

VIDEO: Mantis on the way to Gumi.

I still don't know what this mystery crop is.

crop, marshmallows, mountains, city, almost as if in layers

a digital zoom of the city

Gumi City, Haepyeong-myeon (myeon = township)

Earlier in the year, this hedge-like area would've been filled with shaman spiders.

more cows in the cow house, which in German is Kuhstall... I would've guessed Kauhaus. Ha ha.

zooming in closer...

greetings, ladies

How are you?

Some of them were singing rather stridently.

up ahead: the 5 Gongdan Bridge (Ogongdan-daegyo/오공단대교)

Normally a gongdan is an industrial complex, but I don't know what it is in this context.

Am I walking past the complex now?

Complex—there and gone. Back to farmland.

Ain't no avoiding the big sky.

almost at the Ogongdan-daegyo

As you see, it's another double bridge. Two bridges, one name.

another marker saying, "water-resource protection area"

tower and power lines and things

This could be a pipe and mounting for releasing excess gas. A bit like my ass, really.

VIDEO: Caterpillar/Larva 1.

I couldn't help wondering what this fat, little thing would taste like. But no, I didn't eat it.

Had I eaten it, my head would've been twice as large in shadow.

"Green City Gumi"

Gumi Dam, 10K away; Nakdan Dam (in Sangju), 29.4K away

Soongseon Bridge (Sungseon-daegyo/숭선대교), pic 1

Soongseon Bridge (Sungseon-daegyo/숭선대교), pic 2

under the bridge: these famous benches saying not to smoke and not to throw cigarette butts on the ground here (and to have a clear conscience thereby)

"No-smoking area; don't throw your cigarette butts and tissues (on the ground)."

"No-smoking area."

I'm doing the American thing and sticking to the left side since there's no pedestrian lane.

You might argue that the "pedestrian lane" is the strip of gravel on the right side, but I know from experience that walking on gravel leads to there being pebbles in my shoes. It's a terrible walking surface. So, no—that's not a pedestrian lane.

This almost looks like fencing you might see in America.

Gaia and Ouranos (Γαία και Ουρανός)

a small bridge to cross

Here... we... come...

covered irrigation channel

meandering crick

par-dessous le pont

Gumi Dam about 8.4K ahead; Nakseongje here (Gumi Haepyeong-myeon, Haepyeong-ri); Chilgok Dam (about 21K behind) 

A shi is a city; an eup is a town; a myeon is a township; a ri/li/ni is a village. Examples:

• shi/si: Seoul-si, Daegu jikhal-si, Busan gwangyeok-si, Yangsan-si, Andong-si
• eup: Hayang-eup, Hanam-eup, Namji-eup
• myeon: Burim-myeon, Nakseo-myeon, Haepyeong-myeon, Jibo-myeon
• ri/li/ni: Haepyeong-ni, Dogok-ni, Suyu-ri, Daeam-2li, Danho-ri

fence shadow

daisy fleabane, aster, something

Onward to Libertar!

Do you see the snake getting away?

quick little booger

I'm starting to feel how close I am to the end.

Reminder: After today, I move on to Sangju City, which marks the beginning of the end: At Sangju, I turn east and head straight for Andong City and, on the city's extreme east side, Andong Dam (beyond which is Andong Lake). That will be The Ende.

Tells a story, doesn't it?

"Information: In case of snow or rain, because accidents can happen, please refrain from using bike paths."

Yes! More dilapidation!

formerly a stage

This used to be a well-used property, almost like event grounds to be rented out.

I've been tempted to try the abandoned restroom, but I've never done it.

I did the abandoned-restroom thing in France when I was there in 2018.

fall colors

I had to wonder who lived here.

wide shot

last look

greenish sign: Gumi Haepyeong Youth Training Center
stone marker (far right): Bohyeon Temple (Bohyeon-sa/보현사)
street sign (up top, utility pole): Haepyeong 4th Street
blue sign: Yup, you're going the right way.

not taking the farm road

left = farm road; right = bike route

more quasi-penny-farthings

And who lives here?

they farm, apparently

I expect that gravestone to activate and start teaching us primates.

out to the river again

roughly, "Watch out for merging roads"

gravesite

in context

Ah, the open land.

Shwimteo come in all shapes and sizes. (I note with glee the garbage bag, where I can throw out trash.)

On these sorts of walks, it's the little things that make you happy.

Gumi Dam in the far, far distance

Zooming in gives one false hope; everything looks so much closer.

Second fat caterpillar/larva.

VIDEO: Caterpillar/Larva 2.

3:00 p.m. exactly

Danger Boy looks to be fading while Prudish Turtle continues to hide his nethers.
("Water depth is dangerous, so no fun in the water or fishing, etc., etc.")

how far away the dam really is

another case of hopeful zooming-in

Vader head on skinny neck

Danger Boy has morphed into something horrific.

Yes, I'm in the bike lane. Hey, the pedestrian lane is about to peter out. Sue me. (And nobody's out here.)

Also: up ahead is a restroom that I ended up using. I should've taken a picture of the restroom's awkwardly placed/designed door, which was hard to get through.

land, river, sky

By now, you recognize the towers holding the gears and chains to lift the sluice gates of a dam. Usually three of them.

The Vader head, popping up and doing Whack-a-Mole.

I have to pass under the big bridge to cross over the little bridge coming up.

See the little bridge?

The blue sign rams the point home.

Across I go.

looking one way

then the other

3.6K to the Gumi Dam certification center (not the same as the distance to Libertar Pension)

Libertar Pension is another few hundred meters after the cert center. I have to cross over the dam.

taunting

The persimmons, they tempt me. But I must not. They're probably not ripe. And it'd be theft of private property.

Oh, but they look so delicious (heart-shaped variety).

An empty building gives me hope for a sec that it might have a convenience store. But, no.

Another bus-stop-like shwimteo. Gumi Dam, about 1.6K ahead; Nakseonje, here (Gumi, Haepyeong-myeon, Sanyang-ni); Nakdan Dam, about 16K behind 

That's not right. We're advancing to the Nakdan Dam, which is in the opposite direction (i.e., it's ahead of us), and it's tomorrow's next stop. As I've said many times, you can't trust anything you read in Korea, especially signs about direction and distance. All you need is one half-asleep idiot to install the data on a sign backward, and bam—you're screwed. The Naver app, normally very reliable, occasionally betrays me as well (as we saw earlier today with the bridge crossing), but it's generally best to rely on the app and not to follow or believe the signs you see... unless you've done the trail enough times to know which signs are liars and which tell the truth.

Look at those raw-dogging hay bales! No condoms on them!

Shameless, in this day and age. Put on some protection!

land, water, sun, sky

Did I mention that this stretch has been breezy? It's quite nice as the sun starts its descent.

3:58 p.m. Shadows are getting longer. More plant life laid out alongside the trail.

What am I looking at? Two chairs and a bucket?

I'm left-lane-ing again given the lack of a pedestrian path. (Note: 국토종주!)

no longer a need to zoom

the red booth of the cert center

Gumi Dam Certification Center

A couple hundred meters across the dam, then another couple hundred meters, and I'll be at my destination.

the road below as I pass over the dam

No park golf here yet, thank the gods. But it's coming.

the setting sun

This would've been a perfect shot were it not for the person in it.

Young Anakin Skywalker hates sand for the same reason I hate people: They get everywhere when I'm trying to take a picture.

looking right and north

looking left and south

the floosh

Vader's assistants

constant aeration

hydropower-generation station

Why am I thinking of King Arthur's coconut-horse in The Holy Grail?

another Olympic-level fish ladder for fish trained by Sylvester Stallone

I have no idea what lies in that direction (right and north).

We need to stage a fight scene here.

looking left/south, toward my destination (not visible yet, but I see the admin building)

A closer shot of the admin building... I have to walk past that.

I've never done those stairs.

See the gravesite? You ought to be well-trained to see such things by now.

Behold

There, upon the mountainside...

admin building as I'm about to pass

My phone is just about out of power. The screen has darkened to save power, but I can still take pictures. I kind of have to fly by the seat of my pants for these last few moments.

looking left at a park

POSCO Family Park

POSCO is a huge Korean conglomerate—a multinational iron-and-steel company.

big font: Gumi Dam Business Office (the admin building)
small font: Nakdong River Admin Team

I walk uphill and first encounter the convenience store. I buy my cans of tuna and other food for dinner.

I'd prefer to stay here for two nights, but because I spent two nights in west Daegu, I'm staying here for only one night, and this despite having walked an arduous 33 km today.

It says, "Convenience Store/Café."

The friendly lady at the pension showed me to a different room from the one I normally get; it was just as nice. All of the pension's rooms are a bit beat-up looking, but at W100,000 a night, and given all of the space and features you get (this is a pension, not a mere motel), I think it's worth it. And besides, I'm too tired to think otherwise. If you're the kind of purse-lipped prude with a stick your ass who's always looking for something to complain about, then yeah, the Libertar might not be for you. But if you're easygoing and not an asshole, I think you might enjoy the ambience and the view.

(4:56 p.m.) speaking of which...

Here's my living room, and you can see the bokcheung/복층, or the loft-like second level.

The pension's design is based on the 90s-era generous notion of an officetel, a kind of apartment that's vertically spacious while not having much of a horizontal footprint. These days, the term officetel also refers to tiny little "shoebox" studio apartments like mine, so the term has "shrunk," semantically speaking. But for a single guy like me, this is plenty.

looking up at the bokcheung, which I won't be using

nice bathroom

And as you saw, the place has a kitchenette. There's also flatware and silverware, not to mention pots and pans, a rice cooker, a microwave, an electric tea kettle, and other facilities, including an electric fan (yay!) and many conveniently located electric sockets—one of the things I value most. This, to me, is heaven for a single night. 

I was here, at the Libertar, last year when my buddy Mike texted me in the morning (my time) from the States to ask what the hell was going on in Korea. The president had just declared martial law. Now here we are, a year later, and rightie President Yoon is gone, replaced by his rival and political opposite Lee Jae-myeong the leftie. Oh, well. That's what happens when you flip out and get all authoritarian. South Koreans don't like that strongman stuff, and Confucian-related protest culture has been a thing on the peninsula for centuries. Like it or not, Yoon is out, and Lee is in. It doesn't help that Korean voters are generally more fickle and pendular than Americans.

Meanwhile, there's this lovely view.

Because I don't want people in the parking lot to see me at night once I've gotten out of the shower, I lower the enormous blinds and call it an evening. As much as I love the view out the window, I love my privacy more, and I'm getting hungry. And I need a shower. And I need to write my blog entry. And I want to sleep. Need, need, want, want. All I do is kvetch.

one last peek outside

The day ended with dinner, a gratifying poop, hand-washed (and fan-dried) laundry, a shower, the re-dressing my poor feet, blogging, and the final crawl under a blanket to sleep on the living-room couch. Too bad I couldn't stay here a second night, but I had to get going the next morning.