Day 20, Leg 14

Expect more tonight once I'm back in Seoul. 

3:00 p.m. (Nakdong River valley in the background)

 also 3:00 p.m. (Andong Lake in the background)

These are normally on-the-road entries, but I'm typing this final walk update from my apartment in Seoul. It was a cold, cold morning when I left Poongsan-eup (Songhak Motel) and headed out to Andong Dam. Even when the sun finally came out, it took a long time for the air to warm up. In fact, when I finally upload all of the photos for this day, you'll see that there's a huge gap where all the exciting stuff happened, and the visual narrative just skips over all that to what is essentially the last part of the walk. Sorry about that, but I simply couldn't move my fingers anymore. Strangely enough, clenching them wasn't as much as a problem as unclenching them was. This proved problematic not only for taking pictures but also for blowing my nose, which has been in constant drip mode since I restarted this walk.

I couldn't help but be happy on the last day, though, especially knowing that I'd end up at the magnificent Andong Dam. And since I'm aways thinking about food, I was also looking forward to having a nice, big, rib-sticking pizza at that pizzeria with the biblical name. I had to look the place up, in fact: it's called Goshen (Gosen/고센 in Korean). I'll have more to say about it soon.

Today's walk was a good variety of terrain, what with two big hills and the Dan Ho Bridge (단호교) that always makes me think it's a tribute to Don Ho. The route also went through a village called Dan Ho First Village (단호1리/Dan Ho 1-li). My favorite part of the walk is where I finally got to start photographing again: the long stretch along the Nakdong River where you pass under three or four bridges before crossing two smaller bridges meant for pedestrians and bikers. I somehow spaced out and failed to cross the second bridge, and I didn't catch my error until I was 500 meters along the wrong path, so we can add another kilometer to the path's original 27K distance. Also, that distance was calculated to the dam's certification center, which is almost a kilometer short of the dam. I also walked around that area quite a lot before going up to the dam, which is why you see the ridiculous step count for the day. That's obviously not a step count for a mere 27K.

Along that last part of the walk were also plenty of waterfowl. I don't know whether these birds—primarily ducks and loons—are migratory (Google's AI says yes, they normally are), but these ladies and gents didn't look as though they were going anywhere. What was also funny was how skittish they were around me: every time I raised my arm with the phone camera, they would take off en masse. It's as though the birds had evolved a hunter-avoiding instinct: a raised arm could mean a bow and arrow or a rifle. I learned, therefore, to turn away from the birds first, raise my arm, then slowly turn back toward them to get the shot I wanted. (These aren't the only birds that are skittish in this specific way: herons, cranes, and egrets are also on the alert for raised arms and for people who suddenly stop to take pictures.)

Thank goodness about the weather: I'm glad it never snowed while I was out on the path. The last three or four days of the walk had me thinking a lot about my poor hands. Even with gloves on, my fingertips were constantly cold, so I guess I need to look for gloves that protect the fingers better. Or maybe I should just switch to mittens. The glove I'd lost had a special pad on the index finger to allow one to use haptic interfaces without taking the gloves off. While nice, this was a clumsy business at the best of times since there was always some loose fabric at the fingertips. I've seen some recommendations to use belt and zipper clips as a way to keep gloves from falling and getting lost.

I arrived at the certification center around 2 p.m., walked around, eventually got to the foot of the dam, and found the stairs leading up to the observation deck level with the top. Was there a "no trespassing" sign last time? If so, I don't remember it, but it was there this time. I also think my balance may be deteriorating: I don't recall it being so difficult to mount the stairs or to climb the short switchback trail two years ago. This time around, I was a bit nervous as I climbed up, fearful that I might fall at any moment. The stairs were basically slats, and you could see between them, which isn't great if you have a thing about heights. Still, I swallowed my fear and ascended slowly and carefully. There was no one else around, after all—an experience I'd had a lot in the early mornings and whenever I was passing through farmland. Many portions of this walk were, in fact, an introvert's paradise. Anyway, I made it to the top of the dam and took some time to marvel at the view. If you live in Korea and have never been atop the Andong Dam, I highly recommend the experience. It's not as breathtaking as, say, the Hoover Dam, nor is it as tall as the Alps, but it has its own charm and beauty.

Avoiding the urge to shutterbug the same scenes I'd captured two years ago, I went down the other side of the dam to Goshen Pizzeria, muttering to myself about how the place had better not be closed. Goshen's sign was on the main street, but the resto itself was up a driveway, tucked away from view. Maybe that sort of thing works for high-end restaurants, but as I discovered, Goshen was far from high-end. The restaurant's interior was plausibly Western, right down to the smell of the place. Ordering was via the trendy touch screen, which everyone seems to have adopted, fortunately or unfortunately. With no server to mess up an order, it's now up to the cooks and food runners to get things wrong. Since I was the only customer in the place (it was around 3:40 p.m., an awkward time for meals), the order came out perfectly: a "diavolo" pizza, which was basically a pepperoni pizza with some arugula and sliced onions strewn across the top. I also got a Coke.

The Coke ended up being the best thing about the meal. All praise to however they're handling soft drinks. If this was tap, it was a good mix of syrup and fizzy water. Aside from that, the pizza was frankly horrible. Horrific. A small, one-person pizza came out (there were no size options when I ordered), and while it initially looked nice, that illusion ended the moment my spatula sawed into the pizza to enable me to pull out a slice. The crust was thin, and as limp as a wet dishrag. Dave Portnoy, who always looks at a slice's "undercarriage" first, would have had a fit. The pepperoni slices were from that shitty Korean pepperoni; the cheese tasted as if it had come out of a bag, and the whole thing had the stink of a frozen pizza quickly thrown in the oven and then thrown on a plate. An afterthought. That may have been one of the worst pizzas I've ever had. Still, I lied when I paid my bill and told the cashier that I'd eaten well. But mark my words: I will never be back. One good thing did happen, though: on my way out the door, I met what I assume is the pizzeria's dog, a friendly little guy wearing a cute sweater. He hesitated a bit before coming up to me; I bent over and let him sniff my hand, then I scratched his head and petted him. I may have made an instant friend; as I walked toward the property's exit, the dog tried to follow me before it finally stopped and realized that I, like so many others before me, would be gone for good. I did at least get a couple pics of the dog.

As the sky darkened, I snapped more shots on my way down the side of the hill from the dam. Once I was back in town, I used my Naver Map app to try to figure out how to get a local bus to the Andong express-bus terminal. The app said I'd need to walk 40 minutes to a different bus stop from the one I'd been standing at, so I said "Fuck it" and used Kakao Taxi to summon a taxi to take me to the terminal. Once there, I used an automatic ticket-dispensing machine to purchase a ticket for a 6:30 p.m. bus. This gave me time to take a gratifying piss; the bus arrived in short order, and after having spent days with freezing hands, I spent the entire bus ride cozy and warm, with my hands jammed firmly into my jacket's pockets as I nodded off.

And that's how my roughly 403K walk from Busan to Andong ended, on a note of contentment. Give me a day to rest, then I'll work on the trip's postmortem, after which I'll upload all of the rest of the pics for the latter half of the trip. I'll write captions and commentary, too, and if I play my cards right, I'll get all of this done before Christmas. Check back periodically to see if/when any uploads, captions, and commentaries have happened.

more like 30-some kilometers... see the step count below

It was a lot of kilometers, but not 42.99 (a little more than a marathon, which is 42.2K).

L to R: the triumvirate of Sirius, Betelgeuse, and Jupiter

The view from the top of the first big hill; I'd forgotten that the second hill is worse.

two gloves caught mating

another hornet's nest, higher up this time

Final stretch along the Nakdong! Is this a species of weeping willow?

the view from the first bridge crossing near the end

Mr. Mallard (you know he's a he by his green head; females are brown)

the 7-story brick pagoda

What does an octopus have to do with a fresh-water river? And what's that tiny thing on its head?

the view downriver from the observation deck by the dam

EPILOGUE: I've showered, done laundry, and re-bandaged myself. I no longer smell, but I do need a haircut. I trimmed my beard, though, so at least that's under control. Back to work Wednesday morning.

PHOTO ESSAY