Day 15, Leg 12

Let's quickly revisit an issue from a couple days ago. Here's a pic of a baby rattlesnake that I found off the internet:

And here's the pic that I took of a baby snake that I encountered while descending from the Ihwaryeong gate:

See why I was spooked?  Note how, in both cases, the front halves of the snakes seem to be covered in a patchwork pattern, and as you move toward the back halves, the pattern seems to become something more like tiger stripes.  The snakes have differences, of course (like head color), but still...

My buddy Charles wrote a comment saying that rattlers aren't native to Korea and are confined to the Americas.  I have no reason to question this.  But is it conceivable that rattlers might have been brought into the country?  The US has problems with invasive species:  the snakehead fish from China, the pet boas and pythons that end up being dumped in the Everglades, etc.  So why not Korea?  I'm not insisting that the snake I saw was indeed a baby rattler; I'm merely trying to get you into my headspace so you can see why I went straight to rattlesnake, in my mind, once I saw my snake's color pattern and twitching tail.

Let's talk about yesterday.  Yesterday sucked dead-baby ass.  On the bright side, I can now say that 44 kilometers is the longest distance I've ever walked while wearing a backpack.  Also on the bright side, I got to see an aspect of the countryside that you don't normally see from the perspective of the Four Rivers bike trail.  I guess I can add that the experience taught me something about myself and what I'm capable of. Aside from that, though, yesterday most assuredly sucked.

First, Naver Map routed me along lots of highways.  This was easily the most dangerous section of the walk that I've done.  Most of those highways had no shoulders, so playing dodge-the-traffic meant stepping onto the precarious edge of a steep berm or drainage ditch, then holding still while waiting for cars to pass.  Not fun.  

Second, there were the farm dogs, not all of which were chained up.  Most of the unchained dogs would bark insanely but respect the boundaries of their owners' property, but one evil, obsidian-colored dog actually walked quietly onto the street and followed me, growling menacingly.  While I consider myself a dog lover, I won't hesitate to kill any dog that tries to attack me.  If that one shrimpy little jogger (from the news a couple years back) could strangle a mountain lion to death, I'm pretty sure I could kill an attacking dog.  Maybe that would teach the owner to chain his dogs up from now on.

Third:  the hills.  There was an initial hill that had about the same degree of slope as the ascent to Ihwaryeong, but it wasn't five kilometers long, so I couldn't complain.  After that, the back roads took me along many random hills, none of which were particularly steep or challenging, but which became progressively more difficult to climb as time wore on and my endurance flagged.

Fourth:  desolation.  Once you leave municipal Mungyeong, that's it:  almost no shwimteo, no public restrooms, and no convenience stores.  All you have, as with the tree of the dark side of the Force, is whatever you take with you, so you'd better pray that you've brought along enough water.  (I did, thank Jeebus.)

Fifth:  pain and injury.  A hot spot began to glow under my left foot, right in the middle of the padded ridge just behind the toes.  By the time I applied the last of my Leukotape to it, it was too late:  I saw the white spot poking out from underneath the skin, and as the hiker's wisdom says, it's too late to tape up at that point.  I also had a pain in my right ankle that periodically caused my right leg to buckle, as well as a pain in my left knee.  I did what I could to minimize pain and pressure by limping gingerly, but in the end, there was little else that I could do.  By the time I made it to my destination, the Havana Motel near the Nakdan Dam, I was a gimpy mess.

Sixth:  lost sightseeing opportunities.  The regular walk, done over two days and involving a night of camping, would have taken me past the Sangju Dam.  I love every dam I pass, but my shortcut route kept me away (except for one short stretch) from any major watercourses.  I also missed the most momentous part of the walk:  the arrival at the huge "700 li" (칠백리) stone that proclaims you've officially made it to the Nakdong River portion of the Four Rivers trail.  I have pics of this stone in my previous walk blogs.

Seventh:  the dreariness.  I really didn't enjoy yesterday's walk, which was an interminable series of highways and hills and angry, barking dogs.  Far from being a pleasure, yesterday was work, and if you were to ask me, based on yesterday alone, whether I'd ever do this walk to Busan again, I'd give you a flat no.

The walk went from dark until dark.  I arrived in the Nakdan Dam region around 9 p.m., having left San Gwa Gang Pension (which was okay, despite the lack of a bed) at 5:45 a.m.  So, rest stops included, that's a travel time of about 15 hours, putting my average speed at less than 3 kph.  Ouch.  If we go by the 705 minutes of walking recorded on my pedometer, then my walking speed was a slightly more respectable 3.7 kph.

I arrived at my destination tired and pissed off.  I also got here right when I predicted I would, between 9 and 10 p.m.  My prediction had been based on a cynical evaluation of my own walking speed, and I took no pleasure in being proven right.  It was amazing to think about how the five-kilometer ascent up to Ihwaryeong had been a sheer joy during which time passed quickly, but the final four kilometers of yesterday's walk, despite being, at times, on flat ground, had been a sheer trudging misery.  I ran across a motel or two en route to my planned goal; it was very tempting to call it quits and just collapse into a nearby bed.  I decided to trudge onward.  Sitting inside a sheltered bus stop while the sun was setting and my phone was recharging, I noticed a sticker advertising a call-taxi service.  Again, I was sorely tempted, but I didn't give in to the demons of laziness and moral compromise.

My feet may have paid the price for my dedication, though.  I'm in a lot of pain right now, and I'm deliberately staying off my feet by typing this entry in bed.  That said, I'm dreading going out on the path tomorrow.  I'm also dreading an upcoming 42-kilometer walk about a week from now.  I'll be taking another day off after that walk as well; I can only hope my feet aren't any worse than they are now. 

My nose and hands are a casualty of the walk; Mother Nature has been slowly, inexorably microwaving my sun-exposed parts.  My nose is so scabbed over that the skin now feels leathery.  My left hand was covered in tiny blisters, something that has never happened during previous walks.  I popped all the blisters, so my hand is now covered in peeling skin.  Did I mention the huge blister on my right pinky toe?  I didn't even notice it until I was showering last night.   

Didn't get to sleep until very late, but I remembered to shut off the A/C before I lost consciousness. I recall murmuring "Bitch" as I was shutting the unit off.  I had opened my window before crawling into bed, though, and as it turned out, the cool night air did eventually creep in and partially counteract the heat of the building's boiler.  So I slept fairly well.

Today, I'm limping around my room like a cripple.  I'll be going up the street for a simple lunch in about an hour; after that, I'll be right back in my room, affording my poor, battered feet the maximum amount of rest.  I'll be relying on my Catholic protector, Saint Ibu of Profen, to help me dull the pain. 

Here are a few pics from yesterday's walk.  You'd never guess how miserable the walk was from the images you'll see below.  I think I've had enough of the unfamiliar; I'll be glad to be back on the proper bike trail from now until the end.  My upcoming 42K stretch won't be done in unfamiliar territory, thank Cthulhu:  that section, and the 32K section after it, are merely a fusion of what used to be three segments of the Four Rivers trail.  Maybe the familiarity will make those walks less painful.

Right:  photos.

We're at the two-week mark of a 29-day odyssey.  In terms of raw distance, I believe I passed the halfway point yesterday (332 km).  All that remains is the Nakdong River portion of the trail, but it's a damn long section, with several nasty hills of its own.  I've also got that 42K section to look forward to in about a week; here's hoping that that section doesn't totally destroy my feet.  Happily, I'll be back on familiar ground.