This morning, I finally decided to show some character and wake up early, as though I were walking across the country. Doing that is hard when I'm not on a trans-Korea walk. I seem to have a "city mode" and a "country mode," and when necessary, I can switch back and forth between them. So I took my meds, then went out. Based on my walk a few days ago, I knew the morning would be cool, but the coolness was helped by the clouds. It was around 18ºC (64ºF), and by the time I was done, I doubt the temps had risen past 20ºC (68ºF). A very pleasant walk. Unlike my last walk, I decided to document this one, so enjoy the short photo essay.
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| ramp up to the footbridge taking me out of my neighborhood |
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| looking east-ish at Jamshil |
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| the ramp down to the bike trail |
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| giving a little photo-love to the tiny flowers |
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| maybe a type of fleabane |
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| I'm gonna call these carp mudfish from now on. They're stately, but I bet they taste like dirt. |
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| a bunch of bridges and ramps as I walk alongside the Tan Creek (right side, not visible) |
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| I still can't get over this new-ish rest area, not even a year old. |
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| As soon as I could, I skipped over to the long, long parking lot to get away from bikers and walkers. |
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But a dude got out of his car, and we walked together the same way at roughly the same pace, so I moved to the walking path. I hate it when that happens: Some random person pops out and starts walking along the path next to you, or just in front, or just behind, and now it feels as though we're walking together. Introverts can't stand invasions of personal space. |
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| This "temporary" set of offices is starting to feel permanent. |
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| looking across at one of the Olympics-era arenas |
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| 'nuther mudfish, Tan-cheon this time and not the Yangjae-cheon |
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| tickseed/Coreopsis |
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| getting close to the 5K mark, my turnaround point, where the Tan-cheon meets the Han-gang (Han River) |
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| on a bright, sunny day, there's no shade and no mercy here |
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| Some sort of landscaping is happening, though. |
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| The spray-painted warning says, "Slow." |
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| Workers assembled for their morning exercises. |
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| table for two in the midst of it all |
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| I imagine the pillar is a harbinger for an eventual ramp. |
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| The U-turn point cometh. |
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| This gap in the orange, plastic posts is where I normally turn around. |
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| heading back |
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| crossing a different bridge over the Tan-cheon |
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| Normally, I cross to the other side, then keep going until I'm at the parking lot, then I turn left. |
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| looking north toward the receding Han |
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| I wonder when that low bridge will finally be done. I might be dead by then. |
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| looking straight ahead |
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| looking left and stadium-ward |
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| I'd been meaning to photograph the incredible amounts of clover for a while now. |
Rabbits would have a field day in my part of town. So much clover.
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| two rental bikes, down for the count |
There are so many rental-bike companies in Seoul now, and I've signed up for none of them.
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| "Toward Yeongdong 2nd Bridge; bike path; one way" |
It always amuses me that one way is just two syllables in English, but it's four syllables in Korean: il bang tong haeng/일방통행/一方通行, i.e., "one direction pass-through travel." Korean is normally a compact language when it wants to be, but sometimes, it overstretches in its desire for precise expression. I bet Koreans would perfectly understand just il bang/일방/一方, i.e., "one direction." I should start a campaign.
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At the confluence of the Yangjae-cheon and the Tan-cheon. The spray-painted sign says, "Walking path. Walk right." Every motherfucker ignores this, which is partly why I wrote that short story about angry Marv. |
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| the final berm before the footbridge back to my neighborhood |
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| At night in this locale, there are lots of cats. I think they come out because people have been feeding them. |
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| A glimpse farther down the berm's path and up the ramp to the footbridge. |
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| the footbridge in all of its footbridginous glory |
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| It's too small and short to shake a lot. |
I have a friend who's absolutely terrified of shaky footbridges.
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| the ramp back down, with my building waaaaay up ahead on the right |
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| trumpet vine? |
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| back in my neighborhood |
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| flowers, already beaten down by the heat |
And the heat's only going to get worse.
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| roses, also looking tired |
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| the final stretch to my place |
There are two or three parks in my neighborhood, all of them nice, all of them well used by walkers and kids needing a place to play basketball or to skate around. Biking is technically not permitted in any of these parks, but of course, that injunction is ignored.
It was a good walk this morning. My alarm woke me up at 4:30; my original plan had been to get out of my building by 4:45 a.m., but I slept in for an hour before my conscience nagged at me enough to persuade me to get out of bed. Very often, when the desire to walk and the desire to sleep conflict, laziness wins, and I sleep a little or a lot more. By 5:45 a.m., it was light outside; had I started an hour earlier, I'd have enjoyed a few minutes of predawn darkness before the first lightening.
As summer continues its relentless march, though, it's going to become hard to decide whether to walk in the early morning or late at night. Early morning, starting while it's dark, might be best because the earth will have had time to cool during the night. Starting at 8 p.m., by contrast, means the earth will have had only a couple hours of cooling after a brutally hot day. Yeah, early morning is probably best. I wonder if this is why Korean Buddhist monks wake up around 3 or 3:30 a.m.
