Jungnang-cheon walk

Well, JW and I managed 22K of what was supposed to be a 28K walk along the Jungnang Creek, but we were stopped by rain around 3 p.m., so we left the trail and headed over to Dobongsan Station, sitting down for some local Chinese food before taking the subway home. This was a new walking route for both of us, so we spent some time sniffing around and not going as fast as we could have (JW is also still dealing with foot pain, despite now being a veteran distance walker, so we took several rest breaks for his screaming feet). A good walk in all, even if it was shorter than anticipated. I took some pictures. 

This first one was taken while I was in the subway and on my way to Oksu Station. Living in Korea, I'm always confronted with weird attempts at English-like words that often sound off-putting to the anglophone ear, but that apparently work for the Korean ear (which isn't sensitive to the way strange English sounds to a native speaker). Note how the ad below is for a product called "Toxnfill," which to me sounds as if someone is being filled with toxins:

A photo of yours truly while I was near Oksu Station and awaiting JW's arrival:

Walking along Jungnang Creek:

A stone bridge (probably rebuilt many times) whose history dates back to the 1400s:

The history of the bridge:

Puke graffito:

More Korean love of abstract sculpture:

And more still (is that one booby poking out?):

At the point photographed below, JW and I had a choice of two parallel paths, and we chose the bridge, which turned out to be the better choice (the other path was older, more boring-looking, and farther away from the water):

Interesting pergola/shwimteo:

Some signs indicating distances to various places:

An archery field (if "field" is the right word):

Naver suggests "archery pavilion" as a translation for gungdojang:

JW ends up in this pic of an archery sculpture (again, if "sculpture" is the right word):

Most of the creek path was like this as we walked relentlessly north:

Gunja Bridge, one of many, many bridges we passed:

This was a very urban path. Noisy traffic and large buildings were never far away.

"Use a leash! Bring a poop bag!" Even if you can't read Korean, the meaning of the sign below ought to be fairly obvious:

Another shot of JW, who was weird about wearing or not wearing his mask:

I had to get a shot of this below, which was a problem for both of us: portable toilets that were all closed up, apparently as a precaution against flooding. JW and I, at different times during the walk, both got the urge to use the facilities, and as we passed these huge, trailer-sized porta-potties, our frustration mounted. JW eventually had to break away from the trail, trudge through a neighborhood, and find a shopping complex. Later on, I gamely followed signs to a nearby subway station that had public facilities (which were nice, by the way). Both of us ended up dropping a few kids off at the pool, if you will. Leaving little families everywhere. It's one of the hazards of distance walking. Luckily, Korea isn't Europe, where you'd better have some loose change in your pocket should you need to do some business. Europe... land of pay toilets. Anyway, here's one of those porta-potties, all locked up:

This is apparently some sort of photo-op zone:

So JW insisted on getting a pic of himself with which to taunt his daughter (he's supposed to look as if he's handing a fifty to a toucan), who is housebound and working on her school stuff, unable to go out and play while JW and I enjoy a walk:

Soccer in a cage (one way to keep balls from flying into the creek):

Both pretty and ugly, a slick of algae (with the bonus of some pollution):

Looking backward at a bicycle track that's laid out a lot like one of those Korean-style driver's-license courses for cars:

Korea has mallards. Here's a husband and wife:

Burdz:

Welcome to the Noweon District! "Healing Noweon," it says. Healing no one:

Graffito:

The dog's look is priceless:

JW tried to explain to me what "Arisu" was all about. Near as I can figure, it's some sort of clean-water campaign (or ad?) about the quality of the city's water. The Ari part is a pure-Korean word meaning "purity" or "cleanliness" (I think); the su is from Chinese: su/수/水 means "water." This has nothing to with 90s trans sensation Harisu.

More ramps and straightaways:

I'm struck by the wooden bench:

Mother and child:

The eodo ("fish-ways"), or fish ladders:

One thing I noticed, as we walked toward Uijeongbu, was the general lack of military facilities this close to the DMZ. That felt a bit weird. I got used to seeing barbed wire, bunkers, and other reminders of South Korea's alert status during my east-coast walk last year. Uijeongbu is itself famous for its military orientation, so I was maybe unconsciously expecting signs of national defense as we got closer. But there was nothing.

JW had already taken his bathroom break, and right about here, I was finishing up my own break (during which I texted JW about giving birth to a son whom I'd decided to name Schitt):

Back on the path and still heading unfailingly north:

The most ignored sign in Korea has got to be ucheuk bohaeng, i.e., "walk on the right side." Not to put too fine a point on it, but Koreans ignore this signage left and right:

Now leaving Noweon. But if you've left no one, then no one can be sad:

A reminder of all the things you can't do creekside:

JW with another daughter-taunting picture:

And another:

I had to get a pic of this impromptu-looking bridge:

Huge eodo:

Jinggeom-dari (stone footbridge) in the distance:

A closer shot:

And an even closer shot:

A goofy duck family and a ridiculously happy couple:

JW, again with the daughter-taunting:

"You, sitting here, are the prettiest":

I'd love to use the exercise equipment below if my shoulder allowed it. Do I call this a pullup machine or a pull-down machine? Either way, it uses leverage to make the job of pulling yourself up (or pulling the bar down) easier:

One last shot of the path right as it began to rain:

We veered off the path and into town. We were right by Dobongsan Station (do-bong-san = Tao peak mountain) and hungry after 22 kilometers' walking, and while we'd originally wanted some Uijeongbu budae-jjigae (since Uijeongbu is the reputed home of that stew), we settled for Chinese, which is what you see next:

This restaurant's claim to fame is its use of rice flour instead of regular wheat flour. Rice flour is gluten-free, which is good news for the gluten-intolerant and the celiac-ridden. Otherwise, I know from my keto-related studies that you could never call rice-flour noodles nutritious or good for you because they still contain a truckload of carbs. Aware of this fact, I ate the meal, anyway: jjajang-myeon, tangsuyuk, jjambbong, and gunmandu (fried mandu). It was good, and it didn't taste much different from wheat flour (except maybe for the tangsuyuk, which is a holdover from a few years ago when rice-flour tangsuyuk was suddenly all the rage). JW paid before I realized what was happening, so he told me to treat him later. That's how it often is between friends: we don't keep special track of who pays when, but it usually works out that we both treat each other about the same amount.

JW liked the jjajang-myeon so much that he ordered some jjambbong:

Here's the mostly eaten tangsuyuk, bathed in a light, fruity sauce:

Signs proudly talking about the rice flour/gluten-free thing:

The menu:

I guess this is the restaurant's name (Rice Jjambbong):

We had first stopped in a place advertising unlimited servings of pork, but they wanted a vaccine-pass check, and since I'm unvaccinated, that was a no-go. But JW and I both knew that most Chinese places don't give a fuck, so we went Chinese. The balloon-sign below advertises the rice jjajang, but at the stairs, you see the words for "rice jjambbong." Are either of these the restaurant's name, or is the name something else entirely? Couldn't tell you.

So yes, the walk ended when it started raining at 3 p.m., otherwise we'd have gone the remaining 6 km to Uijeongbu Station. Getting on at Dobongsan Station, Line 7, was nice, though, because Dobongsan is the second-to-last station, meaning the train was nearly empty when we stepped on to head back into Seoul (I think we had technically made it across the border into Uijeongbu... actually, no: Naver says Dobongsan Station's address is still in Seoul). I fell asleep during the ride back, and when I woke up, JW had already gotten off at his transfer point. My own transfer point to Line 3, Express Bus Terminal Station, was a bit farther down the line, but I was awake in time to make my transfer and endure the ride home while nursing a swollen bladder. I had pissed once in some tall reeds during the walk, then I did a bigger deed later in the walk, but I had filled my tank with paper cups of water at the Chinese restaurant, so I was raring to evacuate again by the time I got back to my apartment. 

Once inside my own place, I sat down on the pot to micturate (yes, I'm a sit-and-pisser, so come at me with your insults), but right as I started to relieve myself, another brown snake leaped out of my ass, surprising me with its size and enthusiasm. My guess is that these were the remains of yesterday's prodigious lunch. Karma follows you wherever you go.

We'll have to do this walk again, JW and I, and maybe make it all the way to Uijeongbu Station next time, preferably when the weather is warmer and less prone to rain.