Ruminations in Korea

Four months ago we planned to ride to Jeonju, but it got rained out by a very serious storm. Two months ago, we planned to ride to Jeonju, but it got rained out by the Summer monsoon rains. This month, we planned to ride to Jeonju, and woke to overcast skies.

Pony and I rode down from Seoul to Pusan the previous weekend after the Chuseok holiday. We made record time going door to door in 7.5 hours. I went back to work, and Pony took a vacation for a week in Pusan.

The Pusan contingent intended to leave around 10:00 am on Saturday morning and arrive in Jeonju around mid-afternoon. The Seoul contingent planned to leave Seoul around 8:00pm Saturday and arrive in Jeonju around 1:00 am Sunday morning. As the lines from the Robert Burns poem go,”the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry.”

Pony and I met up at Amby’s restaurant across from Pusan Station around 9:30 am to enjoy a delicious classic egg breakfast before hitting the road.

Although the weather reports had between 60% and 100% chance of rain, we were optimistic that the weather would hold. The weather held…for about 10 minutes. While eating breakfast, the rain started falling.

We ate our breakfast and, as we were not pressed for time, we decided to wait a while to see if it stopped raining before we hit the road. After about an hour, the rain stopped and we were able to take off.

We headed Westward out of Pusan on highway 2 through Jinhae and into Masan, where we turned at the 5-point intersection just inside the city and rode past the Homever store on the right and Masan Stadium on the left and continue on to highway 5. Unfortunately, there is nothing that can be done about that 1.5 hour stretch of road from downtown Pusan through Masan and up Highway 5 toward Changryeong. It is the fastest, most direct, and one of the very few ways out ofthe city.

We stopped at the Homever store to pick up some extra bungee cord to secure Pony’s bag. While there, our eyes caught a rack of inexpensive, clip-on drink holders. Figuring that it may be amusing to see if we could install beverage holders on our bikes in order to cut down rest stops by drinking on the fly, we picked a couple of them up.

Outside again, we bungeed Pony’s bags more securely, hooked up our drink holders and roared of into the early afternoon cloubs. As an aside, I think that the drink holder is an amazing piece of equipment for long-distance riding and will use it regularly. Pony, on the other hand, doesn’t like it and took his off even before reaching Jeonju.

We continued on highway 5 to Changryeong, where we turned onto highway 24 and headed West again until we arrived at the small town of Hapcheon.

There is a little convenience store and gas station just across the bridge into town that makes a convenient rest stop. After fueling up, stretching the legs, and grabbing a quick snack, it was time to mount up again. As another aside, if possible, use another gas station for fueling up in Hapcheon, because the woman at the convenience store / gas station is perhaps the worst gas pumper in the known universe. I have filled up there three times, and each time has resulted in gas overflowing all over my tank and flowing onto my blazing hot engine, which the woman apparently finds laugh-worthy.

We got back on our bikes and continued on highway 24 (which merges with highway 26 a short distance outside of Hapcheon). We rode the incredibly scenic route along the gorge above Hapcheon lake into Geochang.

The skies had withheld their life-giving moisture up to this point, the but skies were darkening further. We kept on highway 26, making as much time as we could through Anui, into Jangye, and continuing northwest toward Jinan.

Outside Jinan, we passed a large run down Catholic church out in the middle of nowhere. It appears broken and dilapidated, but there were some windows open. I’m not sure whether or not the church is still in use.

A little bit of online research showed that it was built in 1966 to commemorate the 200th anniversary of the martyrdom of a Korean Catholic who refused to deny his faith. He was later sainted.

As we arrived in Jinan, the rain started to fall. We made a dash to the closest gas station where we sought shelter. We had almost made it to Jeonju. If the rain had held for another 20 minutes, we would have made it nice and dry.

We stayed at the gas station for about 90 minutes before the rain had stopped and the roads were dry enough to travel. The last dash for Jeonju was cut short after about 3 kilometers as the rain started again, forcing us under an overpass for shelther.

Mercifully, the rain stopped and we were able to get back out on the road after about 20 minutes. Although the roads were still a little wet,the fog and mist rolled in from the mountains. However, the sun was beginning to show through the clouds.

We passed, quite literally, over the bosom of the mountains and into the valley where Jeonju sits.

Pony was happy to be in Jeonju where he had lived and worked before. Following his lead, we rode through town toward Jeonbuk University. We found some excellent rooms in a love motel for 50,000 won (about $50). We managed to talk the owners down from 60,000 won a night.

After showering, we climbed aboard the bikes and headed back up the road to the university. We found a great restaurant that served spicy chicken stir fry.

After dinner, it was getting close to the time when the Seoul group was supposed to be leaving for their ride to Jeonju. Heretic was supposed to ride down with Achilles, but Achilles was still drinking from the day before and was in no condition to make the ride. As it was dark, still threatening rain, and as Heretic would have had to make the ride alone, we decided to err on the side of caution by telling Heretic that it simply wasn’t worth risking his life to come down alone. We told him to sit this one out.

Pony and I spent the rest of the evening hanging around and enjoying the quiet nightlife that Jeonju has to offer. Pony seemed to enjoy himself back in his old stomping grounds.

I had to get back to Pusan early on Sunday morning, so I woke up early and made a dash to Pusan. I arrived safely home 4.5 hours after leaving the hotel.

Pony, on the other hand, was a little slower waking up. He stayed all day in Jeonju, visiting some of the places he used to work and roam before making the 3 1/2 trip to from Jeonju to Seoul.

20 September 2008 - Jeonju Run

For more pictures of the ride to Jeonju, click here.

I had a very nice ride from Pusan to Donghae with my Club (Rotten Dead MC) and some new friends last weekend.  The trip is about 7 hours one way from Pusan at a leisurely pace.  The first day and a half of the ride were great.  It was the last couple of hours that sucked.

As we were coming back from Donghae along Highway 7, we were only a few kilometers north of Pohang when my bike suddenly died. It just died. It stopped working.  The engine would turn over, but it wouldn’t start.  Nothing I could do on site could change that.

I had to call my bike shop and have them drive two hours to come and pick me up and bring me back to Pusan.  As it was beginning to rain a little, I sent the other guys on home ahead of me.  No sense in getting everyone else miserable and wet.

I eventually got back to Pusan at around midnight on Sunday night.  They began working on my bike first thing Monday morning.

If your motorcycle ever looks like this, chances are that there are big, BIG problems. This is the guts of my bike as people desperately try to get to the bottom of the problems.

They folks at the shop searched for the problem for three days.  They checked everything including oil, bad gas, fuel injection sensor, the entire electrical system, the heads, the valves, the cylinders, and just about everything else they could think of, but nothing seemed to be wrong.  So, half out of desparation and half out of nothing else to look at, they opened the cam cover.  That’s when they noticed a problem.

A healthy cam will have two dots in perfect alignment, on the gear and one on the shaft. Look at this cam here. Nice and pretty, with those dots so nicely aligned. Couldn’t be prettier.

On the other hand, a cam should never, EVER look like this. Notice the two dots out of alignment and about 90 degrees apart.

This should so never happen that I had no idea that it was even possible to look like this.  I thought the gear and the shaft were a single piece of steel.  Not only have I never heard of this happening, I have never heard of anyone who has heard of this happening.  Even the Harley-Davidson Korea parts manager did not believe that this could happen.

This little 90 degree turn is bad.  It does bad things to to your cam chain operation, which does bad things to the pressure in the cylinders, which does bad things to valves, which does bad things to cylinders, which does bad things to heat sensors, which causes a LOT of money to be spent fixing the aforementioned problems.

The guys at the shop re-aligned the gear and shaft and immobilized them with a pin so that they can never again rotate like that.  They spent the next two days putting my bike back together.

I got my bike back late Friday night, with a bill for a fixed cam, replaced heat sensor, oil change, all new fluids, a new tank of gas, pickup costs, and labor for five full days. The total bill was KRW 1,100,000 (approximately USD 1,000).

I rode home, parked it and began packing for another ride tomorrow.

Epilogue:  I think the Donghae ride is cursed.  Almost one year ago to the day, we were riding back from Donghae when my belt drive snapped, leaving my bike dead and me stranded…Belts are not SUPPOSED to break.  It is extremely difficult to break a drive belt.  The belt snapped only a few kilometers from where my cam gave out this year.  We had to wait for the truck in the dark and rain.  The circumstances were so similar that I have cancelled the Donghae rides forever and ever.  I’m never riding there again.

Summer riding in Korea can be quite tricky. There are several factors that can potentially complicate any planned ride. The main ever-present variables are potential rainstorms that can develop within the space of a few hours, typhoons, and the intense heat combined with humidity.

This particular ride was delayed for two weeks due to torrential rain on the originally scheduled day. Even hours before this ride, I wasn’t sure whether or not the rain falling across the country would stop or at least have enough breaks that it wouldn’t be constantly raining all weekend long.

Mercifully, the rain stopped early Saturday morning, but the skies remained dark, heavy, and overcast.

When planning each long distance ride, I try to take as many new roads as possible. As Pusan is located in the very Southeast corner of Korea and surrounded by ocean on two sides and a wide river one side, there are only a few roads that you can take to get out of town. However, once you get out into the countryside, a vast spidery network of roads opens up.

As I was on no particular schedule and no particular deadline, I decided to begin my trip by taking the scenic route out of Pusan.

At 2:00 pm, I rode north out of Pusan on highway 35 following the course of subway line 2. The last stop on subway line 2 is Hopo Station. Directly across the street from Hopo Station is a small road that turns Northwest into the countryside. Highway 35 is the dividing line between Pusan and the rest of Korea.

Just before I got to Hopo Station, some guy that was in the left turn lane suddenly darted back into traffic right in front of me. He did not signal or offer any other indication that he was going to jump on the accelerator and leap into my lane. I laid on the horn and heaved my bike into the next lane, thereby avoiding an accident.

As I pulled up along side of the car, I saw that the guy was talking on his mobile phone. At the next street light, I pulled up to his car again and told him to hang up his phone and pay attention to what he was doing. He then did something that I absolutely hate with a passion. He held up his hand and nodded at me.

This gesture angers me more than any other Korean driver behavior. The gesture means “i’m sorry for being an idiot and almost killing you.” This little hand flash and nod, sometimes accompanied by a tight, forced smile is supposed to make everything better, and the receiver of the sign is supposed to give their unconditional forgiveness to the jerk. I cannot play that game. That gesture just infuriates me. If it was an accident or something like that, then it’s ok. However, when the action that precipitated the need for the gesture is a deliberate act by someone who doesn’t think they need to pay attention to anyone else on the road, then it sets me off.

I loudly asked him if that little hand gesture was supposed to make everything ok. I asked whether that little hand gesture would bring me back to life if I had ended up slamming into the side of his car and dying. I yelled at him for cutting in front of me and talking on his phone while driving. I yelled at him for nearly causing an accident and told him to hang up his phone and watch what he was doing so that he didn’t kill somebody. Rather than saying he was sorry, he actually started yelling at me about being an ignorant foreigner. I laughed. The light turned green and I continued on my way.

As I arrived at Hopo Station and was waiting in the left turn lane, the guy pulled up along side of me and started screaming at me about how he didn’t try to hit me and how I had no right to yell at him. After every sentence, I would say “why are you yelling at me? Did I do something wrong? It’s your fault.”

After about 15 seconds of this, he challenged me to a fight. He demanded that I pull over so he could fight me. I laughed loudly and said, “Look. I didn’t do anything wrong. You did. I should be forcing you off the road and beating you up. Why do you think I should waste my time pulling over for something you did?” Then, he started cursing and turning purple.

I turned left onto the small road across from Hopo Station, but the guy didn’t follow, so I continued on my way. Within two minutes, I was riding parallel to the railroad tracks through farming country toward the very small village of Mulgeum.

Navigating through the Mulgeum stretch of road can be quite confusing for the first-time visitor. To get into Mulgeum, you must follow the road down a very steep dip in the road with a couple of speed bumps at the bottom and up the other side of the dip. Then you ride a few minutes more before coming to a second dip in the road. However, at the bottom of this second dip, you turn right and pass under the train tracks and up into Mulgeum.

When I say that Mulgeum is a small village, I mean that it is very small. Riding at slow speed, you can pass through the entire village in about thirty seconds. Once you pass through the intersection in Mulgeum (Yes. THE intersection. There is only one main intersection in town), the road gets a bit confusing at the signs are not that clear.

After passing through the intersection and riding to the northern edge of the village, the main road continues on out of town toward Yangsan. However, there is a smaller road that sort of branches off to the left. Take the smaller road to the left and once you are on that road, you want to take the first left and follow the road up a very steep hill and turn left at the top of the hill onto local road 1022. If you are on a scooter, small bike, or are not an expert at clutching and throttling on steep inclines, you should continue along the smaller road for a few more seconds until you can take a hairpin turn to the left onto a road that heads up the mountain. This puts you on local road 1022.

On this ride, I followed 1022 up over the mountain and down the other side and through the village of Wondong.

The road continues toward Samnangjin village and passes over another mountain.

Coming down out off the mountain, I always enjoy the view of Samnangjin Dam off in the distance.

I stayed on 1022 straight into downtown Samnangjin.

Near the main intersection of the village, there is an elementary school with a fairly large grocery store across the street. I often stop there to stretch my legs, have a bottle of water, and take a bathroom break. However, on this day, I decided to continue on through Samnangjin without stopping.

Highway 1022 came to an end in Samnangjin and turned on to highway 58 and rode under the train tracks on my way toward Miryang. Highway 58 quickly climb up into the mountains and the ride down affords a beautiful view of the Nakdong River valley.

I rode into Miryang and stopped for a short rest at the convenience store next to the train station as I always do. While stopped, a few stray raindrops fell on my tank.

After re-hydrating myself, I took off through Miryang and eventually came to the sign pointing me left onto highway 24. Highway 24 continues on level ground for quite a while before climbing a relatively big mountain by way of a very fun series of twisties.

This road up Cheonwangsan mountain is very popular with sportbike riders because of the twists and turns. On any weekend with good weather, you can find dozens to hundreds of sportbikers racing up and down this road. The road bears the marks of numerous motorcycle accidents as peoples’ bikes have lost their grips on the road going around the corners.

At the top of the mountain on the left-hand side of the road is a little restaurant that serves excellent noodles and Korean onion and seafood pancakes (Haemul Pajeon…or if you don’t speak Korean, just say “Korean Pizza” and the ladies will understand.). This restaurant is a MUST stop location. The food is excellet, the outdoor seating is right on the edge of a cliff that lets you enjoy the spectacular scenery of the valley and the winding road below.

By the time I finished what was to be my dinner, it was 5:00 pm, and the clouds were darkening around me. It was time to get moving.

I rode down the mountain and through the town of Changnyeong. Staying on 24, I followed the road along a river and through some cool wetlands. Eventually, the road crossed the river and ran along the other bank of the river into the town of Hapcheon.

At Hapchoen, highway 24 makes a quick turn northward toward the town of Goryeong and toward Haeinsa Temple. However, after a few minutes on highway 24, I turned westward and headed toward the city of Geochang. It was starting to get dark.

In my opinion the 20 or 25 minute ride between Hapcheon and Geochang is among the most beautiful stretches of road I have seen. It starts at Hapchoen lake.

The road runs for several miles along the top of a river valley.

It is a very captivating ride.

It is a very raw, primitive stretch of road with rough, tree-covered mountains rolling off into the distance, and lush greenery lining the meandering river.

Eventually, the valley ends and highway 24 runs back into the mountains.

It began to rain before I reached and passed through Geochang.

A short distance later, highway 24 reached the small village of Anui. By this time, it was dark. At Anui, I turned onto highway 26.

Traveling West on highway 26 the road runs down out of the mountains in a series of tight switchbacks that must be taken slowly in order to avoid mishap. The rain had stopped, but the roads were wet and slippery.

Highway 26 reached the town of Janggye and I peel off northward onto highway 19 toward Muju and eventually to the town of Youngdong.

The ride up highway 19 is an easy and relaxing ride through moutains and famland in the daytime.

However, at night, and expecially on a dark, rainy, cloud-covered night it is black.

There are no light source from anywhere except other cars, but they are very far and few between. Thus, in the blackness of highway 19, the only world that exists is the world moving through the cast of the bike’s headlight. Extreme caution should be used on this road at night. This is particularly true around Muju because there are speed bumps place inexplicably at seemingly random spots in the road.

In the daylight hours, highway 19 between Janggye and Youngdong offers a beautiful ride through mountains, rolling hills, small village.

In summer, during and after the rainy season, the vivid and vibrant greens of the trees, grasses, and rice fields, can be almost overwhelming at times.

As this road is not heavily travelled in the Summer, it can be quite nice and calming to stop for a rest and just absorb the quietude of nature.

In this busy country, it is becoming increasingly difficult to find places where the only sounds are insects, frogs, and wind through the trees.

It rained for about an hour as I worked my way toward Youngdong. I had to make two stops to clean the bugs off of my visor and lights. Wet and cold, I eventually reached Youngdong. My joints were stiff from cold and the intense concentration of riding at night, in the rain, on unfamiliar road.

Youngdong marks the return to civilization. Although it is a relatively small town, it is a nice place to stop for a bite to eat and to rest.

From there highway 4 takes you into the city of Daejeon. Daejon offers some good restaurants, movie theaters, nightlife and the other amenities of big cities. You can find these things and inexpensive motels in the area around Daejeon train station.

The ride from Pusan to Daejeon along the above course took approximately 9 1/2 hours. I was wondering how much of that time was attributable to darkness and rain. I also wanted to take some pictures that I couldn’t take because of the rain and to see what i had missed in the darkness. So, the next morning I took off back along the same route I took from Pusan. All told, including rest and meal breaks, the return time would have been about the same.

However, as I was eager to get back home and rest up for the coming work week, I turned South on highway 5 when I reached Changnyeong. I raced to highway 5 to Masan and then took highway 2 back in to Pusan.

If you are trying to get from Pusan to Daejeon quickly, this is not the route to take. The fastest way I have found takes approximately 5 hours. This is an amazing ride if you are looking for a leisurely ride through beautiful mountains, small villages, and farm land.

View More photos of the trip by clicking on the picture.

Click on the map for a more detailed view of the route.

I have no motivation for blogging about Korea any more.  After 20 years of experience with Korea, I have seen the birth of a democracy and the development of a vibrant economy.

However, as the saying goes, the more things change, the more they stay the same.  Everyday, it is the same media propaganda, the same political scandals, the same social problems, the same xenophobia, the same nationalistic garbage, the same excuses, the same corporate scandals, the same mass hysteria, the same good things, the same bad things, just a different day and different people.

I barely read the Korean newspapers any more.  I hardly ever watch Korean news.  I make it a point never to discuss politics with anyone anymore, especially if it involves the US.  In a nutshell, I’m weary.  I’m even wearier of blogging about any of it.   Very rarely do I see anything new or original in Korean society to write or comment about.

I’m two weeks away from my first vacation in three years.  It is much needed.  My life batteries were completely depleted a very long time ago.  It’s time to recharge.

Because of my lack of interest in blogging about Korea, I haven’t post very much at all in the past year or so.  Paradoxically, now that I have decided not to blog about “Korea,” i expect that I will be posting more frequently in the future.  However, I expect that my blogs will be more about me and what I’m doing here in Korea.

We’ll see.

From an awesome headline: “South Korean internet geeks trigger panic over US ‘tainted beef’ imports”

To a great opening paragraph:

Tens of thousands of young internet-obsessed South Koreans, whipped into a frenzy by alarmist television programmes, a complex scientific paper on genetics and a hyperactive online rumour-mill, have held candlelit vigils protesting against imports of American beef.

To one of the best news quotes I have ever read:

. “I just want to live and fulfill my career dreams, not die mad like an American cow,”

The following article from the Times Online is a great summation of all of the idiocy surrounding the korean anti-US beef imort firestorm”.

Tens of thousands of young internet-obsessed South Koreans, whipped into a frenzy by alarmist television programmes, a complex scientific paper on genetics and a hyperactive online rumour-mill, have held candlelit vigils protesting against imports of American beef.

Believing that the meat carries a high risk of BSE and that Koreans are genetically predisposed to contracting the linked Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease, the online masses have taken to the streets, cursing America and demanding that their Government should act to avert catastrophe.

Two features of the protests have caught the authorities, the Government and teachers offguard.

The first is that, unlike the mobs that have contributed to South Korea’s long history of street rallies, more than half of the demonstrators are below university age.
Related Links

Some teachers approve of the rallies, others condemn them, but all agree that their students are spending too much time in cyberspace.

The second is the virulence of the xenophobia on and offline: despite sweeping to power on a more foreigner-friendly ticket, Lee Myung Bak, South Korea’s new President, leads a country with substantial anti-American feeling.

Behind the fury and panic is the decision made last month by Mr Lee to allow US-produced beef back into the country after a five-year hiatus.

South Korea, with other Asian nations, suspended imports in 2003 after cattle in the US were found to have BSE: the protesters are convinced that the ban has been lifted too soon and with too many concessions to Washington.

On the many new BSE-related websites that have sprung-up in the last week, the language is little short of hysterical. Pseudo-science, anti-Americanism and teenage angst have produced a staggering volume of web traffic.

“Are we fated to die so young?” wailed a typical post. “I just want to live and fulfill my career dreams, not die mad like an American cow,” wrote another.

Over the past couple of days, virtually every teenager in Seoul has received the same text message on mobile phones, “Schools closed next Thursday”.

The information is bogus, but authorities are steeling themselves for street demonstrations on the grandest scale. By the weekend the protesters’ numbers are expected to rise tenfold.

The BSE scare has already made its practical effects felt. After a two month honeymoon period in power, Mr Lee has approval ratings below 30 per cent.

The name Gary Gygax means nothing to you unless you are a true, old school, uber dork like me.

Gary Gygax is dead at age 69. Who is this man?

MILWAUKEE - Gary Gygax, who co-created the fantasy game Dungeons & Dragons and helped start the role-playing phenomenon, died Tuesday morning at his home in Lake Geneva. He was 69.

With all of his hit points gone, Gygax the Great dies, his spirit doomed to roam the dungeons of Lake Geneva, Wisconsin forever as a Level 99 Specter.

I got a chuckle out of this news story from CNN:

(CNN) — Two masked and machete-wielding men who barged into a club in Sydney, Australia, couldn’t have picked a worse night for their robbery — a monthly meeting of bikers.

The robbers chose the wrong night to burst into the club where the Southern Cross Cruiser Club have their monthly meeting.

About 50 burly bikers fought back with tables and chairs — pretty much anything that wasn’t bolted down. One would-be robber was tied up; the other in the hospital.

Police arrested both.

“These guys were absolutely dumb as bricks,” Jerry Vancornewal, leader of the bikers, told CNN Thursday. “I can’t believe they saw all the bikes parked up front and they were so stupid that they walked past in.”

Vancornewal and his buddies were at the Regents Park Sporting and Community Club in Sydney when the two men wearing ski masks stormed in Wednesday night. They yelled at patrons to drop to the floor as they emptied cash registers at the bar.

Hearing the commotion from an adjacent room, Vancornewal and his pals with the Southern Cross Cruiser motorcycle club stomped through to the bar area to intervene.

“They (the robbers) thought they had the upper advantage with their knives and their machetes,” Jim Webb, night supervisor of the club, told CNN. “They didn’t expect to run into a bunch of guys carrying chairs and tables.”

One of the would-be robbers crashed through a plate-glass door and jumped off a balcony.

“All he had to do was push the button and it automatically opened,” Webb quipped.

… A third person, who was waiting in a getaway car, took off when the bikers threw pieces of furniture at him, Webb said. Police have not located him.

My fascination with and love for motorcycles began when I was twelve or thirteen years old. No. That’s not entirely accurate. Although I had never actually been near a motorcycle, let alone sat on one or ridden on one, my fascination with bikes began much earlier than that.

I was a child of the 1970s. For a child in my neighborhood, the 1970s meant spending a lot of time riding bicycles, and it meant Evel Knievel. Watching Evel jump cars, buses, and other things was a family event. My older brother, my father, I, and sometimes my mother, would sit in front of the television and watch his jumps when they were broadcast on programs such as ABC’s Wide World of Sports.

The next day, my friends and I would get together and talk about how cool the jump was. Evel was a god. We were only six years old, but we knew that we wanted to be Evel Knievel.

Evel and his marketing people were nothing short of geniuses. He was one of the main forces behind the revitalization of the stagnant 1970s toy industry. Every male child of every age had at least one product with Evel Knievel’s image on it. My brother had an Evel Knievel lunch box. I had an action figure. We both had one of the coolest toys ever made, the Evel Knievel Stunt Cycle.

The Evel Knievel Stunt Cycle is a toy that benefited from the days before product liability lawsuits and toy recalls took a lot of the fun out of being a kid. I seriously doubt that the Stunt Cycle could exist today in its original form. It was a plastic motorcycle that carried an Evel Knievel action figure. The bike mounted onto a geared platform with a large crank on the side. To make the bike work, you would turn the crank as quickly as possible to wind the bike up. The motorcycle would emit this high-pitched whine that would increase in pitch and volume as the crank was turned faster and faster. Once you got the crank to maximum speed and volume, you hit the release button and the bike would scream away across the kitchen floor, driveway, or other hard surface. At least that is what was supposed to happen.

The commercials showed the Evel Knievel Stunt Cycle racing away, popping wheelies, jumping over other toys, and similar exciting possibilities. However, the reality was that the bike would travel about two feet before making a hard right turn and crashing to the floor. If you are lucky, you could have the pleasure of watching it spin in tight circles on its side as the wound up gears in the rear tire mechanism wound down to a halt.

Another thing that the commercials didn’t show was the blood and chunks of skin that millions of children left across the driveways of America. The crank
on the Stunt Cycle platform was about one inch above the ground at its lowest point. That mean that as you cranked away as fast as your little hand would go, if you didn’t pay close attention, your knuckles would hit the ground and scrape along the pavement leaving bits and pieces of your knuckles behind. A few bloody knuckles were never enough to make you put the toy away. However, I am convinced that the makers of that fine toy were in cahoots with the bandage industry.

My first bike accident, of which I have absolutely no memory, was me riding my tricycle off of the front porch at three or four year of age apparently in an attempt to jump some rose bushes. That accident was the source of a small, still-visible scar below my bottom lip.

From three wheels, I eventually graduated to my first two-wheeler. The first day I rode solo on my brother’s bike without dad holding on to the back was also the day I got my first black eye. I rode out of our driveway and part way down the block before turning around and in a moment of “Gee, look! I’m riding by myself” inattention, I was looking at my parents rather than the road in front of me. I rode straight into the back of our big, pink Pontiac car.

Once I got the hang of riding a bicycle, the first modification I made to the bike was to attach a clothes pin to the bike frame and insert a baseball card into the clothes pin and between the spokes of the bike. Then, whenever I rode my bike, the spokes would make a flap, flap, flap noise against the baseball card, which made it sound like a motorcycle. Just like the one Evel Knievel had.

Over the next couple of years, I watched my brother and his friends make ramps out of wood so that he had his buddies could jump over things…just like Evel Knievel. Well, monkey see, monkey do. Soon my friends and I were jumping over piles of dirt, bricks, cinderblocks, and occasionally someone who was stupid enough to lay on the ground between the take off and landing ramps, when we had landing ramps.

Helmets, pads, and jackets were unheard of when I was growing up. How I and my friends survived our childhood is a mystery to me.

Then came the fateful day when I was twelve or thirteen years old. Out of nowhere, and without warning whatsoever, my quite conservative and straight-laced father rolled up the driveway on a cherry red motorcycle. The bike was a beautiful 1975 Honda CB400. The in-line exhaust pipes and the chrome front fender looked awesome. This was a real motorcycle. There were no baseball cards in the spokes of this baby. To my eyes, it was 400ccs of pure Evel Knievel.

I didn’t even know my dad could ride a motorcycle. The question on the lips of most members of the family was “why did you buy it.” My question was, “when will you take me for a ride.”

Evel Knievel…Coolest Guy Ever!

On the train down from Seoul yesterday:

Conversation 1

“You are in my seat.”

“This is my assigned seat.”

“No. I have a ticket. This is my seat.”

“I have a ticket for this seat. Here. Car 16 seat 15C. See?”

“Oh? [raising voice and drawing attention from other passengers] I don’t know where you got yours, but I just got mine from the ticket window.”

“I reserved mine a long time ago.”

“Well, you will have to move because this is my seat.”

“I’m not going anywhere because I am in the right seat.”

“Well.. what are you going to do?”

“Let me see your ticket.” [inspeting ticket] “You are on the wrong train.

“No I’m not.”

Yes you are. Look. Your ticket says 3:30. This is the 3:00 train.”

[becoming visibly angry] “No. I bought a ticket for the 3:00 train.”

“It doesn’t matter what you thought you did. You have a ticket for the 3:30 train. Look. Right there. See? It says 3:30pm. See the tv monitor? That says this is the 3:00 train to Pusan. You are on the wrong train. The train is leaving in about 2 minutes, so you should get off now before it’s too late.”

“Oh. I’m so angry.” [Stomps off of train]

Conversation 2

[Young military guy in uniform approaches and says, in English] “Excuse me, sir. May I get through.”

“Sure” [stand up so he can get to the inside seat]

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

15 minutes later

“Excuse me, sir.”

“Yes?”

[points apologetically at his Burger King bag] “Do you mind if I eat my lunch?”

“No. Not at all. Please do!”

“I have two hamburgers, sir. Do you want one?”

[Rather surprised and flattered] “Oh. No thank you. I just ate while waiting for the train. But thank you very much.”

“Are you sure? You may have one.”

“No No… Thank you very much. But I couldn’t. Please. You eat them.”

Korea confirmed Today (July 31) a second Korean hostage has been killed in Afghanistan, denouncing Taliban militants for committing the “barbarity.”

“One of our citizens kidnapped in Afghanistan, Shim Sung-min, was confirmed on July 31 to have been killed,” Foreign Ministry spokesman Cho Hee-yong said in a press briefing.

The official confirmation came over 12 hours after a Taliban spokesman said the militants had shot and killed a male hostage because the Afghan government failed to trade the hostages for Taliban prisoners.

“The government cannot hide its anger and strongly denounces the Taliban militants for brutally murdering (Shim) while our government was doing its best and working closely with the Afghan government to win the safe release of our citizens,” the Foreign Ministry spokesman said.

The bullet-riddled body of Shim was found on a road near the city of Ghazni, where 23 Korean aid workers were kidnapped on July 19, according to reports.

The 42-year-old leader of the group, Presbyterian pastor Bae Hyung-kyu, was shot dead last Wednesday after Kabul refused to release jailed Taliban fighters.

Shim, a native of Goseong in South Gyeongsang Province, had worked at an IT company in Seoul but recently moved to Seongnam, just south of the capital, where he said he wanted to do volunteer work while attending graduate school.

The 30-year-old was remembered by his family as a very dutiful son, while his friends said Shim was always the first in line to offer help to anyone less fortunate, especially the disabled.

Earlier today, Kevin over at Big Hominid stated:

I don’t understand how Lindsay Lohan’s recent arrest … is more newsworthy than the terrifying drama unfolding in Central Asia. What exactly am I missing? A cynic might say this is a reality check for Koreans…

I think it is more of a reality check for the Koreans to look at themselves and whether the hostage situation is more important that a semi-final game of the Asian Cup football/soccer tournament.

During the game, it was announced that 8 of the Korean hostages in Afganistan had been released. Shortly thereafter Al Jazeera reported that one of the Korean hostages had been killed by the Taliban. I noticed the story during a quick check of the news during a lull in the soccer match. The story was then picked up by Reuters.

Did KBS2 break into the soccer match to announce that 8 hostages had been released or that one hostage has been reported killed? No.

Did KBS2’s soccer announcers mention the news? No.

Did KBS2 run a crawler across the bottom of the screen to announce the breaking news? No, but they did run a crawler apologizing for preempting a comedy program because the soccer match went into overtime, and they sent another crawler across the screen assuring viewers that some drama would be shown immediately after the game and gave a brief synopsis of the upcoming episode.

It seems that KBS2 thinks the outcome of a sporting event is more important that the outcome of a hostage crisis and reports of their countrymen being murdered.

Update:

Al Jazeera is now confirming that one Korean has been killed:

The Taliban has killed one of 23 South Korean hostages after negotiations for their release broke down, according to a Taliban spokesman.

James Bays, Al Jazeera’s correspondent in Afghanistan, said that he was told by the spokesman that “a male hostage had been killed and his body was left next to the main Kabul-Kandahar highway.”

The Afghan government confirmed the Taliban had killed one of the captives on Wednesday.

“I can confirm that one of the hostages has been killed by the Taliban,” Waheedullah Mujadadi, the head of the Afghan delegation negotiating for the release of the South Koreans, told the AFP news agency.

Taliban set a “final deadline” of 20:30 GMT on Wednesday for their demands for a prisoner swap to be met.

After two weeks with only two or three rain-free days, and despite a forecast of rain, the motorcycle gods smiled and it was a beautiful day.

After meeting at Pusan Train Station and having a quick breakfast of a toasted ham, egg, and cheese sandwich, we hit the road at 9:30 am. We rode south past the train station and turned west at the overpass and rode through the tunnel into Daeshin-dong and then through Daeti tunnel into Kwejeong and Hadan. From there, we took Highway 2 toward Jinhae.

After passing Yongwon and approximately 7 km before Jinhae, we arrived at Angol and turned off of Highway 2. We through Angol along the coast until we arrived at the ferry terminal.

We boarded the 11:00 am ferry to Gadeokdo and secured our bikes for the ride.

We went to the upper deck and took a look at the ocean ahead of us.

The captain of the vessel, who was reportedly enjoying an adult beverage shortly before boarding the vessel, was ready to set sail.

We sailed past the construction of the Pusan to Keoje Island bridge.

After about 30 minutes, we turned toward Gadeokdo Island. The ferry docked at a little pier built out into the ocean.

After getting off of the ferry, we turned right and headed up into the mountains. A short ride up a steep mountain and down the other side, set the pattern for the entire island. a series of mountains, coves, and small villages.

There are no major roads around the island. The roads are little more than concrete paths and sometimes no more than a narrow walkway between buildings. No idea what two cars coming from opposite directions would do.

At any time, the roads can end in a military base, a farm house, or a beautiful outcropping of rocks.

When you come to one of these dead ends, then you can only turn around and enjoy the view on the ride back.

Many of the houses on the island are very old and little more than shacks, but they are someone’s home.

Life on the small island remains very traditional. The only industries appeared to be fishing, farming, a few small stores and a handful of restaurants.

Some of the roads between the small villages are so steep that the switchbacks are immediately below section of road that you are on.

The steepness of roads required riders to go hard on the front and back breaks and to keep a substantial distance from the rider in front of you.

Riding back to the car ferry pier, we had a good look at one of the villages, the road leading over the final hill to the pier, and the mainland off in the distance.

We arrived back at the car ferry pier about 2 hours before the ferry was scheduled to arrive. We traveled every road we could find on the island, took a very slow lunch, and rode back to the ferry pier in approximately 3 hours. We waited for the ferry inside a small store, where we enjoyed snacks, adult beverages, soda pop, and good conversation.

In the biker world, it is common and often expected for male bkers to give other male bikers hugs. Here is a good instructional video on how to give non-threatening, man-to-man hugs that will adequately display camaraderie while simultaneously avoiding a beatdown.

Are Paul Wolfowitz, World Bank Chief, and this Gringotts Bank Chief from Harry Potter twins?