Ride: Namji-eup, South Korea to Busan, South Korea
Distance: 92.8km
Terrain: We couldn’t have asked for a more gentle ride for the final leg of this first part of our tour. The path was nice and flat as we hugged the river, save for just one big bump that required us to get off the bike. Facilities are plentiful approaching Busan. Ironically, the city itself is extremely mountainous, so we opted to stay just outside the center to make things easier when we moved on.
To interact with this map, visit Jess’s Strava account here.
Busan and the promise of two full rest days beckoned, and to say we were thrilled is an understatement. We still had close to 100 km to knock out, but it looked like it would be plain sailing. We were looking forward to experiencing city life again after a few days of quiet country non-action. Starting off bright and early, the first 30-40 kilometres flew by and we settled into a meditative cadence.
South Korea is beautiful.
The first stamp station was here, and we ran into 3 American guys on mountain bikes who looked like soldiers. They were also on their final day of cycling the Four Rivers Trail. It turned out they had only set off from Seoul 72 hours ago, and by 10 AM, had already ridden 45 km. Laughing at our tandem and bidding us farewell, they sped off into the distance and we never saw them again.
There was one big push about halfway through as you head into the mountains, but really, the entire day was wee buns, and the signposting on the trail was fantastic.
Around 1PM, we happened upon a pagoda. Nothing unusual about that, the trail is littered with them. But this one was… furnished. And electrified. It had a TV, a fan, a wardrobe, and carpet. Intrigued, and with half an eye on lunch, we thought this was a particularly inviting spot for a break. But as we approached, an ancient-looking man appeared out of thin air and promptly took up the entire space with his frail body. Taking the hint, we set up our camping stove on the empty covered platform next door instead. Once the old man saw that we weren’t in danger of encroaching on his territory, he vanished once again. We surmised that the similarly wizened woman pottering in the field alongside was his wife, and the two of them had set up a little summer sitooterie for themselves.
“Mon, hurry up and boil.”
If you stopped for a rest at every pagoda, you’d never get there. But this one was particularly nice.
About 30 kilometres away from Busan, we came across a small park with a few funky little food trucks. Ever the project manager, Jess was eager to keep pushing on and just get the ride over with, but Neil coaxed her into taking a break and observing the goings-on around us. We were making good time, and this would be our last chance to just breathe in the delightful little details to be found between A and B. Cycling tours are about more than just getting there.
Sipping on excellent fruity milkshakes, we sat and watched the other cyclists roll by. That’s another telltale sign that you’re getting closer to a major city - rest stops and bathrooms start increasing in both frequency and quality, and the number of people out on bikes goes up as well.
Knackered.
Dedded.
Just look at all those lovely bike racks.
As you approach bigger cities, the trails tend to look like this. They’re absolutely excellent.
Looming tower blocks say we’re nearly there.
The last 16 kilometres of the trail took us through the city proper, but thankfully the bike path was still separated from the increasingly bustling urban traffic of Korea’s second-largest city. However, as we inched closer and closer to the city centre, the path narrowed and merged with the pedestrian walkways, which left us competing for space with lots of old people enjoying a stroll. The wrinklies were dimly aware at best of approaching cyclists, and less than enthusiastic about shuffling out of the way, so we spent much of that stretch cautiously picking our way around these slow-moving chicanes, trying not to knock anyone over.
The elevated path winds its way through a string of parks periodically interrupted by cross streets, which made for some unpleasantly abrupt ascents and descents at junctions. Picking our way up and down these on our heavy tandem could have proved tricky, but after 600km in the saddle, Neil was now throwing our monster bike around like a BMX, much to Jess’s white-knuckled chagrin.
The last stamp of the Four Rivers Trail (or the first, depending on which end you start from) is on the estuary island of Eulsukdo, famous for housing a bird sanctuary, as well as being a filming location for popular Korean soap operas. It is well known as a paradise for over a hundred thousand birds, and it must be an amazing sight to see some ultra-rare species like the white-naped cranes, the blackfaced spoonbills, and the white-tailed eagles. But we weren’t going to be taking in any of that. We had come to see only one thing: a red phone box.
Sadly, this final stretch of the trail is one of the most unpleasant of the whole trip. It entails crossing a congested bridge with no shoulder lane. We figured we had come too far to end up splattered by a truck within sight of the goal, so we picked our way along the tiny sidewalk that served as a dual carriageway for bikes and people alike, leading to more close calls and another harrowing experience until we finally got off. It only takes a few minutes, but it’s fraught all the same.
Arriving at last on the island, it was as if someone had turned down the volume. The roar of traffic faded away, to be replaced with the sound of chirping birds as we rode around looking for the fabled finishing line. And after a modicum of bumbling around, we found it.
We’d made it. 11 days, 650 kilometres, and the length of an entire country under our belt. By previous standards, it had been an incredibly straightforward journey - no falls, no punctures, no raging stomach bugs. Ideal honeymoon fare. But it was no less enjoyable for that, and we will always treasure the many blissful hours we spent rolling through mile after mile of wildflowers, savouring the peace and quiet until the next inevitable random blast of K-pop.
We were doubly delighted because reaching this point was our only real goal for this trip. So not only were we feeling the elation of success, but also the liberation of having no script to follow for the rest of our time here. We had nothing left to prove, and would roll in whichever direction we felt like.
Right now, that meant finding a place to stay and take a shower, because holy hell do we stink. Look out Busan, we’ve got some serious eating to do.
