Geogeum-do Death March

By Isaiah Winters

Every year, I subject myself to a figurative death march. These punitive pilgrimages always take place on one of Honam’s beautiful islands, and my patented poor planning ensures these treks are always too long, too hot, and ultimately underwhelming. Last October (issue #260), I turned a day at Myeongsa-simni, Wando’s most famous beach, into a death march to a distant deserted beach that was polluted, smelly, and a complete waste of time. My reward was to return to the baptismal waters of the main beach and cleanse myself of the sin of stupidity.

This year is no different. For our October issue, I’ve turned my most beloved Korean island into a hellscape of deep regrets and even deeper muscle pain, both of which persist as I write this ten days later. Located off Goheung’s southwest coast, Geogeum-do is the only place in Korea where I actually considered buying a home, that is, until the homeowner suddenly took it off the market. For such a small island, it boasts an impressive array of beaches, with Ikgeum Beach having light-colored sand, Geumjang Beach being a mixture of darker sand and pebbles, and Ocheon Beach featuring large pebbles of various hues. The island even has a nearly 600-meter-high peak with a network of long ridges offering island-studded panoramas. Basically, ruining a visit to Geogeum-do takes effort, which I certainly managed.

The “plan” was to park as close to the trailhead as possible and hike to Jeokdae-bong, the island’s highest point at 587 meters. From there, I’d take the southernmost ridge down, which terminates near Ocheon Beach. Once there, I’d stock up on water and food in the nearby village and then go for a well-deserved victory dip while listening to the waves and pebbles whoosh and crackle in their perennial ebb and flow. Once cooled off, I’d stroll along the island’s scenic coastal road to Geumjang Beach, where I’d take a gratuitous second dip before following the road back up into the mountains to where my car was parked. With a plan as foolproof as this, what could possibly go wrong?

Well, I didn’t check the distance between these locations beforehand – I just glanced at the map and thought, “Meh, looks doable.” Little did I know, I was embarking on a nearly 18-kilometer death march at noon during the peak heat of summer. Sweating buckets in the first ten minutes, I wisely skipped Jeokdae-bong and just went straight down the southbound ridge to Ocheon Beach, which saved me two kilometers. Even still, it took me six kilometers and two liters of water over a three-hour period just to get off the mountain, and then it was another kilometer slog to reach the nearby village for more sustenance, followed by an additional kilometer to Ocheon Beach. To be honest, I struggled to fully enjoy my swim because I kept remembering I was only about halfway through the death march.

The stroll along the scenic coastal road to Geumjang Beach soon turned ugly: I developed a nasty rash between my thighs, the swollen soles of my feet had worn through my socks, and my right knee was failing to bend to my will. With every step making things a little worse, I knew long before reaching Geumjang that I’d have to skip the second dip and just tuck-tail straight to the car, which was now 150 meters back up the mountain and nearly eight kilometers away. During my footslog of shame, the only memorable moment was when a 40-something ajumma rolled down her passenger-side window and said “yeppeo” (예뻐) to me. This confused me, especially since a man was in the driver’s seat, and when I asked her what she meant, she just said “yeppeo” again. Another car approaching behind them didn’t like our chitchatting and honked in frustration, so the couple just inexplicably drove off. Guess I wasn’t that cute after all.

Following the 15-kilometer death march, I was grateful to be back in my car before nightfall. The drive home was initially expressionless and quiet, but then the sky turned dark and ugly. I ended up driving for two nightmarish hours through the heaviest thunder and lightning storm of my life with torrents of rain I never knew nature could produce. With the roads taking on too much water, I hydroplaned several times. On three occasions, I briefly hydroplaned while simultaneously having my windshield completely doused by idiots passing too fast on the left. This left me both blind and unable to steer for split seconds. Those moments of sheer terror were like some final karmic punishment for all the day’s cumulative hubris. I can’t say I deserved any better.