Heading east from Yeoju, the surroundings became more mountainous and rural. I took a butt-break at Chiak-san National Park.

Chiak-san National Park

(Link to Korean National Parks.)

The road followed a wide river, which eventually joined another near this roadside stop.

Rest stop between Chaik-san and Seoraksan National Parks.

The road approaching Seoraksan climbed through steep 180-degree switchbacks with granite boulders on one side and dizzying views on the other. After several miles of this excitement, I pulled off into a rest area, where a tent was set up to sell freshly-cooked meals to paying passers-by.  A group of men where just settling in to their meal, and kindly invited me to join them.

One of their group was a professional Korean comedian, and had the rest rolling with laughter. I’m sure I was involved in some of his jokes, but none were at my expense. When a spicy potato pancake was served, everyone ate from the same platter, one fellow giving me a quick lesson on how to properly dive in with chopsticks. Next came spicy duck (good pantomimes all around) with peppers, which were rolled into greens that had been gathered from the nearby field. Delicious!

Had lots of laughs and great food with these kind fellows.

I was stuffed to the gills, but before I left, the men gave me three corn cobs, a can of sweet, rice-based drink, and a huge apple-colored, grapefruit-sized piece of fruit.

Just one example of Korean kindness.A

At the entrance to Seoraksan National Park, I could start to see granite peaks poking through mist.

Entrance to Seoraksan National Park.

Near Seoraksan National Park.

After more twisty mountain roads, here’s the top:

Crown jewel view of Seoraksan National Park.

At the visitor’s center I met a Korean named “Mr Mike”, whose very forward approach and bone-crushing handshake was very un-Korean (in my limited experience).  At parting, he tried the bone-crushing handshake thing again, increasing the pressure well beyond that of an enthusiastic new friend. I gave him a little squeeze of my own to let him know that a firm, friendly handshake is always appreciated, but he shouldn’t bring a knife to a gun fight.

After the cool, misty mountains of Seoraksan, it was back to the lush lowlands. Time for gas.

Fueling up is easy, just like home. Only here, they give you a packet of paper towels with each fill-up.

At the end of the day I arrived at the port city of Sokcho, where I would board the ferry to Zarubino.

Or so I thought.