{"id":7850,"date":"2012-02-28T23:07:14","date_gmt":"2012-02-29T04:07:14","guid":{"rendered":"\/?p=7850"},"modified":"2012-02-28T23:14:26","modified_gmt":"2012-02-29T04:14:26","slug":"jim-jil-bangin","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/asiawheeling.com\/?p=7850","title":{"rendered":"Jim-jil-bangin’"},"content":{"rendered":"
As nice as our Busan love hotel was, complete with grouchy bicycle-sceptic staff, hallways jammed with cardboard boxes, malfunctioning coffee machines, and a “four ashtrays per room” policy, we decided not to stay another night. When we headed downstairs to check out, we found the grouchy hard to communicate woman from last night had been replaced by a younger and much more reasonable lady. She permitted us to store our baggage in her office (which was already quite cluttered with a bed, a dresser, a ton of posters of J-pop<\/a> groups, and the business\u2019s cash register) while we wheeled and charted our next steps. We thanked her heartily in both Korean and Russian (both of which we found she could understand) and headed off in search of coffee and food.<\/div>\n
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We selected a lively looking restaurant not too far from the hotel and sat down at one of the squat china-style tables. We quickly noticed that we were not alone it our table. Just behind us was a large candy apple red coffee machine. It seemed to be leering at us provocatively. You can imaging our delight when we found the price was 100 Won per paper cup of joe! This was less than ten cents for a serving of that sticky sweet heavily caffeinated instant sludge we had come however strangely to love. This was a huge boon.<\/div>\n
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The paper cups were just beginning to pile up all around us in a somewhat conspicuous manner when our server came by with our food. We looked at him sheepishly wondering if we had an obscene level of froth all over our mustaches, but he just smiled approvingly, and laid down a feast. Today was going to be great.<\/div>\n
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\nOur two sizzling blows of seafood stew were delightful and the proprietors really piled on the Banchan, as well as a gift-dish of scallion pancake. After we\u2019d finished it all, we sat around for a bit, savoring another couple more paper cups of coffee and puzzling over some bugs in the interface of the wikireader which were preventing us from settling a wager as to the nature of Country Code Top-Level Domains<\/a>.<\/div>\n
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\nBack on the cycles, we headed out to explore what Busan had to offer other than sex workers. I was glad to see that Uniqlo, asiawheeling\u2019s preferred provider of undestressed trousers, was advertising heavily here.<\/div>\n
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\nThe streets were wide and smooth, traffic was present but not overwhelming so, and the air smelled great. The city felt nearly as prosperous as Seoul, just a little smaller, cuter even.<\/div>\n
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\nBusan, as you no doubt already know, dear reader, is a port city. The urban area is spread across a number of craggy islands and rugged peninsulas, many of which have been modified to interact in some way with sea vessels, either unloading freight, building or repairing ships, or processing fish and other sea-products. This meant a few things for asiawheeling: there would be frequent elevation changes on this wheel, as well as quite a few bridges bridges; the air would alternate between refreshing sea-breeze and oceanic rot mixed with diesel fumes; and it was was likely going be totally gorgeous.<\/div>\n
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\nWe began by taking a large bridge across to a picturesque residential area. Stately houses clung to the rocky cliffs and smooth new roads wound around the edge, sea below and lush foliage above. We rode hard, the sea to our right and the rock to our left, passing cars occasionally on the downhills, as they lazily putted along, taking in the view. Once again, Busan felt a little bit like it was on vacation, a little bit sleepier than we had expected.<\/div>\n
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\nThe uphills were a little tougher than the downhills, for on this side of the city there were no bike lanes. Drivers seemed happy to give us space though, and at no time did I feel unsafe.<\/div>\n
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The sea was sparkling blue and filled with boats, from giant container ships, to trash barges, to fishing boats to Russian dry goods vessels. It was glorious. We stopped at a small park by the cliff-side to rest for a moment and take in the splendor. It was truly a new environment for us, and we were drinking it up.<\/div>\n
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As you can tell from our expressions, we were totally unable to contain ourselves.<\/div>\n
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When we next stopped it was for water, at a place which advertised a Brown University Kids English program. Your humble correspondents, being graduates of an American school by the same name, were interested to learn if it was indeed a program associated with our alma mater. We are still a bit in the dark in that regard. Speculation is welcome of course in the comments.<\/div>\n
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With a couple fatty 2 liter waters strapped onto each bike, we headed uphill towards the top of this island. From the top we had a great view of a strange manufactured driving range that was nestled between condominiums and port facilities.<\/div>\n
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\nWe idled there, at the top of the hill for a while speculating about the size and importance of this port to Korea and global shipping in general before heading back downhill.<\/div>\n
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\nWe were somewhere around a giant dry dock facility in the port of Pusan that Scott\u2019s bike began acting up again. It was his front wheel of course, the only thing that ever gave us trouble. The spokes had gone spaghetti again, and to make matters worse, tightening them up with the Syrian wrench didn\u2019t seem to help. We pulled over to the side of the road and began inspecting the wheel. The longer we inspected it the more our stomachs sank. It looked like the collection of bearings that we had used as spacers in the wheel to fill up the space left by the abscent dynamo apparatus that we\u2019d removed in Uzbekistan<\/a> had begun to rub on each other and generate heat. The heat had not only deformed the stack of washers and caused them to rub against the wheel producing even more friction, but it seemed to have compromised the plastic and metal plate that covered the compartment where the dynamo used to be and which held the axle into the wheel. In short, Scott\u2019s wheel was in bad shape. I was not even sure whether given new washers and plenty of lube the wheel would spin straight enough to not rub against the brakes.<\/div>\n
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\nJust then a character emerged from one of the factories down the street from us, presumably to smoke a cigarette. When he spotted us, he placed his cigarette back into its package and, looking interested, came over to see what the trouble was. He was a man of few words, but, seeing our predicament, beckoned us into his machine shop. We then watched, struck with awe and gratitude, as he flipped the bike over and began to take measurements.<\/div>\n
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\nHe measurements taken, he proceeded over to a large pile of metal chunks that looked like scraps from a larger machining project, and selected one which appeared to be the right size. He blew on it a few times to remove the many small flakes of metal that clung to everything in this machine shop, then put it on the lathe.<\/div>\n
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