Editor’s Note: The follow was written by a recently retired U.S. service man, about his extended deployment to Korea, where he built a family, and brotherhood with fellow Harley Riders:
Know as “The land of the morning calm,” Korea, as a nation, has been thought of as industrialgiant as far as technology goes, but that’s not the case. After being stationed here many times, I am asked constantly, “Korea, why do you like Korea?”
The answer is plain and simple. It’s a beautiful country geographically, the people are terrific in their own right, and it’s some of the most interesting biking I’ve encountered in my life. In the states and Canada, when you roll into a gas station in Small Townville, you rarely get a second glance. Here in Korea you’re downright stared at, as if you’re a half-naked couple making out on a park bench. Most Koreans in rural areas have never seen a foreigner, let alone a foreigner on a motorcycle and never a Harley.
They react like four-year-olds receiving their favorite new toy at Christmas.
“Wow!! Look at the foreigner! And he is riding a motorcycle!”
The majority of the bikes here are 250cc and below. They’re a cheap and economical means of transportation. If you have a nice car here it means, dictated by the paternal culture, you have money and should be respected. That being said, Koreans have no fear about walking up to your bike, twisting the throttle or sitting on it as they have no perception of privacy or respecting the property of others. Back home, if you saw a ’94 Electra Glide, you definitely wouldn’t touch it for fear of death or disembowelment.
The best part of it Korea is the brilliant scenery, and there are lots of places to go. The challenges of driving in a country where the locals regard the traffic laws as merely suggestions, make you realize, in a hurry, that you are truly glad you kept your life insurance up-to-date. Koreans must go to driving school to receive a driver’s license, with the exception of a motorcycle license. As soon as they graduate the driving course, all safety notions and road rules are lost in the wind. They have to blend in with the rest of the population or face the consequences.
Having served in the US Army for all my adult life and having been posted all over God’s green earth, I’ve found myself becoming more and more intrigued in seeking the meaning of life, and the true meaning of other cultures. Cynicism goes with it as well, which keeps me analyzing every little detail about different cultures as if they were in a non-fiction novel with dubious details. I can’t prevent myself from saying, “Holy fuck!! Where did you learn to drive?” Or “Man, combat is a cakewalk compared to this.” Simply put, in the states, we are given rules to guide our every move in our society, and we feel that there would be chaos without them. That’s not the case in Korea.
While traveling in Korea on a bike there all types of tourist attractions such as Bulguksa in Gyeongju, Gyeongsamnamdo Province, one of the most famous temples in Korea and once the capital city of Korea about a 1000 years ago. Various communities that were decisive points in Korean war history such as Daejon, No Gun Ri, and Kapyong, where the 2nd PPCLI (Princess Patricia’s light infantry) of the Canadian armed forces won a presidential unit citation for holding ground against the North Korean army when no one else could. Then there’s Busan, Incheon, Jochiwan, Hadong and Girisan.
Many servicemen I’ve known manage to get their bikes sent over when their duty station changes. I bought a 1988 883 Sporty when I got here and upgraded it a 1200 cc. It carried me to a lot of places along the way, but that came to an end on the morning of July 6th, 2007 when I was rear-ended at a red light by someone who decided, “Hell, it’s 1 a.m. I don’t need to stop for a red light.”
She was traveling at about 130 kph in a 60 kph zone. I heard her coming. When she got close, I figured she wasn’t gonna stop. I dropped the bike and jumped.
I wasn’t quick enough, and she hooked my left foot and drove me about 25 meters through the air. I landed in a pile on the opposite side of the intersection with a broken heel. I also sustained a broken left hand and a broken right shoulder. Two months and three surgery sessions later, I escaped the hospital.
The day I got sprung, I went to Gwangju and bought a ’94 Electra Glide police model and I was on the road again. My Korean friends thought I had lost my mind. My wife said to me, “As long as you are happy and you don’t die I’m happy.”
If anyone gets posted here or comes to visit and decides to ride a bike, I must say this to you. “You are not home, so you must adapt. Don’t get angry, be very careful and know where you are going before you leave on a trip.” Every day is an adventure on a motorcycle, but you knew that.
