We start our day with an early morning walk through Mungyeongsaejae Provincial Park. It’s a beautiful and winding climb along a manicured trail beside a clear stream with rocky pools and small waterfalls.

The rain stopped overnight and it’s misty. This adds to the atmosphere of the trail, which eventually climbs to Mungyeongsaejae Pass. Historically, this was considered the highest and most dangerous mountain pass in Korea, legend being that it was too tall even for birds to fly over. Along the trail, there are stone cairns created over decades and perhaps centuries by people laying one stone at a time. In the Korean tradition, adding a stone to the cairn honors the Mountain Spirit and brings good luck. The main features of the trail, however, are the three massive stone gates built for national defense in the late 1500s. We hike to the second gate before the mist turns to rain.

Back on our bikes, we stop for a quick ride snack (a Korean convenience store delicacy: rice triangles wrapped with seaweed and filled with tuna) and two guys wave us over to their shop. They are very friendly and tell us that, as avid touring motorcyclists, they consider long distance cyclists to be part of the family and they insist on giving us a big bag of delicious sweet puffed rice snacks for the road. The way bike touring attracts the kindness of strangers will never get old.

Back on the road, the skies clear, the mood is good and we make fast time, enjoying the beautiful Yeong-gang river and occasional shrines along the way.

As we near Hahoe, we begin one last climb. It’s modest, by Pacific Northwest standards, and as we settle in a car coming the opposite direction abruptly stops and a small man hopes out. “Excuse me, excuse me, where you from?” he says. I smile and tell him, wondering about the safety of his car just left in the middle of the road. He is incredibly friendly, an English teacher, Korean peace activist and marathon runner among other things. “Strong legs and run marathons so name Shin!” he says smiling and grabbing his shin bone. Eventually we part ways, again reflecting on the kindness of strangers.

We arrive at Hahoe Village in the late afternoon. Hahoe dates back to the 1300s and is a well preserved example of a Korean clan village, a tight knit and hierarchical community of families that lived together for centuries, with elaborate arts, agriculture and schools dedicated to Confucian education. We arrange for a home stay in one of the traditional thatch roof (peasant) homes, owned by a spry old woman we immediately like. The village sits at a picturesque bend in the Nakdong River and contains a wealth of historic and well preserved homes set along narrow alleyways. The vegetable gardens, flowers, bird life and views of the surrounding hills make for a remarkable setting. It’s a wonderful contrast to the high octane 24/7 urban vibe of Seoul.

After an amazing night of sleep on cushions on the floor of our guest room, we awake to clear and beautiful skies, an auspicious start to Allegra’s birthday. The owner of the home and her daughter pick fresh jujubes for us, which are light and crisp. We also try them dried and they taste like dates.

After breakfast, we say our goodbyes and get back on the road. The day is warm and humid already. Along the river, we ride through rice fields ready for harvest, past shrines and beside wetlands teeming with birds.

We follow the Nakdong River south to Sangju, where we cross a bicycle themed bridge to a bicycle museum. It’s a fun stop, though we both prefer riding bikes to seeing them on display.

Back on the bike path, we sync up with a Korean American rider named Andrew, who we ride with for the rest of the afternoon. He’s pedaling all of Korea’s bike paths as part of the national bike passport program, through which cyclists get stamps at different checkpoints and eventually earn medals. Andrew is going for the Grand Slam. He tells us about his life in Korea and what he loves here, as well as what he misses about Los Angeles. He and Allegra are kindred spirits with their bespoke biking clothes and handkerchiefs tied smartly around their necks. Again, the kindness of strangers.

We arrive in Gumi, clean up and head out for a birthday dinner. Being functionally illiterate in Korean can make menus a challenge, but this one has some photos so we point at things that look delicious. Eventually, plates emerge with green onion pancake and pork and tofu braised in garlic and chili with fresh lettuce leaves for wrapping. It’s a delicious way to end the day.