D 16 - Solo Car Camping Trip: Cheorwon → Gimpo

2021.06.08(Tue)

To cut to the chase, I ended up having the rare experience of calling my insurance company in the middle of the night to get a tow truck for the very first time in my life.

The day actually started off really well. My plan was to stay in Ganghwa Island, Incheon.

I woke up early in the morning and drove straight there to attend my class. After finishing the morning lesson safely at a café, I headed toward Dongmak Beach, located on the southern part of the island.

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Unlike other beaches, this place had strict COVID-19 measures in place. Every visitor had to go through a check-up, fill out a registration form, and wear a wristband in order to enter.

When I arrived, it was low tide, and the mudflats stretched endlessly in every direction.

Excited to see the wide mudflats again after such a long time, I kicked off my shoes and socks and ran straight in. Standing alone in the middle of the tidal flats, I smeared mud all over myself like a kid, playing with the textures and feeling as if I had returned to my childhood.

After spending the whole day at the beach, I grabbed some dinner ingredients and headed to ‘Odudondae’ for the night. I had read on a blog that if you go a little further down past the public parking lot, there’s a hidden spot with an ocean view. So I pushed through the bushes and went deeper down.

Down the winding path, I found that two groups had already settled in. So I went a little further down and set up my spot next to a reed field, where I could enjoy a quiet ocean view. There, I watched a movie and treated myself to a delicious dinner.

The view here was stunning, but since it was right in the middle of the countryside, once the sun went down, my car looked a bit eerie sitting all alone in the open field. So, I decided to move up closer to where the other campers were (just a 30-second drive away).

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Wait—what the...?!

On the way up, my left front tire sank into the mud. No matter how hard I pressed the accelerator, the car wouldn’t budge.

'Stay calm… stay calm…'

Of all movies, I had just watched 127 Hours earlier that day — you know, the one where the guy goes climbing alone in Utah’s Blue John Canyon, falls, gets his arm trapped, and ends up stranded for 127 hours before barely escaping.

And now here I was, in what felt like a scene straight out of that film. The sky had already gone pitch dark, and since I was in the countryside, there wasn’t a single light around. Afraid the battery might die, I couldn’t even keep my headlights on. Instead, I had to fight my way through this mess relying only on my phone’s flashlight and a tiny camping lantern. Still, I kept telling myself — if that guy in the movie survived on his own, then maybe I could too.

'Think… think…'

First attempt: I kicked off my shoes and started digging the mud with my bare hands and feet. With one hand holding the flashlight and the other clawing at the dirt, I tried my best. But since the evening air had cooled, the mud had already hardened. It was nearly impossible to dig through.

Mission failed.

Plan B.

According to the internet, when your wheel gets stuck in mud, you should place sand, wood, or something flat behind the tire so it can grip and roll out. I looked around, but all I saw were soggy dirt and reeds — nothing useful. Then it hit me: my little foldable table I always use for meals. Desperate times, desperate measures. I slid it behind the wheel and tried reversing. Loud spinning noises, mud flying everywhere… but nope. Another fail.

Next option: ask for help. Just above the slope, a couple in their late 30s were sitting outside their tent, enjoying the night view. Swallowing my pride — since I usually hate asking anyone for help — I walked over and asked if they could lend a hand. My gut told me it wouldn’t go well. Sure enough, the moment they glanced at my car, their faces turned sour. They quickly muttered that they couldn’t help and retreated, never to return.

At the time, I felt a wave of disappointment and awkwardness — I mean, here I was, a young woman alone in the dark, literally battling the mud, and they just went back to laughing at their campsite. But looking back, I’m oddly grateful. Their presence nearby made me feel a little less scared.

Either way… fail, again.

Alone again in the pitch-black wilderness, with not a single light in sight, a wave of despair started to creep in. But then I reminded myself: even if a tiger bites you, keep calm and you’ll survive. Panicking wouldn’t change a thing — there was no one here to help me. If I lost my head now, I was truly done for.

That’s when my dad’s voice flashed through my mind like a movie reel. Before letting me go on this trip, he had nagged and worried endlessly, drilling the same advice into me until my ears nearly bled: ‘If anything happens, don’t panic. Call me, and call the insurance company right away.’ He even saved their number in my phone himself.

So I scrolled through my contacts, found the number, and made the call — my final lifeline. The first thing I asked, shamelessly, was the cost. Near the end of my trip, my funds were running low, and the thought of a massive bill terrified me. When the operator told me it was covered by my insurance and completely free, I almost shouted ‘Hallelujah!’ in relief.

The 20 minutes waiting for the tow truck felt more like 20 hours. To stay calm, I washed the mud off my body, changed into clean clothes, tidied the car, and packed up my things. I just wanted to be ready to escape this cursed reed field the moment help arrived. Looking back, I must’ve looked ridiculous — one woman alone, staging her own little survival show in the middle of nowhere at midnight.

At last, my savior — the tow truck — arrived. The driver hooked up a cable to my car and, with a steady pull, rescued it from the muddy trap. He casually mentioned that I wasn’t the first; apparently, he had already pulled out six or seven other cars stuck in the exact same spot. Guess this place was a hotspot for mud disasters.

But the relief didn’t last long. As he finished the job, he warned me in a matter-of-fact tone: ‘People often come here to end their lives… some jump into the river, others light charcoal inside their cars. You really shouldn’t come back to a place like this.’ Then, just as coolly, he drove off into the night.

A chill ran down my spine. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. As I sped along the pitch-black country roads, even someone like me — who usually watches horror movies alone with the lights off — felt a surge of real fear. The silence was so heavy, I kept imagining something might suddenly leap out of the darkness.

Here’s my secret tip for beating fear.

I’ve mentioned before that I don’t get scared easily, but hey — I’m still human. Sometimes the fear creeps in.

So what do I do? Simple: I start thinking about something sexy.Sounds weird? Trust me on this one. The trick is to replace fear with an even stronger stimulus, and for me, nothing works better than letting my mind wander into a bit of steamy imagination. By the time I’m halfway through those shameless thoughts, the fear is long gone.

And just like that, my nerves settled. I kept driving, and eventually I hit the main road.

Not knowing where to crash for the night, I suddenly remembered—McDonald’s is open 24/7. So I drove straight to Gimpo, grabbed a late-night burger, and tried to sleep in the car. But staying the whole night at McDonald’s felt awkward and guilty somehow, so I moved again and finally parked near a quiet park to catch some sleep.

Funny thing is… just two hours earlier, I had everything set up and was ready for a cozy night. Who would’ve thought moving just 25 meters for ‘safety’ would end up turning into a 25-kilometer midnight dash to Gimpo? Truly a spectacular, unforgettable night.

Lesson learned: When trouble strikes, don’t waste time—just call your insurance company right away.

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16. Worries breed more worries.

: It’s an uncomfortable truth that when times are tough, even the smallest, most trivial things suddenly become reasons for concern.

Think about exam season: instead of studying, you suddenly feel the urge to clean your room, reorganize your desk, or read random books. It’s the same with worries. In hard times, we invent things to stress over that we’d normally never even notice.

But here’s the surprising part — most of the things we worry about never even happen.

As my all-time favorite book The Secret says:“The headlights on your car can only illuminate 50–100 meters ahead, but you can drive all the way from California to New York with just that. Life works the same way. As long as you can see the next 100 meters, the road will keep unfolding.”

The truth is, worrying doesn’t change much. What will happen, will happen. Worry exists because we fixate too much on an uncertain future instead of the present moment.

Like the quote says, focus on the 100 meters ahead. Once you pass it, the next 100 meters will appear, and so on until the end of the road. Instead of wasting precious time on uncertainties, pour your energy into the present. That’s where the solutions are.

When life feels heavy, the best way forward is to stay grounded, focus on the here and now — and you’ll realize that most of your worries quietly fade away.

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