Dino Days

With summer here, I've been trying to tick the places off my list that would be less pleasant to visit when the cold weather sets in.  Up at the top of the list is the southern coasts and islands.  A few weeks ago, Jaclyn and I went to a place called Goseong.  It's known for, of all things, it's fossilized dinosaur footprints.

See?

We'd originally decided to go because there was an international dinosaur expo going on, but when I did some research (on my phone, on the bus-ride there) it seemed to be geared primarily towards children.  We decide to forgo that for these:

Awesome, yea?  I obviously hadn't done my research on the place, so we'd missed the infrequent shuttle from the bus terminal to the park.  I did know, however, that the footprints were only accessible during low tide, so we opted for a cab ride.  All 40 km.  So after an egregiously expensive cab ride from the bus station, we were deposited at the park on the southern coast.  The driver handed me his card, and I'm pretty sure what he said in Korean translates to, "Please call me if you're going to be idiotic enough to take a cab all the way back there." A (luckily) small fee granted us access to a modest fossil museum, as well as to the coastline with the actual footprints.  We were greeted by this family-friendly statue at the park entrance:

The children and parents of young children were undoubtedly delighted with the realistic presentation.  I know couldn't have done without the look of sheer terror on the iguanadon's face, nor the bloody scraps of flesh hanging from the velociraptor's teeth.  Sugar-coating it isn't gonna do the young ones any favors in the long run, you know?  We decided to skip the museum and head for the coast. 

A short hike took us down to beach, which was comprised of thin slabs of stone layered onto one another.  Down there, some of the prints were accesible.  Naturally, I had to take advantage:

 

The vast majority of the footprints were only viewable from a catwalk bolted into the cliffside, and were unfortunately barely visible.  I tried to sneak my way down to snap a few pictures (they are supposed to be the best and most abundant examples, so clear that you can even tell one species from another), but they were guarded by an aggressive ajossi  (old man) armed with name tag and whistle. I thought it ironic that the footprints can't be viewed for reasons of preservation, but they're covered in churning salt water for hours every day when the tide comes in.  It seems to me if they can withstand that punishment, they'll bear the burden of flash photography just fine, and a couple of ropes could prevent the above clowning.  But alas, it's not up for me to decide.

 

The view form a cement pier opposite the beach, accessed in attempt to see the premiere footprints.  These weren't visible form the park side at all.  You can see how densly concentrated this group of them is, this being one of several groups on this stretch of beach.  The wooden catwalk is in the background.

The museum was nothing too impressive, and the majority of the footprints were inaccesible and nigh on invisible, but the incredible coastline alone would have made the journey worth it.  The cliffs were like some enourmous cake, the ancient layers of sediment perectly level and preserved.  I couldn't help but think of a tree, the rings hidden beneath the bark marking all the years the tree stands and grows.  I suppose that's really what they are on a geologic scale, rings beaneath the soil, hidden for eons until the sea tore away the cliffs to show the markers of millions of years past.  Plus dino footprints.   

Caves split into the rock had a crystalline quality, all lines and edges and corners.  You had to be sure to keep your head down when you passed through the fissures, wide enough for only one person and sometimes not even that.  Now I'm going to drop a whole load of pictures on you.

 

Sorry, I know that was probably overkill but I didn't feel like being selective, so you can deal with it.  After cavorting about the coast we left the sea and headed up to the museum, which was small but densely packed with fossil molds.  On the way out, we discovered a roller-slide (the kind that pinches your fingers) leading down to the parking lot.  We took it down with the rest of the 4 year olds (of course), and got the info for the bus.  When they told us it was an hour from arriving, we took that as an invitation: