Bukhan Mountain

This post is rather lengthy, sorry. I know not all of you have the time to sit down and read all of this at once, but I hope that doesn't keep you from reading. I began writing as a literati about halfway through, albeit a bad one because my writing is much out of practice, so I apologize if the voice seems very odd. Without too much further ado (do, haha, if you laugh you're weird like me), here's my account of Bukhansan.

Finally, I'm writing about Bukhansan (san means mountain) which I climbed a week ago. Like I said it was amazing. Four of us went, Peter, Karen, Sarah, and myself. Peter went because he's a health nut and wanted to get an exercise or something, and Karen came just for fun, even though she has really bad allergies. Sarah organized the whole thing and I went just so I could wear my Vibram Fivefingers shoes, haha. Nah, I went b/c I love that kind of stuff, and I wanted to get some good pictures. I did get a LOT of stares, and some people tried to tell me in English, "beautiful shoes." I think they loved them. I probably could've sold a pair or two if I had them on me.

Anyway, Sarah was the mastermind behind this, so she chose our destination. She wanted to go to the Bukhan Fortress, but we couldn't figure out where that was. We decided on going to Daedanmoon, or Extreme Gate. We figured that was close enough to a fortress, and of course it was the furthest hike from where we started: 4.7km, or just under 3mi, one way, up the hill, in snow, barefoot.

We started off and realized that we were still in Seoul, and not quite in nature yet. The trail was so crowded that, at times, we had to move off the path to let others go by. A friend told me that Bukhansan is the world's busiest national park, and I can believe it. There was also a small village about 10 minutes into our hike, with a restaurant, street vendor, and a couple of buildings way off the path that I took to be homes or something. I thought that would be a nice life, living on the mountain, right next to the river, and giving food to stupid tourists.

Eventually, the crowd thinned out to just 20-30 people in sight at any given time, rather than over 50. The trail also widened, and we could believe we were in nature...sorta. There were far too many trees and not enough vistas, so pictures were rarely taken. Instead of a nice outing, alone, with beautiful views, it became an oppressive hike with people elbowing past. There were, however, some nice things along the way. We investigated a Buddhist temple off the path, and there were simple statues with Korean script on them. People had piled rocks beside them and said a prayer for luck. A prayer to whom I do not know, but I assume the Buddha. We met one or two people who could speak English fairly well, and walked with them for a time.

Eventually, however, morale began to die as Peter wasn't getting the workout he wanted, and Karen's allergies were bad and she wasn't seeing the sights she wanted. Sarah and I were also disappointed, but were trying to make the best of it. Peter and Karen mentioned going back, and when Sarah and I said we wanted to go on but that they could back, they felt like they would offend us if they did, so they kept going with us.

Someone voiced the opinion that I had been taking too much time at every single place to stop and play in the water, or climbing every rock there was, or venturing off the path to look closer at certain things. So, I tried to hurry ahead when there was nothing to see, and explore when I had the time. I climbed up a rock and found a small Buddhist temple at the top that had some construction going on. A man was sitting under the roof, snacking on some gimbap. I wish I had a picture because it was so simple and pure, but pictures are not always worth a thousand words, while a memory is often worth a million. With my Vibrams I took every opportunity to splash in the mountain-cold water.

The kilometers crawled past, but the people became more scarce. We were no longer bothered by crowds coming down the mountain, we no longer had to move out of the way for others, and it was becoming more like nature. For a time, the four of us spread out and were walking generally alone.

It was in such a state, and with no other Korean in site, that I overtook the bend that afforded me the first view of Daedanmoon. My feet ached, my back ached, I had stubbed a toe on a rock, my shoulders ached from my pack. I nearly fell down with relief, but the trail did not end at the Gate. Off to either side of the gate, a wall ran. I had no idea what it was for, but my first thought was of the Great Wall, and perhaps it had at one time been a boundary against the north, though I doubt it because North and South Korea have only been split for 60 years. I waited for the others to catch me up, and while Karen and Peter absorbed the view of the valley below, Sarah and I explored the path along the wall. Off to the left and beyond the hill we could see down into Seoul, expanding into the mists of pollution, much like seeing Hong Kong from Victoria Peak.

After seeing to the left, Peter and Karen said they were leaving, so Sarah and I decided to go down with them, leaving the wall to the right unexplored. It called to me, however, and within a minute of leaving the Gate I said I'm going back. Sarah immediately followed, and our group split. We said we'd hurry and tried to catch them up on the way down. I'm glad we decided to explore more, because the view from there was among the best I've ever seen, and made the trip worth it and more.

The trail to the right was far more difficult, and at times you had to pull yourself up using a rope. Finally, we crested a large boulder, and the descent on the far side was too steep for Sarah. She decided to stay and enjoy the view from there while I treaded on. Down the boulder and up another hill, I was confronted by a sheer rock face. I had seen others beyond it, so I knew it could be scaled, so I went about climbing. I want to say it was 25 feet high, but more likely it was 15 and my adrenaline made it grow. I was very thankful for my Vibrams at that point, allowing me to catch toe holds that would've been much more difficult in tennis shoes, and especially in hiking boots.

When I got to the top, there was an older Korean couple there to greet me. They were pouring over a map, and as it was after 5pm I assumed they were taking a rest before treading on to a camp site that night. I wanted to go with, but that boulder I sat upon was the end of my trail. The video I took in the web album is from this vantage point. Go here to check out all the photos and the video: <http://picasaweb.google.com/jmphry/bukhansan#>.

On my descent, I was faced again with that rock wall. Climbing down is infinitely harder than up, and I had no idea how I was going to get down. I almost started when I heard a Korean man's voice say, "Let's go this way." It was the man from the boulder, and he might have saved my life. He led me around and down to a rope, where I could repel down the side. So, as it turns out, that's how everyone else got up there! I didn't have to do any rock-climbing or nothing. It was much longer, but much safer, and I was grateful for the help.

At the bottom of the rope the mountain got very steep for a short way, and we had to skip and slide down. I was catching myself on trees using my hands, when one branch stump caught my left middle finger and left a gash over 1cm long. Blood immediately covered my finger, and I had to take the bandana I bought at the bottom of the mountain from off my head and wrap my finger. Blood soaked through the bandana, but there was nothing for it but to trudge on.

I met back up with Sarah, showed her some of the photos, and we started down. It was past 5pm and the sun was setting behind the mountain, so I knew we were racing the horizon as well as the peak. We wanted to catch up to Karen and Peter, but we had spent too much time sightseeing, and we were both very tired. Sarah was so tired she began scooting her feet along the ground, and tripped more than once. I made her slow down, fearing a twist or sprang and me schlepping her 3km down the hill. Nearly halfway down it started to sprinkle, which I welcomed, but Sarah broke out an umbrella. Silly girl! Oh well, to each his own.

Of course it took less time to go down than up, and we beat the sun, but near the bottom things stopped looking familiar. We got to an enormous rock slab that was sitting at quite an angle. To cross it was very difficult, and neither of us remembered it from the ascent. We turned back, and tried to find the path we had treaded up. After 20 minutes of circles and back-tracking, and trying to call Peter and Karen, we ran into some Aussies. We chatted with them and followed them to the trail. They were good guys, brothers actually, and we were thankful for their help as well as their company because by that time nearly everyone was off the mountain and we were entertaining thoughts of being lost on the mountain for the night.

We were off the mountain and at the bus stop just after sundown. Now we had nearly 2 hours of buses and subways back home before we could shower and nurse our wounds. My pack was merely the same backpack I've had since 8th grade, no hiking pack in the least, and when I removed it I discovered that tennis-ball-sized knots had developed in my shoulders and they were barely mobile if left unmoved for more than a minute or two. The shower I took that night was one of the best of my life. It took nearly 5 days for the aches and pains to disappear, but now I'm recoved and I want to tackle another trail. Perhaps the highest peak is in order now, hopefully it will afford more photos.