Misty Mountain Hop

I had always planned to assault Bukhan-san, and as the weather started to get colder, I decided to masochistically hold off a little longer until the snow came. No use in doing things by halves. Keeping tabs on numerous weather websites, I decided that last Saturday would be an ideal day for this adventure, freezing, sunny and a little snowy. However, it didn't all go EXACTLY to plan!

Bukhan-san is one of the smallest National Parks in Korea, about 80 square kilometres, but due to it's proximity to Seoul, it attracts the most annual visitors. We pass this striking region every time we go to Seoul, and while it may not be one of the highest mountain areas in the country, it rises very sharply and dramatically from the base. Possibly because we had grown so used to viewing it from the train or the bus, I had fooled myself into thinking the park consisted merely of the 3 visible peaks, and had imagined hiking it may prove a little dull, with boring views over the city of Seoul, and very little else of interest.

This was very foolish, and I completely underestimated what the interior of the park contained.

My plan was to leave around 9am, but due to my inexplicable excitement, I couldn't sleep and got on the bus for 7am! Unfortunately, I awoke to the worst fog I have ever seen, with visibility of probably only 3 metres in front of your face. I laughed at possibly the worst hiking conditions ever, but had no intention of pulling out now. I usually skip such details as directions, but will include some this time, as I had a bit of trouble finding the information online myself and other people might find it useful.

Coming from Ilsan, the best route was to take the 9703 bus to Gupabal subway station. From there, I had heard that the 156-1 bus ran to the West Gate, but the one I found was the 504, I think. From here to the West Gate only took about 50 minutes. Conveniently, there should always be some Korean hikers to follow; even on an early, foggy morning like mine there were a couple of obvious hikers to keep me right.

At the West Gate, I could barely see ANY mountains through the fog, and had no idea where I was going. You may have noticed by this point that I was alone in this little expedition! Due to the freezing conditions, and the worrying stories regarding the difficulty of some parts of the climb, I had no companions! As I passed a small cart selling climbing equipment, I remembered reading how many steep areas were accessible only by using the steel cables provided, and stopped to buy a pair of gripped gloves. These only cost 50p, and proved to be absolutely indispensible. I have no doubt in my mind that I would not have made it to the summit without these badboys.



I entered the park as the sun was beginning to rise, and it seemed that the insane fog may subside, but this was to be only a temporary relief.


My plan was to take a trail to the highest peak, Baegundae (middle sign, above), then take the long ridge trail to the South Gate, and finally to descend through the interior valley and eventually arrive back at my point of departure. I didn't really have any idea of how far, or how long this would take, but I was determined to complete my plan.



My first stop was a temple I had read about, named Sangeun-sa. This temple is tucked away inconspicuously up a small trail just before Daedong-sa. My reasons for seeking out this place, were to partake in the healing waters said to exit the mountain at this spot. According to legend, the white carved buddha in the cave here was carved by a leper who was eventually cured of his disease by drinking the water which drips down the walls of this cave. The temple and cave, have now become a pilgrimage site for others seeking a miraculous cure. As you probably know, I have had a seriously wrecked knee for a few years now, so even before we left for Korea I had decided to come here at some point.



The view across the lower peaks as the sun came up through the mist was incredible. From Sangeun-sa, there was no time for pictures as I battled up a steep and arduous trail. I spoke to many Koreans who voiced their extreme concern over my attire, in particular my tattered Adidas. Koreans can be very sheeplike, and it's quite rare to see anyone displaying any individuality in their clothing. Nowhere is this more true than on a mountain. Everyone looks identical. It's like every person has just been dipped in a large vat of North Face and then handed a pair of aluminium walking sticks. The thought that a foreigner wearing a fake North Face coat (Black Wind!), flared jeans, and old trainers could climb a mountain is seemingly utterly ridiculous to them! One guy, as nice as he was, told me I might manage the trail as far as Wi-Mun, but there was absolutely no chance I could get up to the peak. I tried to placate him with a smile and a promise that if it seemed too difficult I wouldn't attempt it, and he remained unsmiling and staunch in his opinion that it was impossible. Perhaps it was only genuine concern, but the urge to surprise these meddlers with the fact I'd been managing to put one foot in front of the other for about 26 years without falling over, was quite tempting. Having said that, the ascent to the peak, DID turn out to be much harder than I anticipated, and obviously I would have bought proper footwear by now if my feet weren't so damn massive. You know what they say about guys with big feet? You'll go barefoot in Korea.





By the time I reached Wi-Mun, the trail had become extremely icy and treacherous, and the fog had enveloped the area turning it into a smoky void. This was decision time, climb up to Baegundae, or miss it out and begin the ridge trail. I was adamant that this was to be a trip of no half measures, and it didn't take much contemplation before I started the climb.




Here we go! Thank God for my fashionable gripped gloves! It was at this point that the Korean climbers decided their expensive hiking boots weren't quite enough, and stopped to apply steel climbing spikes, while continuing to cast disparaging glances at my formidable Adidas Superstars.





From here, I should have been able to see for miles and miles. In fact, an adjacent peak, Insu-bong was apparently right in front of me!



The peak itself is very tiny, probably enough room for 10 people. It was complete ice, and the low safety rope brought back memories of drunkenly navigating my way along the perilous balcony of my old Hilltown flat. The guy who took this picture for me slipped and nearly fell off the edge. Should've worn some Adidas!

As I approached the summit, I heard a strange voice carried on the wind, and in between trying not to die, I couldn't figure out what was going on up there. What I found at the top, was representative of many of the discoveries that have made this year unforgettable. Whatever we end up doing, there always seems to be something bizarre which twists the situation into an altogether more alien and remarkable experience. The source of this noise turned out to be a very old woman, at least in her seventies, perched on a rock and chanting prayers into the surrounding storm. I honestly have no idea how she got up there. No idea. Here's a quick clip of her. I tried to be discreet, but I think she caught me near the end. I bet I'm cursed!







Getting down again was bloody difficult.



Of course, once I had descended from the peak, I looked up to see the fog finally subsiding. I was up there! From the point of this picture, I began the ridge trail. All in all, the climb from the park gate to the peak of Baegundae took about 4 hours. I'm sitting here drinking some red wine now, so this blog is about to enter the "Photo/Caption" stage...... Here's a bunch of photos showing the occassionally tricky ridge trail all the way around to Daenammun (Great South Gate).













This picture was taken not too far from the south gate. In the distant background you can see Baegundae, the peak I had earlier climbed through all that fog. The weather had cleared up considerably by this point.




Best lunch ever. Kimbab, water, and a beast of an apple. After all the exertion, this was....Best. Lunch. Ever.



Oh it's bloody cold. The ridge trail mostly follows the old wall of Bukhan Sanseong (Fortress). This fortress must have been a monster, with walls 9 metres high. Can you imagine trying to conquer this place? Hiking up for hours then having 9 metre walls impeding your progress. It must have been quite a stronghold.




Nojeok-bong, the peak above, is the subject of a fairly entertaining and preposterous legend. Allegedly, the famous Joseon dynasty warrior monk Sammyeong-daesa came to Bukhan-san when Japanese forces pushed up the peninsula in the 1590's. He gathered his men in this valley, and in order to outwit the invading japanese troops, he ordered his men to cover Nojeok-bong in straw bags to make it resemble a massive pile of rice. Seeing it, the Japanese decided there must certainly be too many Korean soldiers based in the valley for them to succeed in battle, and even if they were to lay siege, it would be impossible to starve them out. The trick worked, and the Japanese withdrew. Allegedly. Genius story nonetheless.

After reaching the South Gate, I made my way back to the West Gate by way of the inner valley trail, by far the easiest stretch of the day, thankfully. The entire trek took about 9 hours, and was absolutely incredible. I finished off with a couple of beers under the watchful gaze of these buddha statues at an old abandoned temple. This dog was so cool, I wanted to take him home. The guilt of the Boshintang experience brought a bitter taste to my mouth. I try to tell myself I ate an ugly ill-tempered bastard of a dog anyway, not a groovy dog like this. So it's all good.

Got home at 6pm, got drunk, went into Hongdae, got more drunk, danced to a band doing a funky instrumental cover of Paranoid Android, had a huge snowball fight, a potentially bad altercation with a dodgy taxi driver, and hurt like hell for the next whole week due to the hike. My muscles were as sore as an epilectic person's after a rave. But it was well worth it, bring on the next one.




(Starting at the bottom.... RED- West Gate-Baegundae, BLUE- Wimun-South Gate (Ridge trail), GREEN- South Gate-West Gate (Valley trail).)

DMZ and JSA

Ever since arriving in Korea, one of the things that most interested us was the tour of the DMZ (Demilitarized Zone), and, in particular, the JSA (Joint Security Area), also known as Panmunjeom. The events which unfolded a couple of months back piqued our interest even further.

The DMZ stretches for 241 kilometres across the waist of the peninsula, and was established at the end of the Korean war. While the area south of this zone is hyper-militarized, the DMZ itself is essentially a no-man's land. Aside from Panmunjeom, the area consists of barbed wire fencing, guard posts, and patrolling mobile units. Also, within this area, are two villages, one in the North, and one in the South. Of course, the South Koreans refer to these two villages as "Freedom Village" (South), and "Propaganda Village" (North), and I would imagine the North Koreans swap these names around.

Our tour guide briefed us on the weight and importance of this tour, and informed us of a few things to adhere to in order to avoid jeopardizing the proceedings. For instance, once inside Panmunjeom, we were not allowed to point at anything. If North Korean guards thought our fingers were a gun, they were liable to shoot us. Also, we were to refrain from any interaction with the "other side" whatsoever; if they waved, we were under orders not to acknowledge it in any way. Many of the rules stemmed from the possibility that many things can be twisted into some kind of propaganda by the North. Up until recently, there was a strict dress code involved on these tours which prohibited the wearing of jeans, as North Korea viewed the wearing of jeans as a sign of poverty, and used this in propaganda regarding how poor the South was.



Our first stop on the tour was "Freedom Bridge" at Imjingak. After the armistice of 1953 , over 13,000 prisoners of war crossed this bridge, regaining their freedom in the South. The picture at the top of this post is an assortment of tributes at the far side of the bridge. These offerings and messages are left by South Koreans, hopeful of unity with the North, as Koreans are not permitted to go any further. The DMZ tours are open to foreigners only. If unity should ever happen in the future, the railroad at this point is just waiting to be connected to the North. You can see I relented to the bitter cold recently, and joined the ranks of the Korean puffer coat brigade. Nice!



Here is Northy getting cosy with a South Korean guard in the main conference building. These guys are required to be at least six feet tall, and a black belt in taekwondo. They wear these glasses at all times to hide their eyes. I'm guessing they're pretty handy in a scrap. And if not, they have guns anyway.




Through the centre of this conference room, where all major meetings and discussions take place, runs the border line. In fact, the border runs exactly through the centre of the microphone on the central table, and is the only place where you can freely step into North Korea, and just as freely step back again. The symbolic actions which have occurred in this room, are sometimes dampened by the ludicrous acts of pettiness which have blighted attempts at reconciliation over the years. One day, a flag was brought in by one side that was slightly larger than the flag of the other. At the next meeting, this smaller flag was replaced by a flag larger than that of the other side. On alternate meeting days, the respective sides brought in continually larger flags until the flags were too big to bring inside the building. Similarly, the North Koreans added a third story to their main building, to be higher than the building in the South. And wait until you see the size of the flagpole further down.

(There's a North Korean guard. Go on, give him a wave!)

(An American guard and a Korean guard. Our escorts for the day. Not the most jovial people you'll ever meet, but given the circumstances we can let them off)

(The Korean guards all stood, facing the North side, half hidden behind the corners of each building. This looked very strange, like the ending of Blair Witch. The reason for this was to present less of a target should someone get an itchy trigger finger on the other side.





As I mentioned earlier, there are two villages within the DMZ. The village in the South has a 100 metre tall flagpole, while the village in the North, as pictured above, has a pretty impressive 160 metre high flagpole. Rumour has it, that "Propaganda Village" has no permanent residents, and maintenance workers and farmers from nearby Gaeseong are bused in every day to create a lived-in appearance, and then taken home at night. Children are also brought in to play, and the lights are all switched on and off automatically, all to give the impression of this wonderful life in the North.



The last stop on the tour, was the "Bridge of No Return". This area achieved notoriety after the axe murders which took place in 1976. While cutting down a tree impeding the view of the guard post, civilian workers and their armed guards were besieged by a truckload of North Korean soldiers wielding clubs and axes. As a result of this vicious attack, two U.S Army captains were axed to death. This marker shows the position of the tree. If you've ever seen the Korean movie J.S.A, you'll probably recognize this bridge.



After the tour, we bought some toxic North Korean wine, which we have saved until Xmas Day. It's been quite a struggle holding off drinking sediment filled 18% wine that smells like a fat man's crotch, but it's now the 22nd, so we're almost there. We then went out in Hongdae in Seoul, and I got ill and poofed off home. Gotta be the first time ever! Here's me feeling sick, and Northy trying to molest some locals.

Cheerio!

Bye Mickey!

With great sadness, I announce to you that Mickey has left our ranks. He had to move house recently and it would've been to far away to come to our school. He's been our favourite from the first week, so maybe that's a huge sign for us to move on at the end rather than renew our contract. Anyway, let's have a tribute to the little tyke.....

(It took forever to physically pose Mickey for this photo, as he kept managing to fall over the wall trying it himself!)

(Aaaw the camouflage wifebeater. He had some pretty funky clothes actually, such as a tiny bomber jacket and baggy combats, but he spent more time with his breeks down "investigating" himself. Dirty midden. One thing would always be guaranteed though. If you walked into a class, his shoes and socks would be off, and he wouldn't know where they were. On this occasion, the socks in question stayed missing for quite some time, and many tears were shed.)

(Me and Mickey enjoying some crap game on the Playstation 2. While many of his classmates continued to murder beyond recognition complex phrases such as "My name is...", Mickey once told me at great length, as best he could, about how his Super Mario game was broken and maybe his Gran would buy him a new one. Little genius! Once I asked him what he wanted to be when he was older, and he said.... "I want to be a doctor........a love doctor!". Then he fell over laughing, as always.

(Forever the curious outcast among his peers, he would often find hmself alone during field trip snack times. Don't feel bad for hm though, it was mostly his own doing, and the lack of any core friends was the kind of thing that just wouldn't register with Mickey. He was much more interested in telling you about his sketchbook. He always had some quality snacks on these trips, which he would distribute generously! The king of the honey coated peanut things!)

(Always a keen participant in some "Rock, Scissors, Paper", or high-fiving action, although he never really understood them. I feel bad that I never really understood "Ice Game". For 10 months he asked me to play this game with the class, and I could never comprehend what he meant. A few times we played a rough attempt at "Ice Game", and it seemed to be the good old "Zombie Game", with the added defence of the kids being able to call "Ice", and become invulnerable. Which made it difficult for me, surrounded by a constant chorus of "Ice!!". The chickens. And.....crap game Mickey!



(Another field trip, and another packet of crisps the same size as him. Also note the snazzy trainers, and denim jacket complete with glow in the dark space planets. A total dude.)



(He could talk forever about such random topics in English, but anything requiring the slightest bit of coordination and he was doomed. Colouring, cutting, glueing, walking, standing up.....these were all functions just out of Mickey's grasp. )

Seriously, I make light of it, but we are both genuinely sad to see him go. He was responsible for literally hundreds of laughs in school, and Sammy Class is greatly lacking his inimitable presence. He had come a long way since the consistent fog horn wailing of the first couple of months, so hopefully we played a part in that.

Next post..... we went to the DMZ. It was very interesting, and we didn't get shot. Even Northy with his allegedly provocative hippy haircut.

And in other news..... I completed a solo mission of conquering Bukhansan National Park. Wait and see the conditions this was done in, you'll most likely think I'm a retard. But I loved it.

Hopefully post the DMZ by the weekend, but if not, I hope everyone has a good Christmas!