Seoraksan and Snot-Rockets.
It was the most intense and proudest moment of my life…well perhaps second proudest after graduating with my MA, but I digress.
My journey to Seoraksan—the third highest mountain in South Korea—began the night of Friday October 15th at 11:20PM; armed with one backpack filled with extra clothes and snacks, not to mention two lovely ladies: Lauren and Courtney. We met three other fine travelers—and friends of my hiking companions—Amy, Chris and Amy’s dad Ste, who later became my most favorite Englishman. You’ll have to read to find out why.
We boarded the bus with excitement and vigor, not knowing exactly what was in store for us in the coming hours. No one was really able to get a proper kip in the approximately three hours it took for us to arrive at the base of the Beast. Once we had arrived and prepared ourselves—or so we thought—for the cold awaiting us outside, we stepped off of the bus into the darkness of 2:40AM, looked at each other and didn’t need to say a thing, as it was written on all of our faces: “What. The. Hell. Are. We. DOING?”
Alas, it was too late, our money was paid, and there was no where to go but up and over. There was the obligatory final pee stop at the base; where there were, it seemed, hundreds of Koreans drinking coffee, eating noodles and, of course, smoking cigarettes. So, at 3:00AM on the nose we began our ascent. In the first five minutes, as my calves stiffened and felt like lead, I began to think there was no chance I was ever going to make it to the finish. I just thought to myself: “Self. There ain’t a damn thing you can do about it now, just keep putting one foot in front of the other.” And so I did. Which, as it turned out, was both not as difficult as I imagined, and hard as hell. Hard as hell because unlike everyone else, I had no flashlight. As a result, I would walk in between two people with flashlights or headlamps and do the bob-and-weave, in order to get my own shadow out of the way and actually see the ground—or rather ROCKS—in front of me.
After no time at all, I started to sweat from exertion, and peeled my under-layers off. With this new found warmth came the flow of snot. As a skier of twenty-three years, I have become an accomplished snot-rocketier. It seemed every five minutes or so I would blow a snot-rocket, much to the amazement of my companions, and perhaps disgust. I did my best to aim away from my feet, and the feet of those around me…we never did check to see if I had aimed well.
The way up was a combination of stairs, which we dreaded, gravel paths—unfortunately few and far between—and rocks, or at times boulders. I should pause here and explain what it was like to be hiking with hundreds of other people, primarily Koreans. Koreans take their hiking very seriously. All were armed with two hiking poles a piece; I say armed and not equipped for a reason, as they had no qualms about using their poles, or massive backpacks, to shove us slow westerners out of their way to the top. God forbid they miss the sunrise atop the mountain. It was also incredible hiking with all these people. The sight alone of hundreds of flashlights and headlamps trailing up the mountain was a sight to rival the stars, which I have never seen shine so brightly. The Milky Way was clearly visible—being so far away from the urban jungle that is Seoul—and individual stars beamed down on us in an attempt, it seemed, to help light our way.
Back to my tale of triumph. Slowly, and at times very slowly as we encountered traffic jams, we made out way to the top. Peak by peak, we always thought our destination was the next one along. Of course it never was. By about 6:30AM we no longer needed flashlights; my fears of falling off the edge, due to a lack of any semblance of depth perception in the darkness, waned. As the sun rose it cast an amazing red glow on the fall foliage blanketing the surrounding mountainsides; a sight I will never forget…I hope. Though, knowing my memory that could be a challenge.
We reached what we though was the top, yet again, as the sun was reflecting off the ocean in the distance. A breathtaking sight that was only eclipsed by the breathtaking power of the wind, which literally took our breath away. We could only stay there for a few minutes, lest little Lauren and Amy be blown off the top, or we all freeze to death. Peak after peak, again, we thought we were close, and kept walking with the hope that soon we would be able to rest.
At 8:00AM, after five hours of hiking, we finally reached the first shelter—where we also encountered hundreds of pushy Koreans, and even stronger, frostier winds. After a bit of searching we were able to find some massive wooden—for lack of a better word—bunk-beds. Really, they were places people could crash for either the night, or for a small nap. They were about five feet deep, ran the entire length of the twenty-five foot room, and were two levels high. The six of us climbed atop the second shelf, ate our PB&J sandwiches, dried mango, and copious amounts of nuts…right before we collapsed for about a half-hour due to both exhaustion and food comas.
At 9:00AM we were roused again, gathered our clothes about us and headed out to finish our hike. I didn’t know how it was possible, but the wind was even colder and stronger. The clouds in which we were immersed whipped by us at alarming speed, and even I thought I would have been blown off the edge had we paused to take in the incredible sights.
We soldiered on towards the next shelter. Once we were about a half-hour away from the first shelter, the mountain shielded us from the biting winds and we were able to thaw out. There were copious amounts of photo opportunities that we could finally take advantage of; as we had, by that time, regained the use of our fingers.
Now, instead of dreading the stairs, we relished in their ease, and began to dread the rocks we had found easier on our way up. After a few hours—and an incredibly full bladder on my part—we reached the second shelter, where we were able to strip off our layers and relieve ourselves in the oh-so-lovely squatter outhouses—very special indeed.
It was the moment of truth. We had reached the shelter ever so slightly before the cut off time to take the sixteen hour hike along Dinosaur Ridge. Our answer to the eternal question of whether or not to brave the longer hike: “Hell. No.” By this time our joints had stiffened, and our exhaustion from both lack of sleep, and seven hours of hiking under our belts, told us it would be better if we took the shorter “easier” eleven hour hiking trail back to the base. We soldiered along for about another half-hour before we found a few boulders where we could rest in the warm autumn sun and eat some more nuts. In the end, we stopped for about an hour, sleeping for the majority of it. Not the most comfortable sleep of our lives…
Upon waking, we found our knees were in even more pain; having stiffened in our sleep, due to the fact that they were bent at odd angles so as to keep them out of the way of the Koreans’ determined feet. Rock by rock, we made our way down, and down…and down. Just as it was on the ascent, so it was on the descent: when we thought we had reached the bottom we discovered there were still a few kilometers to go. However, it leveled out—relatively speaking—as we followed a stream through the valley. This was yet another incredible sight, with the fall colors and the crystal clear blue-green water. Something so tantalizing it made me determined to return in the summer.
Along the way we met a new friend Desiree, a lovely girl from Vancouver, and she joined our group for our final few hours out. A mere fourteen hours after beginning our hike, we reached the bottom. To my massive surprise, I was still standing. After having had no real physical activity—other than dancing—in the three weeks I had been in Korea, I was immensely proud of myself. How did we all reward ourselves for this accomplishment?
We slept for twelve hours.
The next day, our group of nearly eighty went to have some sundubu (spicy tofu soup), a delicacy of the area. I must say, it was the most incredible tofu I’ve ever had. It was almost creamy in taste, and with all the sides and rice it made for one incredible meal.
After our lunch, we were taken to a beach nearby where we spent the next two hours in the sun before we boarded the bus home. This is when Ste stole the title of “Favorite Englishman”. Not only was he a pleasure to have hiking along with us; but upon discovering it was I who had been blowing snot-rocket after snot-rocket on our way up, he shook my hand, told me how impressed he was with me and that I had made his trip. Finally a man who can appreciate a good snot-rocket.
All in all, this was a fabulous weekend filled with good people, good—and at times grueling—hiking, but most of all a sense of physical accomplishment I have never felt before in my life.
My goal: conquer Dinosaur Ridge before I leave Korea.
We’ll see.
Global Gathering. It was an interesting evening.
The Gathering.
So far Korea has not disappointed on the entertainment value. My first weekend here I was fortunate enough to go out to a scrumptious Korean meal with three Americans, one Irish, and three Koreans. Very international of me, I know.
Not only was I able to enjoy this fabulous meal with some fantastic people, but I was invited out on my very first Korean date. From what I gather this is a—somewhat—rite of passage for Westerners traveling in Korea. You have to partake in the food, the culture, and the dating scene. Sadly, my poor suitor did not speak much English, and I fear he may have lost some of his soju induced courage; alas, I never heard from him. From my experience so far, however, I do believe my blonde hair and blue eyes will land me another proposition in no time. Hell, even the ajumma (old lady) serving us that night was drooling over my Westernly looks, saying I was ‘bery bootiful’. Yes, it is a bit of an ego massage.
This is not the point of my post, but rather the events that took place last weekend at Global Gathering Korea. If you know me at all, you are well aware that while living abroad, in my second home of Cork, I fell in love with electronic music. A love affair that has lasted ever since, and has no end in sight. When I found out that not only was there a music fest going on in Seoul, but that my friend Lauren was already planning on attending, I saw it as a good omen for my time here.
We went. We heard. We may have lost out minds a bit. But, we danced like idiots and had a great time. The music was fantastic, and—seeing as it had been a good three years since I had been able to enjoy my most favorite of live music—I was on Cloud Nine. Justice were fantastic, and stuck in my memory the most; since they were on earlier in the evening, this should come as no surprise. I was pleasantly surprised by Armin van Buuren. I didn’t think I would enjoy him as much; however, I couldn’t help but be roused by the crowd and danced like my life depended on it…though it could have been the soju moving me at that point. Who knows?
The only downer of the evening—the devastating blow I suffered—was I lost my Italian shades. The sunglasses I got in Venice and held onto for five years, the ones that protected my sensitive eyes so well from the harsh rays of the sun, and made an appearance nearly every night out in Cork…were lost to be shattered beneath the feet of hundreds of drunken dancers. This may seem like an overreaction, but a part of me is gone forever. *tear*
It was a fun filled evening with good tunes and better people.
Though, it has to be said, I need to start meeting some people when there is no soju involved…and preferably ones that live in Seoul, not Incheon.
Photos to follow.
wait…did I really leave?
So, upon arriving in my new city, what do you think I noticed first? Was it the spectacular mountains in the distance, which you can see from my street? The amazing aromas emanating from the plethora of restaurants the speckle the neighborhood? No, it was the Dunkin Donuts a mere 100 yards from my doorstep. That’s right folks, not only is Dunkin Donuts in Seoul, but so far I have counted 4! (And to my delight only one McDonalds.) Clearly, Koreans have their priorities straight: CAFFEINE!
For those of you not from the Northeast, let me explain why I find this so amusing. When walking around in Boston, you are bound to see at least one Dunkin Donuts on every block; however, sometimes that is not enough for us New Englanders, and you will find multiple on one block alone. Ok, that might be a bit of an exaggeration. But, to give you an idea, when I drove to a Red Sox game from New Hampshire—about an hour and a half away—my friend Nicole and I counted 17 of them (two of which were in the stadium).
I find it incredible that I can arrive in a place where I expect everything to be completely foreign from what I’m used to, only to be welcomed by something that exemplifies home.
Funny how that works.
sometimesvolcano asked: Not so much, that I want to know something, just saying hello!
hi yourself!!
and so it begins…
It’s a quote I know well, and you know me well by it:
Too familiar to be strange, and too exciting to dread. Before long, impossible not to enjoy.
There were many titles I considered, Caitlin’s Korean Calamities came close—you know I love me some good ol’ alliteraltion—but I decided this quote from my favorite book to be more fitting. Upon reading The Beach it planted the seed of Wanderlust in my brain, which later grew with my first trip abroad to Austria, and again with my years living in Ireland, as well as my brief sojourns into the rest of Europe.
Throughout my travels I found this quote to hold true. Of course this culture I am currently moving into may seem a tad more strange than familiar in the beginning; I’m sure, before long, the enjoyment will overfloweth.
I thought this time, with this year abroad, I should document my wanderings—and calamities, as i’m sure there will be many—in order to better remember them; but also to share what little wisdom I learn from them with you. And, well, the ridiculous situations I get myself into are always good for a laugh!
I had a nicely prepared post, all witty and interesting, but of course I somehow deleted it into the Internet void where so many of my writings disappear. I sit here now, poised upon my maiden voyage to Asia….completely brain-dead. I’ve forgotten what I did yesterday already, so there’s little hope of me getting all poetic about this upcoming voyage. I hope you enjoy reading about my travels and adventures as much as I enjoy experiencing them!
I’ll miss you all, and I expect visitors.
