Seoraksan: My battle against the rocks.

I spent weeks mentally preparing for this journey.  I knew it was going to be one of the hardest things I've every done.  I imagined the title of my blog post, recanting the tale, would be written as something like "Seoraksan:  The day I conquered a mountain" or "Shira (n): queen of Seoraksan".  In the last hour of the hike, while I attempted to think of anything but the aches and pains ringing through my body like a cymbal, I imagined the title would end up more like "Seoraksan:  the day I died on a mountain" or "I fought the mountain and the mountain won".





Thus begins the tale of my clumsy attack of Seoraksan.  I can warn you, its long.  I can assure, it gets more and more entertain as you go along...

The beginning of the most incredible hike of my life (and I use incredible in both a positive and negative sense) started on a Friday night.  I came home from work, took a quick nap, ate some mandoo, then met Natalie at the North Cheongju Bus Terminal where we would be departing for Seoul.  Our ride was full of anticipation of what was to come, we were nervous but mostly excited.  In hindsight, we should have been mostly nervous.

On our way to Seoul

An hour and a half later we arrived in Seoul with enough time to search the underground shopping center for the hats we had yet to purchase but knew we would need on a 13 hour hike.  Most of the little shops had closed, so we grabbed what we could then went to meet our fellow hikers at the predetermined meeting spot.

Seoul Subway Selfie

 Sitting in the McDonalds and avoiding eating fries before our big hike, we talked about what we had brought in preparation.  Natalie and I were fully stocked with water, pears, mandarin oranges, apples, two things of kimbap, four peanut butter and apple or apple jam sandwiches, trail mix, crackers and brownies.  The information given to us said there would be shelters to purchase food, but we weren't taking any chances.  We were wearing thin, light clothing with two additional layers packed away in our new hiking back packs.  Including our new wind breaker jackets, light enough to carry around but still effective against wind and rain.  We were also sporting our matching Korean hiking shoes that we had decided were probably worth the purchase.  (See more on that later)  We felt ultra prepared.

Crowded, itty bitty, bus.

Within an hour our buses arrived.  We had anticipated two large express style vehicles with plenty of space for our bags and reasonable room to hunker down and sleep for the three hour drive to our location.  As this would be the only chance to sleep that night.  What showed up were two teeny tiny buses with no luggage carrier, no room to move, and no aisle space, as even the aisles had a fold down chair that someone had to squeeze into.  Our small group chose to sit in the back row of the bus, a poor decision as it sat in just the right position that every little bump we went over made us airborne.  Not conducive for sleep.  We spent the next three hours getting into about 72 different positions attempting to find a comfortable spot to catch some zzz's.  Nothing worked.  We were even on the floor at one point using the seat of the chair as a pillow.  Just when we would actually manage to drift to sleep a bump would come, jolting us into consciousness.

Cold but excited.

Owen pointing the way.

 We arrived groggy at 3:00 am to our destination, stumbled out of the bus and quickly put on all of our layers as it was freezing outside.  Our group met at the map of the hike where Owen, our leader, told us the route we would be taking.  At that point, with no sleep, it was all I could do to remember that we had to go right, left, left, or was it left, left, right?  We snapped a photo of the map, purchased our entrance tickets and began our journey.


Natalie and I were under the impression that the 18 of us would stick together on this trip, fighting the good fight as a team.  We were wrong.  It was more like, "find a few people going at your pace and stick with them".  Owen was fast with his long legs and disappeared from our sight pretty quickly.  A group of five of us ended up hiking about the same pace and stuck together as much as possible with our flashlights and head lamps leading the way.  The ground went from dirt to rocks to rock-stairs, to boulders.  Before I knew it, I was already out of breath, exhausted, and my heart was beating so fast I swore it was going to pop out of my chest.  I sat for a second, let the others go ahead of me, and waited until it calmed down.

A few minutes later I began the trek on my own.  I could see their lights waaay up in the distance, but only for a moment before they disappeared.  I knew I had to move pretty quick to catch up with them.  Heading up a mountain with no light but the little flashlight I had was a harrowing task.  I didn't like it one bit.  It felt dangerous and confusing.  There were times I would lose the trail and have to look around me as far as the flashlight would lead, taking guesses as to if I was heading in the right direction.  Not a great feeling. The only good part about being in the dark, was being unable to see the steep drop behind me that I had just climbed, or how much further I still had to go ahead of me.

Eventually I caught up with the group, and we hiked together until the sun started to rise.  Pausing for a while to take photos.  We thought about how beautiful it was, how happy we were to see daylight, and how amazing this hike was going to be.  I was feeling better, my body was starting to get on the same page as me, understanding it was in for a long haul.  I had no clue, at the time, how long that haul would be.

Happy to see the sun.

Everything was still exciting at this point, and as the sun exposed the incredible views to us we were taken away at the mountain's beauty.  It was magnificent.  I could safely say it was the most beautiful mountain scenery I have ever seen.  The photos I have don't even come close to doing it justice.

First lemme take a selfie.

We continued to hike along, hitting peaks, pausing for breaks, taking pictures and enjoying the incredible views.  It was a busy time of year for Seoraksan.  October is the best time to hike because it's not too hot, nor too cold, and the fall colors make the views even more amazing.  Most of the Koreans we passed were very courteous, allowing us to go first, stepping out of our way, and even offering us food along the route.  You could tell they were pretty impressed with us for taking on this task.  In case you didn't read my previous post, Koreans are beasts when it comes to hiking.  Most of the people on the path were older than us by at least 10-15 years and they were kicking our ass.  As we stepped delicately from rock to rock, scared that the wrong step would lead to our plummet down the mountain, they glided along with their hiking sticks as if it were nothing but a cement road.

Gongryong (Dinosaur) Ridge

To be perfectly honest with you, at this point the hike gets a little fuzzy.  I'm not sure how many peaks we hit before reaching our ultimate destination, Dinosaur Ridge aka Gongryong (공룡) Ridge. And I can no longer recall the exact order of things; did we have lunch on the ridge or before the ridge?  No idea.  What I do know is that it was demanding up until this point, but when we reached those ridges, it was a complete game change.  We went from a strenuous but beautiful hike to a terrifying but exhilarating mountain climb.  It was as if, all of a sudden, we were in the Hunger Games, each peak of the ridge had it's own terrifying obstacle to overcome; from extreme cliffs, to the rope obstacle course, to the peak of slippery sand.  Supposedly, there were six peaks in the ridge, but I counted 85...or maybe it just felt that way.

The first peak was by far the most spine-chilling of them all.  These ridges were thin, with not much room between death on your right, or scarier death on your left.  We suddenly realized we weren't just on a demanding hike, we were on a treacherous one.  We had about 3-4 feet across to get over the first peak with a sudden and extremely terrifying drop on our left.  A couple of the girls froze with fear, one even had a bit of a panic attack, unable to move forward or backwards.  I would have panicked as well, but I can't stand seeing someone so distraught, so it was as if making them feel safe helped me ignore my own trepidation.  I even stood on the edge of a few of the more harrowing areas as a human barrier between them and the drop, so they could pass with less distress.  I don't say this to boast, I say it out of sheer shock that I was able to do that in spite of my own fear.  Matt, the only guy in our group, was happy to go ahead and scout out what was coming up next to warn the girls if they should avoid looking left or looking right, whichever side was more petrifying.  Kate went in front of the girls, I sandwiched myself in between, and we formed a human chain to get past the scariest parts.

Nothing behind that rock but a straight shot down..

The peak of a thousand rocks.

After that peak the rest were manageable, but arduous.  There were times where we had to pull ourselves up or lower ourselves down with a rope in the steepest areas.  It always seemed as if the ropes ended just a few feet before we wanted them to, making the last couple steps quite a challenge.  We were going up just as much as we were going down at this point and I was beginning to realize that as hard as it was to go up, going down was certainly more annoying, requiring more concentration and effort on my knees which had begun to make some complaints.

Lies, all lies.

The worst part about the hike were the incredibly inaccurate signs indicating how many more km we had to go until the next resting spot.  We were told there was a valley after the ridge so if we could get through this incredible rock climb we would be smooth sailing on our valley.  However, the signs indicating the distance until the valley continuously contradicted themselves.  One said 5.5 km left, but after hiking for what must have been at least 2 km the very next sign would say 5.3 km left.  Another would say 4.2 km but the one after that would say 4.6 km.  It left us grasping fists full of hair and screaming "why???" to the heavens.  It was truly a mind f*ck.  (Excuse my French)  When you are mentally preparing yourself for a certain distance before relief and the information changes with every sign, the task becomes exponentially more difficult.




We eventually decided that "km" didn't mean kilometers, it meant "Korean meters", which are an entirely new form of distance measurement and we should just not look at the signs at all.  Still, every time we came down a peak, thinking we had reached the end, we ended up beginning to hike upwards again.  I remember constantly asking "why are we going up???" with frustration, especially after the last peak of the ridge, when you turn a corner and end up going up another large "bonus peak" as Matt called it.  The only thing pushing us along was the idea of this approaching valley and the truly spectacular sights around us.  We also knew that between the ridges and the valley was our first shelter.  A place to buy some food and water, and maybe even catch a fifteen min nap.  (Remember we have done all of this on zero sleep)

This Korean man decided to enjoy his lunch on a rock that had nothing behind him but certain death.

Scary rope climbs throughout the hike.

Happy to wait my turn while I watched the Koreans do it first.

Natalie and I making our descent.

See ya ridges of terror (and beauty).

The last hour before reaching the shelter we pushed ourselves pretty hard.  We talked about resting, and sleeping, and eating, and having a bathroom break somewhere other than in the woods, behind a rock.  When we arrived to the shelter the word disappointment doesn't even come close to what we were feeling.  The bathrooms had such a horrific smell that we opted to use our "rock restroom" the next chance we had on the trail instead of entering into these tiny rooms of smelly death.  Our hearts sank when we realized the only food they had needed to be cooked, and you needed to provide you're own method of cooking it.  All we wanted was a hot meal for the last two hours.  The exasperation we were feeling at this information, combined with the language barrier, kept us from realizing that we could have at least purchased some hot white rice, something we found out the next day.  Natalie and I had made good use of our food, and thankful for every last bit that we had carried around all day.  We still had two sandwiches left and were more tired than hungry so we divided them up and shared with those in our group who needed it.

We decided to skip the nap and just keep pressing forward.  We realized we were behind the other groups and if we were going to catch the bus back to the motel for the night we would need to push.  I'm not sure if it was determination, delusion, or our anger at the disappointing shelter but Natalie, Matt and I flew through the next part of our journey.  We moved as fast as we could, coming down the mountain and towards the valley, the only other thing we had been looking forward to.

A much needed rest.

Yep those are people climbing down a rope.  Yep we just did that.

From the very beginning of this trip and even now, we were walking on rocks, dangerously askew, "hard as a rock" rocks.  We wanted nothing more than a dirt road.  Our poor feet and sore knees wanted nothing more than a FLAT dirt road.  Instead it just seemed as if we were going down the mountain forever.  About 30-45 minutes into this downward, rocky, sprint towards the valley that never came, we realized we were in the "valley".  Except what they call a valley in Korea is a freakin' GORGE.  Call it a ravine, call it a canyon, call it a gully, but Korea...I beg of you, do not tell foreigners there is a "valley" coming up ahead when you mean an area of steep rocky walls with a stream running through it.  That, by definition, is a gorge.

More rope obstacle courses

Natalie, deciding what to do next.  This one required some thought.

Still, we moved forward, now more angry then ever.  Angry at the shelter with no food and stinky toilets, angry at the gorgevalley, and angry at every single rock that we stepped on.  We cursed the rocks for the next couple hours while we pressed ahead, realizing now we were chasing sunlight, with limited time until the sun was going to disappear on us.  The faster we moved the more my knees buckled, my back ached, and my toes, ramming up against my shoes, had begun to scream with pain with every step I took.  We fought through the pain and fled down the gorgevalley.

One of the only "flat" parts of the gorgevalley

Side note:  The gorgevalleycanyongully was actually pretty damn beautiful.  There were more colorful leaves than up on top of the peaks, and we passed waterfall after waterfall, spilling into gorgeous turquoise pools of water.  Sometimes I was in such pain and such a rush to end the hike that all I could bitterly mutter was "yeah pretty" as I glanced quickly towards the view without losing my footing on the rocks.  Other times the sights were so breathtaking I forced myself to stop, take it in, and take a photo.

We realized that we had gone far ahead of Kate and Teresa, who were moving slower because of Teresa's sore ankle so we stopped at the second shelter to wait for them.  I was happy for the rest.  After about 20 minutes they never came and we became increasingly terrified of the idea of hiking in the dark again so we started to move on without them.  Kate and Teresa are some strong ladies, we had no worries that they would be ok without us, and they were together.  Still, as the sun began to set and we were once again plummeted into darkness, our thoughts were on them, hoping they were ok.  We tried to call them a few times, but knowing how much concentration it takes to step carefully from rock to rock in the dark, with shaky legs and an exhausted state of mind, we weren't surprised that they weren't able to pick up their phones at the time.

Moving along in the dark, I heard bats and I saw large spiders crossing my path in the light of my flashlight.  But I didn't care.  Everything hurt, I was tired, I was cranky and I had no more pretty views to distract me.  My legs were shaking so bad I had to focus all my attention on stepping in the right place.  The very last thing I wanted to do was fall within the last couple km.  An injury at this point would be ridiculously upsetting, after going so far.  But it was also just the kind of luck I'm used to having.  So I was more than aware of my foot placement.  I can also safely say that the Korean hiking shoes we purchased saved our life that day.  I didn't fall once on the entire trip, which is pretty impressive whilst doing the tango on rocks for 16 hours.  Probably the smartest purchase of my life so far.

There were times when I really didn't think I could walk any more but of course, that just wasn't an option.  Just as we were reaching the end my adrenaline kicked in, numbing my pain, and putting my legs on automatic.  Owen had been continually checking in on us to make sure we were still alive.  He had reached the end about 30 min before us and called to tell us that they had just left in the bus, we would have to take a cab to the motel.  At this point, we honestly didn't care about anything.  We reached the end of the trail unceremoniously and 16.5 hours after we had started.  We practically fell into a cab since our knees no longer wanted to bend.

Turns out there was a huge Buddha at the end.  I barely cared enough at the time to take a quick photo.

Sooo happy to see these.

Those who had hiked less intense courses were out drinking when we arrived to the motel.  Clearly, that was not an option for us.  We opted to eat ramen in our motel room, watch terrible television and continue to try to reach Kate and Teresa until we were finally given word that they were ok and on their way to join us.  I slept very well that night (to no surprise) and woke up with burning thighs and a slightly less intense inability to bend at the knees.  After a KBBQ lunch we piled back into our teeny tiny buses and headed back to Seoul.

The motel was a block from the beach, so we allowed our poor feet to enjoy some sand and water time.

Dippin Dots before boarding the bus - because we deserved them.

Just another typical Korean reststop

Korean Wine - Penis Cap - Because Korea

The three hour drive to the Seoul Express Bus Terminal turned into a five hour drive with traffic.  It was 7:45 pm when we hit the outskirts of the city and our bus home was at 8:10.  Being that it was a Sunday night, if we missed this bus, we would have to wait for the next available seat and go to the furthest terminal from my apartment, meaning another 2-3 hours added on to the trip home.  Realizing we had only one option left Natalie and I got the attention of the entire bus and explained our situation.  Everyone rallied for us, separated so we could squeeze to the front of the itty bitty bus, asked the driver to pull over and helped us determine the quickest way to the terminal.  We hopped in the closest cab, arrived at the terminal at 7:55 and ran as fast as we could, looking like fools.  "I can't Natalie" I heard myself cry at her, my legs in shock that I was asking them to run after all they had been through.  "You can!" she shouted back.  So I did.

We made it onto the bus at 8:06, the bus began to depart at 8:08.  Thus ending our more than memorable Seoraksan experience.


The End

The happy five living life on the edge.

Author's Note:  

Am I glad I did the hike?
Yes.  I did what I set out to do, even though it was incredibly demanding, painful, and exhausting.  Which is extremely symbolic of almost everything in my life.  I needed this win.  I needed to do something I never thought I could possibly do.  And this fit the bill better than I ever could imagine.

Would I do this hike again?
[Insert curse word here] NO!

Would I recommend that anyone else do this hike?
Absolutely.  This hike gave me views that were some of the best, most beautiful scenery I have ever seen.  Each time we hit a new peak, we would turn around and look at the one we came from, astonished that we had managed to climb that.  The overwhelming pride and overwhelming beauty make it a must see/must do while in Korea.  And at least you can't say I didn't warn you. :)

A few facts for you...
That day we hiked 22.5 km, which is about 14 miles and over 30,000 steps (each of those steps were on rocks, by the by).  The highest peak of Gongryong Ridge is 1,200 meters, which is about 4,000 feet.  Gongryong means dinosaur because the ridges look like the spine of a Stegosaurus. Seoraksan is the third highest mountain in Korea.  The hike we took is one of the hardest and longest hikes in Korea.

And some more pretty pictures for you...

Seoraksan - dun dun duuuun!

A lot of the trees permanently grew this way because of the crazy wind.

Chipmunk!

Pretty yet terrifying...or pretty terrifying?

The girl on the left gave up about 1/3 of the way in and went back down.  No one blamed her.