Dinnertime!We were greeted upon arrival by the friendly proprietor and the always amicable chef who quickly recognized Nate and I from the few previous times we have visited. As ordering is always somewhat of a problem for us, it sure was nice to have Debbie along as she can rattle off both Korean and Japanese with ease. A definite bonus when dining at a Japanese restaurant in Korea.
As always, dinner was delicious. The meal begins with a small bowl of miso soup accompanied by a warm tuna chowder that reminds me of a creamy Campbell's soup. The table begins to grow cluttered as a plate of kimchi, unfamiliar when white in color, is brought to the table along with a giant steamed radish that resembled a roasted sweet potato more than anything. As an added bonus, for we haven't ever had this dish before, the chef graciously offered us a steaming bowl of tuna heads. Not wanting to turn anything down I tried to dig in and find something edible but my efforts were simply in vain. I wasn't able to scrounge any meat out of this fishy dish but I was able to identify a jawbone at least.
Just when we started to grow anxious, out came the long awaited main course. A beautiful panoply of fresh, raw, tuna. Always wanting to please, the chef, or perhaps surgeon is a more appropriate word, offered us each a piece of fish that stood out from the others due to its thick and incredibly dark, almost black, meat. He identified this as the cheek of the tuna and insisted that we start our meal off on the right foot by consuming this delicacy first. Mmmm mmmm!
While we were munching our way through the sashimi plate, more food continued to arrive at our already over crowded table. A plate of a creamed corn was placed between Nate and I while Debbie and Steve were graced with a circular chunk of smoked tuna tail. While the corn dish was somewhat familiar, the tuna tail is a rather unique yet utterly delectable treat!
Just when we had thought that we couldn't handle any more food either on our table or in our stomachs, Dr. Chef decided to regale us with a plate of salmon and whitefish sushi. We easily made room for this new arrival by ditching the soup cups and red radish that no one seemed to be picking at. This latest dish was accompanied by a heaping mound of freshly ground wasabi as our conversation had only just before turned to the lackluster green lump that was first served with the sashimi. Now we had the real stuff to deal with and boy, did it do the trick!
The man of the hour!As we began closing in on the last few pieces of fish, I noticed MacChefinstein retreat behind the counter where his hands appeared to be moving at a feverish rate. Even so, his austere deportment would never hint at him doing any sort of frantic work. Again, leaning back in contentment was the only signal he needed to barrage us with more epicurean goodies. This time around we were treated to the cream of the crop as the newest arrivals literally shone above all the others. This final plate of prime tuna cuts (as recognized by its tenderness and darker color) was centered around a florid arrangement of our favorite fish and decorated with none other than gold flakes. A truly sybaritic display! Despite having long passed the point of satisfaction, I eagerly dove in to this unique treat, not of course before snapping a few pictures to share with the likes of you, dear reader!
Le Golden Tuna!While I presumed that this wonderful display would certainly be our last course, I had obviously forgotten about the exotic bowl of tuna entrails served as desert. Without alerting Steve to the identity of these peculiar looking nibblets, he bravely dug in. I too gave the intestines a shot, although this time I steered clear of the little sacs that pop saltwater into your mouth when you bit down on them. This is the second time we have tried to identify them and still have not been able to. Steve, good for him, was actually able to manage to get one down the hatch. A feat that neither Mr. Kochanski nor I were able to accomplish. Hilarity ensued however when were then informed that they are not meant to be consumed but rather just popped and then spit back out. Oops, what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger. . .right!?
To top off our bowl of entrails were each given a shot of a clear yet extremely viscous liquid. While Debbie refused hers, I tried to do the same but to no avail. Eventually, Nate, Steve and I tipped back, and managed to keep down this 'juice' from the inside of a tuna's eyeball. Mmmm, you haven't lived till you've drank eye juice!
The rest of the fish. . .At that point we decided it best to clear out before were were bombarded with any more parts of the fish that we weren't quite ready to deal with. We packed up and split the meal, going Dutch, to the surprise, and relief of our Korean accompaniment, Debbie. This is because if we were dining traditionally, as the oldest, and the only Korean of the bunch, she would essentially be bound by social prescription to picking up the tab. Good things we're all nice guys!
After dinner it was off to Culture Street to try and unwind and walk off a bit of our overstuffing. Even so, by the time we arrived, most everything was winding down and thus we headed back home. Not before having to deal with a gang of rowdy foreigners whom we seem prone to run into whenever swinging through Nowon. We managed to make it in to bed just before the sun rose (over the high rises at least), still planning on setting out early in to the mountains. Luckily, having woken up early all week, I was still able to roll out of bed before noon at which point we began dressing for the day's adventures on the mountain. Oh, and what an adventure it would turn out to be!
It can't be bedtime yet!Although I earlier sent Steve a message suggesting he bring adequate climbing footwear up to Junggye, he somehow overlooked this presage and turned up with only a pair of black dress shoes. Whether on purpose or not, I refused to let this slight setback get in the way of our day on the hill and was quick to lend him my tennies that we were able to get snug enough with a thick pair of SmartWool hikers. I found it slightly humorous that between the two of us, both donning my shoes, Steve got the much better fit as I still haven't found a way to shrink my size 11 hikers down to the 10 they should be! Oops, as I've sworn, no more ordering shoes online!
We met Nate downstairs and headed off towards the base of Bulamsan where we began to discuss strategy. My initial plan had been to conquer Suraksan, a local peak that is adjacent to Bulamsan that neither Nate nor I had yet ventured up. From our eighth story perch atop DYB, Mt. Surak appeared to be no more than a short jaunt from the base of Bulam and thus totally accessible by foot. We decided to head up the foot of Bulam at our primary point of entry and then make a sort of traverse over to Surak where we would eventually top out at the peak, 637m above.
Ready to Go!
Only a short way into our hike, we paused to take a look at a posted map of the twin peaks. It was then that we realized we had quite a ways to go before even reaching Surak proper as the simple traverse we had imagined actually required us getting up almost to the top of Bulam before following the only horizontal path northwest towards our desired peak. It was here where we began contemplating our different options. Sure, the trek looked manageable but it would certainly be a round about route and far from an easy, direct shot.
Our only other options however were returning to street level and either walking a mile or so through Junggyedong to Sanggyedong or simply catching a cab. The later sounded appealing though as I pointed out, we had no clue where we wanted to go other than 'Suraksan' which seemed like somewhat of a ridiculous request to make to a taxi driver, especially as we could see the mountain from where we stood, not to mention being underdressed and undersupplied for the occasion. The later observation here would later come back to bite us in our weary butts!
Deciding that we didn't want to risk the embarrassment of returning to the street, we figured we had set out early enough where a long trek would be totally manageable before sundown. As we would soon learn, timing was far from our biggest problem. Though none of us took the time to thoroughly map out our route, we had a good enough idea of what we had to do and that was go up, way up, then hang a left. While making our way up a nice paved path (where was this the last time we were forced to try scrambling up an unmanageable face?), Nate began to entertain the idea of simply climbing Bulamsan again. I negated this suggestion pointing to the fact that we've done it a decent number of times (three for me, four for Nate, one for Lars!) and that I had been planning on getting Surak out of the way all week.
As soon as I had shot the idea down, Nate quickly defended himself by clarifying that he didn't mean we should climb only Bulam but rather summit there first and then follow the high ridgeline we saw on the map all the way over to Surak. The idea of climbing two mountains in one afternoon sounded both enticing and absurd but it gained momentum with me when Nate officially designated the feat as our first 'twofer.' While I'm sure he'd love to claim responsibility for penning such catchy nomenclature, this honor is unfortunately reserved for the renowned American mountaineer, Ed Viesturs, whose book Nate had recently finished and even more recently lent to me (thanks!). Even so, with the auspicious use of a 'cool' mountaineering term, how could either Steve or I turn down the idea. We soon agreed, Steve grunting in acknowledgement of us making a decision more than recognizing the plan, and continued upward, saving our traverse for once we had already topped out on Bulam.
Mountain Flora
Setting out at noon on what was likely the hottest day of summer yet didn't do much for our comfort factor on the mountain. Though the better part of the lower path is shaded by tree growth, this also blocks any and all breeze from the trail which left us hiking through a virtual sauna. The humidity, which was easily around 90%, didn't help either! Only a few hundred meters in to the climb we had all thoroughly soaked through our shirts and I could feel the sweat from my back pooling at the bottom of my cute little bright orange DYB backpack. It certainly didn't help that both Nate and Steve were stuck in cotton t-shirts, widely regarded in both camping and traveling circles as 'death fabric' for its ability to absorb then retain water, adding weight and tempting hypothermia. Nate at least had the excuse of losing his only water wicking t-shirt on the DYB 'camping trip' while Steve was stuck in his undershirt from the night before. Sure, in retrospect I could have lent him a lightweight soccer jersey but you just don't think about that type of stuff at ten in the morning now do ya?!
My Ridiculously Good Looking Climbing Gear!
Taking yet a different route up the mountain (we've yet to ever go the same way twice), we were relieved to eventually come to a long set of wooden stairs. Though neither Nate nor I had ever climbed them, we both immediately recognized it as a sort of shortcut (despite what Viesturs says) to the top. As we predicted, only a few minutes later we shot out just under the giant boulders that mark the beginning of the final push up Bulamsan. This staired route had circumvented the first mini peak that we normally have to climb up and over in order to get to Bulamsan proper. In doing so, we had managed to save a heap of time and climbing but also missed the first rest area meaning we were still without water an hour in to our climb. As dehydrated as the three of us already were, we managed to push forward enthusiastically, knowing that just at the foot of the boulders there would be another small tent to grab a drink. Luckily, we were correct.
We stopped to have a drink in the shade and as we each downed a bottle or more of water I saw the misgiving in Steve's eyes slowly fade away. While we had promised him that there was in fact water on the mountain, neither of us had revealed that it was only available just under the summit. Oops, our fault!
Hauling Himself
Turning to tackle the final few hundred meters, we were reminded of the massive makeover that had been taking place last time we were on the mountain when Laura visited. Back in early May, we were surprised to see the skeleton of a stairway leading up towards the summit of our local peak. By late June, this skeleton had materialized into a full blown cakewalk right up to the last five meters of mountain. Not willing to give in to this newfangled climbing assistant, Nate led us up and over our usual route which involved clambering under the stairway where others easily cruised on ahead. Though the squeeze was tight, all three of us managed to get up to the top without having to use the unsightly stairway. (We wrote off the one we used earlier on in our climb as it was a new route for us and seemingly the only way up from that point.)
Bulamsan? No Problem!
Summit Team 1
It only took a quick glance to the north for my doubts to reemerge about pulling off a 'twofer.' Though due more to haze than distance, the top of Suraksan, a half mile or so away, loomed impending, daring us to go through with our somewhat reckless plan. We stayed on Bulam only long enough to snap a couple of pictures before my cotton soaked partners began to get a bit chilly. . .silly boys! In order to celebrate our first victory, we headed off the north side of the mountain towards Checkpoint Charlie where we refueled a bit on anchovies and garlic shoots while introducing Steve to the mountain tradition of a good ole' makgeolli stop.
After catching our breath and wetting our lips, we headed out a new path towards the back of our usual stop. Leaving Bulam at 508m, our hope was to find a direct line to Surak along a ridge that stayed high enough for us to avoid having to completely reclimb the mountain to Surak's peak, only a 130m above where we set off from. It didn't take long for us to realize that we were headed downhill and there was nothing we could do about it.
Scrambling Down
Even so, the trail running along the ridgeline offered some spectacular views, or at least, would have if the air wasn't so filled with whatever the heck it's filled with. (I've heard Koreans refer to this as 'cloudy' which would be about as silly as calling a smoky bar room 'foggy.') It was time to put on the sunnies as the trees has been almost entirely cleared along this long narrow path. Coming up through a lush green forest, it was strange to see this dry barren landscape that seemed to have been intentionally made as Steve pointed out a number of the trees looked as if they had been sawed down. There was no development apparent and even less of a reason that one would consider such an absurd idea. This left the three of us pondering who would have possibly undertaken such a destructive, and seemingly futile task.
Just Foolin'
Down we went and before long, both Bulam and Surak has disappeared from our sights as we were once again surrounded by dense forest. Not long after retreating under the trees, we began to hear the noise of a busy road below us. This is never a good sign when one is hoping to stay high on a mountain trail!
We shot out of the forest at a bridge that overlooked the entrance to a Korean military base. Well, that helps explain the numerous bunkers we ran into along the way. While Nate and I have both had our fill of playing around in these, it was Steve's turn to jump in and pretend to shoot at invaders with a broken stick. If only we had such fortifications to play with in Whitehills Woods!
While crossing the deteriorating bridge above a narrow two lane highway, Nate noted a sign pointing southwards that read 'Seoul.' Off to our right another marker welcomed drivers to Gyeongi Province. True to the markings on the map, we were officially straddling the line between Seoul and, well, not-Seoul.
On the other side of the bridge, we were greeted by a high fence covered in barbed wire and pocketed with dozens of painted stones. These stones, as we know from a visit to the DMZ, are used as signifiers, alerting patrols to tampering or potential weak spots in the barriers. Also attached to this long, seemingly never ending fence, were a number of small black pop cans that were wired to the inside of the fence. Despite studying these as we walked, I couldn't figure out what purpose they served. Take a look at the picture, any ideas?!
Fenced In
The path wound on forever, and we made pretty good time as the grade was nothing too intense. While this was comforting at the time, it continued to resonate with me that whatever vertical we didn't climb now, we'd only have to tackle later when we were certain to be much more exhausted then we already were. Bunkers, trenches and guardposts continued dot our path as the border to the military base seemed to stretch on for an eternity. Eventually we passed through an open door in a barbed wire fence, Nate going first to check for enemy fire, after which the fortifications ceased.
By this point we had long since drained the last of our water from Bulam and were again hankering for a drink. Our rests became more numerous as Nate would lunge ahead only to stop and catch a breath while I tried to maintain a relatively even pace and keep Steve in sights as he struggled upwards, cursing us for leading him on such a grueling initiatory expedition sans supplies.
Bulam in the background. . .
Our second climb of the day seemed endless yet I vowed to keep an indefatigable mindset, despite my body telling me otherwise. When he could catch his breath, Steve would scathe us for promising water en route when clearly there was none. This seemed odd to both Nate and I as the refueling stations are somewhat numerous on Bulamsan. Even so, we chalked it up to the backdoor route we were taking and continued to promise that there would be respite ahead.
Every few hundred yards a turn off invited us to stop and enjoy a beautiful view looking south out over Nowongu and Bulamsan. However, after pausing at the first of these reststops, none of us again showed interest in sightseeing as we were focused on much more tangible goals, like water.
Looking out towards Bulamsan
I have no idea how long it took for us to get anywhere but it wasn't quick and when we got wherever we were going, we were still far from where we wanted to be. Along the way we passed over the top of two misleading peaks that hinted at being the end of our journey. Lucky for us, these weren't our final destination as neither offered anything to drink.
Eventually, we began to pass people on the path going the opposite way. This was a much needed sign of relief as we had been climbing for hours without seeing, well, anybody for the most part. Only a few couples perched on rocks who seemed to be enjoying the snacks that they intelligently toted with themselves up the mountain.
In passing one of these groups I grew excited, pointing out to Nate that one of the hikers was munching on an empty popsicle stick. Willing to bet that they hadn't climbed the mountain carrying this little piece of wood, it seemed to presage an impending ice cream vendor. Indeed, only a few minutes later we passed another troupe, this time carrying full popsicles that still were covered in frost. I leaped into the air and let out a great 'Asa!' bolting forward to the cheery vendor who stood alongside a wooded path with nothing other than a giant backpack-box or popsicles and a couple empty bottles of makgeolli.
Although it wasn't water, a melon popsicle goes a long way when you're almost entirely dehydrated and hiking on an empty stomach. Oh yeah, we might've forgotten to eat anything before taking off in the morning but, at the time, still weighed down with tuna, it didn't seem to be a big deal. Bad decision number two.
A Rocky Road
Devouring our popsicles we hastened our pace knowing that the summit must be near. We eventually did catch sight of two looming peaks though Nate ominously commented that he hoped it wasn't the second one we were aiming for. A little ways onward we were again excited to find a large group of people scattered about amongst a number of makgeolli bottles. Usually this indicates a rest area with water but unfortunately, as we soon found out, they offered only this sweet rice wine. Nevertheless, liquid is liquid when you've stop sweating in 90 degree heat because you've literally fun out of fluid! So, we quickly pounded down a bottle between the three of us, not even bothering to dig into the mandatory side dishes. A nearby climber apparently noted our lack of snacking and came over to offer some fresh fruit he had cut up in his bag. Mmmm, this was a welcome treat that, although delicious, did little to satisfy my cravings.
We didn't linger long at this stop either and pushed upwards through ever more rocky terrain. At one point, we made a short traverse around a flat sloping rock upon which we could see a waving flag. To us, this flag symbolized the eminent summit yet, once round the corner, we found a sign pointing us yet further along the trail. Just as Nate has guessed, we were headed for the second peak.
Putting in a long, long first day!
Finally we came to the base of a few enormous rock slabs on which happy parties were making a haphazard descent, obviously excited to be heading down from the top. Scrambling up this final face I was elated to find a snack stand in the most unlikely of places, at the very summit of Mt. Surak. I ordered up a pair of waters for Nate and I just as he came in to view. We held off on getting Steve one so as not to let it warm up before he arrived, which yes, he did eventually do only a minute or so behind. After putting down two waters and two Pocari Sweats he admitted that not turning around, as he had earlier proposed to do, was the better decision. Although it might have seemed selfish to push him onwards, both Nate and I realized that the closest water, which is what we all dearly needed, was definitely upwards, and not down into some random gully.
At 637m on Suraksan Summit! Number two for the day!
After rehydrating as best as our tightened stomachs would allow, we all agreed that it was well past time to get the heck outta the woods and on to solid ground. With no real idea where we were or how to get out we did what any desperately tired hikers would do, headed down! We eventually came to a sign pointing towards Nowon-Gol, which, to us, sounded good enough. No clue how long it took us to get down but it was a mere fraction of the time we spent covering the same distance on pitched, or even flat ground as we literally bounded down the mountain, Nate at the lead.
Exhausted
Only a few wrong turns later we found ourselves at the bottom of Nowon Gully (which must be what Gol means in Korean, only a guess here). At this small rest area we were able to fill our empty bottles with 'fresh' spring water pouring from a mountainside tap. No clue as to the true hazard of drinking this stuff but a good number of the locals do and usually that's a pretty safe bet. None of us are sick, yet!
We shot out of the mountain and celebrated our safe arrival on solid ground by parking our butts in the nearest chairs we could find, just outside a local store which was obviously converted to a hikers hangout on the weekends. It didn't take long before we were approached by the drunk old men at the neighboring table who insisted on buying us makgeolli and then snacks, seeing that we didn't have any dried fish on our table. A total faux pax in the world of Korean drinking.
Nate was attacked by this larger than life moth which our friendly neighbor informed us is an 'intoxicating' species. Whether he meant poisonous or exhilarating, we'll likely never know!
Walking through Nowon Gol I was excited to see a number of mountaineering stores, just the place I've been looking to stop in on to research backpacks for my imminent journey throughout SEAsia. I'll let you know how the search goes!
As the sun began heading for the horizon we decided it was well past time to get on back to Doota, change out of our disgusting clothes and head out to a big ole' BBQ dinner. Which, is exactly what we did!
Tan, or dirt. . .take a guess
While they might not be the biggest mountains in Korea, or even Seoul for that matter, we did manage to pull of Nate's audacious suggestion of summiting two peaks in one day. Sure, it's a far cry from 'climbing the world's 14 highest peaks,' but when's the last time you pulled off a real twofer!
Alone at the top. . .
We met Nate downstairs and headed off towards the base of Bulamsan where we began to discuss strategy. My initial plan had been to conquer Suraksan, a local peak that is adjacent to Bulamsan that neither Nate nor I had yet ventured up. From our eighth story perch atop DYB, Mt. Surak appeared to be no more than a short jaunt from the base of Bulam and thus totally accessible by foot. We decided to head up the foot of Bulam at our primary point of entry and then make a sort of traverse over to Surak where we would eventually top out at the peak, 637m above.
Ready to Go!Only a short way into our hike, we paused to take a look at a posted map of the twin peaks. It was then that we realized we had quite a ways to go before even reaching Surak proper as the simple traverse we had imagined actually required us getting up almost to the top of Bulam before following the only horizontal path northwest towards our desired peak. It was here where we began contemplating our different options. Sure, the trek looked manageable but it would certainly be a round about route and far from an easy, direct shot.
Our only other options however were returning to street level and either walking a mile or so through Junggyedong to Sanggyedong or simply catching a cab. The later sounded appealing though as I pointed out, we had no clue where we wanted to go other than 'Suraksan' which seemed like somewhat of a ridiculous request to make to a taxi driver, especially as we could see the mountain from where we stood, not to mention being underdressed and undersupplied for the occasion. The later observation here would later come back to bite us in our weary butts!
Deciding that we didn't want to risk the embarrassment of returning to the street, we figured we had set out early enough where a long trek would be totally manageable before sundown. As we would soon learn, timing was far from our biggest problem. Though none of us took the time to thoroughly map out our route, we had a good enough idea of what we had to do and that was go up, way up, then hang a left. While making our way up a nice paved path (where was this the last time we were forced to try scrambling up an unmanageable face?), Nate began to entertain the idea of simply climbing Bulamsan again. I negated this suggestion pointing to the fact that we've done it a decent number of times (three for me, four for Nate, one for Lars!) and that I had been planning on getting Surak out of the way all week.
As soon as I had shot the idea down, Nate quickly defended himself by clarifying that he didn't mean we should climb only Bulam but rather summit there first and then follow the high ridgeline we saw on the map all the way over to Surak. The idea of climbing two mountains in one afternoon sounded both enticing and absurd but it gained momentum with me when Nate officially designated the feat as our first 'twofer.' While I'm sure he'd love to claim responsibility for penning such catchy nomenclature, this honor is unfortunately reserved for the renowned American mountaineer, Ed Viesturs, whose book Nate had recently finished and even more recently lent to me (thanks!). Even so, with the auspicious use of a 'cool' mountaineering term, how could either Steve or I turn down the idea. We soon agreed, Steve grunting in acknowledgement of us making a decision more than recognizing the plan, and continued upward, saving our traverse for once we had already topped out on Bulam.
Mountain FloraSetting out at noon on what was likely the hottest day of summer yet didn't do much for our comfort factor on the mountain. Though the better part of the lower path is shaded by tree growth, this also blocks any and all breeze from the trail which left us hiking through a virtual sauna. The humidity, which was easily around 90%, didn't help either! Only a few hundred meters in to the climb we had all thoroughly soaked through our shirts and I could feel the sweat from my back pooling at the bottom of my cute little bright orange DYB backpack. It certainly didn't help that both Nate and Steve were stuck in cotton t-shirts, widely regarded in both camping and traveling circles as 'death fabric' for its ability to absorb then retain water, adding weight and tempting hypothermia. Nate at least had the excuse of losing his only water wicking t-shirt on the DYB 'camping trip' while Steve was stuck in his undershirt from the night before. Sure, in retrospect I could have lent him a lightweight soccer jersey but you just don't think about that type of stuff at ten in the morning now do ya?!
My Ridiculously Good Looking Climbing Gear!(My bandanna is from Tsukiji Fish Market, Tokyo, Japan, courtesy of Nathan Kochanski)
Taking yet a different route up the mountain (we've yet to ever go the same way twice), we were relieved to eventually come to a long set of wooden stairs. Though neither Nate nor I had ever climbed them, we both immediately recognized it as a sort of shortcut (despite what Viesturs says) to the top. As we predicted, only a few minutes later we shot out just under the giant boulders that mark the beginning of the final push up Bulamsan. This staired route had circumvented the first mini peak that we normally have to climb up and over in order to get to Bulamsan proper. In doing so, we had managed to save a heap of time and climbing but also missed the first rest area meaning we were still without water an hour in to our climb. As dehydrated as the three of us already were, we managed to push forward enthusiastically, knowing that just at the foot of the boulders there would be another small tent to grab a drink. Luckily, we were correct.
We stopped to have a drink in the shade and as we each downed a bottle or more of water I saw the misgiving in Steve's eyes slowly fade away. While we had promised him that there was in fact water on the mountain, neither of us had revealed that it was only available just under the summit. Oops, our fault!
Hauling HimselfTurning to tackle the final few hundred meters, we were reminded of the massive makeover that had been taking place last time we were on the mountain when Laura visited. Back in early May, we were surprised to see the skeleton of a stairway leading up towards the summit of our local peak. By late June, this skeleton had materialized into a full blown cakewalk right up to the last five meters of mountain. Not willing to give in to this newfangled climbing assistant, Nate led us up and over our usual route which involved clambering under the stairway where others easily cruised on ahead. Though the squeeze was tight, all three of us managed to get up to the top without having to use the unsightly stairway. (We wrote off the one we used earlier on in our climb as it was a new route for us and seemingly the only way up from that point.)
Bulamsan? No Problem!
Summit Team 1It only took a quick glance to the north for my doubts to reemerge about pulling off a 'twofer.' Though due more to haze than distance, the top of Suraksan, a half mile or so away, loomed impending, daring us to go through with our somewhat reckless plan. We stayed on Bulam only long enough to snap a couple of pictures before my cotton soaked partners began to get a bit chilly. . .silly boys! In order to celebrate our first victory, we headed off the north side of the mountain towards Checkpoint Charlie where we refueled a bit on anchovies and garlic shoots while introducing Steve to the mountain tradition of a good ole' makgeolli stop.
After catching our breath and wetting our lips, we headed out a new path towards the back of our usual stop. Leaving Bulam at 508m, our hope was to find a direct line to Surak along a ridge that stayed high enough for us to avoid having to completely reclimb the mountain to Surak's peak, only a 130m above where we set off from. It didn't take long for us to realize that we were headed downhill and there was nothing we could do about it.
Scrambling DownEven so, the trail running along the ridgeline offered some spectacular views, or at least, would have if the air wasn't so filled with whatever the heck it's filled with. (I've heard Koreans refer to this as 'cloudy' which would be about as silly as calling a smoky bar room 'foggy.') It was time to put on the sunnies as the trees has been almost entirely cleared along this long narrow path. Coming up through a lush green forest, it was strange to see this dry barren landscape that seemed to have been intentionally made as Steve pointed out a number of the trees looked as if they had been sawed down. There was no development apparent and even less of a reason that one would consider such an absurd idea. This left the three of us pondering who would have possibly undertaken such a destructive, and seemingly futile task.
Just Foolin'Down we went and before long, both Bulam and Surak has disappeared from our sights as we were once again surrounded by dense forest. Not long after retreating under the trees, we began to hear the noise of a busy road below us. This is never a good sign when one is hoping to stay high on a mountain trail!
We shot out of the forest at a bridge that overlooked the entrance to a Korean military base. Well, that helps explain the numerous bunkers we ran into along the way. While Nate and I have both had our fill of playing around in these, it was Steve's turn to jump in and pretend to shoot at invaders with a broken stick. If only we had such fortifications to play with in Whitehills Woods!
While crossing the deteriorating bridge above a narrow two lane highway, Nate noted a sign pointing southwards that read 'Seoul.' Off to our right another marker welcomed drivers to Gyeongi Province. True to the markings on the map, we were officially straddling the line between Seoul and, well, not-Seoul.
On the other side of the bridge, we were greeted by a high fence covered in barbed wire and pocketed with dozens of painted stones. These stones, as we know from a visit to the DMZ, are used as signifiers, alerting patrols to tampering or potential weak spots in the barriers. Also attached to this long, seemingly never ending fence, were a number of small black pop cans that were wired to the inside of the fence. Despite studying these as we walked, I couldn't figure out what purpose they served. Take a look at the picture, any ideas?!
Fenced InThe path wound on forever, and we made pretty good time as the grade was nothing too intense. While this was comforting at the time, it continued to resonate with me that whatever vertical we didn't climb now, we'd only have to tackle later when we were certain to be much more exhausted then we already were. Bunkers, trenches and guardposts continued dot our path as the border to the military base seemed to stretch on for an eternity. Eventually we passed through an open door in a barbed wire fence, Nate going first to check for enemy fire, after which the fortifications ceased.
By this point we had long since drained the last of our water from Bulam and were again hankering for a drink. Our rests became more numerous as Nate would lunge ahead only to stop and catch a breath while I tried to maintain a relatively even pace and keep Steve in sights as he struggled upwards, cursing us for leading him on such a grueling initiatory expedition sans supplies.
Bulam in the background. . .Our second climb of the day seemed endless yet I vowed to keep an indefatigable mindset, despite my body telling me otherwise. When he could catch his breath, Steve would scathe us for promising water en route when clearly there was none. This seemed odd to both Nate and I as the refueling stations are somewhat numerous on Bulamsan. Even so, we chalked it up to the backdoor route we were taking and continued to promise that there would be respite ahead.
Every few hundred yards a turn off invited us to stop and enjoy a beautiful view looking south out over Nowongu and Bulamsan. However, after pausing at the first of these reststops, none of us again showed interest in sightseeing as we were focused on much more tangible goals, like water.
Looking out towards BulamsanI have no idea how long it took for us to get anywhere but it wasn't quick and when we got wherever we were going, we were still far from where we wanted to be. Along the way we passed over the top of two misleading peaks that hinted at being the end of our journey. Lucky for us, these weren't our final destination as neither offered anything to drink.
Eventually, we began to pass people on the path going the opposite way. This was a much needed sign of relief as we had been climbing for hours without seeing, well, anybody for the most part. Only a few couples perched on rocks who seemed to be enjoying the snacks that they intelligently toted with themselves up the mountain.
In passing one of these groups I grew excited, pointing out to Nate that one of the hikers was munching on an empty popsicle stick. Willing to bet that they hadn't climbed the mountain carrying this little piece of wood, it seemed to presage an impending ice cream vendor. Indeed, only a few minutes later we passed another troupe, this time carrying full popsicles that still were covered in frost. I leaped into the air and let out a great 'Asa!' bolting forward to the cheery vendor who stood alongside a wooded path with nothing other than a giant backpack-box or popsicles and a couple empty bottles of makgeolli.
Although it wasn't water, a melon popsicle goes a long way when you're almost entirely dehydrated and hiking on an empty stomach. Oh yeah, we might've forgotten to eat anything before taking off in the morning but, at the time, still weighed down with tuna, it didn't seem to be a big deal. Bad decision number two.
A Rocky RoadDevouring our popsicles we hastened our pace knowing that the summit must be near. We eventually did catch sight of two looming peaks though Nate ominously commented that he hoped it wasn't the second one we were aiming for. A little ways onward we were again excited to find a large group of people scattered about amongst a number of makgeolli bottles. Usually this indicates a rest area with water but unfortunately, as we soon found out, they offered only this sweet rice wine. Nevertheless, liquid is liquid when you've stop sweating in 90 degree heat because you've literally fun out of fluid! So, we quickly pounded down a bottle between the three of us, not even bothering to dig into the mandatory side dishes. A nearby climber apparently noted our lack of snacking and came over to offer some fresh fruit he had cut up in his bag. Mmmm, this was a welcome treat that, although delicious, did little to satisfy my cravings.
We didn't linger long at this stop either and pushed upwards through ever more rocky terrain. At one point, we made a short traverse around a flat sloping rock upon which we could see a waving flag. To us, this flag symbolized the eminent summit yet, once round the corner, we found a sign pointing us yet further along the trail. Just as Nate has guessed, we were headed for the second peak.
Putting in a long, long first day!Finally we came to the base of a few enormous rock slabs on which happy parties were making a haphazard descent, obviously excited to be heading down from the top. Scrambling up this final face I was elated to find a snack stand in the most unlikely of places, at the very summit of Mt. Surak. I ordered up a pair of waters for Nate and I just as he came in to view. We held off on getting Steve one so as not to let it warm up before he arrived, which yes, he did eventually do only a minute or so behind. After putting down two waters and two Pocari Sweats he admitted that not turning around, as he had earlier proposed to do, was the better decision. Although it might have seemed selfish to push him onwards, both Nate and I realized that the closest water, which is what we all dearly needed, was definitely upwards, and not down into some random gully.
At 637m on Suraksan Summit! Number two for the day!After rehydrating as best as our tightened stomachs would allow, we all agreed that it was well past time to get the heck outta the woods and on to solid ground. With no real idea where we were or how to get out we did what any desperately tired hikers would do, headed down! We eventually came to a sign pointing towards Nowon-Gol, which, to us, sounded good enough. No clue how long it took us to get down but it was a mere fraction of the time we spent covering the same distance on pitched, or even flat ground as we literally bounded down the mountain, Nate at the lead.
ExhaustedOnly a few wrong turns later we found ourselves at the bottom of Nowon Gully (which must be what Gol means in Korean, only a guess here). At this small rest area we were able to fill our empty bottles with 'fresh' spring water pouring from a mountainside tap. No clue as to the true hazard of drinking this stuff but a good number of the locals do and usually that's a pretty safe bet. None of us are sick, yet!
We shot out of the mountain and celebrated our safe arrival on solid ground by parking our butts in the nearest chairs we could find, just outside a local store which was obviously converted to a hikers hangout on the weekends. It didn't take long before we were approached by the drunk old men at the neighboring table who insisted on buying us makgeolli and then snacks, seeing that we didn't have any dried fish on our table. A total faux pax in the world of Korean drinking.
Nate was attacked by this larger than life moth which our friendly neighbor informed us is an 'intoxicating' species. Whether he meant poisonous or exhilarating, we'll likely never know!Walking through Nowon Gol I was excited to see a number of mountaineering stores, just the place I've been looking to stop in on to research backpacks for my imminent journey throughout SEAsia. I'll let you know how the search goes!
As the sun began heading for the horizon we decided it was well past time to get on back to Doota, change out of our disgusting clothes and head out to a big ole' BBQ dinner. Which, is exactly what we did!
Tan, or dirt. . .take a guessWhile they might not be the biggest mountains in Korea, or even Seoul for that matter, we did manage to pull of Nate's audacious suggestion of summiting two peaks in one day. Sure, it's a far cry from 'climbing the world's 14 highest peaks,' but when's the last time you pulled off a real twofer!
Alone at the top. . .
1 comment:
Great post Adam... what an accomplishment --- a twofer! As for the tuna --- I must diagree with you. I recall eating that crunchy intestine! Ron K.
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