Chiaksan National Park

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I need to preface anything I mention in this blog with the fact that I am a fairly seasoned outdoorsman, I think. Okay? Just keep that in mind as I take you though our little endeavor in our first Korean National Park…

We went on Saturday, but the Friday before that, following suit, was another practice in Yeoju magic. Just as last week, stumbling on a crowd of English teachers in the Gu’s pizza joint, a similar fate awaited us as we strolled the aisles of E-Mart (the Korean version of Wal-Mart,but only half the size and the parking lot is on the roof). I was an aisle ahead of Cass, I think I was in search of the plentiful free samples throughout the store, when I found her talking to someone. I went over and introduced myself to Reagan, another English teacher here from South Africa. We seemed very cool while chatting and we went our separate ways.

About fifteen minutes later, he tracked us down in the chopstick aisle, and asked if we wanted to go bowling with his fiancé. Just like that, we had plans to go bowling on the fifth floor of the bus terminal (no lie… there is also the only dance club in Yeoju in the basement). We had a blast, Cass nearly threw a perfect score, and met two really fun people.

The next morning, we got up early, navigated the bus situation to Wonju, a half hour direct bus from Yeoju, and after a lot of gesturing from strangers, found the city bus that took us up to the park. It was a beautiful day and the fall colors are out in full force so we were both looking forward to it. We found in the Lonely Planet guidebook that Renata had lent us, a day hike to the summit of Mt. Birabong, a popular hike with an elevation of 1,564 meters (the equivalent feet is anyone’s guess, maybe roughly 5,000 feet? Anyone?).

The closer we got to the park, we realized that we weren’t in Montana anymore. The outside of this park resembles the frenzy that is called Gatlinburg, TN, at the gates of Great Smoky Mountains National Park. There was a backup of cars at the gate; to the busses left was a drive in movie theater and amusement park. We were dropped of at the main parking lot and the madness only increased. There were, what I would describe as street vendors lining the edges of the parking lot creating an outdoor market vibe. There, and I have to mention this, we saw what looked like beetle stew.

Anyway, we elbowed our way to and on the trail. There was a neat old cobblestone path the majority of the way to the Gyrongsa Temple, not far from the mayhem. We paused for some pictures there, but we wanted to get going to get away from the crowds, which, we found out, would not happen until we returned home that night. The freeway, er, path, was very nice and mellow, and I realized we were climbing a mountain, not on a stroll through the woods, we’d have to start climbing and gaining elevation soon since the peak was relatively close.

I may have spoken too soon, because up is exactly what we did. The trail split, one spur to a trickle of a waterfall, and the other, what we needed to take, the peak… and we were face to face with a stairway to heaven. You know in cartoons where the stairs are so long they get smaller and smaller until they end? That’s pretty much what we had in store for us. At first, I was fairly impressed at the fact there was a solid metal staircase a mile deep in the woods, but after climbing the equivalent of the Eiffel tower, I was ready for another challenge.

And another challenge we got. I think if I introduce the concept of ‘switchbacks’ to the trail organizations, they may just put my likeness next to King Sejong, the inventor of the Hangul, or Korean alphabet (and born in Yeoju, for you Jeopardy buffs). No lie, this trail followed a ridgeline up to the top, and wouldn’t stray away from it for any reason. At one point, we waited in a line backed up because whoever planned this route thought it would be perfectly alright to toss a rope over an eight foot cliff and call it good. People were hoisting themselves up and over it like it were an episode of American Gladiators. The crazy thing was, the stairs, the ropes, and haphazardly put together boulder steps, weren’t just isolated to one area or anther, it was literally the entire way up the mountain. Not to mention we did all this with a couple, less than appetizing, sweet potato paste filled dinner buns and the persimmon (an apple like thing, good though) some generous hikers offered. We literally were on a stairmaster for three miles… combine that with the way down, you got six miles. I never did that much stepping in preparation for Rainier!

So we navigate the stairs, we navigate the natural steps, we navigate the cliffs and rope ladders, we navigate the constant barrage of people (I thought rearview mirrors may be necessary several times) and we get to the top. I’m not kidding, if someone figures out a way to get one of those street vendors to the top of this place, there would be another millionaire in the world. It was an absolute party. People had blankets spread out with small coolers and lunches, people celebrating with bottles of soju, groups huddled by the three, 20 or so feet tall, summit markers getting pictures taken. It was nuts and awesome all at the same time. Everyone was completely psyched to be there, it was great.

We stayed for a while, snapped the summit pictures, snacked on another bun, and got some directions down. It started to mist a little on top, which worried me a little so we started down sooner than we wanted. Besides, it was cold and windy there. The rain turned what would have been a better trail down to the lot, into a virtual slip and slide. Exhausted, wet, hot, cold, and having our feet slide out from under us every other step made the going tough. We stopped for a little to rest on the way down and, like clockwork, a mardi gras parade of hikers went by. Kudos to the Koreans for hiking like superheros, just bopping along as if on a crowded street, wow. We blinkered and checked our blindspot, got back into the trail and made it back down to the turmoil of the parking lot on only gasoline fumes. The legs felt like they were just flopping in front of me, my stomach practically ate itself, and we were wet to the bone.

What could be the best thing to do right now? Get on a bus that had already smashed the total population of Lithuania on board. Great idea… me. This is when I started to slide into my alligator death roll. Have you ever been sweating yet freezing cold at the same time? Have you ever had to hunch over just to calm your stomach? Do any of your headaches feel like your eyes will pop out of their sockets at any point in time? Have you ever needed to straddle an innocent Korean gal, with hands and legs, while you rest your head on your own arm so that you wouldn’t pass out? Have you ever envisioned blowing chunks into her practically brand new pink hooded sweatshirt? No??? Well that’s too bad, because since getting on that bus from the trailhead, I can now say yes to all those questions. And I though Korea would be full of adventure…

I held on as long as possible, before I would’ve filled that poor lady’s hood to the brim, and Cass had her eyes peeled for any sign of civilization so that we could get off the bus. The first bus stop with any kind of buildings around it, I had to bolt. It was like the beginning of “What About Bob?” We grabbed a taxi from there to the bus terminal where I could get some crackers in me. The bus ride back to Yeoju was a quick one for me since I was out as soon as I hit the first seat. Home Sweet Home. Disaster averted.

The next morning, all better, we took our first paycheck and hit the streets. I think after surviving our epic struggle between the forces of good and evil the previous day, we owed it to ourselves. Mission number one was getting a bike. We went to one of the coolest bike stores I’ve ever been in. I would liken it a bedroom closet smashed with as many fully assembled bikes as possible with a sixty year old, female owner. I loved every second of it. I was surveying the selection of cruiser bikes, ones you see along the boardwalks in florida, and one in particular jumped out at me. It was silver, nothing flashy, but on closer inspection had all the makings of a classic. On the frame, it read, “The important is what to do when the time that is given.” With that kind of inspiration, how could you pass it up? Cass got herself a rosy red cruiser with a basket full of hotness. That old lady was the cutest, and we rocked Yeoju with all the might the cruisers had in them…

Little did I know, Mr. Kim just informed me that if the name of a Korean mountain has the sound ‘ack’ in it, such as, oh I don’t know… ChiACK, I means the mountain is hard to climb. Oh really? I almost went to bed for the rest of time on that darn bus, and he knew it was that hard all along!… we need to get on the same page, I think!

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