(June 2016)
On June 18th, I hiked the highest mountain in Korea — Hallasan Mountain. It is a shield volcano on Jeju Island.
Saturday morning, I took the 781 bus at 7:20am to Seongpanak Trail which leads you to Baeknokdam Crater, the summit of the mountain. The trail is intermediate in difficulty and takes about 4–4.5 hours one way. It took about 30 minutes to get there from 시청 (City Hall area). I was fully prepared with snacks and drinks: 3 water bottles + 1 jelly water and mini Korean sausages, gimbap, chocolate, and seaweed crisps.
Buying a dryfit shirt was really helpful. I also used sunscreen and bug spray, per recommendation from my Fulbright friend Charlie. The distance is 9.6 km and takes about 4–4.5 hours one way. The first 1.5 hours was pretty easy. At the rate I was going, I said I could easily get to the top by 11am (since I got to the midway point by around 9:20am). Boy — I was wrong!
After I made it to the Jindarraebal shelter near the top, I had lunch and bought a rain poncho which really came in handy. This is where you can go to the restroom, buy ramen, and just relax before taking the last 1.5 hour trek to the top. There was 25–35% chance of rain starting at 3 or 4pm. I was at the shelter from about 11:50am-12:10pm. They announced on the intercom and a man made a PSA at the entrance of the shelter in Korean: “The rain will be coming at 3pm. If you don’t leave now, it may become dangerous. You’ve got to get up as quickly as possible. If you go now, you’ll make it down by 5pm.”
He didn’t need to repeat himself. People started to move quickly! I made a quick bathroom run and continued on. I only had 1/3 of the way left to reach the top. That last part was one of the hardest experiences I’ve had. I’m not sure if it was due to the elevation or the never ending lava rocks with holes in them at an incline that made me out of breath. I went from taking a water break every 30 minutes to about every 10 minutes. I literally had to stop to catch my breath about every one minute. I was struggling to say the least. At one point on my journey to the top, I had to hold my hand on my chest because my heart felt like it was burning with my high heart rate. I tried to slow down my breathing but my heart continued to beat so swiftly.
You know how people say the general life tip: “Take one step at a time?” Shucks-I say it all the time. That advice never rang so true in my current state. I said the same thing for the marathon I completed in 2010: “I went as far as my little two feet could take me,” which was 22.1 miles out of 26 mile course. When I literally just looked at the rocks below me on the hike, put momentum at the front of my toes in a continuous motion, instead of putting my weight on the back heel of my foot, I moved with smoother ease. The moment I lifted my head and saw the rocks ahead of me as if I was about to hike a hill, my mind stopped by body. And I let out a big sigh. It looked so daunting to accomplish because every time I looked up, it was just another incline, a hill that continued forever. So I told myself, “Don’t look up. You can go 5 minutes without looking up.” I didn’t have the stamina to go 5 minutes without pulling my gaze forward and upward at what lie ahead.
The last 20–45 minutes was brutal. It was raining. I was stopping every minute to catch my breath and each time I thought I had traveled for about 20 minutes was only 5 minutes in reality. The last 20 minutes was the most unbearable. Fog covered my view from left to right and the winds were blowing strongly. I was seeing some people who had traveled with me going up were now coming down after reaching the summit. This discouraged me as my mind reminded me how slow I was going. A few times during the last leg of the journey, I said out loud to myself, “미쳤어, 미쳤어,” which means “Crazy” in Korean. The rain and strong wind elements was really concerning me. This is when I wanted to stop and just go back down. I whispered to myself “I can just tell people I almost made it to the top and I decided to just head down because it was dangerous; I was scared of slipping on rocks because of the rain.” My feet were heavy, as if I had 10 pound weights around each of them. I was falling farther behind than others ahead of me and I said “How am I going to get there? So this is what it means to follow Jesus — the path is not always easy.”
I tried to find hope as I asked people coming down “How much farther” or “How much longer?” One person said in Korean “You’re almost there-just past these stairs, go a little up and you’ll be at the top.” I asked someone else and they said it’d be another 20 minutes. Not what I wanted to hear (insert -___- emoji). I walked about every 5–10 steps thinking “I can’t do this.”
But somehow….I forced myself to just keep taking one step, no matter how slow it was.
I finally made it to the top! There was no view of a crater or a lake within the crater — just fog and Koreans taking photos and eating. I couldn’t see a hint of the summit view. I kindly asked someone to take photos of me as evidence I accomplished it.
I hiked Hallasan by myself. In retrospect, I see that mountain top as the reality of some of the places we want to reach in life. We expect a fabulous view, great amenities, or to know our journey was worth it. But not being able to see anything from the top makes me reflect that it’s not always about the view or reaching your final destination. In my case, the mountain top wasn’t the highlight — it was the journey, the process of somehow managing to keep going when my two feet were yelling at me to stop. It was dangerous and it wasn’t easy, but it was worth every rain drop that fell upon me. Every time I slipped from a rock, I caught myself and luckily never fell completely down (well once I did and my arms caught me before I fell flat on my face).
The journey down was easier than the journey up. It took me 4 hours. I started the downward trek around 2:15pm after I stopped at the shelter again. It was the same PSA but with more urgency. “More heavy rains is expected at 4pm. Please just use the restroom and head down asap.” You would think the rain and slippery rocks would slow me down but I actually believe I went faster because of the rain. People say in some cases going down is harder but it was much easier for me.
On my way down, I ran into Gabby, a Fulbright teacher from Hwacheon. She was hiking with her childhood friend from the US. As I was coming down, they caught up with me. Despite my desire to have a solo adventure, it was inevitable to run into friends this weekend. Within two days, I ran into five friends just by chance, from the airport to downtown City Hall, and hiking the tallest mountain in Korea.
When I saw a huge opening of light and realized it was the entrance, I said out loud “Ahhhh!!!” as a sigh of relief. What greeted me were Koreans under an awning in their rain ponchos, more rain, and a really sore body that desperately needs to stretch. I took a bus back to City Hall, took a shower, and met up with two friends to enjoy Korean BBQ as a celebratory dinner for hiking Hallasan. I finally tried black pork (a speciality dish on Jeju Island) too. I couldn’t really taste the difference from regular pork or samgyeopsal — the only way you can tell is that the black pork has the black hair on it and it’s much thicker.
Afterwards, we went to eat bingsu (Korean shaved ice dessert) and great minds think alike because we were all thinking of the same place to go to — Cafe Ra. The decor was cute and it had a cozy atmosphere. We enjoyed an oreo bingsu!
This experience of hiking Hallasan is something I’ll never forget — hiking a total of 9 hours, half of it in the rain and going at my own pace solo. Another thing I reflected on while coming down is I am privileged to have all 5 senses. Without certain abilities like sight, walking, or hearing, this hike wouldn’t have been possible. Sometimes I take my life for granted so I thanked God for the blessings he has equipped me with to accomplish certain things.
Thank you God for your protection. Thanks for reading!
Hugs and love from Sejong — Grace Lee =)
