#baekdudaegan

2015, Baekdudaegan mountain range Rally Pics, 백두대간 白頭大幹.

With GS RIDER, BMW CLUB.

3days and 2nights for 900km include offroad from Goseoung(which is northernmost of S.Korea) to MT.Jiri(end of Baekdudaegan mountain range) was really amazing.

I wanted to include some facts and thoughts that I haven't fit in elsewhere:

-The Diva Cup still hasn't disappointed me, even on the trail

-Ida Teasdale's AMAZING cloth menstrual pads also still haven't disappointed me. Thanks, lovely!

-The smells on the trail are ever-changing but always a treat. At times it's the flowers, other times it's just the trees breathing. When I'm straining to climb a steep peak, even the slightest forest perfume eases my discomfort and makes me smile.

-During the week, we rarely see anyone on the trail. Most days, we see no one. Other days, we'll see one to three people. In the national parks on the weekend, we'll see close to 100 hikers. We usually greet people, but if they look kinda grumpy, we refrain from pleasantries. Generally, Korean men ignore me and only say hello to Ben; Korean women by themselves or in groups of men say nothing to us; and groups of men or women say a lot--especially if they've been drinking.

-The clouds of aphids and pine tree pollen earlier in our hike were stupidly obnoxious. I'm so glad that time is over.

-I bought a knee brace in Gimcheon, and I wear it when necessary. That brace and our frequent breaks has helped my knee heal tremendously.

-Ben eats an absurd amount of chocolate each day. He generally eats anything and everything so as not to waste food. Goddess love 'em.

-Water is the most precious element of our lives. I love and treasure it, and I'm sad that we abuse this essential thing so much.

-Finally, we knew hiking the Baekdudaegan would be difficult, but now we know just HOW difficult it is. And like the ups and downs of its terrain, we have our emotional highs and lows. Yet overall, we're digging this experience so much. We're also so happy to share it.

We woke up to blue skies. What a nice change that there would be no rain today.

We got all packed up and excitedly hit the trail. Visions of fried chicken, soaking in hot tubs at the sauna and booze filled our head.

The treachery of the steep BDDGT didn’t disappoint. You almost always start your day on this trail with a steep climb. But again, the rewards were great. We reached a rocky promontory were we relaxed in the sunshine, taking pictures towards the south of all the land we had crossed.

Further down the trail, we met a dude who got lost trying to find Daeyasan, a peak along the upcoming closed section of trail. He wanted to hike back to the junction with us, but then he realized that we hike slow as hell. He sped off. We later wondered how he didn’t see the obvious trail closure sign at the junction, and how he thought going south away from Daeyasan was a good idea. I ruminated that perhaps he has a terrible sense of direction.

Another kilometer down the trail we reached some notable areas with striking boulders. One particularly massive boulder called house rock captivated us for awhile. We took a break within this surreal landscape of pine and stone.

After lazing around these boulders, we followed the trail down steep, muddy slopes which were damn-near impassable. Why. Why not switchbacks, people?

We heard distant voices through the forest as we approached the trail junction at Miljae. We discovered the source upon our arrival: a school trip was out for a hike to Daeyasan. They were contemplating the posting for the trail closure. The internet, and even KNPS office staff on the phones, don’t know about these closures. I had to ask a ranger at the last park entrance to get any information.

We wizzed past the school group and down our cut-off trail towards Beolbawi, the small village at the end of Yongchu Gorge. This scenic gorge was loaded with hikers, as it was a Saturday after all. That, and the valley was beautiful. The creek had more water than we had seen in a couple days. The pools were inviting for our sore feet, but we had precious time to catch a midday bus. We pressed on, not knowing exactly what lay ahead.

We passed more and more people as the valley opened up. The small streams became larger, and soon we had arrived at a touristy swimming areas. Little kids splashed around in rock pools naturally carved by the creek. Relaxing, no doubt, but the water was cloudy and stinky in the lower sections of the creek.

We reached the main encampments and were presented with a row of restaurants and minbak accommodations. We kept going, optimistic that following the creek trail would be a better, cooler choice than the road on this hot day. We knew we wouldn’t make it to the 1:30 bus, but the 5:20 bus was still possible.

Hiking along the creek was nice and peaceful for about 20 minutes until drunken singing filled the air. We had reached yet another tourist zone. A historic temple sat on the south bank of the creek, but the north side was madness.

A karaoke restaurant was loaded with people singing old Korean pop songs, and multiple tour buses and cars had brought loads of people out to party for the three-day holiday weekend (June 6 is the memorial day for the Korean War).

I like parties, too, but I was overwhelmed after being mostly alone with Kellyn in the woods for days. Blindly, I led us onward down the creekside trail. Big mistake.

Eventually, we reached an area where there were no people. We could find the trail here and there in the rocky bank, but much of it was unused or closed. We crossed the creek a couple more times and ended up in an area with even more minbaks along a new road. I got antsy having taken us this far.

I asked some men milling around their car if the road we were on led to the bus stops we wanted. They explained that we had hiked past Beolbawi about 2km. I had gotten us lost again. Fortunately, we still had time before 5pm and knew where we were.

We hiked back to Beolbawi. The elusive bus stop was there, but the bus times were all different. No bus at 5:20, so we would have to wait until 6:10 for a bus. Kellyn was nauseous, maybe from heat-stroke or our lunch of random snacks. Once she puked at the side of the bus stop, she felt much better. And so we waited for about an hour, ruminating about the trail and staring at people driving past in their cars.

Just when our asses were starting to fall asleep, a man pulled up in a blue Bongo truck. He asked us if we were waiting for the bus, and where we were going. We wanted to go to Mungyeongsi (Jeomchon), but we told him Gaeuneup was fine. He said he was going there and that we should put our bags in the back and go with him. Excitedly, we said yes and jumped in his truck.

Along the way he explained he would spend the weekend fishing near Beolbawi with his family. He had to go to Gaeuneup to pick up his wife. He was annoyed by all of the people singing and drinking by the river. He explained that memorial day should be a solemn day to remember those who have died during war, not one for drunken revelry. The scene along the creek was evidence that his opinion is definitely in the minority. He cautioned us that bars and night clubs in the city would be closed tonight. No matter for us.

We stared at the valley as we rode and chatted. Rice paddies lined the road and were met by rolling green mountains dotted by clusters of villages and minbaks. We arrived in Gaeuneup within 10 minutes, a small town with a rail-bike attraction. Our driver-friend pointed out his wife as we drove by. He leaned out the window and quickly explained why the hell he had two foreign people in his truck. She smiled, bowed and said hello as we drove off another 100m to the bus terminal. 

Our new acquaintance and the ticket dealer helped get us the right ticket and the right bus. Even though it was unsolicited help, it was nice nonetheless.

Then we were off to Jeomchon in 15 minutes, the center of Mungyeong City. Goodbye for now, treacherous mountain spine!

We woke up next to the dinosaurs and blueberry bushes well-rested after a windy night in the lacquered jeongja. The wind had served us well. The thick clouds that filled the sky the night before were being blown away. For the first time in perhaps four days, we could see blue sky. But it wouldn’t last.

I was groggy, so it took me forever to make tea and oatmeal. But once it was done, we had an enjoyable breakfast.

An old lady who had walked by earlier yelled at us about something as she road by in a white Bongo truck. Were we too close to her blueberry grow-op in this abandoned rest area? Was the jeongja closed? What? We couldn’t sleep here? Well, it was too late for that. We think there are no laws against sitting in jeongjas. Yet she still stared at us in consternation while we did the same. She drove off, safe inside her truck.

We packed up and headed again towards Neuljae. We got a good look at the austere wooden sansindang in the daylight. We hiked the trail for 10 minutes and stopped for a break on a little knoll to stretch.

Then I almost stepped on my first snake of the day. I would almost step on another a few hours later while we had a lunch-snack on the first mountain peak, Cheonhwasan. The first snake would’ve been fine to step on. But I've since learned using the power of the internet that the second snake I almost stepped on was a mamushi. A mamushi is a type of poisonous pit viper found in Japan, Korea and China. Close call with that one! Now we have our eyes peeled for snakes. We also probe ahead of us with our trekking poles as we hike.

While snacking on Cheonhwasan, we watched clouds roll in from the north. A distinct rainband was moving across the ridges and valleys that lay ahead. Another wet day after all. Clouds formed and a mist enveloped the ridge. It started to rain during our descent from the mountain peak. The trees along the ridge shielded us for a little while, but eventually everything was soaked. Fortunately, the showers were light and only lasted for an hour at most. Later the sun would peak through enough to dry our damp clothes as we walked.

This section of trail is just incredibly beautiful. Rocks on the top of the ridge reveal vistas of thick forests propped up on steep peach-colored cliffs.

But like the other trails in and around Songnisan, the terrain is unforgiving to hike. The trail goes around, across, over and through boulders and cliffs. Many of these cliffs and escarpments have ropes to navigate, too. We hiked all afternoon to reach Gomochi despite the map showing us that it should only take a few hours. Often these maps and the guidebook leave us disappointed and with shattered expectations. 

But we persevered. Kellyn bravely pushed through these sections despite her fear of heights. The weathered ropes were strung off scraggly trees, and yet they held well enough this time. Some parts of the trail were nearly completely flat despite the hazardous sections that required free-solo traverses or bouldering.

The rewards were great in the end, as Gomochi was more amazing than we had hoped. The forest was peaceful, and we had a flat spot to set up our tent. (The bank next to our site was littered with pissy and poopy toilet paper. This post by some fellow BDDGT through-hikers describes the littering culture here.)

Most importantly, the Gomochi spring had a nice flow of cold, clean mountain water just a few meters away from our campsite. We were in heaven: we didn't have to look for water, and we didn't have to haul it around. Plus, the next day we would be relatively close to our destination and the eventual bus ride to our resupply point. All was well.

We ate a quick dinner of ramen with fixings, then we relaxed in our tent eating chocolate and talking resupply plans. The quiet that fell in the forest was punctuated only by the trickle of the mountain spring. The sounds of trickling brought us much solace.

Neul Pass is connected by a road, and it's at the trailhead to the BDDGT section that skirts along the Songnisan National Park. After Gyu and his uncle drove off, we trudged up the bank of the road to see a tall Baekdudaegan stele, a small orchard and the sansindang/mountain spirit shrine discussed in our guidebook. A sansin, or male mountain deity, embodies the energy and spirit of the Baekdudaegan. But also check this out for some herstory of Korea's mountain-spirit worship.

I felt drops of rain, and it was getting late. Well, what harm was it to sleep in a mountain shrine? The dirty and scuffed floor inside suggested that people come and go frequently.

We stuck our bags inside and walked past the rows of saplings when three carloads of people arrived at the pass. The men's and women's arms were laden with blankets and boxes as though they were going on a midnight picnic. We assumed they were either going to the shrine or another spot further up the trail. Whatever. We had water to find at the rest area down the road to the west. If they kicked us out of the shrine, so be it. We said hello and walked down the road.

The hyugeso was where the guidebook said it would be with a few minor changes. Although it still had a jeongja and a toilet, the city had abandoned its upkeep. The toilet blocks were empty of water while the bowls were full of shit; a blueberry farmer was storing his or her equipment and about 50 potted plants; and the small lawn between the jeongja and exercise machines had become home to large dinosaurs. Well, dinosaur statues.

So we thought, why not sleep next to dinosaurs by a toilet that has running water to its sinks?

At twilight, I walked back up the road to check the situation at the shrine and report to Ben. I was surprised to find two women kneeling before candles at the base of the Baekdudaegan stele. A glow emanated from the cracks in the wood of the mountain shrine. 

Shit, those people are here to pray to the mountain spirits, I thought. I slowly and quietly approached the shrine. What do I do? How do I get our bags? I did what I had to do. I went to the door and opened it slowly. The door creaked loudly. Ssshhhiiittt, how embarrassing. Inside were maybe 10 people sitting cross-legged in the room, the radiance of numerous candles drawing the center bodies in silhouettes. They were chanting quietly. I smelled incense. A man to the left looked at me in annoyance. 

Our bags had been dragged to either side of the doorway. Mianhaeyo, mianhaeyo, mianhaeyo, I repeated. A woman to the right stood up and lugged my bag closer to me. I grabbed it and then Ben's bag to hoist to the ground. Mianhaeyo, I said again. She just smiled and closed the doors behind me.

I set Ben's bag against a small stone statue and retrieved a headlamp from my pack for the walk back.

Ben called me at the road, and I told him to come get his bag. We definitely wouldn't be sleeping at the shrine. I interrupted a sacred shamanic ceremony, Ben, I said. I feel really bad about it, but I also feel lucky to have witnessed such a thing. Yep. What a coincidence.