Update

We're just resting in Samcheok, on the east coast of Korea. 210kms to go. Have run out of time for more blog entries but we'll try get some more up before the finish. if not, there'll be some retrospective and unpublished posts to come once we're done. Onwards

High drama at a low pass.

After walking 400 kilometres, Kathleen decided to walk off the trail. 

The first that Raby and I knew of her intentions was the previous day. On this day, we had woken up with almost no food left, hiked for a few kilometres, and then somehow taken a wrong turn and ended up walking out to the road for a few kilometres down some forgotten gorge. During the walk down the gorge, Kathleen had fallen and badly bruised her shin. The rest of us selfish walkers were up ahead hunting the road, and did not even realise she'd fallen. Given that we were off-course and hungry, the fall came at a bad time. 

Anyway, it was after midday by the time we arrived at the place we were supposed to arrive at, a couple of hours later than expected. We stopped at a roadside restaurant to take stock of the situation and plan the afternoon's walking. Raby and I were in high spirits, mainly because of the food we had just eaten, but also because the valley we were in was beautiful, and the weather was hot and sunny. Kathleen was a little quiet. After eating, Kathleen dropped the bomb: 

'I'm thinking about walking off the trail... I think I'm done...'

Raby and I sat there in silence, quite stunned and not sure how serious she was. After a minute or so I said 'This sounds like a serious situation...let's talk it out.' So we discussed what she had been thinking, that she was done with South Korea (Kathleen has been living on and off in SK for the last three years), that she wanted to get back home and see her family, that the thought of walking up another 'san' (mountain) was ghastly. That when she fell, she could not even see us. Basically, she did not want to carry on. The pass which we were at was frequented by buses. She could be on the next bus to the nearest small city, and from there take a bus back to Seoul. From almost anywhere on the Baekdu Daegan you can be back in Seoul within 5-6 hours. 

Fuck! This was a serious situation. Raby and I are terrible at saying the things that need to be said in these situations, but somehow we convinced her to walk another 6 km, camp there, and sleep on it. This we did and we did not talk about the incident again. I thought it was an unpleasant memory which we would laugh at further down the line. 

The next day we walked 19km. It was not a bad day for me, the trail was forgiving and at our final destination for the day there was a small motel and restaurants where we could wash our clothes, shower, and eat good food - as much as we wanted! This put me in a very good frame of mind and the 19km passed painlessly enough. Kathleen must have been up against it. 

Yesterday's thoughts had opened a door which one should never talk about on the trail. Every hiker knows that door is there and where it leads to, they know the danger of opening that door. It is somewhere in the attic of the mind, out of sight, covered in dust. I have climbed the stairs to the attic and stood there before it, but knowing the cost of opening that door, I stand there for some time and then leave, climb back down the stairs, aware that soon enough I will find myself at that door again. Sometimes you make the climb more than once in a day. 

What Kathleen and her mind had done sometime in the previous days was to open that door. In a word, she had given herself the option of quitting. Once opened, the door is very difficult to close again, and over the last 19 km she walked, her resolve to quit had strengthened. After eating at one of the restaurants, the word was passed:

"Guys, I am done. I want to walk off the trail even more than yesterday.' 

Again, silence. Me and Raby looked sheepishly around, unable to meet her eye. For the life of me, I could not think of anything to say. Finally, Raby said something like 'Are you sure?' Yes, she was sure. What could you say? We were both gutted. Kathleen was great company along the trail, we had battled through 400 km together, she never complained, encouraged us to be semi-hygienic and was always positive, caring, and, (importantly), generous with her trail food! She also spoke fluent Korean and this helped immensely whenever we stumbled upon Koreans along the trail. If she wanted to leave, then I would not force her to stay.

Quitting is not bad in itself. I don't know many people who could make it as far as Kathleen on the Daegan. Raby and I push ourselves hard when we walk, and Kathleen always pulled through, no matter how rough the day. Four hundred kilometres gives you plenty of time to think, to straighten out any loose ends about the past, the future, to reach an equilibrium and to make important decisions, to find out once again what you like and don't like. I think Kathleen made some important decisions about her future on the Daegan, and in this sense the trail has served it's purpose for her. Those four hundred kilometres she can look back on and be proud of. 

The next day we walked out without Kathleen. Raby and I vented our frustration and disappointment. 

'Four hundred kilometres!' 'She was so close!' 'Three more weeks, max, and then she never had to hike again!' 

We said a lot of things that we probably should have said to her the day before. She might have stayed on. I even thought about calling her phone and saying 'Kathleen, just don't think and start walking up the trail, we'll wait for you.' But I didn't - it was done. We kept walking. One foot in front of the other, never think about more than the next mountain you have to climb, never expect the walking to be easy, we do what we have to do to get through, keeping the mind at bay, and, under no circumstances will I open that door in the attic...

Thanks for everything Kathleen! Enjoy civilisation :-). 

Seuregi (스레기) - A quick rant on rubbish.

"Man this rubbish is disgusting". After repeatedly saying this to myself and each other everyday for the first 2 weeks of hiking we decided to make a stand. Taking a handy plastic bag we began picking up rubbish that lay on the trail or near vicinity. Frustratingly, trail rubbish is the norm here rather than the exception. The sight of paper cups, cigarette butts, lolly wrappers, tissue and various instant plastic snack wrappers continually winds me up, especially on the bad days.

I can't get my head around the mentality of littering. Some people just seem to walk up, have a nice picnic, then happily leave the plastic and tin-foil strewn in their wake. Worst still is when the trash is jammed under a root or rock, indicating knowledge that this action is unsavory, but still partaking.

Of course this phenomenon is global, and I guess Korea doesn't fare too badly considering their population of 50 million lives within the valleys these mountains create, inevitably bringing that 'edge' between the perceived natural and unnatural environment that much closer.

But for me it is just inexcusable, and again has urged me to take up the cause for education and environmental awareness in attempt to change the mentality of our extremely wasteful modern societies.

Not to mention that the litter has also exposed our own filthy little stream of waste, generated as we walk through this landscape. Ramyeon packets, lollies, ice-creams, gas- containers, biscuits wrapped inside plastic inside cardboard - all have been used. Constantly when shopping we must be aware that no, we don't need that plastic bag to carry our purchases 10m outside to our backpacks. Trying to consciously reduce our waste stream has become a bit of a challenge to be faster than the Korean shop owners and checkout operators!

In all honesty, before I came over I had a sort of romantic vision of eating local foods direct from the forests and fields, as well as cooking on open fires or at least a wood-fired rocket fuel stove. The realities of this ridge walk are much starker. Although the areas surrounding the trail usually contain small farms and villages, the prospect of a steep 3km descent and ascent the next day, especially after a long day on the trail, is an immediate deterrent. We eat local wherever possible, yet packing your own food is essential and lighter is better over longer hikes. Inevitably, these factors along with our intense sugar cravings, Scottish budgets and time frame lead us to the ramyeon, egg noodle and instant coffee scene. And that scene is one of convenient, one-use trash generation. Hmmmm.

So again, back to my point. Every few days or so, or when the rubbish is really glaring we strive to pick it up. Even though we are just removing it from the mountain trails to be disposed of elsewhere in some landfill, it feels good to at least do something. This mentality of leaving a place better than you found it is actually quietly rewarding, as we found out. On the first day of picking up litter we met a man, had an innocuous conversation then moved on. Upon reaching a small mountain shelter we were astounded when the owner said to order anything we liked, as the man we had met earlier had phoned ahead to pay for our order.
Just another round of Korean jeong?  For me this was a sign that any action performed with others in mind will have it's reward, immediately or at some other time.
Oh yeah, and also big bonus points for Korea's technological connectivity, which allowed that phone call to be made!

The Middle Stages - Kathleen Departs

A major development from the trail occurred over the last section. After 400km of trial and tribulation, Kathleen, our hiking companion, chief translator and source of feminine energy decided to call it quits. It was a bit of a shock for Mark and I, as we had not long passed the halfway mark, which for me anyway was a massive psychological booster.

As we've all learned, long-distance hiking isn't just about traipsing through the mountains everyday in a state of bliss. It's a major psychological and physical challenge. Each day you go to bed and wake-up, knowing that the kilometres are still there, waiting to be walked one step at a time. It's not over in 3 or 4 days, which is the norm for most of the tramps I've done in New Zealand. It's also not over in 1-2 weeks. It's continual and although these mountains are not high, they are brutally steep and never-ending. From every high point all you can see in all directions is wave after wave of dark green peaks, eventually merging with the horizon haze.

In Korea there are no spectacular snow-capped mountains nor pristine lakes to take your mind off the daily kilometres. More often than not you are either grinding up or methodically descending a direct path along the ridge, encased in a dappled green hue. A large portion of time is spent alone, in silence, contemplating your own thoughts. Many things bubble to the surface and can wreak havoc with your headspace. Things such as purpose, family, desires, fears, past and present all come knocking at some time. On a cold morning these little seeds of doubt begin to germinate. On the first mountain they begin to swell, on the second they want to burst desperately. On the third, fourth and fifth  they start to bloom, flourish wildly, emphatically and with deadly sway. But if you can endure these temptations, see through the beauty of those petals, take the next step, see them as they are, then they will eventually, inevitably, fade away, to be replaced by the next moment. The brief relief brought of a cool breeze, the excitement of the last surge to the summit or just a quick exchange with a fellow hiker.

I guess this aspect of mental turmoil often, rather than the physical challenge of the trail, seems to break many long-distance hikers' ambitions.

From my point of view it was both sad and frustrating to see her leave, as she is one of the tougher people I know. We weren't really expecting to be in this situation and although Mark and I tried our best to convince her to stay, her mind was firm and she was ready to leave. We said our goodbyes but the feelings of having failed her somehow stayed with me for a few days. Talking about it later that morning, Mark and I both delivered the sort of emphatic and inspiring speech we each wanted to motivate her with, but couldn't deliver the day before. Could we have managed the food, rest days, pace etc any better? We decided, and Kathleen herself had told us that nothing would have changed her mind and so it is. Mark and I walked on with our new mate Ki-Jun and Kathleen headed back to Seoul.

So, Kathleen is no longer on the Baekdudaegan. She decided to return home to the States after a long time in Korea, catch up with her family and explore new options from there.

We had 28 days of good times and good memories on the trail. She was invaluable as a friend, probably saved us from burning out after 3 weeks and her language ability allowed us to sink a little deeper into the headspace of Korean society, getting past the usual 'hello's', 'goodbye's' and limited conversations typical with a language barrier. She was also unfortunately our main techno-coms component so hopefully the blog doesn't suffer too much!!

By the way, Kathleen has promised a final blog entry so I'm calling you out here haha!

Day 17: Our Status

Below is a map of the entire Baekdu Daegan Trail: from North Korea's Baekdu-san to South Korea's Cheonwang-bong. We are currently hiking the accessible 735 km trail in South Korea from Jirisan's Cheongwang-bong traveling north to Hyangno-bong in the DMZ. 

Map complements of Roger Shepherd's hikekorea.com

Seventeen days after departure, we are roughly 240 kilometers in, about to enter Songri-san National Park, where were will most likely be for the next five days. After a couple of days of gentle hikes, we are looking forward to exploring Songni-san's rocky ridgeline.

Day 14: Move Over Jamie Oliver

Having lived in South Korea for a while now, there are not many experiences that are too new to me; however, life on the Baekdu Daegan Trail threw a new one at me at Gwaebang-ryeong pass and the home of Mr. Baek and his family. Mark and I sauntered to the pass a little after midday to meet up with Rob, who was planning to meet us there after resting his knee for one more day. We were immediately called into the Gwaebang-ryeong Sanjang,owned by Mr. Baek, which offered food and accommodation for locals and Baekdu Daegan hikers alike. Friends of theirs came by to visit for the day so the seven of us sat down for coffee and some conversation, when suddenly the topic turned to famous foods in our respective countries and Mr. Baek's craving for a good steak.

Somehow it was decided that Rob, Mark and I would be the cooks for the evening and introduce them to some typical dishes from our countries. Now this sounds like a fairly harmless request, except the fact that because we come from the US and New Zealand, they believe we must know how to cook a delicious steak. And the worst part, we went with it.

Mark and I, still not having washed up from our day of hiking, were ushered into their car and driven to a well-stocked supermarket in Gimcheon, where we were told to buy anything we needed. The menu was decided: sauteed veggies, garlic bread, steak, salad, and mashed potatoes. We returned to the house slightly nervous that we could not live up to the expectations, but we channeled our inner Jamie Oliver and cooked with a vengeance. The best part being that the whole time we were cooking, the men were taking pictures and videos of us cooking the meal so they could imitate it in the future.

Eventually we had a meal on the table and I think the owner's wife's comment sums it up best:

"생각보다 맛있네" (It's more delicious than I thought it would be).


That's a victory in our book.

Day 12-13: Jimjil-bang-ing in Gimcheon

Mark

Much has been written about the nude saunas of Korea. Much more shall be written about this titillating Korean experience. Here is a brief account from our first fateful jimjilbang night...

For the budget hiker, the bright lights of the jimjilbang offer everything one could wish for - a range of hot pools and saunas, snacks and drinks for sale, warm showers, unlimited soap, lotions to sooth your weather-beaten skin, a hair dryer, a freshly laundered jimjilbang uniform, a shared sleeping space with various different rooms set to different temperatures, television, all for around 7 NZD a night. After hitching a lift into the city of Gimcheon, we headed straight for the nearest Jimjil-bang, attractively titled 'Spa Valley'. 

Unfortunately (or not given some of the disturbing stories Kathleen told us later), men and women have separate bathing areas. Raby and I headed eagerly upstairs to the men's floor and open the door....the sight of nude men sprawling lavishly on couches is the first thing that greeted us. They were watching a baseball game on TV. As a way-gookin in such a familiar Korean space, we are, inevitably, the elephants in the room. All eyes were on us as we disrobed and made our way coolly and confidently into the main bathing area. Confidence is the only strategy available to us way-gookins - we swaggered about as if we'd been jimjilbanging our whole lives - never hurrying, always looking disinterested, and always ignoring the stray downward glances from the Korean punters. Truth be told, we are both experienced jimjilbangers from our previous time in Korea, and it only took a minute to get used to the naked men floating about the place, scrubbing themselves vigorously, scrubbing each other more vigorously, and even slapping a white cream labelled 'refining lotion' onto their buttocks in front of the mirrors. It was almost nostalgic.

Later that night, we headed for the shared sleeping area and met Kathleen, all of us looking resplendid in our uniforms (Kathleen's outfit is a dull orange). There are no mats - it is straight onto the hard floor. This will not do. Raby and I grabbed our sleeping mats and went to one of the side rooms that was darker and a little quieter than the main sleeping area. In this room there are six 'tombs' - small, covered sleeping spaces that you have to crawl into. Being tired, I passed out immediately, despite the blaring television and the loud talking coming from the main room. Two hours later I woke up, lathered in sweat and panicking in my tomb. It was furnace-like in there, and sleeping directly above my tomb on a wooden platform was possibly the loudest snorer in the Gimcheon district - I had to get out. I wriggled out of that hellish little hole and burst into the main sleeping area, bleary-eyed and completely phased. The heat in that place was ridiculous - we are later told that the Koreans prefer it hot in order to sweat out any 'impurities' during the night's rest. The air temperature must be at least 30 degrees, and with the underfloor heating adding to my sweaty misery, I had to get out.

The tombs--though these look like palaces compared to the ones at the jimjilbang we were at.

Stepping gingerly over the battlefield of sprawling bodies in the main hall, I headed out to the stairwell and was greeted by a cool breeze floating down from above. There are no snorers here, it is quiet and cool - this will do nicely, thank-you very much. Back to the mens quarters I go to collect my sleeping bag, then onto the stairwell and walk up two floors. I rolled out my mat on the dusty concrete, so grateful to the stairwell micro-climate into which I have stumbled. The sleep is beautiful, disturbed only by two Korean workers from the offices above, who periodically use the stairwell as a smoking room throughout the night. Inhaling their cigarette smoke is a small price to pay for the use of this stairwell, and I entertain myself with the notion that I could happily be homeless in any city as long as I had my sleeping mat and sleeping bag. I awake at dawn and meditate at this unlikely spot on the seventh floor of Spa Valley, then go back down for a morning sauna, shower, and lotion session. As I enter the shower room my eyes latch helplessly onto a great pair of bulging testicles owned by a punter who is laying flat on his back, enjoying the sunshine that is streaming through the foggy window - welcome back to the jim-jilbang, boy! The eventful night has come to an end, and, feeling fresh and fluid, I leave the heat behind and meet the others to exchange war stories from the night over a cup of coffee.  

Post-script: Kathleen and Raby somehow survived the night in the main chamber - Raby slept the whole night in his tomb, heroically staving off the heat and the zoo-like sounds of the various snorers; Kathleen slept on the hard floor with no sleeping mat and a TV blaring 15 feet away. How is that possible?!    

Raby: "y'know when you wake up during the night, knowing you need a piss but too lazy to roll out of bed? In the jimjil when I wake up lying in a pool of sweat, chronically dehydrated with another punter's legs draped over me, that same function kicks in - the 35 degree floor is just too good, roll over, shake out your dead arms, readjust your earplugs and slide back in for another patchy 45min".

Kathleen: "I slept great until the wee hours of the morning when some mysterious legs flopped over mine...".

Kathleen
A series of several long, wet days on the trail left us needing a cheap place to dry out, soak some sore muscles, and get some rest. Luckily in Korea, there exists such a place, if you are brave enough to accept the stares of complete strangers marveling your nude physique.

We hitched a ride from the pass into the city of Gimcheon and made our way to the nearest jimjilbang. For eight dollars a night, we could use the sauna and sleep in the upstairs jimjil, which had a large open space with two TVs and several rooms heated to varying temperatures.

I split from Rob and Mark and made my way into the women's side of the sauna where I barely even noticed the not-so discrete stares of ALL of the women at the bath. From there I proceeded to scrub off the grime from our days in the wilderness and work a brush through my hair for the first time in more than a week (I suppose I was something to look at). After getting my feet as clean as they were going to get, I spent the next hour testing each pool, first the freezing cold bath and ending with a scalding hot soak. Pink and happy, I dressed in the female jimjilbang uniform: from what I was told by the guys, extremely flattering pumpkin orange shorts and t-shirt.

The three of us reunited in the sleeping quarters and scoped out places to sleep for the night. A hard marble floor is the choice of many, as it is cooler there than many of the separate rooms, but for Rob and Mark, it was too public and the floor appeared a bit too hard. Rob spent the night in the 'tombs': individual sized stone arched tombs not more than 3 feet high. While they are more private than other options, the air is still and stifling, enough to drive Mark and I out for fresher air and a less claustrophobic area. I settled in the middle of the  main room and passed out on the marble floor, without a pillow, until the early hours of the morning when someone felt bad for me and gave me theirs on their way out. Mark, however,created a new sleeping area in the...yes...stairwell of the jimjilbang. Desperate for fresher air, he ventured into the stairwell with his sleeping bag for the night, much to the curiosity of many males going out there for a smoke.

We stayed another night at the Gimcheon jimjilbang, which overall proved to be a good place to recharge. Not to mention it was very near to a McDonald's which we frequented often for hot coffee and numerous 800\ choco-cones. As always, there were a few other awesome experiences in Gimcheon, which made the place hard to leave, but the trail was calling and we had many kilometers ahead of us.

Day 12: Kickin' it in Gimcheon

Gimcheon (김천) - it's the 'hopeful city', bright lights, buzzing streets and 800\ McD's choco-cones make this a must-visit destination on the peninsula. We descended into town, slightly euphoric, slightly dazed at being back among the intensively apartmented landscape that comprises your typical mid-sized  Korean city. Gwaja options everywhere sent blood sugar levels skyrocketing within minutes. After settling into the local jimjil, we hit the plaza. From here our Gimcheon experience started to play-out. After selecting a  식당, bimbimbap 3개 주새요! This is your classic waygookin order in Korea - bimbimbap is a rock-solid option - rice with a fried egg and various greens all mixed in with some spicy gochujang (고추장) or chilli paste. As we ate we explained ourselves, well Kathleen did, to the staff.
K: "We're looking for a place to wash our grimy 2-week trail clothes".
Ajuma: "Get in the car, I know a place"
3WG comply.
A: "This place is closed and won't accept pants"
K: "Bugger"
A: "Come round tomorrow and you can wash them at my place".
3WG: "Sweet!"

Next day...

We turn up at the 식당 again. Minutes after eating we find ourselves in the family home, more specifically, on the floor of the family bathroom and wringing out the worst of the trail....well..., yeah trail stains, just to make the garments acceptable for the washing machine. It was Buddha's birthday so the two kids were off school and pretty much manic - it's not everyday you get three waygooks crashing around the average Gimcheon household!

The rest of the family seemed unphased - particularly the jovial husband - a.k.a Chan-sik( 찬식). A dynamic interior decorator with multiple side-projects,  Chan-sik took it upon himself to show us round the sights. For Mark and I, our current answer to the question "what do you do"? is that we are "aspiring farmers". Upon hearing this we were off to view  the endless fields of onions surrounding the city. Gimcheon is known for two products - onions and grapes.

Stopping in at one of his farmer mates enabled us an inside look at a typical small farm property in Korea. Basically lots of junk lying around with every spare space in some form of cultivation. The farmer kindly gave us some duck eggs for "strength on the trail", just another example of the gift culture in action.

For the remainder of the day we checked out Jikji-sa, which is a very beautiful Buddhist temple set beneath the local mountain of Hwangak-san (황악산). Buddha's birthday is a national holiday in Korea, and the temple grounds were pumping, full of the people that make rural Korea tick.

A festive atmosphere was manifest in the temple grounds with market stalls, comedy acts and various brands of soj'd up old-timers in the mix. Everyone was loving the perfect weather and the chance to pray for the good health of family and friends. Just for good measure there was a free bibimbap on hand for all. Chan-sik provided a running commentary in broken English, stopping Mark and I at one point so that we could fully appreciate the soothing music that was coming from speakers positioned throughout the temple grounds. Obediently, we closed our eyes and dug the relaxing groove.

Back at home base we waited around in McD's, had our 4th choco-cones and started preparing for dinner at our adopted Gimcheon family's place.

Dinner turned out to be a classic Korean BBQ of marinated pork and kimchi pancakes, washed down generously with grape juice and soju (소주). Each round the soju ratio increased as Chan-sik set the pace throughout the evening, getting through at least 소주 3병 or 3 bottles. We tried to slip under the radar on the soju front, but simply could not avoid the intake of meat. Channy gregariously applied new slices to the grill every 10 minutes. What had seemed an implausible 2kg bag of pork was slowly but surely packed away. By about the 4th hour I estimate we had each eaten at least 3kg of food. Needless to say Kathleen heroically translated and maintained the flow of conversation throughout the night. Chan-sik got more raucous with each round and was unstoppable near the end, taking down all available rice and starting on the beers.

Male drinking traits are global, and at 11.30pm Channy stumbled into the kitchen, returning with some ramyeon and frozen goods for the grill. He messed around with his kids (who were on fire in the lounge dancing to K-Pop anthems), yet somehow avoided the evil stares of his wife, who was regularly supplying us with extra food.

At last, after a great evening and solid 5 hours of eating/drinking, all sorts of glorious promises and an offer for a part-time apprenticeship - we made it back to the jimjil and sunk into a deep sleep on the floor. Post-party weigh-in was 69.4kg.

However attractive the vices of Gimcheon, we happily rolled out of town next afternoon, refreshed, well-fed and eagerly anticipating the trail.

Day 10 - Surviving Samdobong - Heading for Gimcheon

We're currently sitting in a PC-bang in Gimcheon City (김천) taking stock of the first 170km of trail. Our last night out was on top of Samdo-bong (삼도봉). It was another chilly sort of day on the ridge, the nagging wind never really abated and kept us pushing hard to cover ground. The grey skies, naked birch trees and pale light all contributed to an almost folorn and wintery atmosphere, as lone crows swooped on the breeze. Spring has not quite arrived on the higher ridges of the Daegan. Thoughts of a warm sauna, a break from ramyeon (라면)  and - for Mark and I especially - the possibilty of unlimited gwaja (과자), were the primary motivations to get to Gimcheon asap. The final section was a punishing 8km with each sharp crest obscuring the true summit. Kathleen was letting out some strangled groans as each of these false hopes were dashed. "You've gotta be kidding me!" is probably the most publishable.
We set up camp on a helipad just off the summit and after a quick dinner, hunkered down for the night. Although cold, we weren't expecting rain - or snow for that matter! It was a ghastly sort of night, wet sleeping bags, freezing toes and 3 hours sleep at best as the remnants of the Korean winter fired a departing shot. Usually I try to keep my distance from the Squire within the confines of the Safe and Flourishing, but the circumstances were such that when our elbows touched during the night I did not pull away, and even tentatively enjoyed the warmth of that contact...
As soon as morning arrived we fumbled around, trying to decamp as fast as our frozen fingers would allow. While Kathleen pondered her frozen bra and shoes, another Korean camper comfortably snapped photos of us in our longjohns, shorts and light summer tents, no doubt slightly worried and pondering the aptitude of these 3 waygooks! We ripped through the 11km descent with heads down until the pass of Udu-ryeong (우두령) appeared and gave us a chance to dry out and warm up. The decision was made to head to Gimcheon a day early and we happily walked 3km down the road where Mark thumbed us a ride into the bright lights of the city.

Taken after a harrowing night on Samdobong, where bodily contact restrictions within the 'safe & flourishing' 4 season tent were much relaxed!

Day 7: Starvation & Salvation

Course: Baegunsan--Yuksipryeong 

Distance walked: 16 km 

Rob

After yesterday's 25km slog we were well spent and the plan was to eat at a small roadside stand on a pass 4km down the trail. Strolling down the ridge all thoughts were of the sizzling pajeon파전 (Korean pancake) we would be feasting on for breakfast. Alas, probably because it is still early summer the place was deserted. The cold wind blowing up the pass led to a pretty quick consensus to move on, but now we had a real challenge as the next food was 15km away.

We split the last 3 spoons of rice and Kathleen generously divided her remaining cookie into thirds. Why am I having flashbacks to last time haha. With no other option than to keep walking we ground back up to the trail. Luckily the weather had cleared into the first sunny day since Jirisan. We wafted along amongst the birch trees on a beautiful section of ridge, dipping down into overgrown thickets of bamboo then back up onto the rocky granite outcrops. This is the Daegan! I started to feel nostalgic as this was a familiar scene from my last attempt. That would be slightly dizzy from exhaustion and lack of food but feeding on the energy of the day and the challenge of making it to the next stop.

After about 10km we heard a commotion ahead. Now to a ravenous and ill-prepared waygookin walking the baekdudaegan this is a sound which always causes the heart to skip a beat, as the chance for a spot of gwaja exchange is suddenly on the cards. This time our timing was superb as we rounded the corner and walked straight into a working party of cheery ajuma's and ajoshi's who had just sat down to lunch! Needless to say the 정 was flowing and we had no other option than to sit (gratefully) down and eat what was put in front of us - bap, kimchi and various san namul washed down with coffee and even water drawn from a birch tree. 

Moments like this are what the Daegan is all about and sometimes words cannot describe the immense gratitude I feel towards the Korean people as they unquestioningly share whatever they have with whoever happens to come along the path. It was also great to see so many older people out socialising and working together, in this case clearing up the local mountain trails after winter. I think we definitely lack this dynamic in NZ anyway.

Our day was now much less dramatic and we casually walked the remaining distance to another pass, this time with an open restaurant and a pleasant spot to camp by the road. Just when we thought life couldn't get much better we were beckoned over by a group of guys outside the 식당 who were pretty surprised to see 3 foreigners in such a random spot. We shared some ramyeon and beer together for half an hour, They were caddies and managers on the Korean LPGA golf tour, which is quite a unique job for Korea. Spun some yarns and we parted ways best of mates. Just another example of the open and friendly-natured people you will find on this peninsula.