Poison - Doubt - Indecision - Enlightenment? A run-of-the-mill mental battle on the Daegan.

Some days it all comes out screaming. You know, the whole what the hell am I doing, what the fuck am I doing here? Is this some kind of sick joke? What is the point of this trail. I'm walking another 24 km today, up and down these mountains that are neither hills nor 'real' mountains. Why did I come back to Korea, out of all the trails in the world I chose this - I didn't even consider another one. Right now all seem more interesting.
Suddenly my mind settles somewhat; it wouldn't really matter what trail, which landscape - some may be more spectacular, longer, more interesting etc. The point is that this landscape is exposing me to myself. Maybe the homogenous nature of these hills is reflecting my life right now. Where is the purpose? Why can't I shut those doors?Why won't I open those ones? Where do I have to go next. I feel like I could conquer anything, be anyone, if someone would just tell me WHAT!? Have I really asked that question? No. Think I'm starting to grasp commitment. I swore I would finish this hike no matter what. It has not been easy, injury and all. But the harder you push yourself in anything - the greater the reward after. You just have to keep going, part by part, piece by piece. Shut up Goenka.  Even after 95 km over 4 days, leaving the ridge I feel slightly disappointed. I could have gone harder.
But to realise this every moment is impossible. To my novice brain anyway. When you have something you can't see it. When it's gone you want it back, not even knowing what it was. It's so easy to change your life in your head. Discipline. I need to firmly establish bottom lines and ruthlessly enforce them in my life. Very easy to say - the trail has exposed that for sure.
The purpose has to be first, live that and no matter how foggy it gets it will surely get clearer. What the heck is the purpose??
I don't wanna meditate. I desperately wanna meditate until this madness goes away. Sit down right now then. Fuck that, I'll do it later.

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 if not, there'll be some retrospective and unpublished posts to come once we're done.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.