The Vacation Continued

On our second day in Seoul, we headed out to Bukhanson National Park.  We rode outside the city for just over half an hour, followed the crowd off the train (there were many Koreans who looked like they were ready to hike riding the train at this point, so it was easy to figure out which direction to go), and found ourselves at the base of a very impressive mountain.  All that was left was to head up to the summit, a large outcropping of rock that rose before us, towering over the temples and shops at its base.

We must have looked a bit out of place as we made our way through the markets, because a Korean man approached and explained that he was a park ranger.  He was very nice and wanted to make sure we had all the information we needed for our journey, disappearing into the ranger station to get a map and another ranger with a camera.  Thus we became the foreign stars of the new Bukhanson National Park brochure, posing for many pictures and listening to our new ranger friend explaining all he could and using all the English he could to describe to us our options and give us suggestions for our journey.  We posed pointing at the map, and looking at the various routes we could take through the wilderness.  We had of course woke up hard after spending the entirety of the day before on our feet and probably looked a bit like the living dead, but we will probably never see the pictures, anyway, until, of course, the day we see our images pop up on the Internet advertising some obscure product in Korean.

We opted for the route described to us as "easy and gentle" and set off comforted by the map in my pocket.  The trails were incredibly well-groomed and wide enough for a car, so the beginning of the hike was very easy.  We stopped and took some pictures of a temple near the beginning of our hike before continuing on our way, enjoying the Fall colors around us and the cool, fresh mountain air.  When we did start to climb, it was up stairs that were built into the hillside.  We wouldn't have to worry about getting our hands dirty, yet.  We stopped for lunch and ate the bagels with cream cheese we purchased from Dunkin' Donuts on our way to the train that morning.  Bagels never tasted so good than after 5 months in Mongolia.  Sitting on a rock at a turn in the trail, red trees surrounding us, many friendly Korean hikers making the journey with us, bagel melting in my mouth.  I couldn't wish for a better start to my day, or a more surreal hiking experience. 

We continued, really climbing now to a point on our map labeled Uiam.  We could see it through the trees, jutting straight up from the mountainside.  Uiam is supposed to be shaped like the Virgin Mary holding her Child, and looking at it we thought we could make out the shape.  Or maybe our fatigued eyes were playing tricks on us.  We passed a Danger sign that we understood because it showed a hiker falling off a rock.  Pictures really are the universal language.  Now we were able to do some real rock climbing and we scaled the side of a granite cliff (okay it was probably only 10 ft. to the top, but it was fun all the same and even a little 'dangerous').  We found our way to a long, steep, twisting staircase that led to the top of Uiam.  Hundreds of steps later with terribly aching calves we had arrived.  If only we knew the thousands of steps left to climb.  For the moment we looked out across the ridgelines and were greeted by the fantastic sight of rocky crags as far as the eyes could see.  We could hear booming off in the distance and wondered gloomily if a storm was approaching, but the sky was perfectly clear.  Reality dawned and our eyes met knowingly.  We were hearing the DMZ, or some military drills of some sort, anyway.  North Korea was off in the distance, still out of sight, but not that far, really.

We cut across the ridgeline from Uiam to get to the peak, Mt. Jaunbong, helped along the way by ropes and rails and some sections of the rock were getting steep.  The view to our left kept opening up and showing the magical view of mountains disappearing in the distance.  The immensity never fails to light up your imagination, like you could take off and disappear in the beauty of it for days on end.  After much walking, and many breaks to admire the view, we arrived at the base of Mt. Jaunbong.  We looked up the steep slope to the top and avoided the drunk Koreans wrestling among the picnickers on the ridge.  The ascent was straight up a very steep rock cliff, aided by a metal rail that had been pounded into the rock.  We made our way, hand over hand, whipped the wind and steadying wobbly knees as we came over the crest.  The view was amazing from the top as we sat precariously perched on the smoketop-shaped summit, drinking it in.

Heading back down the mountain, through the markets and into Seoul, I knew this hike would be the highlight of our vacation.  It was partly because my feet and legs were left in such a rubbery state at this point that I knew we wouldn't have nearly as much energy the last two days to get out and do things, but it was mainly the majesty of the place.  It felt like stepping into another world, and as we returned to the urban landscape of Seoul, my mind kept escaping back to the mountains and breathing in the view.  Later, we visited Cheongyeonggung Stream and went up to Seoul Tower, but nothing in Seoul could quite compare to the soaring, jagged mountains of Bukhanson National Park.

Discovering the Seoul of a Place

Vacation in Seoul, South Korea, Day 1

We arrived in the dark of the night at Incheon Airport, just a short bus ride from our hostel.  You cannot see anything when you arrive somewhere at night, so the drive was a dark blur.  Korea still a mystery.  The real fun began when we got off the bus and followed directions to our hostel.  On the street level at night, you can sense the energy behind a place, and our neighborhood in Seoul had energy.  You could feel it zipping along your arms and up and down your legs.  Bright lights lit the street and we passed many restaurants, fish and eels gliding in tanks.  We made a mental note to avoid any restaurants with live eels swimming outside.  A mental note we were able to keep throughout the trip.

The directions to the hostel were excellent and we found our way, only to discover our host could not open the door to our complex.  I'm not sure what happened, but he apparently did not know the code for getting in.  We were stuck in the lobby waiting for the door company man, and escaped to the city to find something to eat.

Cutting through the neighborhood, we discovered restaurants all around.  We were surrounded by restaurants.  Unfortunately, all the writing was in Korean and we did not know any Korean.  We looked at pictures, but they only helped so much as well because we were no Korean culinary experts, either.  Besides, the picture of the soft, pink piglet on the wall of one restaurant only made me want to swear off pork for the rest of my life.  A Babe killer I was not.

Eventually we settled on a restaurant that said "Traditional Korean Restaurant" in small letters on the outside, figuring that was a good sign there might be some English in the restaurant.  Apparently we weren't too good at figuring, but they did have a picture menu, with three choices, all very meat heavy.  We tried to point to the picture of bowls of noodles, but got some incomprehensible, but insistent Korean.  I am not sure why, but we were not allowed to have bowls of noodles.  We needed to order the bulgogi, or Korean barbecue.  We put the meat in a big leaf of lettuce and added various other ingredients spread on our table, some onions, chives, spicy red sauce of some sort, and some vegetable that was similar to water chestnut (but not).  We also had some soft tofu that I never did figure out how we were supposed to use.  The combination was very good, and we ended up with way too much food that we somehow managed to consume, turning into overfilled balloons for our return walk to the hostel.  It was all topped off with a refreshing sweet rice drink called sinkhae.

We stumbled our way back to the hostel to discover the lounge area empty, no manager in sight.  Our bags had disappeared and the door to our room, an adjacent building to the main hostel building, was still locked.  Thankfully, we found another tenant who could tell us the passcode to get into the building and we found our things safely stashed in the room.  We had survived the first night and managed to get dinner in Seoul.

Our first day in Seoul was a busy day and we spent a lot of time on our feet.  At some point, we are going to learn that to truly enjoy a vacation you need to take it easy, not just see as many sights as possible.  We have yet to learn that lesson, though, and found ourselves trekking all over downtown Seoul, taking in the sights the city had to offer.  We tried out the metro system (fantastic) and got out at Anguk station, near some of the ancient palaces of the Joseon empire of Korea.  We saw a Taekwondo performance in front of the folk museum, with lots of flying and spinning kicks.  It reminded me of the slapping game I played as a kid, where you try to slap another person in the face without getting slap but don't actually hit them very hard because they were spinning around fast without making real solid contact and then pretending to be hurt.  Actually a very entertaining show, a display of athleticism and comedy.  It was probably the best show we saw in Seoul.

We walked next door to the Geongbokgung palace and saw the pavilion in the lily pond with a great view of the mountains in the background.  We walked around the palace and looked in the different rooms.  We saw the throne.  After a while all the palace buildings start looking alike, but it was a beautiful ground and great place for a day of strolling.  

 

 








We accidentally found ourselves hiking up Bugaksan Mt. in the neighboring park, my wife doing the whole hike in her flats.  We probably made some poor decisions about how much walking to do on our first day, but we had a great time and I suppose that is most important.




Food was a big theme of Seoul, and we looked for noodles wherever we could find them.  And lots of kimchi, which was of course included with every meal.  We found a nice place for noodles for lunch on our first day.  How could we tell?  Well, they had nice pictures on the outside with English translations, so we figured if nothing else worked we could point hysterically at the picture.  It worked out and was very tasty, though the stainless steel chopsticks were a little challenging to use.  For dinner, we found a nice place in the Insadong neighborhood that had many traditional Korean dishes and a menu with English translations.  Again, the pictures outside the restaurant were very important in our decision to try it out.  Obviously the best way to get foreign clientele to a restaurant is to display pictures of delicious looking food prominently outside your place of business.  It worked for us.

We rolled our way back to our hostel to rest up for a big hike the next day.  Our feet were aching from walking on them all day.  We really need to learn to take it easy on our vacations.  Dreams of rocky peaks, aching feet, and gasps for air filled my sleep.  I was absolutely delighted about what would unfold the next day.

10/10/10

We've been taking it pretty easy this weekend, after two weeks of one or the other of us being sick.  But Sunday was such a nice day that we decided to do an easy hike in the hills just down the road from our house.    Apparently, 10/10/10 is an auspicious day to the Mongolians, as there was a huge shaman gathering at the ovoos just inside Bogd Khan Park.  The shamans were adorned with long hide fringe with bells, animal pelts, and feathers.  We watched them circle the ovoos drumming furiously a few times, and then went on our way. 

 We headed up into the hills, and stopped at one more ovoo to take pictures and enjoy the view.

 
Andy tried to make friends with some horses grazing on the hillside, but they were not interested.  

 

As we were climbing up a ridge I heard a whistle.  Looking up, we saw a horseman wearing a traditional del thundering along the ridge ahead of us, driving his herd home for the evening.  At moments like that, you realize that some things in this country have changed very little in hundreds of years.    It's always a disappointment to leave the hills and head home, but we'll keep trying to get out as much as we can as winter sets in.

Trekking through Bogd Khan

Originally posted: Monday, August 9, 2010

On Saturday, we loaded up in a minibus complete with fearless Mongolian driver and our amazing guide, Tumi.  We drove 50km around the Bogd Khan protected area, our hearts dropping below our knees as we contemplated the fact that we would need to walk all the way back to UB.  You could see concern hiding behind the eyes of most everyone in the van.  Our courageous crew counted ten.  We assured ourselves by reminding each other, "Now, the hike is only 16km, right?  I mean, we've been driving a ways now!"

We drove slowly over marshland, testing out the minivans shocks, then we headed up a long, windy dirt road.  The kind you can find just about anywhere in Mongolia.  We finally came to a stop at the Mandshir Khid monastery, or what was left of it.  Like most monasteries in Mongolia, Mandshir Khid was destroyed in 1937 when Choibalsan cracked down on traditional religious practices throughout Mongolia following the inspiration of destruction established by Josef Stalin in the Soviet Union.  Part of the monastery was supposedly rebuilt, though not very visible to our group of travellers.  The landscape was phenomenal.  After a brief pit stop at an outhouse that was literally 3 walls around a hole in the ground (why didn't I just head for the trees?), we set off on our great adventure.

We headed up a steep, rocky hill.  Tumi pointed out the high quality American marking tape he and a crew had used about 5 years ago to mark the trail better (incidentally I inspected some of this tape later in our journey and found it to be German, but it sounded good to all the Americans in the group anyway).  We crested the hill to find a nicely marked trail with yellow squares marking every so many trees.  We questioned whether we needed Tumi to lead the way, and he just raised his eyebrows and told us to wait until later.

This point in the march was a gentle walk through the forest.  We breathed deeply of the fresh mountain air and felt on top of the world, or at least 1600 meters of the world as we were around that elevation.  Everyone was quite chatty at this stage of the trek, talking about adventures, sports, and the ever present topic of where we might go to live in the world next.  Eventually, and I have no idea the kilometer mark, we came out in a small field with a perfectly round ovoo.  Tumi took out some Buddhist prayer flags he had collected and several members of the group added to the ovoo out of respect and with wishes for a safe journey through the wilderness.

Careless and at peace, we left the field and turned the corner to the first big climb of the day, a sheer hill I could at least see the top of.  I laughed and asked Tumi if we would be going uphill like this the rest of the way.  He said yes, and we kept climbing.  After we made it to the top, the trail leveled out for some time, and the trip was a pleasant walk again until we came out to another clearing and a ridge line in front of us.  At this point, Tumi decided he was tired of guiding us and we should find our own way.  "Which way should we go?" he asked.  As we pointed to every direction under the sun, Tumi ended up agreeing with Alissa and we headed to the left along the side of the hill to get up over the ridge line.

This section was one of the more difficult parts of the hike for me.  Walking on the side of the hill started to really bother my ankle, and in turn my Achilles tendon which would be throbbing after the hike and the next day.  This was also the part of the hike when our trailblazer, Nick, took a tumble and landed hard on some rocks.  He shook it off and said he was lucky.  I couldn't help but think of how much the fall must have hurt.  Many of us bush-whacked through some stinging nettles and had burning skin.  Tumi told us if we peed on it the pain would go away.  Nobody followed the advice.

On the ridgeline, we stopped for lunch.  We had hiked for about 2 hours and were starting to get tired.  We munched on sandwiches and fruit.  Tumi was by far the most prepared with a loaf of bread and whole sliced salami.  He finished his meal of with a Red Bull and was up and ready to go.  We didn't break for too long.  There was still a long way to go in our 6-8 hour hike, and we were ready to keep moving.

We cut through a field, scaring a family of quaills.  After the field was the marsh, another difficult step of our journey.  A thunderstorm was threatening on the other side of the mountain.  We heard the crashing thunder and felt the temperature drop and the wind pick up.  The trudge through the marsh involved some of the most difficult footing of the trek.  At least half our party succumbed to the uneven footing and fell crashing to the ground.  Michelle was almost swallowed by the open earth as we kept stumbling across holes hidden by the long marsh grass.

Our party stumbled out of the marshes, getting lost and finding ourselves again, to encounter the biggest climb of the hike.  It went up and up and up.  We couldn't see the top and the incline was steep.  In some places we had to crawl on all fours.  We took a second break near the top for an afternoon snack.  Tumi assured us when we got to the top it would be flat and then we would descend down Zaisan.  These words of hope spurred us onward.  When we crossed the threshold, we picked up the pace.  There was not nearly as much talking now.  We separated and came back together, a constantly changing mass of ten people forming different groups throughout the walk.

The downhill to Zaisan was steep.  My toes jammed into the ends of my hiking boots, and I pictured blackened members ready to fall off.  I felt pressure on the outside of my foot and wondered if blisters were in my future.  We rested on a log.  Amy now carrying a large garbage bag as she tried valiently to single-handedly rid Mongolia of decades of trash.  As we stumbled downhill, we came across a tourist couple from Germany.  "We are an hour from the bottom," they said with thick Bavarian accents.  I reminded myself they had been hiking uphill.  It may only be 30 minutes for us, maybe even quicker if I lose my balance.  One can only hope.  I felt myself limping at this point as my ankle and Achilles were fully letting me know how they felt about our excellent adventure.

We broke through the trees (yes, about 30 minutes later) to the sound of laughter, people out picnicking and having a grand time.  Are those horses grazing next to the trail?  Kids playing basketball?  Do I smell dinner cooking?  My stomach growled.  It was 4:30, and we had finished the hike in 6 hours.  Tumi told us we did very well.  6 hours is a great time for that hike.  My ankle throbbed again, and we loaded up for the drive home.