Journey to the Cave

16.10.06

This weekend was the Sorak festival, a celebration of the beauty of the fall colours of Sorak-san. While it was incredibly pretty, the crowds were horrendous. If Kim Jong Il would have launched his nukes against the park this weekend he probably would have eliminated half the population of Korea at one stroke.

After a fun night carousing with the locals, Karen and I finally headed out to the park about one. We got out of the bus at Sorak town because traffic was backed up almost five kilometers with the massive amount of people streaming into the park.

Our goal today was to hike up to the cave, a trip that I have now made a couple of times but for Karen her first run up to the shrine that sits six hundred meters above the valley for.

While strolling towards the gate we passed a few interesting sites, a Ferrari that was driven by an idiot Korean male who was obviously unable to drive it correctly, shifting gears at the wrong time, riding the clutch and the brake, a Korean woman wearing a shirt that said, “This is My Girlfriend” with an arrow pointing to her (female) friend, hordes of Koreans decked out in matching shirts and packs, outfitted as if for a six month polar expedition, and other assorted lunacies.

After fighting our way through the crowds towards the entrance we finally started our hike, elbowing stubborn Koreans out of the way as they blocked the path by walking five and six abreast. It was like being back on the football field, cutting, blocking, giving the fore arm shiver while all the time having to stop and accelerate through the crowd.

When we finally reached the turn off marking our trail the crowd thinned a little bit and we were finally able to take in the stunning panorama that opened up below us as we climbed higher and higher.

I wont bore you with the details as I recounted my last cave expedition but this one was much easier. Instead of sweating like a pig and struggling for every breath, I merely perspired like a normal human being.

When we reached the lookout we were able to stand on the edge of a ridge and look at the splendor below us. In the valley itself the canopy was still fairly green, the leaves there had not really turned colour, but as you looked a little higher on the mountains the green became interspersed with reds, yellows, greens, and gold’s.

When we got to the gave we stopped to rest for a few minutes and to give thanks before the small, gold Buddha that rested in a recess in the far back of the cave. It was here that I took the best picture that I have taken.

While sitting at the edge of the cave enjoying the view, our conversation was stopped when the resident monk began to bang on his wooden bowl and pray to the mountain gods.

The guy had a great view to give thanks for. The green pines broken up by the red of the maples and the gold of the elms, rocky crags retreating into the distance, truly a phenomenal site.

Buddhist monks have a great fear of being photographed anyway, and a true paranoia about having their picture taken while they are praying, but as I sat there I couldn’t help but take my camera slowly out of my pocket and turn it on with a barely audible click. I shifted my seat ever so slightly, and with my finger over the flash, snapped two quiet pictures. I know that I will probably go to Buddhist hell but the picture that I took, well I will treasure it for the rest of my life.

A note about picuters.

1. Obviously this is my favorite shot. I know that I will be going to Buddhist hell for it, but I really think it is the best picture that I have ever taken.
The monk is praying at the opening of the cave, in his hands you can just see the wooden mallet and bowl that he bangs to pay respect to the forest gods.

2. About midway up the path to the cave, just a nice shot through the trees of the mountains.

3. Fall colours under the canopy. The lanterns to the left are what guide you on the path to the cave.

4. A view from the lookout.

5. A little more fall splash.