Daechunbong Revisited

14 November 2006



Bak-dam-sa is a small town at the top of Misyroeng pass, just to the west of Sokcho. It sits at the west entrance of Sorak-san Park, and its entire reason for being is the entrance to the park. While some people actually live here, it is mostly a staging area for hikers heading into the park through the back entrance, avoiding the crowds that fill the easier side of the park at Sorak-dong, or East Sorak.

Bak-dam-sa is for serious hikers. The only trail goes almost eleven kilometers to a five hundred year old temple that clings to the back side of Sorak Mountain like a piece of fruit on the end of a branch.

The trail itself is fairly easy, that is until the last bit, and winds along a river past waterfalls and rocks with stunning cliff views and mountain crags along the entire distance.

We had planned this trip for a while, Karen, Kirsty, Helen, Conner, and I. We had all wanted to hike up to the peak from the back way because Karen, the only one of us who had trekked this trail, had said the views were spectacular.

With the coming of winter here in Korea, the days have gotten much shorter. We knew that we would be spending the night up in the mountains as there would be no way that we could summit and be down the other side before dark fell around 5:30.

Saturday was the big day. We had all loaded our rucksacks with food and water, enough for two days, and had stocked ourselves with many layers of sweatshirts, hats, gloves, and thermals. We knew the mountain wind would cut like shards of glass the higher we got and we expected to encounter ice and snow, winter had defenantly arrived in the mountains.

We got up late, we knew we would only have to walk for about six hours, around eight, and made it to the bus station to grab the nine o’clock bus for Bak-dam-sa, and rode for about an hour.

The way to the village went first north and then west. As we climbed higher into the mountains we weaved and swerved along a very narrow rode through cliffs and crags, along mountain streams. The road went through small towns, almost deserted, and past the usual army bases crammed with tanks and trucks, keeping their silent watch for northern aggression.

When we finally reached Misyroeng Pass around ten we got off the bus and headed into the park. After paying another two thousand won for a quick shuttle bus ride into the first temple we were on our own, in the wild.

We wound our way up a long river valley. Reaching the first temple we stopped and had cinnamon tea and hot roasted potatoes that the monks cooked for the hikers that made their way into this rather secluded valley. After filling our water bottles at as small Buddhist shrine we kept making our way farther and farther into the hills.

As we went up the trail we could see the damage that had been done by the recent heavy winds and rains that had swept the Sokcho area for the past several weeks. The orange bridges that usually litter the park to help hikers on their way had been washed away and temporary bridges made of logs lashed together with ropes had replaced them. Everywhere huge trees had been uprooted and thrown down the river channel sweeping rocks and debris downstream.

I have to hand it to the Korean Park Service at this point. These tireless men and women had obviously laboured for hours in the cold and wind to make the trail passable clearing rocks and trees so that people like us could use the trail.

After walking for about five hours we reached the second temple. Built in the early seventeenth century it has been destroyed and rebuilt many times since. It sits in a beautiful setting, high up on the edge of the mountains. From the trail below you could hear the chanting of the monks long before you came to the temple. Their chanting and knocking on their begging bowls filled the air with sound and spurred us on to our goal.

After sitting for a while in the setting sun we had a few cups of coffee and soaked up the warmth that the orange disk in the sky was dispersing before it settled down for the night. We knew we had to get going to get up to the shelter but we just sat there for a while soaking up the atmosphere.

Finally it was time to go and we headed up the mountains for the last slog to the shelter. Winding our way up a rocky, narrow trail, we looked back on the sun that was starting to settle behind the mountains. Down and down it went, slowly settling and leaving us to scramble up the path in ever decreasing light.

As I finally neared the shelter I could barley see my hand in front of my face but I could hear a flapping, like a sheet in the wind, and I looked up to see, ever so faintly, a crisp Korean flag waving in the wind, finally I had reached the shelter, my home for the night.

After a relatively sleepless night, although the girls told me that I snored my ass off when I did get a couple of hours, we woke with the sun to make our assault on the summit. Kirsty and Helen decided to cut it short and did not go up the mountain with us but Conner, Karen, and I decided to go for broke and bundled up for our climb up the third highest mountain in South Korea.
My God it was cold. Winter in Bemidji is bad enough but up here the wind cut like the proverbial blade, wafting through the four layers of shirts. Luckily I had remembered to bring my good hat and choppers so my hands and head were warm but my face felt frozen as we clambered over the broken trial to a height of 1780 meters.
And that is pretty much it for probably my last big climb of the year. We went down the front, finally getting warmer as we reached the foot of the mountains. We finally left the front entrance of the park at three on the nose, exhausted but happy having done about twenty miles in two days, much of it over huge rocks and up incredibly steep trails. Put it this way, I am writing this on Tuesday and I still cannot go up stairs without pain!

A note about pictures-

1. Looking up one of the many waterfalls that littered the trail on the way to the summit

2. On the way to the summit, the mountains in the distance like folds of paper

3. Coming down the mountain, the moon is still in the sky early Sunday morning

4. The sun sneaking down behind the mountains from the temple

5. Conner, Karen, and myself at the summit