Trekking
“Trek” is an under-used word in my vocabulary, but when a sister at the Taebaek community, forty years my senior, invited myself and two…
“Trek” is an under-used word in my vocabulary, but when a sister at the Taebaek community, forty years my senior, invited myself and two others on a “trek” last weekend, I was up for the adventure. Turns out, our “trek” would just be a hike of four or five hours — in freezing temperatures.
If snow is drifting at your windows as you read this, I’m envious. So far Taebaek area hasn’t got more than a dusting of snow, which is unusual — and disappointing. However, the lack of snow facilitated hiking and froze the landscape with a barren, wild beauty.
Our hike began with twenty minutes by train. Ignoring window reflections, I captured a few photos en route. I’ve ridden Korean rail a few times and never tire of the window seat. Industry, farming, villages, towns, and mountains. Countless mountains — with subsequently countless tunnels making train travel the fastest option. By car, it might have taken us two hours to drive around the mountains. One remote village alongside the tracks had to build their own train station before the government agreed to stop the trains there. Until then, the villagers had walked the tracks to get to the next station.
We arrived at a trail head, several train stations from home and four stations from our destination. My Korean hiking companions pointed out rice paddies, ginseng-growing operations, and other sights. I would have taken more photos but the temperature kept my fingers in my pockets.
Our hiking trail followed a narrow, winding river, cutting between the abrupt, thickly wooded (quintessentially Korean) mountains. Sometimes the trail crossed at railroad bridges, sometimes at large cement bridges. These low bridges take an annual vacation during rainy season when placid creeks become raging torrents, and would-be hikers must wait. Where the mountainside dropped steeply to the river, wooden stairs and walkways have been constructed. I’ve heard that Koreans generally love hiking, so trails are well-maintained. Later in our hike, we met numerous other hikers also apparently unafraid of outdoor recreation in January.
One group of hikers, pausing for lunch, held a tent over themselves to cut the wind. (My friend, more daring than I, snapped a photo.) They had even brought a tiny gas range with them and were cooking “samgyeopsal,” grilled pork belly — essentially thick strips of bacon. Not to be outdone, we sat on some beautiful (cold) boulders for a lunch of cup noodles, kimbap, and other nourishing sides. I can’t believe I ever thought a sandwich was a good hiking menu. In terms of weight, yes. I was carrying all the hot water for the ramen. Next time I want the cup noodles.
When we reached the last station, we found out we still had an hour before our train would come. Fortunately, at other times of year that location welcomes many tourists, so a row of tiny, semi-outdoor food-selling shops provided a hot cup of tea to clutch in cold hands. (Sorry, no pictures to prove. I didn’t want to put my cup down). Enjoy the other pictures, though.
Below: A tiny building, but a train station nonetheless; a life-line for the villagers.