We ROCKED that Rock!!

I finally climbed Mount Seoraksan!! (Wait - that might be redundant... "san" means "mountain"... I'm a foreigner, whatever it works.) This past weekend, my friend Gloria and I hiked/scaled to the top of Ulsanbawi, a beautiful rock formation smack dab in the middle of the park. It was gorgeous, and really nice to get out of the smog and congestion that surrounds Seoul and its outlying areas.

Located on the East Sea, we arrived in Sokcho Saturday afternoon, grabbed some Chinese noodles and dumplings and started off up to the mountain (only a 1,000 won bus from Sokcho to Seoraksan! ASAH!). Once we got to the national park, we had to choose which route to go, and from stories of friends, we decided to do Ulsanbawi in all its granite glory. In addition to it being a steep hike, there are 800 (or 888 if you ask locals) steps to the tippy-top. Our friend Sara told us about these steps, saying there were so many steps that when you thought you were at the top, there were only more steps up into the clouds. Nah, it can't be that bad. We assumed she was just exaggerating, and we dismissed her shenanigan speaking.

When I said I was going to climb a mountain, I wasn't meaning in literal terms, I thought it was going to be more along the lines of a hike, albeit strenuous at times. That is what I had anticipated, but it was not the case at all. There was climbing, I won't say there was a lot, but there was quite a bit. It was great, though! The scenery was spectacular, the views were breathtaking. Sure, there were [many] moments on [what Bowie refers to as] the "Stairs of Death" (seeming-rickety metal stairs twisting up the granite rock face) - open stairs, too, mind you. Like the ones you can look down through, the ones that gave me vertigo when I was climbing up a two- or three-stories wooden set up to "H2Oh no!" at Vernon, NJ's Action Park (I mean Mountain Creek). Yeah, well I got vertigo back then, and I got it again this past weekend. There was no singing to calm my nerves - like I do when I ski difficult slopes - only panicked whisperings. Not even reassuring whispers. I was whispering things along the lines of, "I'm going to die. I'm going to die right here on these stairs. I'm going to fall off these stairs. I'm never going to see the world. I don't want to die! I'm so scared. I'm so scared. Can I please go back down? I don't think I can move. I honestly can't move. What was that noise?!" I was half whispering to myself and half to Gloria with machine gunfire rapidity. I was clutching the railings with a white-knuckle fear that I've only ever known when I drove that giant U-Haul from CoMO to St. Joe to Chicago in the chilly late winter of 2008. Any sailboat master would have been proud to see me climb those stairs so swiftly, as I had not one, but two hands on those railings at all times. After my initial shock subsided, I moved with such speed and precision up those stairs, even I was impressed. It was my Everest, that Ulsanbawi.

There was a moment when I was climbing, during the fear of immediate and ultimate (what other kind is there?) death when I looked up and whispered, "I feel so small" with granite rock shooting up from either side of me, it was an incredible sight to behold for a split second, until a shift in the stairs made me realize where I was. I imagined they would rip out of the rock at any moment and I would find myself tumbling down everything I had just climbed - morbid, I know.

Afterwards, I found myself recounting the trek to my mother, and I told her how this experience had awakened my irrational fear of heights, but is something really irrational when you could die from it? Maybe not, but when I see children bounding up or down high area with loose, happy smiles on their faces instead of tight, cautious fear, it makes me wonder. All in all, I was so happy that I did it, and was able to share the experience with Gloria, who I would not have been able to make it without - given that she stayed over Friday night/Saturday morning and woke me up at 7:05a after we had only just got back from dancing at 5:30a. (Holy moly, me oh my! Korea and your 24-hourness.) Her encouragement to rouse me out of bed consisted of shouting "Is this the kind of traveler you're going to be, sleeping through adventures?" and throwing pillows. We also made it up and back in record time, two hours and twenty-nine minutes, while the ladies in the Tourist Info office told us it would be more like four hours! Rock stars! - no pun intended. Har har though, anyway.

Unfortunately we didn't have enough time to check out the supposedly beautiful Sokcho beaches because both Glor and I needed to be back early on Sunday (her to bungee and tie up loose ends because she left yesterday! And I needed to be back to pick up my friend Liz from the airport bus!! Travel buddy's here). The people in the area were friendly, the mood was laidback, and the scene was good. Highly recommended for adventurous travelers in Korea.