It was bound to happen sooner or later. One of my many adventures here in South Korea did NOT going according to plan.
Chuseok is the Korean Mid-Autumn harvest festival. It is one of the biggest holidays in Korea. Very traditional. It is sometimes referred to as "Korean Thanksgiving" since it is a special time for family, friends, and food.
Chuseok also means that I got a blissful three days off work. So, including the weekend, I was going to have FIVE WHOLE DAYS to explore Korea.
On the first day of my holiday, I decided to hike Apsan Mountain. Apsan translates to "front" in English, and it is considered the front (or most prominent) mountain in Daegu. It is a really popular place to visit in Daegu (for locals and tourists), and the Apsan Observatory has some of the best views overlooking the city.
Apsan Mountain is a part of Apsan park, which includes three peaks: Apsan (2, 159 ft), Sanseong (2,142 ft), and Daedeok (1,916 ft). Approximately 10 million people visit the park every year and there is no admission fee! There are a variety of trails and activities ranging from very easy to very difficult. There is horse riding and archery, a dinosaur trail with animatronic dinosaurs, several temples, and the Apsan Cable Car, which will take you to Apsan Observatory.
NOW. Before I begin this cautionary tale, I need you to know that I realize that I pretty much made every wrong decision possible. Some neuron in my brain choose that particular day to misfire...repeatedly...turning what should have registered as complete nonsense into perfect logic.
This is a story about how NOT to hike a mountain in a foreign country.
From the beginning, my plan was to wait until the afternoon before heading to Apsan Mtn. I wanted to time my arrival at the peak as close to sunset as possible, so that I could get those classic, golden hour, Instagram-worthy pictures of the sun setting over the city. (Yes, even I am guilty of chasing after a good Instagram post.) After that, I would wait for the sun to set and take some great night time shots of the city as well.
Solid plan, right?
With sunset around 6:30pm, I left my apartment around 2:30pm to catch the bus to Apsan. After an hour or so, I was dropped off at the base of the mountain. When I stepped off the bus, I looked around and realized I had no idea how to find the trail head. There were a lot of different paths leading in a variety of directions, but all of the trail names were primarily in Korean.
This was to be the first of many moments where I thought to myself that perhaps I should have put a little more thought into this hike.
Not to be detered, I quickly downloaded a hiking app onto my phone that included some of the major trails in Apsan park. I found a trail that looked like it would take me in a full circle from the base of the moutain, up to the peak for some sunset photos, then back down the other side, taking me past the observatory, where I would be able to get night time photos of the city.
As I started up a trail that I was like 70% sure was the correct trail to the peak, I got maybe 100 yards into the trail and thought, "I have made a mistake." I was in no shape to be hiking a mountain after getting almost no physical activity for the last several months - besides all the walking I have been doing around the city. And for some reason, walking to and from the subway stop every day somehow convinced my brain that I was ready to hike a mountain.
It's at this point I feel I should mention that on ALL the websites and hiking blogs that I read about Apsan, the trail I was currently hiking (and about to give up on) had a difficulty level of 'hard'. Not beginner, not intermediate...hard. And as my "lizard brain" was the only part of my brain to show up that day, I just breezed right past the fact that my plans involved me - a very inexperienced, novice hiker - hiking a trail listed as hard. Which is about 3 levels past the level I should be hiking.
So as I struggled through the first 100 yards of this trail, I thought, "This is ridiculous. I'm just going to turn around now and hike some of the lower, easier trails around a few of the temples, and then call it a day." So, I turned around hiked back down the way I had come and vowed to be more reasonable about my physical capabilities in the future, like a responsible adult. (See Stop #1 on the trail map included at the bottom of this post.)
So, instead I went and looked at a few temples around the area. Most of which are still in use today. (See Stop #2 on the trail map.)
You guys, can we just stop for a second and talk about the fact that there are NO filters on these photos?! Like how crazy, gorgeous is Korea?
Right. Back to hiking.
So, after I had walked around a few of the temples, I got my second wind and was once again feeling very confident in my ability to hike to the peak. I found a secondary trail that also pointed in the direction of Apsan Mtn. It was 2.9km (1.8 miles) to the peak....or so I thought.
So equipped with only 1 granola bar and (by this point) half a bottle of water, I began to climb.
Yeah, you read that right. I had about 8oz of water left for the ENTIRE hike.
The first 1/3 of the hike wasn't awful. It was a gentle sloping incline with occasional steps built into the trail. It further spurred the false sense of confidence I had under my belt that day.
So, when the trail took a decided turn uphill, I just kept on going. Had I had even half an ounce of extra energy to enjoy the scenery, it would have been a very nice hike indeed. As it was, my focus was entirely narrowed down to the nest three steps in front of me on the trail. I was dripping with sweat and rationing my water at this point, since, like the novice that I am, I decided to hike the mountain with only a half a bottle of water to last through the whole hike....
Skipping forward, I come across the 1.8km to the peak sign - I'm not even half way. I am totally exhausted, my legs are shaking, and I think to myself..no way can I keep going. It's going to be impossible.
But, anyone who knows me knows it's just not in my nature to quit....even when I should...even if I want to. So even though I thought about quitting every step of the way, I just couldn't bring myself to stop moving forward.
I reached a plateau of sorts and officially decided it was time to turn around. I just couldn't keep going. My body had nothing left. So, as I sat there trying to slow my heartrate for the descent, I decided to check the trails map on my phone to see just how far I had made it. Color me shocked when I saw that I was only 0.5km from the top!
Well, now I couldn't turn back..not that close to the peak!
So I hauled myself back up, turned and started to climb again.
And after about 100 ft, I saw this...
Just stairs. As far as the eye could see.
I almost turned around...again.
But I just kept on going...like a fool.
Just when I would think that I had reached the top, I would round a bend in the trail and realize the stairs just kept going. HUNDREDS of stairs.
When finally....
The top.
The peak.
I had done it. I nearly cried I was so relieved. And there was still JUST enough sunlight to take a few good pictures.
So when I reached the last stair and saw this....
I was so confused...what was happening?
You guys.
I WAS NOT ON APSAN MOUNTAIN.
After staring at the trail map next to this sign, I came to the conclusion that the "secondary trail" I had thought also led to Apsan Mtn, was in fact a trail for the mountain beside it...Sanseong Mountain. So Apsan was still 0.8km away across the ridgeline between the two mountains. (See Stop #3 on the trail map.)
At this point, I lost my mind a little.
Ok, I lost my mind a lot.
But, I was so close! How could I turn away at this point? So, with a heavy sigh full of weary resignation I turned and began to trudge along the ridgeline to Apsan.
It was along this ridgeline that I was finally rewarded with some spectacular sunset views of Daegu.
You gotta admit, the view is pretty stunning.
So, I took some time on the ridgeline. Let the breeze blow through and cool me down, finished the rest of my water (my lizard brain forgot we still had to hike down), ate my granola bar, and tried to let my heartrate return to normal.
I knew my body had reached total exhaustion way before this point, so a small part of me knew that time was ticking down until my muscles totally collapsed.
But still I lingered.
I am sure at this point some of you might be thinking, "You know when the sun sets it's going to get dark really quick, right?"
I can tell you that up until this point I had not thought about it AT ALL.
A.T. A.L.L.
It literally did not cross my mind until I took this pitcture.
Notice how dark it looks? Yeah, so did I. Since I was at the peak when the sun went down, my eyes had been gradually adjusting to the lack of light, and it wasn't until I took this picture that I realized...in about 15 minutes it was going to be competely dark and I am ON TOP OF THE MOUNTAIN, with no plans as to how I was going to manage the hike down in the dark.
For about 10 full seconds I wasn't sure what to do. And then the rational side of my brain kicked in for the FIRST time all day. And I thought, "I need to get down this mountain, like, as soon as possible."
While I don't want to say that I panicked, I definitely felt a jolt or two of something close to it. Mostly over my situation: no food, no water, phone battery on 30%, and I hadn't seen another person in over an hour. But honestly, the thing I was most concerned about was being "that guy." You know, the foreigner who bites off more than she can chew and has to be rescued off the mountain. I'm not proud of it, but it was definitely my pride that kept me from fully panicking. If it was the last thing I did, I was going to make it down that mountain without asking for help.
That particular character flaw is still a work in progress.
So, I started my descent. I was following a different trail down than the one I had used on the hike up, so I was really dependent on the trail app on my phone to make sure I was heading in the right direction. It was difficult to make out the trail in the dark, especially when I was just climbing down over rocks. But the trail eventually opened up, and every 200 yards or so I would see a trail marker, which was very encouraging.
I was trying not to rush because I knew that if I twisted an ankle things would go from bad to worse.
Now at this point, I am thinking, "I'm on the right trail, all I have to do is follow it halfway down the mountain to the Apsan Observatory, and from there I can take the cable car down the rest of the way, thus limiting my time on the mountain in the dark."
Good plan, right?
Well that's when the trail abruptly ends. Quite literally.
You guys, I'm not making this up.
There is a big barrier up across the middle of the trail. It's too dark to use my translation app to see what it says, but it really didn't matter. The trail I needed continued on the other side of the barrier and there was no way I was getting across that barrier.
So, I was stuck.
And frustrated. My whole body is shaking from exhaustion and the one plan I had wasn't going to work.
So, I stood there, hands on my hips, head thrown back, trying to wrestle my emotions back under control so that I could come up with a plan B.
And in that moment, I suddenly remembered these walks I used to take with my friends and co-workers around the place where I used to work. It was always dark by the time we were finished, which meant this wasn't really my first time walking around in the woods after dark. Granted, I didn't have anyone showing me the way this time, but thinking back on those walks gave me the confidence to do what came next.
Here was plan B.
I decided any downward movement was good. As long as I kept going downhill I would eventually reach the valley. The city was crazy bright, so I knew if I could reach the valley I could just walk along the valley floor in the direction of the city until I reached the end of the forest. It wasn't a super solid plan, but it was enough to get me moving.
So I turned to my left, found a small gap in the brush (that turned out to be some sort of small game trail), took a deep breath and plunged into the woods. (See Stop #4 on the trail map and the purple trail I blazed down the side of the mountain.)
I spent the next 45 min sliding, groping, stumbling, and feeling my way down the side of the moutain in the dark. My ponytail got caught in the branches of trees, I got dirt and scratches all over my arms and legs, I saw some VERY questionable flying silhouettes in the forest surrounding me, and was borderline chanting my new mantra, "All downward movement is good movement."
Eventually, I stumbled (literally) onto a pre-existing trail. (See Stop #5 on the trail map.) I was giddy with relief that I was no longer going to half tumble down the mountain. In addition, way down in the distance I caught a glimpse of some lights. Another 20 minutes of walking and the trail opened up and turned into a smooth lighted path.
Now that I knew my misadventure in hiking was going to have a happy ending, all I had to focus on was finishing the hike down the mountain and calling a taxi to take me home.
I briefly forgot that my off-trail hiking had left me looking a little worse for the wear. As I focused on not letting my legs collapse, I was reminded of the state of my appearance by the moderately alarmed looks of the others hikers I started to encounter the closer I got the entrance of the park.
I was ENTIRELY too tired to care.
For anyone who has ever hiked before, you know that sometimes hiking downhill can be even worse on your joints and muscles than the uphill climb, and I'm pretty sure my knees aged several years on this hike.
All said and done, I made it to the bottom of the mountain, called a taxi ( no WAY was I going to be able to handle an hour bus ride back to my apartment), and somehow managed to climb the three flights of stairs to my front door.
I immediately collapsed onto my bed thinking I would immediately pass out from exhaustion, but apparently my body was in full on survival mode and I think it was worried if it let me fall asleep that we wouldn't wake back up. What I thought would take 2-3 hours ended up taking 5-6 hours. I was dirty, exhausted, beyond dehydrated, and wondering if my knees would ever recover.
So as I lay there, you know, reflecting on this disaster of a hike. I realized, there was absolutely NOBODY to blame but myself. Some lessons are really only learned the hard way, and this one will stick with me for a long, long time to come.
But, you know...
Bad decisions always make the best stories.
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