Distance: 16.1km (293.6km), time spent: 11:35 (152:01).
Altitude (start / end / highest): 450m / 500m / 984m.
Weather: Sunny, but overcast towards the evening.
With the toil and lawlessness of yesterday fresh in memory, I am back at Neuljae. In Hwabukmyeon, the host at the minbak had arranged a taxi for me, without me asking for it, which stood ready and waited for me outside this morning. I am also not alone here either, out from the bushes and the closed section on the other side of the road a young guy came bouncing. Now we both stands looking at the steles, the monuments and the sanshingak (which is empty inside) here and are preparing to continue further on the spiritual backbone. There is yet another closed section that awaits me later in the day.
Quiet in the streets of Hwabukmyeon in the morning.
The young man carries a significantly lesser backpack than I am and is speeding ahead faster than I do, with music in his ears. I can hear the sound from the music through the trees from above, the rhythms and tones leaving behind an emptiness in his footsteps. It is quiet again by an altar that is offering a marvellous view back towards Songnisan, this alter is a sinseondae, which is a spirit immortal platform, a shrine to the spirits (sanshin) that roams the mountains. The alter consists of a black tablet that stands between two incense holders of granite. The moment calls for quiet contemplation.
Sanshingak at Neuljae.
From Cheonghwasan (984m), spirits are high. I am walking as one with the spirits, and as one along with the ridge, this section of the trail is also beautiful in all its demandingness. But in Songnisan I am not, between Neuljae and Miljae the trail skirts along the national park. As soon as I enter the national park again, the trail will yet again be closed. Before I get so far, I will have to enjoy all the views, all the thin backs of stone you have to balance on, the fluttering ribbons, the joy of being in the adventure I am, while the mountain spirits circles invisible around me. 'Vigorously hiking the Baekdudaegan. All hopes and expectations are so sweet. Ah, ah, our mountains!' is it written on the top of Johangsan (953m).
Sinseondae below Cheonghwasan, a spirit immortal platform, Songnisan in the background.
The sound of running water meets me at Gomochi, a small and peaceful pass, and a breathing pause from the stony ridge above. A young man is sitting at the pass, quietly, almost motionless, a tent canvas is lying unfolded nearby. Jin Hwang Kim is also walking the Baekdudaegan, and as other Koreans, he does the trail in stages. It is hard for them to get enough free time to be able to walk the whole trail as a thru-hike. He goes as far each day as he feels like; today it felt good to stop here at Gomochi. It is water here and it is a quiet place. I let myself be lured by the contemplative atmosphere, and stays here for a long time. Way too long.
View from the summit of Johangsan.
Having finished my break at Gomochi, I climb back up on the ridge again, where I am met by some huge and really amazing boulders. One of them is bearing a name that gives me associations to something else, Gojillabawi. Above me, clouds are now coming rolling in on the sky, some of them being quite dark, something that just is building up under the mystique of the area. I arrive at Miljae and with that, I have yet again walked into Songnisan. From here, the trail is closed again, until the Akhuibong-junction about 12km away. Unlike at Munjangdae the place is virtually deserted. And as the cliché goes, the first cut is the deepest. I once again cross the borders and venture further on forbidden paths. Inside the closed area there is a peak that I do not want to miss, Daeyasan.
Miljae, at the border of the closed section of the trail.
From Miljae it goes straight, and steep, up towards the spectacular. Huge boulders and formations with bent and gnarled trees growing around, the climb is hard and the landscape is tough with views formed by light coming through the layer of clouds. Ah, ah, their mountains, Daemunbawi with its house of rocks. Up towards Daeyasan there is a fantastic climb, with ropes and ravines as obstacles. On the summit (930m), there is a mighty and heavenly vista that is meeting me, and I stay at the summit for a good while. Through the clouds, I can see the rays from the sun that are illuminating the landscape below, like small spotlights in the nature.
Now what may be the most demanding section of the trail, besides yesterday's section through Gaegumeongbawi, is ahead of me. And what is so nicely called the '100-meter rope'. From Daeyasan the path goes almost straight down the north face of the summit, with the aid of several series of rope. Parts of the descent are near abseil down vertical mountainsides, so serious caution are advised. Even so, I am having a great time going down, though this was the part of the trail that I was most nervous about beforehand. On the way down however, what makes me nervous are voices coming from the deep below. But I think those who are on their way up, are just as nervous, since I can hear a hush from down there and then it becomes quiet. It turns out there were two other hikers going in the opposite direction.
View from the top of some huge boulders that the trail is passing over. Sunrays shines through the layer of clouds.
It is first now, after I am safely down from Daeyasan that I meet with my first big problem on the walk. The sky has begun to change into a different colour, evening is approaching; in other words, it will be dark in not so long. I believe it will not take too long time before I am at Beorimigijae, but in that I am deeply mistaken. At this time, I am very tired, and is using a lot more time than usual. The path is also not so easy to follow. And when I am standing on a small peak a little while after having climbed Chotdaebong (668m), a lump of a peak, it has gotten dark.
Daeyasan, a steep summit I had looked forward to climb.
I have a hard time finding the path down from the small peak. In the dark, the trail is not so visible and since I am in a closed section, there are also a lot less ribbons to navigate after too. Further down it only gets worse, it is pitch black and I am unable to see if I am on the path or not. My headlamp is displaying signs that the battery is weak. After a while, I just have to realize that I believe have gotten lost. It is not a good feeling. I have been keeping watch on the compass needle and seen that I have been walking in the roughly correct direction, but still. Later on, I can hear the quiet noise of water coming from a creek. On the map there is no signs marking the existence of a water source or creek near Beorimigijae, and I could not remember it was saying anything about it in the guidebook either.
At the summit of Daeyasan.
But, there is water nearby and I have food in the backpack. I decide to go down to the water, which turns out to be a quite big stream actually. My thought is now to fill up with water and then find a place to pitch the tent, and then use tomorrow to find out where I am, when it is light. While I am standing and filling up water, a car is driving past me only ten meters away from me. Up at the road, I can only look astoundingly to the fact that I am only 50 meters down from Beorimigijae. I must have been walking in the correct direction almost all the way, only deviated from the trail towards the end.
The '100-meter rope'. On the way down from Daeyasan, one of several abseils down from the peak.
From within the trees on the other side of the road at Beorimigijae, where the closed section of the trail is continuing, I can see a small blue light. Another surveillance-camera monitoring the trail? West of the pass there is a camping site a couple of kilometres away, which I plan to stay the night at (I am still in a national park). I am hoping to get a hike down. Easier said than done, there are few cars passing by while I walk down the dark road. No one is stopping, which maybe is not that strange. To pick up a tall and dark stranger in the dark may not feel so safe. I have afterwards learned that you shall make a bow while you hitch in South-Korea to get a hike.
Darkness is slowly approaching, view back towards Daeyasan.
On the way down the road, however, I grow tired. On both sides of the road, I can hear water running, and when I see a small forest track take off from the road, I do not hesitate. Too tired to care at the moment, so I start walking on the track to find me a campsite. I do not have to walk far until I find a nice place to pitch my tent. Just before I am about to take out the tent, I receive a call from home, it feels good to talk to familiar voices again after the events of the evening. I cook up my usual Baekdudaegan-dish (ramyon-noodles with ham), before I crawl into the tent. It is quiet outside; I feel satisfied lying and relaxing inside my little cave. The day has been fantastic, but I could have done without the feeling of getting lost.
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