Distance: 27.2km (495.1km), time spent: 11:36 (251:33).
Altitude (start / end / highest): 770m / 900m / 1567m.
Weather: Sunny and clear sky, then fog, some rain and gusty.
Sobaeksan is left behind me and today I am entering into a new park, Taebaeksan. Taebaeksan is as Sobaeksan also promising a walk in a barren landscape. In addition, the trail is offering a possibility of experiencing the more spiritual aspects of the culture here in Korea, since it is passing three altars on its way through the provincial park. The owner of the minbak is as promised driving me back to the pass in the morning, but I am not alone in being driven back up. Another hiker is out on the same errand as me.
Seobyeokri in the morning, to the left the restaurant where I had my dinner yesterday.
The Sun has not yet fully arisen when I leave Doraegijae, at the same time as a group of cyclists are preparing to go biking on the trail I came down from yesterday. It is a clear blue sky, I keep company with the Sun upwards, after a while it shines from the rays through the leaves on the trees, and my expectations are rising at the same speed. The path however, does not release its protective cloak of trees. It is a steady incline in the beginning, which increases in inclination the closer I get to Guryongsan (1344m), the nine dragons mountain,
There are no traces of dragons at the summit of Guryongsan, even though the vermilion colours on the trees carries a resemblance with the colour of dragon fire. Beneath the summit, I find a small wooden shack with a roof of corrugated iron a little distance off the trail, which is one of the less elaborate sanshingaks I have seen on the journey. Inside the shack, there is a tablet of wood wrapped in white paper, something that signifies an old Confucian way of enshrining spirits. The other hiker that rode with me up to Doraegijae, is catching up with me at Chadolbegi (1200m), while I am eating lunch.
A worn and less elaborate sanshingak in the woods below Guryongsan.
There is a weather change in the air and now clouds are coming rolling fast across the sky. I am getting closer to the area with the tree altars, and I see the landscape disappear into the mist together with my expectations. My mood is taking the toll for it.
In Sobaeksan, I managed to get my bearings back again and got a great experience by it. Now I am unable to do it and suffers from it. In frustration, I kick a rock, even though it is not the cause of my frustration. The disappointment of yet again missing out on walking in an open landscape is too big; I had been looking forward to this section of the trail as well. And in my current mindset, I am unable to see the mysterious beauty of the landscape wrapped in fog. Though I have just had a rest day, I am tired, more tired than I think I am.
The Hadan altar. The lower of the three altars in Taebaeksan Provincial Park. The trees are disappearing slowly into the sea of fog, something that lends an additional area of mystique to the place.
Small drops of rain are dancing in the fog, gnarled and contorted yew trees forms grotesque shapes in the limited field of view. I pass the summit of Busobong (1546m) before I myself disappears on a wrong path. After rewinding my steps, I am back on the right way. I arrive at the first altar, Hadan, shrouded in mist and mystique. The altar is just called the lower altar (Hadan), since the original name of the altar has got lost with time. Distant and broken voices disappears in the layer of clouds.
The Cheonjedan altar at the summit of Janggunbong.
From Hadan the trail continues up into the clouds towards Janggunbong and Cheonjedan on a wooden staircase. Cheonjedan, the heaven ceremony shrine, is an impressive altar at the summit of a mountain without a view. I am no longer alone in the mountain. Here it is a constant stream of hikers visiting the altar, both for looking at the shrine and for conducting small rituals. At Janggundan, the guardian general altar, there is a figure clad in a blue raincoat sitting bent over a ritual on the altar. Janggundan is the highest altar of them, located at 1567m. The exact age of these altars are not known, but the general saying is that they are from the old kingdom of Silla, thus more than 1000 years old.
A lonely figure praying at the Janggundan altar, the highest of the three altars.
Below Janggunbong with its altars is Manggyeongsa, one of the highest located temples of Korea. I had in mind to try to see if I could spend the night at the temple, so I walk down into the sea of fog to the sounds of maintenance from the buildings. The place is veiled in by the clouds, with sour winds through the pale shrouds. I ask a person at the temple if it is possible to stay the night. As an answer, I get one good and one bad news, there is no problem for me spending the night here, but there is a two hours walk down and up again to pay for the stay. I did not understand why I could not pay at the temple itself.
I choose to continue walking instead, a decision that I am going to regret bitterly for later. I might miss out on a unique experience, to stay at a temple here. On the other side, I know that I am tired, and that using additional strength now may not be that clever. So in the gusty weather I pass yet again Cheonjedan and Janggundan, and the trees that looks like they belongs in a ghost movie.
The temple of Manggyeongsa, one of the highest located temples in Korea.
After having walked down a little bit uncertain if I was on the right track, I come to a junction where there is a steep path going down to the Yuilsa-temple. I leave my backpack behind up at the junction and walk down to the nunnery, which lies nicely situated beneath a valley adorned by autumnal colours. The place seems desolate and abandoned; there is not a soul to see. Further on the Baekdudaegan, my mood is lifting a bit when I come down under the layers of clouds and can climb out onto some rocks and enjoy some views again. There is a thin stripe of quaint light capturing the mountains stretching into the horizon in some sort of a sunset.
The Manggyeongsa-temple fringed by the sea of clouds.
When I arrive at Hwabangjae, I am tired. At first, there is not an available room at the minbak of the Eopyeong Hyugeso. Nevertheless, when I am gesticulating that I am then considering going on and spend the night in my tent instead, they arrange a room for me in a magical way. How I do not know. I must have been looking tired and resigned, so I guess they figured out they had to fix something. I am grateful anyway.
A Korean yew tree on the path down towards Hwabangjae.
Then my day is falling apart, when I check on my (rented) cellular phone it turns out that Mr. Cho has been trying to call me eight times. When I call him, it turns out that he and his wife are at Manggyeongsa and are waiting for me. They have been driving all the way from Gimcheon to meet me and give me some clothes. If I only had known, I end the call with a very bad conscience. They will come here instead though.
The nunnery of Yuilsa.
I then eat dinner at the hyugeso, bibimbap that really tastes good now. Afterwards some workers at their office next to the restaurant invite me to more food (chicken and pajeon) and soju. Their English is not very good, but we tries to communicate the best we can. While I am eating with them, Mr. Cho and his wife arrives. Our second meeting is short, but very nice. They are in a good mood despite what has happened, before they drive the long way home again. I am left behind with loads of apples, a fleece jacket, a long johns of wool and my conscience still bad.
I give some of the apples to the workers at the office, who heartily accepts the offer. Then I return to my room, call home for some moral support and then goes to bed after nearly dosing off a couple of times. What a day!
A stripe of quaint light underneath a sea of clouds.
<- DoraegijaePijae ->
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