Chiaksan

Over the course of the Korean Chuseok holiday, I had originally planned on travelling to Russia and exploring all of the imperialist treasures therein in order to further inspire awe in a place unknown. However, this plan was forced into remission once I learned that attempting to get a flight even two months before the actual date of departure during this holiday season is only possible if you are wealthy enough to purchase your own plane or somehow bribe airline officials. Seoul population: over 10 million. International Airports: 1. Even with my limited mathematical abilities, I was able to forecast the difficulty involved with my intentions.

After spending some time wandering around Incheon and subsequently boarding the ferry to a nearby island, myself and travelling partner Tomek decided to employ the use of several modes of transportation and just see where we might end up. We toured the Gyonggi-do island for a spell, hopped on a bus, and slowly edged our way towards the airport. Once inside, we bought bus tickets to a place called Wonju, which is nestled among the Chiaksan mountains. One of the great things about Korea is that public transportation costs about as much as a fast food meal in Canada...unlike Japan, which costs about the price of a small car to take a taxi down the street.

The Chiaksan mountains themselves bear strong resemblance to the mountains in Seoraksan, save for the fact that there are many more trails and viable rock-climbing opportunities. Additionally, hardcore ajumas and ajashis (elderly women and men) rocket past you at quite a pace, breathing evenly and effortlessly as you curse the fact that you wore jeans and have the lung capacity of a small fish. Sweating profusely, we reached the summit of the first peak, a 4.6km journey. With this goal achieved, we made the decision to reach the summit of every peak, a ludicrous 10.2km journey.

After much effort and arduous trekking, the Chiaksan mountain expedition was complete. Once atop the final peak, we ate a Bohemian feast of rice cakes, beef jerky, and water bottled in the all-natural, ancient spring-fed slopes of...wherever. Then we waited until the sun set and began our descent in the dark. Taking an alternate route down meant there was lack of clarity as to what direction we were actually heading, coupled with the fact that skate shoes are absolute crap for traversing rocky slopes. Our descent lasted approximately three hours and covered more than 6km under cover of moonlight and soft braying of four-legged mammals. The incident of curiosity versus fatigue played itself out here in the adventive geography of Korea for the Caucasian Earth male aged 19-35. Subtle, yet powerfully visceral experiences such as this always seem to have a way of validating one's sense of restlessness.