Sunrise Hike at Gwanaksan Park

Michele and I decided Friday morning that a midnight hike for that night sounded like a wonderful idea. Hiking at night is the only way to hike in weather this hot and unbearable and, probably more appealing, I had never done a hike like this before. We met up with the guy organizing it at midnight and were surprised/dismayed to see that there were 36 people on this hike. I can be social when I want to, but I have to really want to. And that night, with bright flashlights and headgear blinding me whenever somebody turned to talk, I really didn't want to.

After about an hour of hiking as a group, Michele and I split off from the rest and as soon as we were alone, we started to actually enjoy ourselves. Silence reigned. Our eyes adjusted sans the lights. We climbed over rocks. We gossiped. We chatted. We plugged ourselves into ipods and talked about music. We stared at actual stars. Sometimes we wandered away from one another to just sit in silence and stare at the massive, metropolitan, monster stretched out beneath us. I'm pretty sure my body provided Thanksgiving-style meals to entire colonies of mosquitoes. Whenever our position got awkward or painful we wandered on. If either of us said something that reminded Michele of a song she would start singing. I got a little slap happy and started giggling hysterically over a Beauty and the Beast reference. Neither of us had ever even been to Gwanaksan before, so wandering aimlessly between the hours of 1AM and 4AM may not have been an idea supported by much logic but since I am sitting here (on my newly repaired computer! which it didn't cost me a cent to fix!) typing this entry I suppose it all ended well.

The hike was slow going since we chose not to use the flashlight in favor of allowing our eyes the chance to adjust. We came across a few other hikers but since it was so dark and we couldn't even tell if we to greet them in Korean or English, we all stared suspiciously at one another, tense, until one or the other continued on their way. It's strange how unfriendly we become in the night. Eventually we found a perfect rock to perch ourselves on and wait for the sunrise. I guess I shouldn't puff myself up too much for I did spook a couple times. The only wildlife that seems to exist in Seoul are insects and stray cats and though I have a fat, clawing, domesticated cat waiting at home, I am truly scared of these strays. They're just such determined little creatures. Who would not think twice about screaming and clawing your eyes out. Or so I believed last night. And being sleep deprived in the middle of a national park watching them edge too close for comfort I may have shone myself to be less than sensible. In an honestly fear-for-my-life moment, I took the tuna gimbap from my bag- which I was convinced was drawing them so close- and threw it as far as I could into the woods. And just to be sure, I also threw my peanut butter and honey sandwich. I'm very sorry about the littering. It was not done with a light heart. Around 5 the sky started to really lighten and-in what seemed like only a few minutes- all the darkness started to evaporate and suddenly I didn't have to toe and feel my way around because I could make out my surroundings. While I had been convinced that Michele and I had wandered off the trail, a clearly worn path existed beneath our rocks. We weren't nearly as hard core as I felt we were at 3:30 in the morning. That's the thing I love about sunrises. One minute it's dark and perilous and stray cats are as threatening as mountain lions. The next it's light and without adrenaline keeping you hyperalert you realize how safe you actually are. And it happens so quickly you aren't even aware of the change.

We started wandering down at 6. It didn't take too long, but we definitely were on a path that we were not supposed to be on, as proven by the several signs we came across with big red x's pointing down to the trail we eventually ended up on. My second freak out moment of the hike came when I broke through an enormous spider web and started jumping and shrieking, convinced the humongous brown thing on my knee was the live spider. It wasn't. Michele remained cool and calm but I think she was convinced I was not going to get off the mountain without a few broken bones. We came out onto an indoor soccer field from Seoul National University. Thankfully it was early and the only people who stared confusedly at us were the men who were just returning from their Soju driven nights. They couldn't trust anything their senses relayed to them. And at that point in the morning. Neither could we. We were hoping for a big, western style breakfast in the morning but nothing in Korea is open at 7AM. Not even Krispy Kremes or Starbucks. So we went our separate ways, feeling intoxicated with lack of sleep. I left my apartment at 1 to go and buy an assortment of popsicles. Which have sustained me all day. And are delicious.