First Snow

My buddy Martin is having a small art exhibition in an insurance building by Daehangno ( 대학로 ). Daehangno isn't the only downtown area in Seoul, or even the best. It is, however, the college town-within-town with the most old money. Really old. The oldest university in the world is within walking distance. Although Martin didn't expect anyone who didn't know him to come, but we went out last weekend and blanketed Hongdae ( 홍대 ), one of the other university areas, with little cards for the thing. Noone came to this event, but it is nevertheless significant, because it is the reason I saw snow this weekend.

The reason it caused me to see snow this weekend is because it kept me off the mountains last weekend. Although my mountain addiction is nowhere near as severe as it once was, I still don't relish the thought of missing hikes on consecutive weekends.

So the plan for Saturday was simple. I'd go to Dobong Mountain ( 도봉산 ), my favorite hiking spot, in the morning so I'd have time to shower and change before Martin's show. It was a simple enough plan, until Martin texted me Friday afternoon, asking if I could go into town to help him pass out flyers around Daehangno. No worries though. I wouldn't be able to go to Dobong, but I will next weekend, and I could always just to to Surak Mountain ( 수락산 ). Surak's not as fun as Dobong, but it has always been a special place to me, and the way I always take up is so steep that it has steel cables as thick as ropes running alongside the path for much of the last thirty or fourty minutes up.

Even when I do sunrise hikes, having to get out of bed so early in the morning is the one part I never enjoy. I hastily packed my bag, and since it looked like it might rain, I decided to throw in my rainjacket. I thought it might be too cold to touch the ropes with my bare hands, but decided against packing a pair because my hands are pretty tough and I wasn't quite awake enough to want to have to think about one more thing. I still hadn't shaken off the chill of first waking up when I left home, and I was shivering in the cold while I was waiting for the bus. An hour later, halfway up the mountain, I was just beginning to shake off enough of the cold that I could unzip my jacket and feel the cool, damp fall air against my chest without freezing.

The trip up by the cables was fairly uneventful for the longest time. I stopped to take pictures every now and then, causing me to constantly pass, then be passed by the same group of Korean guys every time I stopped to take out my camera and snap a shot, one of whom was a bit soft and was clearly struggling a lot more than anyone else on the mountain. Then, I started seeing ice on the poles that hold the cables in place.

It wasn't long before I was seeing snow, some of it on the ropes. As cold as my hands were, I couldn't help but be proud of myself for having hands strong enough to support my weight in spite the numbing cold. I don't know if people whose families have lived in tropical countries would experience this, but everyone who's grown up with four seasons knows that when the first snow hits, it triggers an instinct. This instinct, when triggered, acts almost like an awakening. You suddenly become more alert, more aware of everything around you, and you experience a childlike curiosity. Age has no effect on this phenomenon. I've seen middle aged Koreans throwing snowballs at each other and erupting with laughter every time they throw, or are hit by, one. When you're somewhere away from civilization, it also triggers survival instincts. Your body automatically begins pumping out more heat, and you can almost feel a well of strength bursting out of your chest. You feel a sense of pride at having gone out into the wilderness, faced the elements, and conquered them. As I was going down from the summit, I ran into the group of guys. They had fallen behind when they stopped at a tent for a cup of milky rice wine. Even the whiny guy couldn't escape this sensation, and we exchanged a look of pride and camaraderie at having confronted the elements and proven we could still stand.