Saturday, after a morning spent superficially studying with an undeserved hangover, I left Gumi with a group of climbers I go to the gym with. It took three hours to get to Seonoonsan, a provincial park in Jeolla province on the west side of the country. We arrived, set up camp and immmediately set in on dinner. Those who'd left the day before returned from the rocks just as Junsu arrived with the makkoli. Yum, camping with rice wine, fatty fried pork, some pig intestine soup--nothing says living like such a situation. There was even a kind man in a truck, patrolling the area keeping us safe by keeping the local mosquito population in check. You could hear his truck coming, the motor pumping out an impenetrable cloud of poison that trailed behind. In case any of the winged pests might have lived past his first pass--they did--he circled around a couple of times.

After that, the mosquitoes seemed to want revenge. A perimeter of mosquito coils, citronella patches on our clothes and numerous baths of repellent hardly deterred them. Hakseok and Junsu's use of epeu killa, something that looked terribly noxiousm, prompted jokes about epeu killa showers and the like. Hakseok slept outside in a bivy prone to the whims of the beasts. In the morning I left my tent to find him sleeping with the aerosol can of bug spray under his head. His feet took the brunt of the damage, with over ten bites below the ankles.

The older members of the group said it was time to go to bed around 1130, no more drinking, because we had to get up at 6 to eat breakfast and get on the trail. Not tired, I assented. There was no booze or water left to drink.

Atypical of me, I woke at 530, unable to sleep longer and feeling ready. The rest were rather hung, actually trying to stay in the tents was they were struck. A breakfast of rice and we were on trail.



We took the back way into the park, using a right of way on an old couple's green tea farm to avoid paying the entrance fee. I like these guys more and more.

We stopped by a lake before the final km to the rocks.

In the back from left to right: Mike, the only other foreign climber in Gumi, JeongSun, and Hakseok In the front: Bongjun, me, Minho, Jun, and Jaehan. Junsu took the picture.



Mike showing impeccable sartorial sense as he makes his first ascent of the day. Jeongsun kept pointing at him and saying fashion, and giggling. I couldn't tell whether or not this was a good thing.

Bongjun was too hungover for most of the day to climb; he spent most of the time belaying, sleeping or grimmacing.



Mike displays his lack of camera skills, thereby minimizing the visibility of my lack of climbing skills. Can you see it?




Mike starts off "Zoo," my first attempted 5.12a. We both made it a little more than halfway to a tough move where you look up only see more rock above your head. Did wonders to destroy the roll I was on.


Me just starting out Zoo.




Hakseok, a far better climber, just below halfway on Zoo. He got just below the final bolt



and fell. He had drunkenly told me the night before that it was his project for the day.




Gladiator's Helmet Rock, above the other faces, had a bunch of routes too difficult for most of the climbers there, so it was nice and peaceful with only the droning of the cicadas.

Down below, the Konglish cheer fighting! was too prevalent for peace. When I explained I had never heard it in the States, they were a little surprised. I suggested a more authentically American cheer. For the next hour a barely recognizable "gitterdone!" prevailed.

Breaking News!

Walking through Lotte Mart one recent night, this radioactive-looking bottle caught my eye.

Green bottles--usually reminiscent of skunked beer from far away lands--usually hook me. Stella, Pilsner Urquell, Heineken, St Pauli Girl--all get an enthusiastic open gullet.

Here in Korea Exfeel comes in a green bottle, though it's of a different league entirely. For one, it's degree of quality comes from not being as bad as its parent company--infamously known as "The (s)Hite." Exfeel is usually sold in individual 12 OZ bottles costing from 1000 won to 1700 won in stores and marts. A six pack is exactly that, (? won) X 6. One of the main selling points to this beer is its witty slogan: "Excellent feeling of the genuine sense of low caloried beer with twist off cap first in Korea."

It gets me every time.

So you can well imagine our excitement at the radioactive green bottles crowding a prominent display.



Traci doing two of her favorite things, reading and drinking beer.

What would make beer better? someone recently asked. The answer:

FIBER! Not only is this beer stylish, but it is chock full of bowelmoving fiber. In drinking circles, we call that a bonus.

Unfortunately, all of the fiber and style couldn't remove the Shite from its ancestry. It tasted like normal Korean beer from a 1.6 liter plastic bottle--bad. But it is summer, and hot, and humid, and the beer was cold. I can't be too picky in such conditions.

Maisan Ride

Yesterday--a day without rain and work, Will and I met halfway between Nonsan and Gumi in Yeongdong. Or, were supposed to at least. I underestimated the speed of my esteemable steed and arrived at 1030, 30 minutes ahead of time. Around 11 I got a call from Will saying he got lost--it's not a normal ride if you don't get lost or nearly die here--and to meet him in Geumsan another 30 minutes down a beautiful windy road.

After a lunch of snails and beef we hit the road, whipping through curves, passing the Sunday drivers (mistakenly out on Saturday) and hitting the straightaways with a cacophonous blare. I still win with respects to sound, though I can't keep up when the curves dwindle.

We rode south to Maisan, mountains that Jason told me are called the horse ear mountains. Two pinnacles towering over the surrounding terrain, seemingly quite different. "It's like someone took a big dump here," Will eloquently stated.

The rock consisted of pebbles and other stones cemented together, almost like it was man made.

We paid our parking fees and our entrance fees and hiked up a bunch of sweaty stairs to this cave where Will decided to be a poser and pose for this shot. Supposedly there is some unsolved mystery with the water that is drawn from a spring in this cave.


We saw no mystery and walked back down to the saddle between the two peaks where we saw this:

Here we saw mystery and suspense, danger and thrills. All the elements of a tragic Korea Times article about two naive foreigners falling to their deaths from a cliff in a southern province. We also saw three men with climbing equipment come down through this blockade. We had 1/3 bottle of lukewarm water and some quickly rotting plums and figured we too were sufficiently equipped. Besides, this guffawing horse encouraged us.


After a short set of metal stairs and badly washed out trail we came to the crux:

A few hundred meters of vertical ascent, hauling ourselves up on ropes such as these. Will's big bike couldn't help his weak body here; I dusted him on the ascent using my superiour climbing ability.

Here, he pauses to take in the view


of the neighboring spire to east.


About halfway up the rope section we found a shirtless man at the top of a small cable car setup. Despite the fact we were where we shouldn't have been, he welcomed us with a friendly 어서오십시오! He still looked serious, making me think better of asking him what he was doing.


It seemed to me that he was hauling his these sand bags filled with a grass seed mixture up the mountain in stages. Every few minutes another load would come up. He would yell once, the cable stop and yell again for the cable to resume. He stacked what arrived at the bottom of the next stage.

Lower on the mountain, the grass was bushier, more lush.


The cairn at the peak, both of us dripping sweat. 676 meters, most of it in 25 minutes.


Beyond this rope, as this signs states, there was a significant amount of anger.


Braving the anger, and the ants, we crossed the line to take this mediocre photo of the other pinnacle. To the right the anger increased precipitously. We thought better of going any further.


A flower we found inpiring:


Though not nearly as inspiring this this old yangban. Will is pretending he is hopped up on ginseng too.



Close up of the man whose climbed the top of my most wanted to meet list.



We rode more, welcoming the cool breeze after such exertion in the sun. We found a rocky valley, a steep stream running through it that would have been real nice had we found it earlier equipped with bathing suits and beers. There were crowds of Koreans of all ages camped out on the rocky banks. Some throwing balls around, others grilling pork products, and one guy doing backflips off a rock. Alas we had some distance to go, still hoping not to get caught in a sudden downpour.

We sat overlooking this lake as the sun burned our skin on its downward path. Then the ride back to Geumsan and Will going west, me east.