Palgongsan In The Spring

I met Mr. Nam at DongA at 9:30 this morning. Same bat time, same bat place. On our way to Palgongsan. As we were driving out of town, he said, “My friend. He come, too. Okay?” Given my experiences with random Korean men lately, I was a little hesitant. But this was one of Mr. Nam’s friends. And I trust Mr. Nam. I think. So we picked up his friend. Mr. Koo. Who, even though he is an English instructor (he helps students prepare for the TOEIC exam), speaks no English.

On the ride to the mountain, I said, “Do you think it will be snowing today?” Mr. Nam smirked (as if, you silly thing), “No.” But every other time we have been, the mountain has greeted us with snow. Even when it was sunny in Daegu. “Not today. Today, warm. The mountain will welcome you – fresh blossoms on the trees.” How can I not smile at that?

Sure enough, it was warm once we arrived to Palgongsan. The three of us started up the path. Mr. Nam and Mr. Koo had several exchanges in Korean. He turned to me, “How is your condition today?” Excuse me? What condition? “You. Your condition. Okay?” Oh, yes, I feel fine, thank you. “Okay. We take hard path. Okay?” Sure. Some more exchanges in Korean.

The hard path was just that. Hard. Straight up. And up. And up. Haven’t we reached the top yet? I could hear both men breathing heavily. I was, too, but trying to hide it. I’m stubborn. I won’t be the first to stop. They kept looking at me, saying, “Are you okay? How do you feel?” I would smile and say, oh, fine. Finally, Mr. Koo stopped at a beautiful scenic overlook. We sat on a huge rock and viewed the vast valley and mountainous ridges in front of us. Mr. Koo peeled a tangerine and offered it to me. Ahhh. The sweetness. The juiciness. It tasted like honey. Mr. Nam turned to me. “You must be professional.” What? What do you mean? “Professional mountain climber. Look. Me, Mr. Koo. Heavy breaths. Very hot. You. It is easy. You are strong. You look like flower.” No, it’s hard for me, too. Very hard. Can’t you hear me breathing behind you? “No. I think, you not teacher. You mountain climber.” And we laughed.

We continued upwards. For almost 2 hours. It was such a different Palgongsan from what I’ve experienced before. Warm. Dry. Musty. Birds chirping loudly. Animals scurrying to and fro. A small, winding footpath, barely wide enough for one. You could see the worn path, then it would disappear. Then reappear, far ahead. This was definitely a path not traveled much. On our journey up the mountain we saw only one other hiker. At one point, Mr. Nam said, “Come. With me. Mr. Koo will rest. I show you something.” Where are we going? “Somewhere no one knows about. Beautiful. Come.” We dodged tree branches, climbed over rocks, then, wowwwwwwww….. We were on a rocky ledge. We could see the entire mountain spread below us. The temples. The city. The ridges in the distance. Mr. Nam smiled. He was happy I was impressed. “Now, let’s go top.” He pointed to a huge rock and smiled. I laughed. He’s joking. He’s got to be joking. There’s no way I’m going to attempt to climb that. I will fall off and die. Sure enough, he started towards the rock. I dragged behind. “Coming?” I smiled. Maybe not today. Maybe we will climb the rock another day. “Okay. Next time.” Whew.

We reached the summit shortly after. Seo Bong. East Peak. We rested on the rocks and felt the wind cool us. [fast exchange in Korean] “Mr. Koo – very surprised – you to top.” Why? “Young Korean women, not strong. You, very strong. Only ajumaa (older Korean women) on mountain.” Why’s that? “Young Korean women, weak. Ajumaa. Very strong. Years of hard work. Children and housekeeping. Strong enough to climb mountains.” Interesting… But true. For all of the hiking I’ve done, I’ve never seen anyone my age (or younger) on the trails. When I’ve asked my Korean girlfriends to come hiking with me they only laugh.

Halfway down the mountain we stopped for lunch. Kimbop and fruit. Yummmmmm. Mr. Nam peeled an apple with his Swiss army knife, peeling the skin so that it curled in one long ribbon, dangling from the apple. Oooooo – you are so good at that! I exclaimed. “Me – professional peeler. You – professional climber. Mr. Koo – professional soju drinker.” And they laughed hysterically.

We reached the end of the hike. I was tired, but happy. Another great hike. We stopped at the outdoor snack stand/cafe near the parking lot. Mr. Koo went to buy cigarettes and came back with a can of something. “Yogi.” Here – and he handed me the can. I looked at it. Pocari Sweat. Yes, sweat. I thought I had misread it at first (sweet), but I hadn’t. Hmmmm. Who is Pocari? And why did he bottle his sweat? I popped the lid and started to drink. It was very, ummm, nutrasweety. Fake sweetness. But he was very happy I was drinking it, so I finished the can. Smiled, and offered Khamsa hamniddaaaaa.

In the car I could barely stay awake. The warm sun shining through the windows, the tired aching in my legs. I started to nod off and Mr. Nam said something to me. What? I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. “I worry about you. Tired?” Yes, the sun makes me sleepy. “You, sleep. Rest. Now.” Okay, I love anyone who lets me sleep in the car. It’s the best feeling. The lull of the motor, the warm sun magnified by the windows, the softness of the seats…

Half hour later we were in front of my apartment. “Monday? Hiking, again?” Sounds great! See you then! Annyong hee kay say-yo!