Craving a bit of peace and quiet and countryside after 3 weeks of Anyang’s unrelenting urbanism (see first post), on Sunday I strapped on my super Asolo hiking boots (thanks big sister!), packed a small backpack of provisions (waterproof, kiwi fruit, water), and walked uphill the half mile or so to the entrance of the mountain trail. The city’s relentless apartment blocks continued up the incline, eventually giving way to a path through fields of smallholdings growing chilli-peppers, yellow courgettes and hot-housed tomatoes, before these too gave way to pine forest.
The path was well-signposted and, despite the weather predicting thunderstorms, fairly busy with hikers. I’d read about how much Koreans are into hiking, and especially into hiking gear. So at first I was slightly amused by the layers of sweatproof, waterproof, neon clothing; the retractable trekking poles; the giant stuffed backpacks and GLOVES everywhere.
Moving uphill, the cover of the pine trees was occasionally left behind to reveal scenes like this, stunted pines jostling with young deciduous trees and low shrubs:
Soon it became apparent why so many people had so much gear. As it rose more steeply the path began to be broken up by rocky outcrops and groups of boulders.
Korea Change 
