Solo in Jeju Again – Hallasan

created: 2022.02.13. 15:43 · modified: 2022.02.18. 14:28 ·  · license

This post was automatically translated and has not yet been reviewed by me. Please read with discretion.

Continued from Solo in Jeju Again – The Main Story.

I'm a P to begin with, but I become even more of one when I travel. I decided to take this trip three days before leaving, and didn't start looking into accommodations, transportation, and everything else until the day before. To be fair, I'd done the same thing on my last bike trip around the island without any problems, so I wasn't worried. But wouldn't you know it: there were no spots left in the Hallasan hiking reservation system. With a daily limit of 1,500 people, I never thought it would fill up. Apparently more people like mountains than I'd realized.

I poked around for a few minutes, but there was no sign of a spot opening up. After a moment of wondering what to do... I ended up writing a macro. It repeatedly sent POST requests to retrieve the capacity and number of applicants. I'm a bit of a scaredy-cat, so I made sure it wouldn't put too much strain on the server. Whenever I felt like it, I'd run it once through every date–time–trail combination in my schedule, then let it stop. I also put a 0.5-second gap between requests.

And it worked! Before long, I found an open spot and snapped it up. I ran the macro a few more times in hopes of getting a better date or trail. From what I saw, cancellations seemed fairly common—the spots just filled up again in the blink of an eye.

With my spot secured, the trip was on, and before I knew it, hiking day had arrived. Here's what I packed:

• Polyester T-shirt - hiking jacket - hiking windbreaker - lightweight puffer jacket
• Knee braces - Heattech leggings - hiking pants
• Hiking socks - hiking boots
• Crampons, trekking poles, gloves, sunglasses, hiking backpack, stick-on heat packs
• Long energy bars × 4, bite-size ones × 8
• 500 ml bottles of water × 4

I'm not a regular hiker, so I borrowed a lot of things from my dad. I rented the snow-mountain gear from a local shop, and some things were given to me by the older guys staying at the guesthouse the night before. Not that I'd asked them for anything... There were three middle-aged men in my room, and when I first arrived we just exchanged quick hellos. But as soon as I started packing, all eyes turned to me. It began with simple questions like, “Going up Hallasan tomorrow?” and “Did you make a reservation?” Then it became, “Have you packed this and that?” and “You'll be in trouble if you wear a cotton T-shirt underneath—it'll get soaked with sweat.” Eventually, we unpacked everything I'd already packed and started over together. When they gave me the T-shirt and energy bars, it felt less like “These might come in handy” and more like “You'll be in serious trouble without these.”

They also gave me loads of advice about the hike—too much to list here without getting boring. Most of it was incredibly helpful, but some of it wasn't quite right. So throughout this post, I'll be testing their advice and marking it True or False. Surprise Mystery TV

The first piece of advice was...

• Your entry time doesn't matter! Sprint up like a ninja the moment the clock strikes six and claim your photo with the summit marker.

My entry time in the reservation system was 8 a.m., but according to the guys, only the date mattered. Besides, if you arrived late, you'd face a long line for a photo in front of the summit marker, so getting to the top before everyone else was crucial. I found it strange that this wouldn't be a problem when they clearly scanned your QR code, but all three of them agreed... So I took their word for it and left the guesthouse at 5 a.m. It was before the first bus, so I paid a whopping 18,000 won for a taxi and reached the entrance to the Seongpanak Trail at 5:55.

I got in line, and then it was my turn. I zoomed in on the QR code before showing it to the attendant—5% so it would scan properly, 95% to hide the entry time printed underneath. But the attendant promptly asked to see my entry time and turned me away with, “Come back at 7:50.”

I'd had my doubts, but still... I ended up waiting at the information center for about two hours. So the very first piece of advice was False!

While wondering how to pass the time, I remembered that <Love and Leashes> was coming out on Netflix that day, so I opened the app. It wasn't available yet. Turns out the release time was based on Pacific Standard Time. Two disappointments before the morning was even over—not a great start.

Still, time flew by while I watched YouTube. I gathered myself, and now it was time to actually set off!

I still wasn't sure whether I wanted to wait ages for a photo with the summit marker. But if I did, I figured new hikers would arrive faster than people finished taking their photos and left ( ṁ_in > ṁ_out  haha... ), so I headed up quickly for now.

• The cold drains your phone battery fast. If you want to take photos at the summit, turn your phone off as soon as you start hiking.

That was another piece of advice. So I didn't take any photos on the way up and focused solely on walking. The first time I switched my phone on and took a picture was in front of the Jindallaebat Shelter, about two-thirds of the way up.

After that, I left my phone on and took plenty of photos, and I still had 51% battery when I finished descending. Mine is an iPhone 13 mini, and I'd even watched YouTube earlier, so I'd say battery life isn't much of a problem with modern phones. I did take the basic precautions of turning on Low Power Mode and keeping it in my pocket with a heat pack, though, so I'll give this advice a Half true, half false.

I kept taking my windbreaker and lightweight puffer jacket on and off as I climbed, but I still worked up a bit of a sweat. Their warning never to wear a cotton T-shirt underneath: True! I'd probably have had a rough time in one. Thanks for lending me the polyester athletic shirt.

After three hours of hiking, I finally made it to the top. I'd originally thought I'd skip the summit-marker photo if the wait was long, but once I got there, I couldn't resist.

Standing still in the wind while I waited got a little cold. I'd also dressed a bit lighter than planned on the guys' advice; a few more layers would have been ideal.

And there was Baengnokdam spread out before me. It was beautiful. Covered entirely in snow, it was hard to grasp its size at first, but the trees down at the lowest part gave me some sense of scale.
I had two thoughts: I should come back in summer to see it covered in greenery, and it would be fun to build a house and live in the middle of it.

Lots of people were eating cup noodles, both at Jindallaebat Shelter and up here. You'd have to bring a heavy thermos to make them, so I doubt I'd bring any next time either, but I was a little jealous that they had a proper meal. The guys had said I'd be fine without one if I ate my energy bars regularly along the way, so I hadn't packed a meal. But I felt hollow with hunger right up until the moment I ate duruchigi after coming down, and it was tough. Unfortunately, that advice was False! I did gratefully eat the Hot Break bars they gave me, though.

Time to head back down. For the descent, I took the Gwaneumsa Trail instead of Seongpanak.

Yongjingak Shelter. Apparently, the substantial building that once stood here was swept away without a trace by a flash flood caused by a typhoon in 2007.
On the flat ground left behind, a group of foreigners was building a snowman. His name was Snowden the Third.

The conifer forest at the lower elevations was beautiful, too.

4:15 p.m.—finally done! The Gwaneumsa Trail is so steep that I had to descend carefully to protect my knees, and I practically crawled over the hard-packed snow. The descent took about as long as the climb.
Waiting two hours at the entrance made for a rocky start, but I climbed the highest mountain of my life and made it back without getting hurt. Very satisfied!