Korea DAY 6: (Pt. 2) Seogwipo Forest of Healing

Read Part 1 HERE !

​Naturally, we swapped our hiking bags for small day packs upon our return. Any subsequent trip would be made by car after all.

During our momentary stay, I pried open one of the cases of Baumkuchen from O-Sulloc. The specimen adopted the form of a trapezoidal log, as opposed to the customarily circular presentation of Baumkuchen. Albeit fragrant, the orange rendition was absolutely artificial. It boasted sweet and moist properties with strong notes of honey, but was dry to taste and horribly crumbly.

​When we departed once again, it was observed that the hotel parking lot had returned to its deep slate hue. The overnight snowfall had gradually melted with the rising temperatures. The same could be observed on roads and shoulders, though fields and untouched areas remained beaming and bright.

​Driving along the rural roads again evoked recollections of GTA hikes. The sole discrepancy was the sheer uniformity of coniferous trees lining the path of travel and distant view of mountains. These elements were more commonly associated with West Coast hikes instead.

The built-in navigation system led us to the outer edge of Seogwipo Forest of Healing. It would appear that vehicles could not enter past the roundabout, thus we resorted to one of the many parallel parking spaces near the local bus shelter.

In a matter of moments, the skies suddenly darkened. We were faced with an incredulous blast of flurries.

Visibility was drastically impacted. The frequency of snowfall was truly unlike anything I had ever witnessed in my lifetime. Nearby, two middle-aged men strolled past. "Merry Christmas!" one remarked humourously.

​Hours of operation were posted outside the Forest. Winter months spanned November to March, while summer months April to October.

View the full album HERE !

Entering into a snowy scene where trees were verdant instead of barren made for an intriguing sensation. It was as if not even Mother Nature had anticipated the subzero-sparked precipitation.

​On the other side of the trail was a different world altogether. Sunny skies and dry grounds welcomed us at the Visitor Information Centre.

​In addition to a gift shop, benches for eating, and indoor plumbing facilities offering ice cold water for handwashing, we learned that the Seogwipo Forest of Healing indeed allow vehicular access past the roundabout. The abnormally narrow driveway was the only way of reaching the on-site parking area.

Food was not permitted within the boundaries of the forest. Consequently, we took to unwrapping our packed sandwiches and kimbap in the comfort of the administration office waiting area. Deceivingly sunny were the external conditions, for ungloved frigid digits did not lie.

​We then neared the ticketing booth for access to the Forest grounds. Admission was 1000 KRW per person, while parking ranged between 1000 to 3000 KRW. Given that we had not parked within the immediate lot, parking fees would not apply. "우리 걸어왔어요" I answered, meaning "We walked here." I sensed a mild bit of skepticism from the attendant, but it was, in fact, true.

"Does she even work here?" My browsing partner questioned the warning as soon as we were out of earshot.
I whipped my head around, somewhat stunned by the remark. It was somewhat possible that she did not, though I'd see no reason to advise visitors otherwise.

Bypassing the small village of "Healing Houses", we made our way towards the Healing Centre with vigor.

​Save a somewhat steep ascent over burlap and rock, the trail posed minimal difficulty and was admittedly brief. I suppose the burlap was to increase friction and prevent slippage during descent, but the material choice rapidly made the uphill hike steamier than desired.

​The area around the Healing Centre was paved and included a handful of office buildings. Washrooms were available outside the administrative areas, supplying ice cold water. Though unlabelled on the trail map, clean public bathrooms were distributed along the trails, giving peace of mind to those debating between dehydration and bladder wellness.

​Since we weren't totally convinced of the hazards of post-snowfall trails, my browsing partner and I agreed to undertake route 9. Frankly, none of the trails were particularly lengthy, with the combined distance of route 9 being just 2.1 km.

That said, the mix of snow and slush-covered leaves over an arduous ascent posed greater challenges - and safety hazards - than I would have thought.

Climbing uphill without knowledge of the ground conditions was a difficult task. My heart rate rose steadily, while my thighs began to grow warm. In consideration of my exercise frequency, I hadn't anticipated to feel so unfit. The starting stretch was a stark reminder of my identify as an avid Ontarian hiker; our home province barely offers differences in terrain.

​We didn't turn back, of course. The presence of other footprints also convinced us that the route was not closed at all.

A steep and sunny pathway led us to wooden observation deck, where snow had accumulated on the railings. Under the warmth of the sun, a few patches had begun to undertake the process of dissolution, transforming into patchy crystals before our eyes.

​Views from the desk were cloudy and obscure. Hovering for a few minutes enabled us to witness the transition from cloudy and overcast to somewhat bright with thick cloud clover.

​Descending from this point was, undoubtedly, the most tragic of all. Although I had previously griped about the non-uniform height and depth of stairs at N Seoul Tower, the seemingly endless stairwell down was a truly treacherous feat. Again, snow had camouflaged the precise limits of each step. There was no guarantee that my next move wouldn't result in slippage followed by a nasty fall. Being a heel striker, my balance was also threatened by the reduction in friction due to melting snow on slippery wood.

​Thankfully, a series of enamel-coasted rails had been affixed to the side. In spite of their obvious griminess, I hung on to the supports for dear life, placing one hand in front of another as I carefully made my way down.

Meanwhile, my browsing partner hopped down the stairs with ease.
"You should use your toe, not your heel, if you're afraid of slipping."
Although altering my gait may have improved overall stability, I defaulted to my usual steps under stress. Shaky inner thighs and sensitive knee caps further worsened my anxiety.

Alas, with patience and determination, I eventually arrived at the bottom of the stairs.

​As I announced my opinion that the stairs would have been better as an ascent, my browsing partner reasoned that the grade difference would likely be more dangerous without the presence of stairs. I thought about this momentarily, ultimately agreeing, as the continuous stretch would be lethal if frozen over.

​The remainder of the casual hike was relatively easy. Crossing over a waterway filled with fallen leaves, my eyes widened with awe at the contrast of running water and snowy surroundings. Typically, these elements would not be found in conjunction due to their respective temperature triggers.

​Continuing further, I suggested a detour from the path. At hitting an unexpected U-turn marker though, we were forced to turn back and assume the boardwalk from which we came.

​Instead of painted lines on tree trunks, the trail was identified with magenta ribbons that contrasted against the greenery and dampened branches.

​Similar to the Ara Dong Historic and Cultural Trail, encounters with fellow hikers were seldom, if not nonexistent. We passed two middle-aged men along route 9 and about two middle-aged ladies on the Nogorok Barrier-Free Forest Walkway. It wasn't until returning to the main pathway of route 1 that we saw a wider demographic of young adults and families. 

With a burning desire to undertake a different route back, I proposed the accessible boardwalk known was the Nogorok Barrier-Free Forest Walkway, not knowing that we'd be required to zigzag endlessly without any landscape variations of interest. The monotony was unbearable, but jumping off the platform to cut through wasn't an option either, as there was no confirmation we'd be headed in the right direction.

Suffice to say, the Forest of Healing hardly healed for our souls.

​Nevertheless, it was impressive that one singular forest had allowed me to experience three seasons over 10 km.

Furthermore, I was amazed at the sheer number of flourishing trees covered by 6 cm of snow. The comprehensive distribution of clean public bathrooms along the trail was not only unthinkable but deeply appreciated. I was also impressed to find not a shred of trash at all, which is probably owed to food being banned.

One final bathroom stop and gift shop browsing session later, we headed back to the car. Three and a half hours later, all signs of snow had magically vanished.

Read Part 3 HERE !