The Beat January 2003

The hustle and bustle of Busan can sometimes get down even the most passionate urbanophile. Luckily, our town is surrounded by mountains full of trails, greenery, and fresh air.

One of these oases is Mt. Hwangnyeong, a short walk from Seomyeon. Mt. Hwangnyeong is easily accessed from any direction. I usually start up from the area between the Yangjeong and Bujeon subway stations. From here, just head in the general direction of the hill with the three telecommunications antennas crowning it. The largest of these somewhat resembles a Taepodong missile with plungers sticking out of its sides. The last structure up this way is Dong-Eui Technical College. In this area there are several little gardens growing various vegetables, chili peppers and persimmons.

Just before the trail starts to get steep, there is a little resting area surrounded by a wooden fence and guarded by a male and a female Totem Pole. This little park is usually empty, but once, a few months ago, there was a rocking party going on. Twenty or thirty senior citizens of both sexes were singing, dancing and getting wasted at ten in the morning. They were very jovial. “Halo! Halo! Hahaha!” They offered me some soju and squid, but I prefer to partake after noon.

This little park is also sometimes the hangout of the local pervert. On one sunny afternoon in November, he saluted me with a wave of his erect penis. I don‘t know who this guy is. Probably some unemployed idler. A few months ago he tried to kiss me on the bench press higher up the mountain. He knows I‘m not interested, but he still tries to persuade me every now and then. Women need not worry: this guy likes men.

From the park, paths branch off in all directions. It makes no difference which one you choose because they all lead to interesting places. Un-marked burial mounds of varying sizes flank the path. There are also some old bunkers standing as reminders of Korea‘s violent past. These are mainly used as trash pits these days. Chattering magpies accompany the hiker past bamboo groves, newly planted young pine trees and large rock formations. Indeed, the scene makes one want to rest under a tree and contemplate the chaos of the concrete jungle below.

About halfway up the mountain, there are little wind-sheltered areas with several badminton courts, outdoor gyms and springs supplying cool mountain drinking water. There are sit-up benches, bench presses, chin-up bars and huge Hula-hoops. There are also a few birdhouses without food.

Around the summit there are some pickup trucks and tents selling hot noodles and snacks for weary hikers. These are well supplied with dongdongju, makkoli, soju, beer and even water. There is also a parking lot for the lazy who came up by car. At night this is the place where young Korean couples come to make out. It‘s easy to tell the difference between those who drove up and those who hoofed it. The former are in suits and high heels, whereas the latter look like they‘ve just undertaken a major expedition: hiking boots, survival vests, walking sticks, magnetic compasses for the men and enormous sun visors for the women.

A short walk from the telecommunication antennas, at the peak, is the Mt. Hwangnyeong Beacon Stand. This is where cow dung used to be burned to alert the city of invaders. The restored beacons look like five barbecues. Although the location would be ideal for grilling burgers, they serve mainly these days as large ashtrays for puffing day-trippers. When the beacons were functional, one plume of smoke meant the situation was normal; two, the enemy was in sight; three, the enemy was approaching Busan‘s border areas; four, the enemy had infiltrated Korean territory; and five, run! The beacons stopped operations in 1898 and in their heyday could relay signals all the way to Seoul via other beacon points throughout the country. Now the summit serves as a peaceful place with spectacular views where visitors can fly kites, get drunk and go paragliding (but not necessarily in that order).
I generally follow the same series of trails every weekend. Many people wonder why I don‘t get bored. The fact is every trek has something new to offer. The change of seasons is one. Every week there seems to be a new flower in bloom. And I notice something different from the summit every time I gaze at the maze of concrete and traffic below. Sometimes visibility is so good that it is possible to see all the way to Gimhae, while at other times haze and smog obscure almost everything.

Another thing that any hiker in Korea will soon notice is that hiking is not hip. Young trendy folks don‘t hike. They are the ones making out at the summit in their cars at night. The only people you‘ll see on the trails, if any, are middle-aged couples or families. In warmer months, they often find a shady spot and spend most of the day engaging in that elusive Korean luxury: sleep.

Mt. Hwangnyeong is only one of the many peaks around Busan. It‘s not necessary to go far in order to find some nature relief. The Great Outdoors is right here in the heart of the city.