It is 4AM, you find yourself standing on the corner of a city street with a guy in spandex, a visor with a protrusion of blond fro exploding from it, and a headlamp. What the heck is going on? you ask yourself. Did I just come from a rave? Did I just break out of a mental hospital and this is my cohort? And then a sip of coffee brings you back: Oh, yeah, I'm going trail running with Robb!
|Robb, looking ... tight!|
The reason for the early start was two fold: first, we would finish before noon and have the rest of the day for family and "major errands"; or, in my case, a long nap, and scarfing a plate of nachos while parading around in my apartment in compression gear (the stuff works!). The second reason was to beat the heat, and thus, require less hydration. These spring days are starting to warm up considerably and the signature mugginess of the Korean summer is starting to emerge. There is, as far as we know, no water or springs on this track without a significant detour and backtrack, so we both set off with the two liters in our Nathan packs and a handheld water bottle. This proved sufficient-- I finished my water right in the middle of the last climb, and nothing was left but a fast descent to the joys of the 편의점 (convenience store). Conserving water can be a bit tricky, especially when hydration is absolutely crucial to get tired legs up and down climbs safely, but the more time I spend out there the better I become at knowing what I can get by on.
We started slowly up the first section of the day, a climb up GeumByeong-san. To get there, we had to weave through winding farm roads, our headlamps bouncing reflections off the submerged rice paddies and the glowing eyes of growling 진돗개 (Korean breed of hunting dog and protectorate of farms). Robb had to deuce, so I continued up through this enchanted grove of trees alone, turned off the headlamp, and felt the forest come alive with birds and little critters stirring up the dawn. It's reassuring knowing that you get to trade a few hours of sleep for this! The trail, in typical Korean fashion, started to shoot straight up the mountain, and we were digging in and climbing. We reached a ridge soon enough, and started running the rollers, still climbing towards the top. The azaleas were everywhere, and Robb noted the strong smell of honey in the forest. We passed by a tent, nestled in a sweet little spot of the trail, and then a small tent village near the peak (금병산 630m). These folks had the right idea. The could sleep and enjoy the honey-smelling forest simultaneously. We snapped some quick photos and began our descent, and it wasn't even 6 o'clock!
Our next section takes us over our familiar 수리봉 (Soori Peak) and 대령산 (Daeryeong-san), and we climb up through the forest, rolling over lesser peaks that offer picturesque views of Chuncheon in the morning. We reach Daeryeong-san, and it is only 8 o'clock. It is one of the more popular peaks in Chuncheon, and there was no one there. We became very self-congratulatory at how bad ass we think we are, but moments later as we began our descent we passed an elderly couple, smiling as they climb a steeper section of the trail towards the peak. Yep. Gotta love Korea. We make our way down, get to Myeong-bong and hang a right to go to Neuratchae, where we hit some great rolling but runnable sections of trail. At about 23km in, I start to feel the telltale signs of a bonk coming on- dizziness, wobbly legs, a strong desire to stare at the moving patterns on the ground; so as soon as we hit the connecting fire road at the top of 느랏재 (Neuratchae), we scarfed down our peanut butter sandwiches and I threw down a Gu for good measure.
|Spring has come to the mountains!|
|Robb speeding along the quick single-track.|
We get to our last section of trail, an 8.3 km section that should easily follow a ridge down to Soyang Dam, and we think we can make pretty good time if we can get some good running in. But about 2km into this, we get lost (you can see a long line jutting out on the Strava track), and of course the section where we get lost takes us down, and down, until we realize we have to turn around and climb back up to find the track again. Pretty demoralizing and energy-sapping. But it gave birth to a great maxim from Robb: "If the trail looks shite, it ain't right!" We got back on the trail and made our way through some beautiful, lush green sections of forest, much of it runnable but sprinkled with some leg-murdering steep climbs, quite a few which stopped me in my tracks, and with hands on my knees I again and again took to my intricate study of the forest floor. A study in dirt, if you will. Soon, again, we are heading down, down, and the trail starts to take on a more "shitely" veneer. I bring this to Robb's attention, and again we backtrack, up, of course, and find the trail, a little more deflated. Then we descend some really steep stuff through a particularly lush section with lots of ferns popping up out of black soil. That levels off, and then we see another peak in the distance, and as Robb told me we have to climb it, my heart started to sink. I have an pervasive tendency to go negative in the face of adversity, and the trail is a place where I can see this firsthand and actively work through it. I reminded myself of the absolute blessing that God gives of nature and health, and the gift that we have to play and enjoy it. And, to boot, I still had power in my legs, something I forget when I go into complaining mode. Robb always provides a positive model, as well, because the more suffering there is, the more he relishes it. So, I ate my final Clif Bar, sucked down my water, and actually started to move up the mountain, Robb being an uncatchable rabbit (jackrabbit) to chase, and before you know it, we are at the top peering down on the reservoir of Soyang Dam.
|Soyang Dam, here we come!|
This song came to mind and we started belting out the few lyrics we both knew. We make the final descent, hit the pavement where we try and stretch out our legs with a pretty good pace, and find ourselves in "civilization". I joke to Robb about what the Saturday, Soyang Dam crowd must think of the likes of us. Having no idea what we had just been through, I'm sure we looked like we hadn't made very good life decisions, like we don't have it together very well, and we freaking stink! And perhaps they are right on all counts, but none of that matters as we clink our cans of Pilsner Urquells and grins spread wide across greasy, salty, sweat stained faces. Great run, dude!