Koreans Head to the Mountains for Fall Colors and Fried Grasshoppers
Hikers in Seoraksan National Park, South Korea, form a line up the mountain trail.
Autumn is an especially busy season for Seoraksan National Park in Gangwon province, South Korea. In a year, the park sees 3 million visitors, as many as Yellowstone Park in the States. But each October, the steady stream of outdoor admirers swells to a torrent when fall colors light up the park’s jagged peaks.
Outside the front gate, the atmosphere is excited, almost carnivalesque. It would make an American think of Disneyland, except for the elderly women sitting along the queue selling steamed, starchy corn. Crowds bustle past a free wheelchair distributor at the entrance and spill into the park. There are Korean nationals and foreigners of all ages and descriptions: Korean aunts and grandmothers in distinguishing pink jumpers and visors yell to each other with their families in toe, “Bali wa! Hurry up!”; tour groups in all the latest outdoor trappings hotfoot it to the trails; a rastafarian foreign couple meander conspicuously through the stalls of wooden souvenirs and plastic toys lining the park side of the ticket gate.
Soon after the entrance, the park opens up into a courtyard populated with food carts and the occasional overpriced restaurant. On one side of the courtyard, a monolithic stone Buddha surveys the crowd. Naturally, I head straight to the carts to see what snacks they have. The first vendor sells roasted chestnuts, and I buy a bag. At another, I find wild mountain raspberry wine and fried grasshoppers. I’m curious. The woman behind the cart takes a moment away from hawking the wine to complement my broken Korean and pours me a sample of purple liquid from a large glass jar into a small plastic cup. Sipping on the wine, I decide to try the grasshoppers. They’re crunchy and slightly salty. To my surprise, they make a satisfying compliment to the wine, the chestnuts, and the brisk, healthy fall air. It’s a windy day and autumn colors are all around. Thanking the lady, I drift back into the stream of hikers making their way to the summit.
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Baekdamsa Buddhist temple, Seoraksan National Park
The trail up the mountain first snakes past a Buddhist temple, made famous when poet Han Yongun decided to take up a monastic life there. The millions of hikers who’ve come along the trail before me have polished the large stones on the path, giving them a smooth feel even through heavy hiking boots. I’m now making my way forward in a two-way stream of hikers running to the mountain top and trickling back down again to the parking lot outside the front gate. Many of the hikers have dressed as colorfully as the trees. Orange hiking packs and pink jumpers vie with red maple and yellow oak leaves for the eye’s attention. It’s not Into the Wild, but it’s not unpleasant either to be one of so many people who’ve come to enjoy nature.
Ulsan rock, Seoraksan National Park
At the other end of the long path is Ulsan rock, a two kilometer-long ridge of naked, gray stone jutting nearly a kilometer into the sky from the park’s floor. Local folklore has it that the Creator of the Universe called the great rocks of the world together to make Mt. Geumgang, or Diamond Mountain, which neighbors Seoraksan in present-day North Korea. The mountain is said to be the most beautiful mountain under the sun, and rocks from all over came to be a part of it. Ulsan rock as well lifted his massive bulk and, standing up, lumbered to the site. But his great weight made travel slow and he arrived too late to find a spot on the mountain. Wearily, he decided to lay down by Mt. Seorak, which he liked for its pretty view. He’s been there ever since.
Eventually, I make it to the blustery top of Ulsan rock’s slumbering body. Along the ridge, I meet Kang Seok-jae, another visitor to the park. When asked about his interest in Seoraksan Park, Mr. Kang smiles.
“I’ve been here three times now,” he says. “This time, I came with friends, but they’re all at the bottom drinking Makgeolli.” Also known as takju, makgeolli is a traditional, milky Korean rice wine known for causing painful hangovers. Mr. Kang laughs, “I ran up here to the top instead.”
The path to Ulsan rock, Seoraksan National Park
Like Mr. Kang, many people come to the park again and again in different seasons. I’m curious to learn more about the park and its visitors. Down at the park’s entrance, I talk with Kim Pyeong-hwa, who works in the visitor center. She jots down some numbers. Visitors were up from 2,677,330 in 2006 to around 3 million last year. Between her English and my Korean, I understand that the changing seasons are a big draw to the park and that yesterday brought the first snows to the higher summits. Then, she takes me to an exhibit representing the park’s wildlife.
“In 1970, Seoraksan became a national park,” says Miss Kim. “In 1982, UNESCO made the park a biosphere reserve.” She points to a group of wooden animal statues, noting which are common and which are rare. Squirrels, of course, rank among the most plentiful mammals in the park.
Miss Kim chuckles. “The striped squirrels are sometimes called ‘Miss Korea’ since they’re so pretty,” she says, and then turns more solemn. “There are many of them and also many wild boars. But of otters and antelope there are only a few. There are no more tigers or wolves. We don’t know if there are any bears, but we’re investigating.”
We walk to another corner of the room, which displays the rusty, saw-toothed jaws of an iron leg trap. Even with so many annual admirers of the park’s flora and fauna, illegal trapping and lumber harvesting occurs, though Miss Kim assures me that it’s a problem caused by only a very few people. The main victims of these grisly-looking traps are long-tailed goral, a type of mountain antelope indigenous to Korea and the tips of China and Russia. The IUCN Red List of Threatened Species lists the long-tailed goral as vulnerable and decreasing in population.
“There are 700 goral left in Korea,” says Miss Kim as we walk past the trap. “200 of them are in Seoraksan Park. A few people poach them for their fur and meat.”
Long-tailed goral, image credit Robert Lawton via Wikimedia, under a GNU Free Documentation License
The park is also home to several other protected species, including Siberian musk deer and two species of woodpecker.
In its role as a biosphere reserve and a national park, Seoraksan Park offers environmental education programs and other measures aimed at protecting the nearly two thousand animal species that live in the park. The park service also manages hiking trails to allow restoration of vegetation and to prevent damage to some of its ecosystems, including a mountain swamp.
The millions of visitors to the park can also be seen as an opportunity to inspire conservation ethics and an appreciation of Korea’s natural heritage. Reflecting these values, a monument at the top of the park’s highest mountain displays a poem, “Yosan Yosu” (love nature).
I, for one, left Seoraksan National Park with a better understanding of Korea’s protected species and a healthier admiration of Korea’s dramatic natural beauty. I also left with two bottles of wild raspberry wind and a paper cup full of fried grasshoppers.
Good to read this post!
Ive been Mt Seoraksan before. Yes it’s very impressive mountain which offers chance to feel mother nature.
There are so many tour site like Seoraksan. Have you ever been to Jeju island? There are the highest mountain in South Korea, hallasan. I’ve been there on time, but I still want someday to visit there again! If you have chance to travel Korea, you shouldn’t miss it.