We were super excited about everything we’d heard and seen of this one: Hwangseoksan (황석산) features a very rocky summit and beautiful old fortress walls. But, we were a little nervous because the whole mountain was supposed to be closed for fire prevention season. We decided to just check it out and remain flexible.
Well. Did we ever need to be flexible, because what we found on Hwangseoksan surprised us a lot! Leaving the river valley, we proceeded on a paved road that gave way to dirt on densely forested mountain slopes. The trail did not appear to be closed, but it became progressively steeper and more covered in leaves, until we had to really look for hiking club ribbons to know if it was the right way. Soon, even these appeared fewer and further between.
We were pretty sure we’d lost the way when the trail began to climb almost vertically in front of us. I couldn’t be sure if the white fluttering in the distance was a ribbon or not…so we went for it! It was a very challenging climb that, at the time, I regarded as pretty sketchy. We came to regret leaving our trekking poles behind for this ‘short run’.
In fact, this side of Hwangseoksan was so steep and slippery, with leaves and rocks and loose dirt constantly sliding away underfoot, that neither of us could ascend upright. I clung to tree trunks and sometimes stood on my knees or dug my fingers into the dirt. Kent struggled similarly, despite his better balance.
When we reached a short, flat section on a ridge, we were shocked by the sight of a Korean couple having a coffee break (we did not see them again, and wondered if they’d either given up and turned around or taken some much smarter route that remained invisible to us).
We continued our ascent of Hwangseoksan, over a short flat section and then immediately into more scrambles. Kent and I both felt relieved to reach the main ridge, where there was a broader, more trodden trail. We could at last stand upright and move at a reasonable pace without fear of sliding back down the mountain!
As we ran towards the rocky summit we could see ahead, we passed a sign for the correct way up/down – and took note! I thought we could return there if the ridge trail was in fact closed or if we thought we’d run out of time for a loop.
Our scary scramble had morphed into a lovely trail run, and we were now thoroughly enjoying Hwangseoksan! With the spiky spires of the summit in our sights, we charged forward along the undulating ridge. We could see some of the fortress wall, and I was reminded so much of our exhilarating but unrepeatable Great Wall excursion in China in 2017.
We crossed through the imposing gate of the fortress and rounded a rocky corner. There was a steep set of stairs to climb, but then we were suddenly on the summit!
This was one of the most memorable and dramatic summits of our whole mission. The stele was actually a plaque set in the triangular face of a huge rock: one of many massive boulders making up the vertigo-inducing summit. There were plunging drop-offs to every side, and the rocks on top were all jagged edges. It was thrilling just to stand up there, let alone maneuver into position for pictures. What a great reward for the tough and sometimes harrowing climb!
I felt proud of our strong effort, and happy to gain a bit more experience at this level of exposure. We spent a long time at this summit, remarkably alone, trying in vain to capture the incredible views of Hwangseoksan.
I followed Kent as he led the way down in a northerly direction, climbing over the boulders. But it wasn’t long before I got uncomfortable. There was no trail and where to go was anything but obvious. We were constantly questioning our every step. The options featured narrow ledges above plummeting drops and tricky traverses around boulders.
Then we reached a section with ropes. So we were on a trail, of sorts! But these old, tattered and fraying ropes did not look like they could support our weight. Kent tested one, and I watched as he took a real leap of faith at the end. He offered to help me down as he stood braced on a boulder at a 45 degree angle. I was unsure about making the jump safely and I didn’t want to put Kent in danger if I failed.
I felt like a chasm opened up in time as I stood there eyeing my options. Risky descents are not my strong suit. There was nothing to arrest our fall if either of us stumbled. There was really and truly no room for error. We decided to climb back up the way we’d come.
But we were determined to press on with the ridge, so back near Hwangseoksan’s summit, we opted for a simpler trail through the forest. High on the wall, we peeked over the edge at another plunging drop-off. It was sometimes slow-going, but we were definitely on a trail.
At the next peak, however, the trail was roped off and signs told us to go around. We began to descend. It was a slippery, eroded route on barely visible trail: much like our route up Hwangseoksan! After several slip-ups, I simply sat down in the dirt.
The whisper of a trail appeared to go nowhere but down – we couldn’t make out where it might meet back up with the ridge. At our current snail’s pace, we were going to run out of daylight just going down the wrong side of the mountain on this detour.
Turning around wasn’t an easy decision. In all honesty, I was incredibly frustrated! I was annoyed with myself for not toughing it out better, annoyed with coming up short on our long run, and annoyed by the state of the trails. My mood and mindset were rather poor as we retraced our steps back to Hwangseoksan’s ridge.
My spirits lifted as we gained altitude. I appreciated the jagged ridge and Hwangseoksan’s scenic summit all over again. The going was great…until we started to descend again.
We found the correct way down, only to discover that it was nearly as rough as the way up. The singletrack had eroded away so that every step we needed to take was at an angle, and we were constantly slipping and sliding in the loose dirt and damp leaves. We crept down the mountain at a crawl. I found myself just wanting to be done with today’s hike – a terrible, uncharacteristic thought!
When we reached the road again, I gave it a good hard run down to the car. I treated my body to my usual stretching session in an attempt to reward its hard work and take the time to get my mind sorted. We’d gotten up and down Hwangseoksan safely, and tried to make the best choices. But I’ll admit that I was a little shaken.
Kent took an emergency nap in the car before we did a sunset drive over to Sunchang, which was our next destination. We left Hwangseoksan in the rearview mirror, grateful to have been (and been safely) but eager to one day return for a re-do of this very special summit.
KNOW AND GO! HWANGSEOKSAN
TRANSPORTATION
While the closest major center to Hwangseoksan is Hamyang, Anui is really the gateway town. You can actually start your hike in Anui if you’re alright with some highway trekking, but it might be better to take the bus.
The Anui-Seosang bus is a great option that you can catch from Anui terminal. Just 5-8 minutes will take you to the nearest trailheads on the opposite side of the Namgangcheon stream, south of the peak. A 27 minute on this same bus will take you as far as Seoha, from where you can head northeast and straight up Hwangseoksan.
For trailheads to the east of the massif, hop on the Anui-Sangbi bus. Ten minutes will take you to the trail at Sinan village. The Geochang-Yongchusa bus also plies this route, if you want access to trailheads further north. Expect a journey of up to half an hour, depending on where you’re going.
We had a rental car for the weekend’s many adventures, so we drove to Sinan village at the foot of Hwangseoksan.
HIKE & RUN
As the link between Jirisan and Deogyusan National Parks, you can expect great heights and great things from Hwangseoksan! This is a Baekdudeagan mountain: another member of Korea’s spinal mountains club.
There are so many trails and trailheads, but the spine of Hwangseoksan runs basically north-south, with the peak being near the southern edge. Therefore, all of the routes near the southern edge of the ridge offer the shortest way to the top. I believe the trails north of Sinan village offer the shortest but steepest routes to the top!
But if you want to go long and stay high, man, this is such a good place for that! Continuing north along the steep ridge will take you over Geomangsan and Wolbongsan. Branch off to the east for even more ridges, peaks and trails!
STAY & EAT
We did an ill-advised roadside snooze prior to our climb of this mountain and Hwangmaesan before it. Exceptional circumstances dictated our bonky plan, but there is simply no need for you do such a thing.
Yongchu valley is where it’s at if you want to settle in close to the trails. There are restaurants, cafes and rooms for rent here. There’s also plenty of camping the area!
If you’re targeting a different trailhead, don’t worry, there are pensions close to all of Hwangseoksan’s trails. Make sure you plan in advance when you’re headed somewhere remote!
Or you could opt to stay in Anui or Hamyang prior to/after your mountain mission.
OTHER NOTES
Hwangseoksan is 1192 meters tall – and you’ll feel all those meters from its precipitous peak! Hwangseoksan is exciting and dramatic enough that both the Korea Forest Service and Black Yak took note. Check out Hwangseoksan’s listings here (KFS) and here (BY).
Kent and I did a rather taxing – but beautiful – run-turned-scramble in November 2018. Earlier, we’d done a mini, much more relaxing ascent of Hwangmaesan.
Return to the 120 summits main page to continue the fun!
Be bold on Hwangseoksan – the views are wonderful up there.
