Gallivanting on Giryeongsan (기령산)

Tucked away in the northeast corner of South Korea is the mountainous province of Gangwon. A river, the Soyang, carved a valley through this rugged landscape long ago and made space for a small riverside town called Inje. Rising above the town – but obscured from view by forest-clad ridges – is a seldom visited peak. This is Giryeongsan, and it is another of my secret, very special summits!

The author looks out over Inje and the Soyang river from an observation platform on Giryeongsan's slopes. She holds a mask in one hand and there is a large photo placard to the her side. It's a cloudy, misty day in Gangwondo.

Giryeongsan is a modest mountain. It does not boast the panoramic views of a Bonghwasan – nor is it as developed with trails. Inje is a small town, and while there are access routes on the mountain, they are relatively unmaintained and untrodden due to the lack of population density.

This solitude, this silence in the forest, is what I think makes Giryeongsan special. Unlike many other peaks on the peninsula, you don’t need to strategize to avoid crowds. Come any time of day, any day of the year, and you will be alone on this peak. It’s an ideal place for forest bathing and quiet mountain meditation. A Giryeongsan outing is a balm for the soul.

In this image, taken from the same observation platform on Giryeongsan, we see a wintery scene. Snow turns the pines lining the bottom of the frame into Christmas trees! Beyond, snow fills the air and blankets the small town of Inje below.

Untold tales of Giryeongsan

This is a mountain that keeps its secrets. We never met anyone on the mountain, so there was never anyone to ask for its stories. Neither are there any easily discoverable records specifically pertaining to this peak. So we were left to wonder about Giryeongsan’s past.

Here’s what we do know: surrounded by large military installations, the remote mountains of Inje county have long served as training grounds. They also served as setting for a vicious, fratricidal war. There are places in the mountains of Gangwon, on trails little more than rabbit tracks, where small signs indicate the presence of undisturbed graves. These are valleys that are so remote and unreachable that not all of the war’s dead have been recovered.

Giryeongsan is a gateway to this wilderness. Even on its main trails, there is evidence of military use, past and present. A rusty ration tin. A telephone wire revealed along a crumbling slope. A discarded canvas tent. But there was seldom any evidence of recent use besides our own: no footsteps in the snow, no sounds of human voices.

And yet, the peak is marked by a summit sign. Though no stone summit stele, the yellow sign affixed to the aging wooden signpost is evidence that we weren’t the only civilians to appreciate this particular peak. Giryeongsan’s summit marker bears its name and the words ‘Seoul Mountain’. For two years, we wondered about what this meant. Was it the name of a hiking club? Some physical or spiritual connection to the mountains of the distant capital?

Our good times on Giryeongsan

The first time

On January 29th, 2017, we spent all day lugging stuff on the bus from our friends’ place in Suncheon to our new new home in Inje. The next morning, we decided that unpacking could wait: we needed to meet the local mountains! And so, on the very first day of a new life in a new Korean town, we set off to meet Giryeongsan!

The possessions of Team KnC are piled on the platform of the local bus terminal. Beyond their bundle of bags, a green city bus waits for passengers.

That first time, it was dark. We found a route but didn’t fully realize all the awesomeness that we had available.

The following day, we set out a little later to take in the sights of our new mountainous playground. We found a map, identified two stellar routes, and the rest, as they say, was history!

A selfie of the author and her husband, taken on their first Giryeongsan outing in January 2017! Behind their smiling faces is a vast view of the scenic, snowy mountains that surround the town of Inje.

The lovely loop

Our first route on Giryeongsan was quickly established as a regular, weekday running route. We called it the lovely loop. Our lovely loop consisted of a dirt road that led gently uphill past an abandoned military watchtower and small temple, followed by a steep descent on narrow singletrack through a pine forest.

That first winter, we ran this route mainly to stay fit. It began just outside our apartment, which was extremely convenient. The loop length – 8.5 kilometers – was just right for a pre-dawn, pre-work run. Although short, it still managed to pack a punch with 500 meters of elevation gain. In sum, great training with easy access!

In this selfie, the running duo are posed above a grassy meadow enclosed by forest on either side. Stretching on for miles and miles are the rugged hills of Gangwon province.

We went hard at this trail, running it nearly every weekday. This being the heart of Gangwondo, conditions were tough. We seldom finished before sunrise, and the trail was either slick with ice or sticky and wet with fresh snowfall. Not having run in much snow before, we felt like beasts every time we completed a loop.

Until I got injured. On one slippery morning, I skidded down an icy patch on the road and tweaked my groin. It knocked me out of action for a very grouchy couple of weeks. This wasn’t the worst thing in the world: down-shifting to hiking for a bit helped us discover even more of Inje’s excellent trail network!

A lonely bench waits in a winter forest. A light dusting of pristine white snow tops this simple wooden seat, and also covers the forest floor around it. Tall grasses and the thinnest branches of nearby trees are painted white by hoarfrost.
Benched.

Once I was back on my feet, we were back on our Giryeongsan lovely loop. Having now added the Inje dullegil trails to our training regimen, we ran the lovely loop a little less often. But we made our once a week outing on it count!

In January, it had taken us between 1:15 and 1:25 to complete one lovely loop on the tough winter terrain. As the weather warmed and conditions improved, we aimed to better our time, every time. By June 2017, we were running speed laps of just 54 minutes!

In this vertical selfie, Kent wears a pollution mask and eyes the camera stoically. The author, in the background, holds her mask in one hand and in the other points to a tiny sign that reads 'No. 143' - and grins.
143 Giryeongsan!

In April of 2018, we knocked another 3 minutes off of our loop time for a record speediest ever at :51! Later that year, we added distance but kept improving our speed by doing interval repeats both uphill and downhill on our favorite course.

We continued to enjoy Giryeongsan’s lovely loop at least once a week for the 26 months we stayed in Inje. Come sun, snow, sleet or smog, we were there!

Slim trail to the summit

Beyond the lovely loop lies another route. In early March 2017, we set off to hike to Giryeongsan’s summit for the first time. What we discovered was a wonderfully cozy and quiet peak that quickly became a favorite.

This photograph features the entrance to Giryeongsan's summit trail. The trail begins as a series of earth steps, reinforced by wooden rails, and quickly disappears from view around a bend. There's a trail marker to one side and a large wooden map on the other.
Start of the summit trail

The 13 kilometer round-trip became another mainstay for us, though we didn’t visit the peak nearly as often as we ran the lovely loop. That’s mainly because it isn’t as runnable of a route. After the summit trail branches off the lovely loop, it quickly becomes very narrow and overgrown. There’s a bit more route-finding involved, and later a couple of steep sections that were challenging in winter.

The lovely loop took us only an hour, so it was safe to get damp and cold. Climbing to Giryeongsan’s peak was more of an expedition: requiring more time to complete and more gear to stay safe, satiated and warm.

Kent and Carrie grin in this summit selfie, their very first at Giryeonsan's peak! The summit sign is a simple plastic placard that's affixed to a wooden pole: it's broken and weathered. Three directional signs point the way onwards (or backwards) from here - and the author holds the arrow that points toward Gwangchiryeong.
2017: First summit!

Plus, the summit felt really secret and special. We were always alone up there, with scarcely so much as another footprint in the snow. So we saved it for a handful of special Sundays, particularly when we were working hard on other summits (120 others, to be precise!). Although we didn’t go often, when we did visit Giryeongsan’s peak, we really valued the experience.

In 2017, we summited Giryeongsan seven special times. The most memorable of these were our first time in March and one outing in October during which we descended along a different route into a neighboring town!

The author and best friend stand in the deep, undisturbed snow at Giryeongsan's summit. Both punch a fist into the air and smile towards the camera. Their trekking poles are resting on the summit post, which bears a new plastic name sign.
2018: Best summit!

In 2018, we were up on the summit just thrice – but all three climbs were incredible experiences. In early January, we ventured past the peak to find out what lies beyond Giryeongsan. Later that month, we took our Korean BFF Jaeseung up to the peak. Then in February, Kent put together a crazy route that I’ll describe in more detail in the next section. Suffice to say, it was at the very edge of my comfort zone!

In January of 2019, we enjoyed one last wintery summit before we left Inje. Here’s what I wrote in my training log about this run:

This same run used to take us about 2:45 from our old house under the mountain. Now that we live farther away, I figured it would take us around 3 hours. Turns out, weve gotten a lot faster and stronger! Our local peak is an annual bravery test for me. We’ve run to top of Giryeongsan every winter for three years now on the thin, scrambly remains of an army trail. It’s poorly marked, it’s incredibly steep in places and the terrain is never easy. Today we had a bit of fresh powder to add to the challenge! I was really happy with the progress I’ve made: it was a tough run for sure, but it didn’t feel quite so crazy anymore, and it was over so fast!

In one more snowy selfie, the author and husband grin for the camera in January of 2019: two years after their first Giryeongsan summit selfie!
2019: Last summit!

Edge of my comfort zone

In early 2018, Kent was working on a theory that we might be able to connect our beloved Giryeongsan with another one of our training routes on Gwangchiryeong Road. He’d done extensive research and assembled a whole series of maps. In January 2018, we set out on our first exploratory mission.

This image depicts Kent crossing a snowy helipad on Giryeongsan's long, remote ridge.

Why do this in winter, you ask? When the conditions were so cold and slippery? Despite what you may think, it made sense. Even the main trail on Giryeongsan is seldom used; probably last maintained by soldiers of the Korean war. Winter conditions offered us a line of sight: rare views of the ridges and valleys we wanted to explore. In summer, it would be an impenetrable jungle of overgrown foliage.

That first outing was a little over 18 kilometers of near constant cold and anxiety. It left me a bit shaken. It started out well: we ran up the lovely loop and slogged through the snow to the peak, like usual. Beyond the peak was new territory that I initially felt excited to explore. But that excitement soon turned to fear as we walked out onto a narrow, snow-covered ridge in high winds – so far from help or a cell signal that it felt like we might as well have been on another planet.

The author looks out across windswept, wintery hills from a perch on the Giryeongsan ridge. Her back is to the camera, and she leans on a hiking pole.

After slowly balancing our way along the ridge and painstakingly pushing our way through some brush, we were chilled through. We made the decision to descend to a forestry road we could see below. At the time it seemed to make sense: it offered the quick exit and a reprieve from the wind and deep snow. Looking back, I’m pretty amazed that we decided to just skid our way down several hundred meters of completely unfamiliar terrain!

This image features a scramble! The author is seen, back to the camera, working her way downhill. She's in between a pile of downed trees and a snowy slope, bent over and leaning heavily on her poles. A ribbon of snowy road is seen far below.

I needed a couple of weeks and safe runs to mentally recover from this ordeal. But we absolutely went back to finish what we’d started. In February, it was time to try again!

This time, the part past the peak didn’t surprise me. I was ready for Giryeongsan’s sharp ridge. To prepare for the physical challenge, I was very warmly dressed. I felt more prepared mentally too: I’d steeled my resolve to push further.

And so we did! We passed the point at which we’d skiied down the clear-cut slope and continued along the ridge. Shortly after that, we found Gwangchiryeong Road, just as Kent had suspected! The sketchiest thing we had to do was downclimb the near-vertical slope where the road had been cut into the ridge.

Then it was smooth sailing all the way back down to our town. We did it! I felt like I’d unlocked some kind of courage badge.

Still more to discover

In January 2018, we agreed to do a dog-sit for a friend of ours. For several weeks that winter, our lives were brightened by Yongdu, a very good golden boy. And it was thanks to our canine companion that we discovered even more of Giryeongsan!

A photo taken on a pre-dawn walk in the dead of winter. Only the snowy ground is visible. Yongdu, the author's furry friend, stands in fresh tire tracks and looks over his shoulder. The author is visible as a hooded shadow on the right.
Walkies!

Yongdu liked walks and we liked the mountain, so more often than not, we’d walk together a ways up the lovely loop. On one of our walks, Yongdu was sniffing around and led us to a brand new trail!

As it turns out, Giryeongsan does have its own dullegil, of sorts. There’s a short trail that winds along the low slopes just above the town. Thanks to Yongdu, we were able to add this to our Giryeongsan portfolio!

A selfie featuring the author and Yongdu on the trail!

Although initially we just used this trail for a few snowy dog walks, later that summer we incorporated it into a few easy trail and steady state runs. We were proud to know all of the trails on our local mountain, and loved gallivanting on Giryeongsan in all kinds of ways.

Know and Go! Giryeongsan

Transportation

Our gorgeous Giryeongsan is located in Inje county, Gangwon province. Inje is one of the more remote places in mainland South Korea. It’s on old highway #44 between Seoul and Sokcho (Seoraksan). Although Inje is the county seat, it’s not the biggest town in the area.

Public transit options exist, though there are more direct buses headed to Wontong – the military outpost next door. From Wontong it’s a very short taxi ride or a longer, more scenic local bus ride to Inje. There are a handful of direct buses that connect Inje to Seoul and Wonju, but most likely, you’ll be taking a bus that stops in Hongcheon. Hongcheon serves as a kind of gateway to Gangwon province, and you can transfer there to buses going elsewhere. Or, just stay in your seat and wait for the next stop: Inje. There are also a handful of buses that connect Inje and Sokcho as well.

Driving might be the quickest option for accessing Inje if you’re coming from anywhere other than another Gangwondo town or Seoul. Having your own wheels is you’re coming from southern South Korea will definitely save you time and potentially a few transfers. There’s a lot less traffic than in other parts of the peninsula, so driving here is pretty easy. Just watch out for fresh snow in winter.

Hike & Run

Definitely run or hike to Giryeongsan’s peak. If you’ve come all the way out to Inje, you owe it to yourself to bag this peak. This is particularly true because, despite the area being incredibly mountainous, there are very few accessible peaks in Inje. Lots of trails, but only one hike-able peak. Get after it!

A photograph of a wooden trail map. The summit trails are depicted in red, with the lovely loop below depicted in both blue (road) and yellow (single-track).
Giryeongsan trail map

The 13 kilometer round-trip to the peak has just over 800 meters of elevation gain. This is not a long hike nor a high peak, so it may surprise you that it’s still challenging. There are a few steep sections, but the main thing is route-finding. This is an old, infrequently-used trail: you’ll be the only one on it!

Come prepared for icy conditions in winter – but easier wayfinding in the barren forest. Summertime features dense foliage that may complicate navigation. This forest, containing a lot of evergreens, doesn’t undergo a very dramatic color change in autumn – but remains lovely year round. Spring is probably your best bet for a visit. Trail conditions will be decent, plus you’ll have the chance of spotting some nice blooms, too.

The peak proper is completely enclosed by forest. So don’t plan on this being your sunrise or sunset from spot! If that’s your thing, stop by the observation deck for incredible views over Inje on your way up or down Giryeongsan.

Come for the peak, then stay for the dullegils and other great routes around Inje!

Stay & Eat

Inje is a pretty easy day trip from Seoul, Sokcho or Wonju. If you’re coming from further afield, you might want to make a weekend of it. After Giryeongsan, you can run the riverside and check out more hiking trails in the area!

Accommodation options are neither plentiful nor varied. Inje is a small town in a very rural part of the country. The Inje Hotel is a solid concrete block that looks like it belongs in North Korea. There’s a handful of jimjilbangs where you can spend the night, but in my opinion your best bet would be to go for the lone motel that’s right next to the bus terminal. (Don’t worry, Inje is very quiet at night.)

If you’ve got your own wheels, you could very easily stay nearby in a mountain pension. There are oodles of options, particularly around the northwestern side of Seoraksan.

A photograph of a feast! A table bears a spread of delicious foods including barbecued burdok root (ddeodeokgui), potato pancake (gamjajeon) and various other spreads. A cup of rice wine (maekeolli) is being poured.

As far as eating, there are lots of marts and a handful of groceries for you to stock up on snacking supplies, plus a regular farmer’s market downtown. But for a sit-down, Korean meal, you need to visit Soryujang. You will not regret it: the food is incredible and the ambiance excellent. It’s one of the best of its kind, which is really saying something considering how many awesome mountain vegetable restaurants this country hosts! Plus it’s right on Dullegil #1!

Other Notes

We racked up 58 great Giryeongsan runs in our two plus years of living in Inje, including 11 trips to the top. Our first adventure was the very first day after we arrived in January 2017, and our last run was right before we left in March 2019.

The author strikes a pose on the wide wooden observation deck above Inje. The first rays of sunlight illuminate her in her purple shirt, plus the forested hills beyond.
The best.

Giryeongsan was the perfect training grounds for us during our life in Inje – and part of what we enjoyed about it was that it felt like it was our very own magical mountain. It’s one of those secret summits that’s not on your average bucket list – but it’s a very special place nonetheless.

Standing at 944 meters, Giryeongsan’s peak is right in the middle of the range of what South Korea has to offer: not too high, not too low. While it lacks sweeping views, it’s a cozy place for a forest picnic. Better still, it’s a wonderful place to immerse yourself in solitude.

In the last image on this page, the author runs down towards Inje through an open field between the trees. She's got her arms outstretched like an airplane, and the field really does look like a perfect spot for takeoff. In the distance is the classic East Asian scene of misty blue mountain ranges.

It was a true treasure for our training, and getting to know Giryeongsan was one of the most memorable parts of living in Inje. The mountain will always hold a special place in my heart, and I hope to one day go back for just one more lap of the loveliest loop!


If Giryeongsan sounds like your kind of mountain, feel free to check out more of secret summits! Or, if you were looking for Gyeryongsan, I’ve got you!


Leave a Reply