Seoraksan National Park

Listen first. Water runs over pale granite somewhere below you, quick and cold. The air smells of pine resin and damp leaves. Above the trees, grey rock rises in sharp ridges, cracked and folded, as if the mountain were made from broken plates stacked on end. This is Seoraksan, on the eastern edge of the Korean peninsula. The name is often explained as snowy crags, and once you see those pale peaks against the sky, the name makes sense.

If you came up from Gangneung, you travelled north along the coast to get here. The main entrance sits closer to the port city of Sokcho, where the mountains drop almost straight into the East Sea. That closeness is part of the character of this place. On a clear day, from the higher ridges, you can look one way at endless peaks and the other way at open water. Few mountain parks in the world put the two so near each other.

Seoraksan became a national park in 1970, one of the earliest in South Korea. Then, in 1982, UNESCO named the area a Biosphere Reserve. That is a recognition for places where people and wild nature are meant to live side by side, with research and protection built into the plan. So the trails you walk are not only a playground. They pass through a landscape that scientists and rangers watch closely, season by season.

The highest point is Daecheongbong, at roughly 1,708 metres. It is the third highest peak in South Korea, after Hallasan on Jeju Island and Jirisan in the south. Reaching it is a serious, long day on steep stone steps, and many hikers start before dawn to see the sunrise from the summit. But you do not need to climb that high. Most visitors spend their time in the lower valleys, where the granite walls tower over them.

The park is usually described in three parts. Outer Seorak faces the sea and holds the main entrance, the temple, and the cable car. Inner Seorak lies deeper, on the western side, with quieter valleys and long, clear streams. South Seorak is known for waterfalls and mineral springs. Most first-time visitors stay in Outer Seorak. If you are here now, that is very likely where you are standing.

A short walk from the main entrance brings you to Sinheungsa, a Buddhist temple of the Jogye Order, the largest school of Korean Buddhism. Watch for the great seated Buddha cast in bronze, sitting calmly on a high stone base with the mountains behind it. It is often called the Unification Buddha, because it carries a prayer for the two Koreas to be joined again. Many visitors stop here without knowing that meaning. Now you know it.

Inside the temple grounds, look closely at the painted wooden buildings. Korean temples use a style called dancheong — bands of green, red, blue, and white painted under the eaves. The colours are not only decoration. The paint has traditionally helped protect the wood from weather and insects. Notice, too, the fierce guardian figures at the gate. They are there to keep bad spirits out, so that visitors enter with a clear mind.

From the valley, one huge rock face fills the skyline. This is Ulsanbawi, a long wall of granite with several rounded peaks along its top. Locals tell a well-loved tale about it. Legend has it that a god called all the finest rocks to gather at Mount Geumgang, the famous mountain to the north, now across the border. This great rock travelled slowly, arrived too late, and simply settled here. It is a story, not history — but it suits the rock perfectly.

On the way toward Ulsanbawi, many hikers stop at a boulder called Heundeulbawi, which means rocking rock. It sits on a smooth ledge, and if you push it, it seems to shift slightly. Here is the surprise. People say one person can make it rock, yet a crowd pushing together still cannot tip it over. Families line up to try. The climb beyond it to the top of Ulsanbawi is steep, with metal stairs bolted into the rock.

If you prefer not to climb, there is the cable car. It lifts you from near the entrance up toward Gwongeumseong, the remains of an old mountain fortress on a rocky summit. The wall stones are low and broken now, and you need some imagination to see a fortress at all. But the view is the real reward. Ridges roll away in every direction, and on clear days you can see the coast. Queues can be long in busy seasons.

This mountain is also home to wildlife that many visitors never see. The Korean goral, a small, sure-footed wild goat, lives on the steep cliffs. It is a protected species, shy and rarely spotted. In the valleys, you are more likely to see birds, squirrels, and dragonflies over the clear pools. Rangers ask hikers to stay on marked paths. Some trails close for parts of the year to protect the forest and to reduce fire risk.

Autumn is the season Koreans love most here. In October, the maples and oaks turn deep red, orange, and gold, and the colour moves slowly down the mountain from the high ridges to the valleys. The trails fill with hikers in bright outdoor jackets, and the smell of roasted chestnuts and grilled snacks drifts from the stalls near the entrance. In winter, snow returns to the crags, and the mountain looks much like its name.

Before you leave, stand still for a moment near the stream. Notice how clear the water is, and how the stones on the bottom look almost white. Look up at the granite ridges once more, and see how the light changes their colour as clouds pass. The bronze Buddha sits quietly behind you, facing the same peaks. As you walk back toward the gate, listen again for the water. It will still be running long after you have gone.