Late Winter Snow on Gaya Mountain

Late in the winter, in early March, daytime temperatures were generally around 10 degrees Celcius in Busan, with nighttime temperatures slightly below zero on the coldest nights.  There was little snow to be found anywhere in Busan, or anywhere in southeastern Korea for that matter.

Wishing to explore Korea in early spring, I headed to Gaya moutain (가야산), the namesake of a provincial park located on the border of South GyeongSang province (경상남도) and North GyeongSang province (경상남도).  Gaya Mountain National Park (가야산국립공원) is accessible by bus from Daegu, Korea's fourth largest city.  The park and the mountain at its center are named in honour of the Gaya Confederacy, a small kingdom based in the territories along the NakDong river that coexisted with the Goguryeo, Baekje and Silla kingdoms during the three kingdoms period, 1500 years ago.

When I arrived at the park, it did indeed look as I expected.  It was snowless and leafless, as the snow had recently melted but the days had not warmed enough to allow leaves to sprout on the trees.  However, the landscape of the park was not completely brown, as a hardy green undergrowth had managed to survive the winter cold.  There were also a few orange coloured leaves left over from the autumn.

Orange remnants of the autumn, in 가야산 공원 in early March.

Green undergrowth under leafless trees, in 가야산 공원.

Beautiful twisted tree trunks, by the path going up 가야산.

A few lonely leaves, having managed to cling to their parent tree throughout the winter.

But as I climbed higher and higher up the mountain, there was more and more evidence that the cold of the winter had only very recently began to ebb...

A frozen stream, on 가야산.

Snow below the trees on 가야산.

Snow on the path going up 가야산.

...  until I found myself climbing into the cloud cover and entering a completely snow-covered landscape.

Entering the clouds towards the summit of 가야산, as the snow cover increases.

Looking up at the trees after entering the cloud cover of 가야산.

Hardy green undergrowth, still green in spite of the snow.

Frozen leaves, in the cloud cover of 가야산.

More and more snow, higher and higher on 가야산.

The snowscape, high on 가야산 in March.

As I neared the summit of the mountain, its slope became steeper and steeper, and the path up the mountain often passed near sharp cliffs.  But I could not see down the mountain, as the clouds were too thick.  Still, the scenery there was beautiful.

Approaching the top of the tree cover, near the summit of 가야산.

Frosty trees by the edge of a cliff, near the summit of 가야산.

Frost on the end of the branches of a tree, with only cloud in the background.

A small tree, near the edge of cliff on 가야산.

An evergreen tree, twisted by the wind and covered in frost, by the edge of a cliff on 가야산.

As I got even closer to the peak, the landscape became increasingly barren of trees.  The path going up the mountain passed between large boulders, in small passes that were filled with so much snow that to navigate them almost required snow shoes.

Snowy rocks and boulders, approaching the summit of 가야산.

A snow-filled pass, near the summit of 가야산.

The thickest snow cover I saw all winter, on 가야산 in early March.

Just as I was beginning to think that it would probably be more difficult to climb down the snowy slopes than to climb them up, I crossed the path of another hiker who was heading back down the mountain.  In broken Korean, I managed to ask him how much farther it was to the peak.  He responded, but I could not understand what he said.  Following this exchange, he looked at my shoes.  Then, pointing down to the sturdy pair of metal cleats that were fastened upon his, he said: "없음", and then uttered a "shhweet" sound while making a gesture that clearly suggested that I would slip and fall off the mountain if I carried on without proper cleats.  Heeding his advice, I decided to turn back, realizing that I should have trusted my instincts when they earlier had told me that the path was getting dangerous. 

On the way down, I walked slowly in the snowy zone of the mountain, wanting to appreciate one last moment of winter before returning to the spring.

Frosty trees and rocks, high on 가야산.

The snowy path to the summit of 가야산 in March.

Leafless shrubs and dried grass poking through the snow on 가야산.

Ice crystals cupped in a frozen leaf, on 가야산.

As I reached the bottom of the mountain, a park employee who had smiled at me as I entered the park earlier in the day asked me if I had reached the summit.  I successfully communicated to her that I could not do it, as there was too much snow on the mountain.  She wished me well, and I walked on out of the park.

As I left the park, I could see no hint of the snowy landscape in which I had spent most of the day, as it was completely hidden from view by the clouds.

Low clouds on the mountains of 가야산 공원, hiding from view a wintery wonderland.