Winter hiking in Korea is colder than you think

So I decided on the spur-of-the-moment to join a Korean hiking group for an all-day hike yesterday (Sunday). I was at dinner Saturday night with a few fellow foreign teachers and their Korean friends. One of the Koreans (Sandra) mentioned she was taking a bus that night from Seoul, at 11 pm, to a mountainous area about 4 hours away. She and her hiking group would arrive at their destination at 3:30 am and promptly begin an all-day trek, returning to Seoul Sunday evening. That sounded pretty nuts to me, but I really felt like hiking; I also felt like doing something new and spontaneous. So after refusing to let myself think about the many reasons I shouldn't go, I arrived home from dinner just in time to pack some water, a few granola bars, and my camera -- and don the warmest clothing I own (which I would later find out, wasn't warm enough).
At precisely 3:30 am on Sunday, having slept roughly a half-hour on the bus, I laced up my hiking boots and waited for the Koreans to finish strapping on their gaiters, adjust their sleek day packs, and layer up with hi-tec clothing. I was sort of laughing to myself thinking that they were overdoing it quite a bit. The town where I live, near Seoul, and the nearby mountain (which I had already hiked several times this winter) had been cold, but nothing to justify this kind of gear. It appeared the Koreans were preparing to climb K2, or at least Mt. Rainier. Sandra had also loaned me an extra set of crampons, which I accepted out of courtesy. How little I knew about winter hiking in Korea.
Outside, by the light of our headlamps, we made final adjustments before finding the trailhead. We would need the headlamps for about four hours, as dawn wasn't until seven-thirty. I realized about 10 minutes into the journey that I had seriously underestimated the weather conditions. I hadn't realized that a mere four-hour trip could bring such a change. After all, we weren't even 1,000 feet higher than the altitudes near Sanbon (my city). But here the trail was covered with snow, the wind was howling, and the temperatures quite a bit colder than I had expected. It took me about four hours of hiking before I started getting really cold. I had never before been so cold, for so long. After a while, the snow also started getting really deep. Luckily, the surface was pretty hard because of the cold and our boots didn't sink down too much.
The hike would have been miserable indeed if not for the company. The Koreans were all in good spirits. I came really underprepared: not only did I lack proper clothing, but I only brought a few snacks, thinking that we would stop somewhere for lunch. Without even asking, the Koreans spontaneously offered me food and extra clothing, such as a coat and better gloves. (I look like a marshmallow in the photo because I'm wearing two coats.) One person would hand me a cup of soup from a thermos or some coffee; another would shove some cookies or part of a sandwich into my hands. The only thing I regret is not being able to join in their conversations. Only a few of them spoke some English.
Twelve hours later, I was limping down the road to where the bus was parked waiting for us. With a handful of others I opted to take a shortcut at the end, skipping the hardest ascent. Not surprisingly, my knee started to hurt. For the last few years it has bothered me on long hikes and runs. I was actually surprised it didn't start hurting sooner, but that may have been because of the extra cushion afforded by the snow.
So a day that could have been one of the most miserable of my life turned out to be a most memorable one. I think I'll go again. (Though I might wait 'till spring!)