MT. DOBONGSAN: THE PERFECT ESCAPE
From Dining and Shopping to Hiking—And Everything in Between
By: Edsel E. Jeon
In this article, I’ll share how Dobongsan captured my heart among all the mountains I’ve explored in South Korea.
From the photo above, it’s honestly not that hard to see why. But to get things started, here are a few key details about this beautiful destination in the Land of the Morning Calm.
GETTING THERE
Like many mountains in Seoul, Dobongsan is very accessible. You can get there easily by train or bus—just head to Dobong Station.
DISTRACTIONS...
The moment you step out of the station, you’re immediately greeted by a stunning view of Dobongsan—so don’t be surprised if you find yourself taking photos and videos right away... especially on your first visit.
From there, you cross the street, climb a short set of stairs, and just like that—you’re welcomed by your first hiking shop on one side and your first food stall on the other. And it doesn’t stop there.
For the next 1 to 1.5 kilometers, the path becomes a lively stretch of:
- hiking gear stores
- restaurants and snack stalls
- cafés and convenience stops
It’s not just a trail—it’s an experience before the hike even begins.
Eventually, you’ll reach the entrance marked by the sign of Bukhansan National Park—where your actual hike starts.
WAIT… BUKHANSAN?
Yes, it can be confusing at first.
Even though you’re heading to Dobongsan, the entrance is still labeled under Bukhansan National Park. That’s because the park doesn’t refer only to Mt. Bukhansan itself—it actually covers a larger protected area that includes Dobongsan and other nearby mountain sections.
Think of it this way:
Bukhansan National Park = the entire mountain systemDobongsan = one of its most popular sections
THE PLAN… THAT DIDN’T EXACTLY START AS PLANNED
Just before exiting Dobong Station, I realized I only had two 500ml bottles of water—one of which was already half empty. My original priority was simple: buy at least three more.
But the moment I crossed the street and climbed a short set of stairs, my priorities… shifted.
To my right was the first hiking store. To my left, the first food stall—just the beginning of a lively stretch of restaurants and shops that would continue for the next 1 to 1.5 kilometers, all the way to the entrance of Bukhansan National Park.
And just like that, a new set of priorities was born.
On top of that, Dobongsan clearly wasn’t in a rush to welcome summer yet. Cherry blossoms—and other vibrant flowers—were still in full bloom, adding a refreshing, almost dreamy feel to the trail.
And then there were the senior hikers—some doing what looked like stretching… or maybe tai chi… either way, it was oddly calming and impossible to ignore.
Somewhere in between all these distractions, the thought of buying extra water briefly resurfaced… but I confidently told myself:
“Relax, there are probably convenience stores ahead.”
There weren’t.
The next thing I knew, I was already at the trailhead.
So, I ended up starting the hike with roughly 900ml of water, convincing myself it would be enough—after all, Dobongsan didn’t feel as hot as Inwangsan… right?
THE PLANNED TRAIL… THAT ALSO DIDN’T GO AS PLANNED
While checking my DIY map before starting the hike, I was about to take a photo of the park entrance sign when a group of ajusshis arrived and started taking turns for their group photo—no tripod, just teamwork.
I offered to take the photo for them… secretly hoping it wouldn’t turn into another Baegundae-level photoshoot with some random ajusshi.
Fortunately, it didn’t.
I took about five shots, even suggested a few poses, and they were so delighted they couldn’t stop thanking me as they veered off to the left side of the marker—left as seen from my point of view, just to keep everyone properly oriented.
That’s when I remembered a tip I once read:
“ 1st time in Mt. Dobongsan, just follow the local hikers—
especially the seniors. They know the way.”
So… I did exactly that—I followed a group of senior locals hiking to the left side of the park marker.
It only hit me later that I hadn’t snapped a photo of the park marker—I got too busy helping the ajusshis and then immediately trailed after them. So, for illustration purposes, here’s what it looked like (or at least, what my slightly distracted brain remembers).
Here’s the plot twist: to actually follow my DIY trail map correctly, I should have turned RIGHT at the marker—not LEFT. But of course, that brilliant realization only arrived at the very end of the activity.
I couldn’t keep up with the ajusshis for long. I had other priorities—like documenting almost everything along the trail.
Thankfully, since it was a Sunday, there were plenty of other senior hikers around, so finding someone to “follow” at any point wasn’t exactly hard.
FIRST IMPRESSIONS ON THE TRAIL
One thing that immediately stood out about Dobongsan was the number of temples scattered along the trail—I honestly lost count.
The first one appeared just about 250 meters from the start and then came two more temples, sitting more than a kilometer further along the trail. I didn’t manage to take photos of them though—they were tucked below a cliff, and the only way down was, of course, a long set of stairs.
I knew the temple on my map was supposed to be about 200-250 meters from the marker, and I even had a photo of what it looked like from the outside— I guess I was just too preoccupied with “documentation duties” that I didn’t even pause to ask myself the very important question: why do these structures not look the same at all?
Instead, I continued making my way up—sometimes following random senior hikers, sometimes just slowing down to take it all in.
.jpg)
Because in Dobongsan, the beauty isn’t just at the peak—
it’s reflected in every step along the way.
I saw this hiker with one of those long lenses attached to a camera, carefully trying to photograph a plant from a very specific angle... of course, I followed his " stunt " with my iphone and with a little sprinkle of filter... amazing...
Then, out of nowhere, this fairytale-like pathway just appeared…
I ended up joining a new group of senior hikers—just the four of us on this stretch of the trail. I stayed quietly behind them, doing my best to blend in while filming the trail, when one of them suddenly turned around and looked completely enchanted—like he had just witnessed something too beautiful to ignore.
He paused, almost in disbelief, and couldn’t help but ask…
Here’s a video of that exact moment.
After the brief “enchanting” moment, the ajusshis moved ahead, and the enchantress decided it was time to rehydrate.
I found a good spot to rest and carefully mixed my electrolyte powder with the extra 500ml bottle of water, treating it like liquid gold—because not a single drop was allowed to spill. Supply was limited... remember?
Like the other mountains I had explored in the past few days, my goal for Mt. Dobongsan was clear: conquer its highest peak, Jaunbong. From Dobong Station, I knew it was roughly around 4KM of trekking.
At the start, the peak stood clearly in front of me—bold, obvious, almost like it was politely waiting. For the first half of the walk, I was literally staring straight at it.
Then the trail shifted… the peak was directly to my right as I continued hiking...
While I scanned the surroundings for photo opportunities, something felt off. My so-called “common sense”—started whispering...
Because at that point… Jaunbong Peak wasn’t in front of me anymore. It wasn’t even to my right.
It was way behind me—not “behind” in the sense that I could still see it in the background, but behind in a much more " far away" manner.
If we use the English alphabet as reference, my quick rest stop was basically Point A… and Jaunbong Peak was somewhere around Point M. We were that far apart.
I paused. Checked my Garmin. It confirmed I was already around 4KM in. And that’s when the real confusion set in.
Still, I pushed forward, convincing myself my common sense was just being dramatic. After all, there was only one main path, and I had followed the " golden hiking rule " in Mt. Dobonsong: “ First time?Just follow the locals… especially the seniors.”
So I told myself I was fine. Probably just overthinking again.
But the further I went, the louder my “common sense” got—basically yelling at me at that point. And honestly… it had a point.
The kind guy even offered to be my instant tour guide and led me all the way to Jaunbong Peak. When we got there, he handed me a protein bar—apparently concerned that I might be running low on food after accidentally turning a supposed 4KM hike into 7.8KM-not-even-near-the-peak-yet-hike.
Before heading off, he even taught me a bit of basic Korean, just to make sure people would understand me more easily… in case I got lost again: " Sinseondae eodi-yeyo? "
I GOT LOST BECAUSE...?
So, where exactly was the “right way”?
Just 1.8KM from the park marker. So yes—I literally hiked almost 2.2KM past it… only to turn around and walk the exact bonus distance all over again.
Remember how I mentioned that after the first temple, I spotted two more tucked below a cliff? Well… that was the route. I was supposed to head down that cliff, pass by those temples, and then make my way up toward Jaunbong Peak.
How did I miss it? Ok. Let me rationalize...
Simple. The sign didn’t even mention Jaunbong Peak in the first place… and I, of course, was busy doing everything else—taking photos, following the local senior hikers as recommended...
Finally, the view of Jaunbong Peak realigned right in front of me—exactly where it should’ve been all along. As I made my way down, I could hear monks chanting in the distance, echoing through the trail and adding a surreal calm to the moment. I kept walking until I passed by the second temple...
Further down the trail, I spotted another ajusshi heading back toward the starting area, and I decided it was time to finally use the “Korean line” the guy I met earlier had taught me. As I approached him, I quietly arranged the words in my head and rehearsed them like it was a live performance—aiming for nothing less than a flawless delivery.
And then…
So we ended up talking—turns out he had spent time in the Philippines during his work assignment. If I remember correctly, he was involved in building roads and bridges, which instantly made sense given how common those projects are back home in Mindanao.
And then, when I finally asked him—not in Korean, but in good old English—where Jaunbong was, he gave me a reassuring answer that basically translated to:
“You can’t get lost from here anymore.”
JAUNBONG—AT LAST. Not the peak… but finally, the right trail.
After what felt like an endless stretch of trees and rocks, the view suddenly opened up—and it was refreshing. A stream flowed beneath a small bridge, where hikers had gathered, casually enjoying lunch and snacks with friends like it was a picnic spot prepared for them by nature itself.
Then came another signpost. Still no mention of Jaunbong Peak, but it did point toward a key stop before the final ascent that was mentioned on my DIY-map.
And finally… confirmation. I was no longer lost. Officially. Lol.
This section of the trail was almost as hot as Inwangsan, but what surprised me most was seeing so many kids out there. Considering this was the highest peak in the area, I half-expected fewer young hikers—but clearly, they were handling it better than I was.
While I was filming the trail, this one kid suddenly zoomed past me and took the lead like he was basically trying to show me how it’s done. For a second, I got worried because there was no adult immediately behind me, and I was thinking, “Did this kid just go solo on a mountain?” But eventually, I saw him reunite with his parents and grandpa at Madang Rock.
Madang Rock turned out to be a wide, flat rock formation offering a beautiful panoramic view of Seoul. It also served as a natural rest stop, where hikers gathered to catch their breath before tackling the final push to the summit.
I overheard the same kid trying to convince his mom to let him continue all the way to the peak. She, of course, said no—firmly. Meanwhile, I did see other kids who made it all the way up. Not as young as him, but definitely young enough to impress me… especially considering the challenge of the ascent—and more importantly, the descent.
THE ASCENT TO JAUNBONG PEAK
The start of the ascent required a bit of scrambling—nothing too extreme...
Then came the real deal: a lot of climbing... this and the stairs.
And of course… because I apparently miss acting, I took this as my moment to add a little action to the scene.
Here’s the thing—when I finally reached the summit, aside from a few people who had confidently turned the wooden marker into their personal picnic and rest area (making it nearly impossible to get a decent selfie with a view), one detail immediately caught my attention: the writing on the marker… specifically, the altitude.
Jaunbong was supposed to be 740m, and Sinseondae was listed at 726m.
So naturally, my brain went: Wait… am I on the wrong peak again?
Well… yes and no.
Technically, yes—I wasn’t on Jaunbong Peak. But not because I got lost this time. It turns out that most trails actually lead to Sinseondae Peak... Maybe that's why the basic Korean line the guy taught me a while ago was " Sinseondae... NOT Jaunbong eodi-yeo " since access to Jaunbong itself is restricted and reserved for rock climbers, since reaching it requires technical skills and proper experience—not exactly a casual hike situation.
So in a way, I ended up exactly where I was supposed to be.
And the good news? Jaunbong was standing proudly right next to Sinseondae, close enough to admire—and of course, take a photo—before making my descent.
THE DESCENT BACK TO... THE SHOPPING AREA.
The way down was twice as hard as going up. It was a one way lane so you had to wait for the person in front of you to move before you can move... overtaking was not possible since there was only 1 bar handle shared by people ascending and descending at the same time.
Then a senior lady who was on her way up politely demonstrated how to easily descend from the top... " Just walk backwards..." and the line moved quickly after the demo.
SUDDENLY… I WAS IN A DIFFERENT AREA
Okay… I know this sounds strange—and you’ll probably relate if you’ve been to Dobongsan and experienced the same thing.
I used the same path going up to the peak and took the exact same route on the way down—because, honestly, there weren’t many other options... I expected to find my back to Madang Rock and so on...
But somehow… along the way, I found myself in a completely different area.
The next thing I knew, I was watching people descend from what I believe was Seoninbong Peak, rappelling their way down. Madang Rock was no longer within the vicinity.
Instead of going back to look for Madang Rock, I decided to just follow this new trail—it was clearly established anyway.
After about 1.5 km, my 900 ml of water was completely consumed.
Fortunately, an old structure—painted in white and brown—appeared. It was Dobong Shelter. Outside, there was a poster showing the beverages and items they sold… but unfortunately, it was mostly coffee and apricot juice... no cold... bottled water.
Right there, a stream of cold, fresh spring water flowed continuously into a large basin. It was incredibly tempting… but I wasn't confident to do an " Alone: Newbie Season " stunt... so, I told myself I’d just buy water or Gatorade once I got back—after all, I’m used to running 5–10 km without hydration... mind conditioning.
So, I continued.
BACK TO FAMILIAR GROUND
As I made my way down, I suddenly reached Gwangnyunsa Temple (also known as the Optical Wheel Temple). The temple that should have been the 1st stop from the start became the last pit-stop. Lol!
Fortunately, they sold super cold beverages there.
Relief instantly kicked in—I knew I was only about 200–250 meters away from the park marker.
REWARDING MYSELF (A DAY EARLY )
Instead of waiting until Monday to reward myself with hiking gear, I decided to do it right there near the entrance—where shops were everywhere.
I went to Black Yak to buy a pair of trekking boots—the same one I originally planned to purchase at the Bukhansan branch using my 30% discount voucher.
But when I handed the voucher to the staff… confusion.
Apparently, it was only valid at the Bukhansan branch—not Dobongsan.
So yes… I had to buy the shoes without the discount. No turning back at that point... and going back to the other branch wasn't feasible anymore given the limited time.
Next, I checked three different shops for trekking poles:
- Black Yak – limited options
- The North Face – good, but only in white
- Finally, Kolping – where I found a PURPLE pair I loved
The staff, however, insisted it wasn’t the right fit for me because the design was made for " SMALL HANDS " and they were obviously smaller in diameter too...
He recommended another model… luckily, it was also in my favorite color. So, deal closed.
I wrapped up my “reward shopping” by taking photos under cherry blossoms… with an extra “ organic encounter “ arranged by AI. Ahahahhahahahaha!
KIMCHI JJIGAE = FINAL REWARD
I then headed back toward the restaurant across the station—the same one where I had promised the ajumma I’d return.
But first… I grabbed some spicy fish cake from a nearby stall.
As I approached the restaurant area, I loved seeing hikers gathered with friends—celebrating their climb with food and, of course, soju.
I thanked the ajumma for the amazing meal and headed back to Hongdae—feeling full, happy, and accomplished.
REALIZATIONS
It’s easy to fall in love with Mt. Dobongsan because it offers so much more than just a hike. From traditional Korean food and accessible gear shops ( often with promo sales ) to witnessing how deeply hiking is embedded in Korean culture—even among families and young kids—it becomes an experience that goes beyond the trail.
Much like BTS and their interpretation and incorporation of Arirang in this chapter of their journey, Mt. Dobongsan carries a story—soft, engaging, and deeply rooted. In its own way, Mt. Dobongsan doesn’t just take you to the beautiful " Granite Peaks of Seoul "… it brings you closer to the heart of South Korea.
Saranghae 💜
