Snowboarding in Korea | Welli Hilli Park Ski Resort

Snowboarding has been at the top of my to do list ever since we moved to Korea, especially since the Winter Olympics will be held here in 2018. We may have forgotten to pack basic home items like a microwave (we still don’t have or use one) but at least we packed our snowboards! Unfortunately, by the time we moved into our new apartment and received our shipment of housing goods last year, the ski/snowboard season was practically finished.

Sly found a good deal for a group day trip to Welli Hilli Ski Resort (I keep wanting to call it “Will Nilli”) over Valentine’s Day weekend and while we aren’t really tour group type people the thought of not having to drive a total of eight hours there and back —  like all times we drove to Tahoe — really appealed to us.

Don’t get me wrong, we still woke up early – 3:30 am early – but at least we could sleep on the bus.

On the drive up to Welli Hilli our tour guide (?) informed us that it was supposedly the coldest day of the year. I don’t know about coldest day but it was pretty damn cold, even bundled up under all those layers.

Once we arrived we made our way to the locker room, screwed on and adjusted our bindings, laced up our boots, packed our bags with snacks, and stuffed the rest in a locker. Then we grabbed our boards and walked out into the sunshine. Sure it was frigidly cold, but the warm sun and deep blue skies made us anxious to play in the snow.

We strapped in our boards and skated up to the gates where we self-scanned our credit card-like day passes zipped up in our front pockets. There weren’t many people at the ski park and the lines moved quickly and efficiently.

We boarded down a beginner slope for our first run to warm up and get a feel for the snow.  Even though I have snowboarded for over fifteen years I still have the worst luck getting off the lift. In the US the chair lifts seem to move so quickly, as if you’re on a seat that is being ejected. I have become tangled in other people’s straps and skis, collided with people either just getting off the lift or who had already fallen in front of me, and have tumbled or been dragged off the chair more times than I can remember and not once has the chair lift operator stopped the chair lift or even slowed it down.

Oh, but we were in Korea, land of the considerately operated chair lift that paused to ensure everyone exited the lift safe and sound.  Nothing but blue skies and slow chair lifts. It was going to be a great day.

For our second run we rode the gondola to the top of the mountain. Our plan was to snowboard down what looked to be one of the longest intermediate runs on the backside of the mountain.

Unfortunately the trail we wanted to snowboard was closed off so we took the only way available: a very steep advanced course.

I always feel a mixture of nervousness and excitement at the beginning of an unfamiliar run and this day was no different. As I sat on the icy wooden bench strapping into my board, soaking up the stunning scenery around me, I felt calm, serene, and happy to be outdoors doing something I loved.

Let’s do this!

My first run was absolute bliss. Despite extremely icy conditions I attacked the course and flew down the mountain with freedom and ease, leaving Sly and our friend on skis in the dust (or snow?).

I felt really good about things; all laughter and smiles as we headed back up to the same trail on a different lift for our second run.

And then I fell. Over and over and over again, run after run.

It was so icy I couldn’t maintain my edge. One time I caught my toe edge, flopped right on my face, and then proceeded to slide down the mountain in the most comical way imaginable, as if I were a splattered bug pressed up against and slowly sliding down a window. The slope was so steep and icy that any time I attempted to get up I slid further and further down the hill.

The worst part about the whole thing was that the actual fall didn’t hurt, but when I tried to push myself upright I fell backward (again) and tweaked my shoulder.

After the initial shock and embarrassment wore off all I could do was laugh. Our friend, who watched the entire thing from the top of the hill, crumpled over in laughter as I literally slid down a slippery slope. Then he fell in the exact same spot. Karma is a bitch.

After several runs and a million falls we needed a break.

Lunch time!

The ski lodge wasn’t very lodge-like at all but instead felt like a (very clean) mall food court. While I loved the village, cabin feel of many ski lodges in the US, I certainly did not miss the smell of wet, moldy, snow-soaked carpet and tables littered with trash people were too lazy to clean. People didn’t come here to lounge around, read books, or sit by fireplaces, they came to eat. Just like us.

Hot soup of any kind was without a doubt the most popular item people ordered but it was the dim sum restaurant that really caught our eye. How could we resist? They even had XLB! We ordered pretty much everything off the menu and split it three ways. I’ll take fresh dim sum over a foil wrapped steamed burger any day of the week!

Other restaurants included: a hot dog stand, another soup place, and a coffee shop. Upstairs, above the food court, were the nicer sit down restaurants. We were happy sitting at our picnic table slurping up noodles and dumplings.

After lunch we hit the slopes with renewed energy.

We boarded the same course multiple times except instead of going all the way back down we veered off to the right to catch a chair lift that took us back up to the top. This allowed us to avoid the beginner slopes and all the wobbly and nervous ski school students.

I kept falling at the same exact spot but at least I wasn’t the only one. More experienced snowboarders and skiers had a hard time on this one section too. Even so after the millionth fall I began to feel tired, frustrated, and my confidence shaken.

I always like to end things with a good, solid run, so on my last ride I decided to let go and have fun.

Once again the feeling of freedom returned as did my confidence.

It wasn’t the perfect run, but I had a lot of fun.

GoPro helmet cam. The color somehow became altered when I exported the video and I was too lazy to fix or remake the clip. You get the idea. 

Towards the end of the day our friend decided he had enough so Sly and I continued, this time on an easier, wider, flatter trail, one that we could fly down without much carving at all.

We weaved in and around and beside snowboarders and skiers, hopping over little bumps, and gliding effortlessly on what little snow we had.

As I made my final turn into the chair lift area I passed under a shady tree, not realizing the huge patch of slick, dark, ice below me. There was no recovering. I caught my edge and went down so hard it felt as if my teeth rattled in my head. This was definitely one of those times when I was glad I had a helmet. I stood up tentatively, shell-shocked, and watched as person after person bit it in that exact same spot. “Yeah, I’m done for the day,” I thought.

But of course I wasn’t. Because I couldn’t end the day like that.

Sly and I got back on the chairlift and sped back down the same slope. This time we found a hidden stretch of untouched powder that we boarded through as if floating on air, all the way to the end.

There was a time in my life when all I wanted to do was move to Tahoe and snowboard all day, every day. I was obsessed with getting to a certain level of snowboarding and and with keeping up with friends who were better than me and had been boarding longer. In the process I became extremely frustrated with myself. I hated when I couldn’t get something right. I hated when I saw kids way younger than me effortlessly pulling all kinds of crazy tricks. I hated when I felt like I would never get any better. And then there was the hassle of getting to Tahoe: trying to sneak out of work early, searching for a place to stay during high season, the traffic to and from SF, and the overly crowded slopes. Eventually I only snowboarded when I knew there would be good powder. Eventually I stopped going at all. I stopped doing something I loved because it stopped being fun — I stopped having fun.

I think a lot of times people, myself included, talk themselves out of doing outdoorsy things — hiking, snowboarding, surfing, running, rock climbing, etc. — because they believe that only a certain type of extreme athlete is capable of enjoying such activities. I am far from the best snowboarder in the world, and sure, sometimes it’s a hassle getting up early and hitting the slopes, but I try not to let that prevent me from doing something I love: playing in the snow, breathing in fresh mountain air, and carving through whatever little powder I get. It’s no longer about terrain parks or double blacks or keeping up. Now I view every opportunity I get to snowboard as a win. Every run is a clean slate: a chance to be better than the previous run or to get back up after falling a thousand times. Whatever course I run — easy, hard, steep, flat, beginner, advanced — for me happiness comes from the simple joy of being outside and enjoying a beautiful winter day with Sly.

The awesome views from the top are the icing on the cake.

DETAILS

Welli Hilli Ski Park Resort | COST: $50-60 for a full day pass (less as part of a group), though varies throughout the year, time of day, etc.  | LOCATION: 451, Gowon-ro, Bangnim-myeon, Pyeongchang-gun, Gangwon-do | FACILITIES: lodging, food, coin lockers, dressing rooms, plenty of restrooms (even at the top of the mountain), ski/snowboard rentals, snow clothes/gear rentals, several cafés on the mountain itself. | DESCRIPTION: Year-round resort with various activities available throughout the year. The ski/snowboard park is rather compact and I would say mostly for beginner or intermediate levels though they do have a half pipe and a mogul course. If you’re just learning to ski or snowboard this would be a pretty good place because the beginner courses are wide and not too flat.  If you stay at the resort lodging you can ski in/out as the hotel facilities are located right on the mountain.