Thrills underfoot, wonder ahead: Sachando's hidden natural splendor

The word "island" tends to conjure images of crashing waves and lazy afternoons. Sachando, off the coast of Tongyeong in South Gyeongsang Province, shatters that notion entirely.

The jagged rock formations lining its ridgeline are as rugged and raw as the famed Dinosaur Ridge of Seoraksan, only compressed into a smaller frame. The sheer mass of the rocky peaks is enough to leave a visitor momentarily stunned — but reach the summit and the deep-blue panorama of Hallyeohaesudo fills every corner of the view, rooting you to the spot. It is this seamless marriage of mountain and sea that keeps hikers coming back.

The island's original name was "Bakdo" — the upper island called Sangbakdo and the lower one Habakdo. The narrow, winding strait between them moved like a long, slender snake, earning the waterway the name "saryang," which eventually gave the island its current name, Sachando. A separate folk legend holds that a giant serpent living on the island's Oknyeobong peak was hopelessly in love with a celestial maiden who dwelled there. So deeply did that belief take root that islanders for generations refused to harm any snake they encountered on village paths or mountain trails, treating them instead as sacred creatures to be respected and left in peace.

For most visitors, the purpose of coming to Sachando is singular: a hike through scenery of extraordinary beauty. The island is celebrated for the way its dramatic rocky ridgeline, flanked by towering formations of oddly shaped boulders, gives way at the top to an unobstructed sweep of the Hallyeohaesudo sea.

For the full visual impact, Oknyeobong is the destination. The passenger ferry from Gaochi Port in Tongyeong docks at Geumpyeong Port — the gateway to the upper island and home to the Sachando ferry terminal — and the hike begins almost immediately. A short walk from the pier to the front of Sacha Elementary School brings you to a fork in the trail; going straight is the most common route.

Wanting a faster ascent, this reporter turned left toward Okdong Port instead. A quiet coastal path lined with blooming mimosa flowers stretched ahead. About 20 minutes in, a signpost marking the entrance to the Oknyeobong trail appeared, pointing toward Deukguksa temple beside Gwaneumnakgasa. It is one of the shortest routes to the Oknyeobong summit — and because the distance is short, the gradient is punishing, which is why few hikers choose it.

Looking up at the Oknyeobong rock face from inside the temple grounds, the summit seemed impossibly far away. Regret at not taking the easier path was already setting in when a monk appeared. Seeing the reporter's hesitation, he clicked his tongue. "When I was young, I used to run from here to Oknyeobong in 13 minutes," he said. Asked whether the climb was very hard, the monk offered a weighty thought: the mind governs everything.

"When you face a steep path and tell yourself it's too hard to go on, you really won't make it. Change how you think and everything changes. Go on up — you'll be fine." The monk's calm, unhurried voice sent a quiet surge of courage through a traveler standing at the foot of a forbidding rocky ridge.

Past the stone pagoda at the trailhead, the path turned brutally steep almost at once. The incline was sharp and slippery, and every step demanded a conscious tightening of the ankles. The trail sees few visitors at the best of times, and the undergrowth showed it — grass and thorny brambles blocked the path and jabbed at the legs, as if the mountain itself were pushing back. Progress slowed. The thought of having taken the gentler route everyone else uses kept surfacing. At one point it even crossed this reporter's mind that the monk might have sent us this way as a joke.

The steep gradient from the very start made it feel as though the chest might burst. Each step forward came only with the help of trekking poles. The idea of turning back flickered briefly, then died — the ferry schedule left no room for retreat. Stubbornness took over, and pushing through the undergrowth brought an unexpected reward: a small deer rustled in the brush ahead, then bolted the moment it spotted a human. The remoteness of the trail had its own kind of magic.

After clearing the steepest section, the trail finally merged with the main hiking route ascending from Geumpyeong Port at a three-way junction on the Oknyeobong ridge. The sight of a well-maintained path and clear signposts brought a wave of relief — and the realization that the summit was close.

A little farther along, a silver iron staircase rose like a wall across the path. The gradient was every bit as dizzying as rumored. In the past, climbers hauled themselves up using U-shaped iron rungs hammered into the rock face and lengths of rope; today a proper steel structure has replaced them. The angle, viewed from below, is severe enough to be visually intimidating on its own. Anyone with a fear of heights would feel a chill run up their spine the moment they stood at the bottom. Gripping the silver railing tight, this reporter began climbing one step at a time. Each gust of wind that swept across the face sent the heart lurching, jolting every cell in the body awake.

After continuing up a gradient that photographs simply cannot convey, the iron steps give way to wooden ones, and the summit of Oknyeobong finally comes into view. The summit marker reads 281 meters above sea level. All that effort, and the climb had not even cleared 300 meters.

Any sense of anticlimax lasts only a moment. Stand among the rough stone cairns and the summit marker, and it becomes immediately clear why people call this view "a once-in-a-lifetime panorama." With nothing to interrupt the sightline in any direction, the vast blue expanse of Hallyeohaesudo unfolds like a miniature laid out for inspection.

In the distance, Sachando Bridge — connecting the upper and lower islands — cuts a graceful arc across the water, and beyond it the ridgeline of Chilhyeonsan on the lower island stretches out in a single unbroken sweep. Fishing boats trace white foam across the calm sea, and a passenger ferry threads its way between the islands — a living painting. Hikers catching their breath at the top exhale in wonder: "Worth every hard step to get here." It is a scene too vast for any camera frame to contain.

Leaving the summit of Oknyeobong behind and walking another 500 meters toward Gamabong peak, visitors encounter another of Sachando's signature attractions: a pair of suspension bridges. Man-made structures dropped into deep mountain terrain often clash with their surroundings, but the twin bridges linking Hyangbong and Yeonjibong peaks blend into the landscape with surprising grace. Two pedestrian suspension bridges — 39 meters and 22 meters long respectively — hang at a nerve-testing angle above the void. Step onto either one and the sheer rock face plunges straight down beneath your feet; every slight sway draws shrieks from the crowd, ratcheting up the tension with each step.

After crossing the suspension bridges, the descent back to the starting point follows the route toward Geumpyeong Port rather than the Deukguksa approach — a straightforward downhill walk. Around the port, a cluster of small cafes, raw-fish restaurants, grilled-meat joints and Chinese eateries offers plenty of options for refueling. Visitors cooling down over an iced coffee or a bowl of sweet red-bean shaved ice wear the unmistakable look of people who are thoroughly content.

Even as a day trip, Sachando leaves a lasting impression. The ferry engine growls as the pier falls away. Watching the island recede into the distance, the memory of the hard climb already begins to soften. Sachando rewards those who push past the fear underfoot with scenery worth every ounce of effort — and it keeps drawing hikers back.

Travel notes

Two ferry routes serve Sachando, and the right choice depends on your itinerary. For a focused visit to the suspension bridges and Oknyeobong, the best option is to depart from Gaochi Ferry Terminal in Tongyeong and arrive at Geumpyeong Port on the island's southeastern side. On weekdays the Gaochi–Geumpyeong service runs every two hours; on weekends and during the high season (March through November), additional vessels are added on the hour to handle higher demand. The one-way crossing takes about 40 minutes. Once you disembark, the trailhead is within easy walking distance of the pier — no other transport needed.

If you are planning the full traverse — from Jirimangsan through Bulmosan, Gamabong and on to Oknyeobong — another option is Yongampo Pier in Hail-myeon, Goseong-gun, South Gyeongsang Province. The Pungyangcarferry from Yongampo reaches Naeji Port on the island's northwestern side in about 20 minutes. Tickets for the Gaochi service can be booked through the Korea Shipping Association's official passenger-ferry reservation website; the Yongampo–Naeji route is bookable through the Pungyangcarferry official website.