Grand Canyon Temptation and Island Survival Miracles
Variety show god Ha Bong-seok PD's ultimate pitch: the Grand Canyon. Endless red rock canyons stretching out. A camper van parked against that majestic backdrop. And in front of it, thick barbecue ribs sizzling away. Just imagining it made my heart race. This was a camper's dream—no, a dream you couldn't refuse.
Ha Bong-seok PD didn't miss the flicker in my eyes. He flashed a leisurely smile and drove the wedge home.
"What do you think? Doesn't it pull at you? Plane tickets? Lodging? Gear? I'll handle it all. You just show up. Sound good?"
The devil's whisper tickled my ear. 'Yes, sounds great.' The words rose in my throat. But right then, a face flashed in my mind. The boss... my rock-solid partner who trusted me completely and spared no support. His warning rang like an alarm in my head.
'That's the danger zone. You have to hold firm in that moment.'
I snapped to attention. If I gave in here, I'd be Ha Bong-seok PD's slave forever, wandering the world in endless hardship. Sure, it might be fun... but not yet. I was a fledgling creator just sprouting my first shoots. I couldn't get swept away by a typhoon before rooting down.
I pinched my thigh hard to stay sharp.
"...I'll think about it."
"Huh?"
"It's too big a decision to make right now. I need to check with the company..."
I beat around the bush to signal my refusal. A shadow of deep regret crossed Ha Bong-seok PD's face.
"Aw, come on, why bother consulting? If we like it, we just do it."
"Still, there are procedures, right? Haha..."
I laughed awkwardly and looked away. Whew, that was close. A little more pressure and I'd have caved completely.
Just then, O Seokgyun returned from his break in the distance. He strode over and playfully smacked Ha Bong-seok PD's shoulder.
"Bro. Luring her again already?"
"Hey! 'Luring'? That's not the right word!"
Ha Bong-seok PD hopped like he was wronged.
"I just asked because Areum seems to love camping! Pure intentions! Right, Areum?"
"...Yeah, sure."
My half-hearted reply drew a tongue-click from O Seokgyun.
"Areum, watch out. Fall for that smiling face and you'll end up with nothing but bones. Look at me—kidnapped right after wrapping a movie shoot."
"Hey! You were having fun too!"
"You said you'd buy me drinks! Then suddenly you're calling for volunteers to an uninhabited island! You have no idea how shocked I was!"
Watching their bickering eased my tension a bit. Before I knew it, our break was over. The staff buzzed back into action. The camera's red light flicked on, and the slate clapped.
Clap!
Time to switch back to survival mode.
Ha Bong-seok PD, serious as ever, took his spot behind the camera. Okay, what now? Tent's up, sleeping spot secured. Next? Blank dread hit me. Uninhabited island—nothing but waves and wind.
I stood there blankly when O Seokgyun spoke up beside me.
"Areum."
"Yeah?"
"We need food first. Can't starve to death."
True. As Ha PD said, the production team would give us nothing but water. To avoid skipping dinner, we had to catch something.
"Right. Gotta catch whatever we can."
"I'll head to those rocks over there and set a crab trap. Fishing... honestly, no confidence. But a trap's pure luck."
He grabbed the crab trap from the production team. His back carried the weight of the family man. ...Or maybe just a hungry uncle's desperation. I'd filled up on pork soup, but he'd skipped breakfast for his schedule.
"Be careful. Those rocks are super slippery. Step on the moss and you're done."
"Don't worry. I've got action movie chops."
O Seokgyun waved confidently and headed to the shore. Now it was just me. What to do? Food's on him, so...
"Fire... let's make fire."
I scanned around. Empty. Just rocks, sand, and the fire steel in my hand. I headed toward the woods. Luckily, some dead branches littered the entrance. But why so damp? Oh yeah... recent rain?
I gathered twigs. And jackpot—a decent dead log. Damp too, but no choice.
"Alright, fuel secured."
Now to light it. I pulled out the fire steel from my pocket. Shiny metal rod—iron, magnesium, cerium. Scrape it, sparks fly. Theory's simple... in theory. Reality? Sparks don't ignite logs directly. You need tinder—super fine, flammable stuff.
Usually toilet paper, newspaper, dry leaves... but I had zilch.
"Leaves at least..."
I grabbed some from the ground. Damp. No way it'd catch.
"Sigh..."
A knife for feathersticks? Nope. Production gave just the fire steel. No blade, no scissors, nothing. Make fire like this? I felt the camera zooming on my grimace. They probably expected me to struggle, fail, and beg for matches or a lighter in humiliation.
'Dream on.'
Who am I? 15-year camping vet, Han Areum. No teeth? Use gums. No knife? Use a rock.
I spotted a good stone—rough surface, sharp edges, palm-sized.
"This'll do."
I wedged the log between my knees and scraped its surface with the stone's edge.
Scrape. Scrape.
The rough sound echoed by the sea. Wood shaved off into fine sawdust. Keep going. Outer damp layer peels, revealing dry innards as powder. This 'wood dust' makes killer tinder—huge surface area, ignites on tiny sparks.
After a while, a fluffy handful piled up.
"Phew... good enough."
I wiped sweat from my brow. Showtime. Held the fire steel close to the pile. Held my breath. Nail it first try for style points. Scraped hard and fast.
Spark!
Orange spark hit dead-on. Sizzle. Faint smoke rose, then a tiny red ember glowed.
Success. But no slacking—nurture it. Gentle breaths.
"Hoo... hoo..."
Ember grew, sipping oxygen.
"Hoo... hoo... whoa?! Ack! Cough!"
Damp inside too? Smoke choked me bad. Damn, embarrassing. Felt the staff's stares through the lens. But no quitting over shame. Carefully added thin twigs.
Crackle.
Fire spread. Thicker twigs, then more. Step by step. Soon, the bonfire blazed knee-high. Acrid smoke smelled like perfume. Warmth kissed my face.
"Done."
I looked up with a satisfied smile. Then—
"...Whoa."
Gasps all around. Camera guy, audio guy, even Ha Bong-seok PD with arms crossed. Jaws dropped.
Ha Bong-seok PD approached, incredulous.
"Areum... what are you?"
"Huh?"
"Making fire with a rock instead of a knife? In this humidity?"
"Oh..."
"Over ten years in variety... first time seeing a guest do that."
He seemed genuinely shocked.
"You from some remote village? Survival training? Man vs. Wild?"
The crew's fuss made my shoulders lift. This is why I camp. The thrill of pulling off the impossible.
"What, you think I became a camping YouTuber for nothing? Basics, heh."
Too cocky? Whatever, felt good. Then I overheard Ha Bong-seok PD to the camera guy.
"...Got that expression?"
"Yeah. Perfect close-up."
"Sweet. Episode 1 thumbnail sorted."
...Excuse me? I can hear you?
Anyway, fire's lit. Now warm up and wait for O Seokgyun. We sat around it, chatting idly.
"Seriously amazing. It actually worked."
"Areum, teach me sometime?"
Praise rained; mood soared. But...
'Why's he taking so long?'
Time dragged. Just drop a trap and return? Unease crept in. Uninhabited island. Slippery rocks, rough waves. Slip and fall? Drown...?
Worries snowballed. 'Gotta check.'
I stood—then a frantic shout from the shore.
"Areum!!!"
O Seokgyun's voice. He came sprinting. Weird form—too energetic for a fall. And something in both hands.
"Jackpot! Jackpot!"
As he neared, shapes clarified. Silver scales flashed. Flop, flop. Alive. Thrashing hard.
'...What?'
My eyes tricked me. Fish...? Big ones?
He skidded to a stop, panting but beaming like he owned the world. Raised his hands high.
"Look at these! Caught 'em!"
Adult-arm-thick fish, two of them. Dark back, silvery belly.
"Grunt...?"
The dream fish anglers crave—grunt. Two of them. Wait, how? No rod. Just a crab trap. And these monsters? Odds worse than lottery.
"O-oppa... how? Staged? This the dark side of real variety?"
Too unreal—suspicion first.
He hopped, offended.
"What? Don't jinx it! Totally real!"
"How? Trap? Whacked 'em with it?"
He spat excitedly.
"You should've seen it! Dropped the trap—felt caught on rocks. Figured fail, pulled it up..."
Eyes wide.
"Suddenly heavy! Yanked hard—and these guys flopping inside?!"
"......"
So... trap hits water, two blind grunts volunteer inside? Right as he pulls? Possible?
I eyed the camera guy. He nodded blankly.
"...Yeah. Filmed it—couldn't believe my eyes. Less than 10 seconds."
Whoa... insane luck. Must be ancestral blessings.
Ha Bong-seok PD approached, jaw slack.
"Whoa... air this, viewers'll call fake."
Dead serious worry.
"Too unbelievable. Trap drops, instant two grunts? 'Crew planted 'em' incoming."
Real variety's curse: too real looks fake. But O Seokgyun didn't care.
"Fake or not, we got 'em! Dinner's grunt! Haha!"
He shook them gleefully. True—caught is caught. Heavenly gift. Thought starvation; now premium sashimi.
Mouth watered. But... a snag hit me. Eyes from grunts to empty tent front. Then my empty hands.
'...Hold up.'
Do we... have a knife?
Production gave fire steel and copot. My pocket? Just lip balm. O Seokgyun? Empty-handed.
So... how to prep them?
"Um... oppa."
"Yeah? Sashimi time! Starving!"
He was already sipping soju with a slice in his head.
"Thing is... no knife?"
"...Huh?"
He froze.
"No... knife?"
"Yeah. Production didn't give one."
He glared at Ha Bong-seok PD, who shrugged mischievously.
"Said survival gear after missions. No knife yet."
"You...!"
O Seokgyun cut off mid-yell. Stared at the grunts. Fresh, scaly. Bare hands? Impossible. Scrape scales, gut, bone—need tools.
"Uh... grill whole?"
"Whole roast? This size?"
I shook my head. Small fish, sure—guts and all. But these? Guts burst bitter, undercooked innards, hygiene nightmare. And sacrilege for prime grunt.
"Then what? They'll die if we wait..."
He stomped anxiously. I was losing it too. Prime ingredients—uneatable. Torture.
'What now?'
Bushcraft stone knife? Risk hand injury—no gloves. Teeth? We're not starved primitives.
Eyed Ha Bong-seok PD. He watched, thrilled.
'Demon...'
He'd dangle a knife for some weird mission. But no choice. Pride aside—get the knife.
I approached with resolve.
"PD-nim."
"Yes?"
"Let's negotiate."
For grunt, I'd do push-ups topless again. Regret later. Hunger ruled now.
"Knife for a mission. You were gonna anyway, right?"
Ha Bong-seok PD's lips curled high.