Downpour at Chuncheon: The Struggling Newbie
A rainy weekend morning dawned with puddles everywhere. The day of camping had finally arrived. Staring at the mountain of gear piled up by the front door, I was already hit with post-nut clarity from the get-go.
"Shit... this feels heavier than last time...."
My muscles from the previous camp were still sore, and now I had to do it all over again. I swallowed curse words as I barely lifted a box the size of my body with my trembling arms. Finally, I crammed all the camping gear into my beat-up old SUV, and as a last touch, loaded the rear seat with my worn guitar case.
"Alright, let's hit the road?"
I hopped in the car, set up the camera on the passenger seat this time, and hit record.
"Uh... hello. This is Han Areum, your consistent camping host."
My delivery was still stiff and awkward, but whatever. This face would cover for everything anyway.
"Oh? Come to think of it, this might be the first time I've greeted you with my real name. Anyway, yeah."
I had no idea what I was even saying. To hide the awkwardness, I hurriedly started the engine and pulled out.
"So, today... we're heading to the Chuncheon Auto Campground in Gangwon-do. Last time was rough wild camping, so this round I booked a spot with good facilities that's easy even for beginners. Probably gonna be some healing-focused camping."
I wrapped up the intro, slipped on my sunglasses naturally, and fired up my favorite punk rock playlist. The upbeat beat filled the car, and my body started moving to the rhythm on its own. Dum-chit, dum-chit. I wondered what the camera was capturing right now. Sunglasses-wearing beauty jamming to punk rock... not quite headbanging, but nodding along? Honestly, it was a pretty good shot, right? If I'd been a guy and the driver next to me looked like that, I'd have been staring in a daze. Faces really do fix plot holes, huh.
That was when it happened, sometime after driving and turning onto a mountain road.
Something in the bushes by the side path shook unnaturally.
What the—?
Suddenly, something burst out from the shaking grass. Pa-bat!
Before my brain could process it, my body reacted first.
"Waaah! Shiiit!! You crazy fucking boar bastard! If you're gonna die, die alone!!"
Screeech!
I yanked the wheel hard right on reflex, then whipped it left just before the car tipped. With the stench of burning tires, the vehicle skidded to a precarious stop on the road.
My heart was pounding like mad. Hearing my roar, that damn boar turned its head and stared right at me. Those eyes seemed to say, What's her problem? which pissed me off even more. It sauntered back into the bushes like nothing happened.
Oh shit, I shouldn't have sworn....
"...Whoa, that was close to disaster. But... honestly, drift was sick."
I belatedly remembered the camera was rolling.
"Ahem. Oh, there's the campground. Since I brought ingredients from home today, no detour to the mart."
After brushing off the incident, I crossed the campground and reached my reserved site.
The spot was prime real estate. A babbling stream tickled my ears right next door. The little bridge over it added to the vibe. Aside from another killer spot straight ahead, a small woods fully isolated it—no prying eyes. And I could park right next to the site. Perfect privacy. The ultimate camp spot.
I stepped out and scoped the surroundings. Flawless.
Okay, set up the camera before unloading gear.
For reasons I couldn't fathom... it had to capture me grunting and hauling stuff from start to finish. With a wry smile, I set up the camera first. I positioned it to catch the whole scene and checked the framing.
"Hmm, good enough."
I parked in front of the camera again and started unloading. As expected, grunts and shaky legs. Hauling awkwardly in the chilly weather had sweat beading up anyway.
"Phew. Gear's all down, so let's pitch the tarp first?"
"See, the wind's coming from the stream side, so pitch it low here to minimize resistance. And the pegs...."
I explained as I pitched the tarp like a pro, then hammered the pegs into the ground. Thud, thud, thud! Dull hammer strikes echoed.
"Argh, shii...! Why won't it go in? Ground frozen already?"
Blame game on the dirt—I scooped a handful. Hmm, soft and perfectly moist, ideal for pegs....
"Ahem... m-maybe rocks under the surface...?"
Embarrassed, I fake-coughed. Couldn't show weakness failing a peg on camera.
"Hraaah...!"
Whack, whack!
The brutal peg battle ended, and everything flowed smoothly after. I had to redeem my pride here. Camera? Forgotten long ago.
Poles up, skin on, strings taut to pegs. A perfectly angled tent stood before me. I stretched with a satisfied exhale.
Ahh, this is it.
That's when the red blinking record light caught my eye in the corner of my vision.
Gasp. Right, should've explained while doing it....
Too late—job done. Couldn't repitch now... Just roll with it. Claim ASMR concept? I consoled myself with nonsense logic.
I unfolded the camp table and chair slickly, surveyed, and grinned.
"Phew, site setup complete. Lemme throw on an outer layer. Ignore sweat in this weather, and boom—cold incoming."
I grabbed a thick winter windbreaker from the car.
More time left than expected.
Pitched too fast? Coffee and zoning wouldn't fill footage.
Need... something extra to show.
Glancing around, my car—with the gear I'd just worn—caught my eye.
There we go.
Genius idea, even by my standards—I slapped my knee. Grinning, I walked back to the camera.
"Got time to spare, so... I've got a car-camping tent and tarp in the vehicle? Great starter for newbies—let's set it up."
I even pitched the car tent on the vehicle. Tarp up, trunk wide for connection. Folded rear seats flat for sleeping space.
"Pheww, whaddya think? Vehicle tent's simpler than it looks. Throw a blanket, instant cozy bed."
Tent on car done, I plopped in the camp chair, fired up a mini stove for coffee. Stream babbling nearby, leaves rustling in the wind.
"Hear that? Just these sounds calm the soul."
Then, across the bridge, a sleek EV pulled into the matching prime spot. A pretty woman stepped out, spun with a selfie stick, filming.
"Wow! You see this view? Amazing!"
YouTuber? High energy. Should I amp up like that?
I watched her bustle, then opened my book.
But Im Nana was already hooked on camping.
"We've been grinding hard lately. Feels like I need some healing."
[Hmm, if Nana says so.... But first outdoor shoot for us—okay?]
"Totally! I'm going solo!"
[Whaaat?!]
Imagining herself sipping warm tea alone in nature amid Nana's manager's shock.
"No worries. I can handle it solo. Researched plenty. Got it? Weekend trip—plan accordingly!"
She hung up abruptly and dove into a camping gear site. Watched newbie recs, filling her cart.
"Solo trip, don't need tons. Essentials only."
Checkout done, she lay in bed fantasizing solo camping, excitement building.
"Heehee. Can't wait... gonna be awesome... mmm...."
And weekend morning.
[Really solo? At least take someone for gear and directing....]
"Ugh...! Told you, fine. Others do it solo."
[But they have experience....]
"Oops, gotta roll! Text on arrival!"
Click. Another hang-up. Heart racing, Nana hopped in her car.
"Everyone~ Camping time! Teased it on channel, right? So pumped!"
Back to pro broadcaster mode, explaining smoothly to camera.
"Reason I jumped into camping suddenly?"
She paused, then earnestly:
"Been burnt out, but saw this one camp vid by chance—gave me huge courage. Raw, doing what they love. Looked so cool. Wanna show my real self like that."
Nana brimmed with drive. Soon arrived, finished opening shots.
"Gonna pitch my tent!"
But reality ≠ video. Tent assembly trickier. Poles wouldn't fit right.
"Uh, huh...? Not here? This way?"
Poles slipped, collapsed; skin tangled. Sweat poured.
Mid-struggle, sunny sky turned stormy. Cold, humid gusts hit.
"What now... rain? Tent not even up...."
Panic shifted her cheer to whimper.
Plop-plop-plop. Fat drops fell. Then torrent blinded vision.
Despair hit; soaked, head down.
Nice—rain for ambiance. Dry under perfect tent and tarp, reading book. Chamomile tea steaming in copel.
"Ahh~ This is camping, healing. Viewers, whaddya think? Wanna try?"
Blowing on hot chamomile, enjoying tarp rain patter.
...Or so I thought.
Across the bridge, that EV spot's woman stood drenched and forlorn.
What's her deal? No tent, just standing?
Zoomed in: tangled skin and poles at her feet. Grabbed pole stubbornly, but rain-slippery hands fumbled.
I watched, thinking not my problem, tried ignoring.
No need to meddle. Help strangers these days? Labeled weirdo easy.
Back to book, but unease nagged. Shivering wet, yet persistent. Grunting to rebuild stuck in my mind.
Finally, deep sigh, closed book. Grabbed raincoat, umbrella, headed out.
"...Damn. Shoulda ignored."
Old-school campers can't ignore a newbie struggling.