That afternoon we head to YongPyong's crest, to a trail that's been bulldozed into the ridge to create a scenic top-to-bottom run.
The scenic run is rather narrow and lined by a severe chain-link fence to keep skiers from dropping off the edge. The pinched run does not discourage snowboarders from sitting down in the middle and pulling out their cell phones. Others talk while skiing. Occasionally, men pull over and have a smoke and talk on their phones. Where some gather, more gather. It's like watching a blood clot forming. On the way downhill I see a ski patroller, a lonesome anticoagulant, standing over a snowboarder, blowing his whistle in the wind.