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Looking down the mast of a construction crane / Courtesy of Ron Bandun |
By Ron Bandun
Workers across the world today are celebrating May Day, also known as International Workers' Day, by taking the day off from their labor and leaving worksites empty. Meanwhile, I'm celebrating a related but very different holiday.
Back in 2013, I took the opportunity to visit construction sites and climbed two construction cranes while the workers were away.
The first site was Gajaeul New Town, a massive apartment redevelopment complex in Seodaemun-gu. Now complete, back then it was a huge dirt pit. I crawled in through the tall gap under a construction gate and climbed a baby crane only about four stories tall. As I was coming down, from across the excavation site probably almost a kilometer away, I saw a worker exit a shack and spot me, but he was helpless to stop me as I ran and skidded out under the gate.
Next I visited a crane at the site of Ewha Womans University Industry-Academia Cooperation Center, up on a shoulder of Mount An near where Geumhwa Tunnel passes. About eight stories high, this crane gave me a fantastic view of the city as well as the blossom-covered mountainside, and I stayed up there through sunset.
Before you criticize me for my risk-taking behavior, let it be known my friends spent that same day at a labor protest downtown getting doused with police pepper spray. Craning, when done responsibly, is certainly safer than that.
I first thought to climb construction cranes by observing other urban explorers around the world. I solicited advice on crane safety and security, knowing any mistake made on a vertical adventure would likely be my last. Fortunately I have prior work experience around construction sites and my human factors training has given me an affinity for dangerous machines, so I seem to have the capacity for it.
My very first ascent was in 2010, when I climbed a crane at a landmark building under construction near Dongdaemun Market. I waited until about 3 a.m., hoping not to run into any workers working late or coming in early. I dressed in dull grey clothes to camouflage with the sky, plus a bike helmet to protect my head from any unseen overhead obstacles. As I ascended, the lights and noises of the night market played up from below, keeping me company.
It was a lot harder than I'd imagined, not so much physically but psychologically. I had to stop climbing every few levels to rest, but also to hug the metal rungs and convince myself we weren't tipping over.
"Someone makes this climb every day, someone makes this climb every day," I repeated between whimpers.
Finally, I reached the turntable separating the vertical tower from the horizontal jib, which is like crawling through the inside of a big knuckle. Climbing a crane, it doesn't feel like you're climbing away from the city far below you ― it feels like you're climbing up into the city, seeing it in person for the first time.
Once on top, there was a flat metal mesh floor where I could catch my breath. The operator's cab was unlocked, which they usually but not always are. Sitting in a bucket seat gave the biggest sense of normalcy this high up. I opted not to climb to the apex, staying where it was safe until it was time to climb down.
After that, I started noticing cranes everywhere, but there were too many to climb them all. I climbed a new crane every few months, partly because it was the only way I could motivate myself to get enough exercise.
One of the most memorable cranes was at the National Museum of Modern and Contemporary Art in 2012. The museum was having a promotional campaign advertising itself as the "Naked Museum," with gigantic cutouts of famous art subjects such as Mona Lisa posing nude. It was enough to tempt me over the fence, with the goal of maybe posing nude myself in a show of irony. But I was too tense once I ascended, and while admiring the view overlooking Gyeongbok Palace and Cheong Wa Dae, I forgot about my goal. Probably for the better.
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A view inside the jib of a construction crane / Courtesy of Ron Bandun |
Craning is best done at night for concealment, but I began challenging myself to make the climb in daylight, partly for the logistical challenge and partly to get different pictures from others doing the same around the world. There's definitely more risk of encountering workers or being noticed, but it's only ever happened that one time in 2013 and I got away clean.
When I climbed a crane on Dongguk University campus, people were coming out onto the rooftop garden of an adjacent building, some looking straight at me but never seeing me. Another time, near Hongik University I climbed a crane at the Hotel the Designers site, while below me, a metal concert raged on inside Prism Live Hall; the enthusiastic metalheads gathered in the street below gave me the sense I wasn't alone.
My latest conquest was back in 2017, the AK& department store construction site over Hongik University Station. I hadn't climbed a crane in a few years, but that site was personal to me. It represented the gentrification of the Hongdae area and I saw it as a hostile invader to an area once known for its underground culture so I had to conquer it.
I climbed that crane at least three times, returning to take in the high-level view of the neighborhood. Access to the construction site was a joke, with wide open gaps under the gates and plenty of fences easy to climb. I suspected they knew someone had climbed the crane after my first attempt, as they had hung "Caution ― Slippery Floor" signs around the base of the crane as if to discourage me. But the joke's on them ― there are no actual "floors" anywhere on a crane, just ladder rungs and see-through surfaces made of metal mesh. Although of course it is incredibly to climb any metal structure when wet.
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A sign warns of slippery floors on a construction crane, which has no actual floor surfaces, slippery or otherwise. / Courtesy of Ron Bandun |
Others climb taller cranes and go for ridiculous stunts. Explorers around the world have done some incredibly stupid things up on cranes, sometimes even costing their lives. I've come through it all safe, partly because I try to do it as safely as possible, and partly due to sheer luck. Climbing cranes isn't for everyone, just us recreational trespassers as well as the brave workers who deserve more than just a one-day holiday every year.
Ron Bandun is a self-described "anarchaeologist."