When he was growing up in South Korea, outdoor recreation was not a central part of Wongi Kim’s life. He practiced Taekwondo and occasionally played golf with his dad, but recreating in the mountains was not something he really thought about. “All that changed when we moved to the U.S. and there was a whole lot more I could do and try,” says Kim. The 29-year old climber, fly fisher and mountain biker has since built a strong community and identity through time in the outdoors.
At the age of eight, Kim moved with his family to Alaska, where his aunt lived. It was Kim’s curiosity that got him hooked on sports like climbing and mountain biking — both of which he has done extensively in Alaska and around the United States. “I’ve always been a curious individual and I don’t ever and never felt like I needed to be the best or pro at anything,” Kim explains. “I just really wanted to try things.”
Around 2016, Kim got hooked on climbing. But not long after, he became very sick. Mysterious and painful G.I. symptoms began to deeply affect his daily life, and he lost over 30 pounds in a short amount of time. He struggled to find answers, partially due to stigma around illness, hospitals, and asking for help — but also due to multiple failures of the American healthcare system. After many months, Kim finally received a diagnosis and learned that he had ulcerative colitis, an inflammatory bowel disease that causes extreme pain and discomfort.
“Living with a chronic condition kind of limits of adventuring and restricts a lot of my activities,” says Kim. Ulcerative colitis is incurable, but can be managed by medication with trial and error and potentially mixed results. “For myself, and for my sanity, I have to keep things a bit realistic. But that doesn’t mean that I can’t go out there and have fun.”
In the early days of his diagnosis, climbing was one of the few things keeping Kim grounded. Training indoors at the rock gym felt accessible and gave him something to look forward to. “It kept me moving, kept me thinking about the things that I could do and could try,” he says. “And it kept my mind off the things that I couldn’t do. I found some good friends during that time.”
Since then, Kim has gone on many climbing trips and completed an impressive tick list, climbing trad, sport, and multi-pitch routes. But because of his condition, Kim had to be very picky about his climbing partners. “Climbing is very much a partner-reliant activity,” he says. “With my condition, I need a level of friendship — like a real close relationship — because I have things that I need to prioritize.”
Over the nearly ten years Kim has lived with ulcerative colitis, he has put a lot of thought into who he shares his condition with and how open he is about the struggles of the disease. “It is very much an invisible disease and disability,” he says. “I always question who I want to share that piece of information with because I don’t want anyone to ever think less of me.” Recently, Kim has been more open about his journey. During a particularly bad flare up in 2020 that landed him in the hospital, Kim took to social media to share more about his illness. “Once I did that, I met two climbers that I climbed with at the rock gym that lived with the same exact condition,” he says. “My perspective of them didn’t change — if anything, I had even more respect for them because they’re going through the same thing.”
These days, Kim has decided to take a small step back from adrenaline-based sports like climbing and mountain biking. Because of his health struggles, he has taken stock of what’s important to him and feels drawn to prioritizing slower-paced activities and time spent with his community and his fiancé. “The best thing for me has been having a solid group of partners,” he says. “It sucks to do it on your own — hurting, slogging. Everything gets made better with a solid partner or a group of friends.”
Looking ahead, Kim is most excited to spend time on the river, fly fishing. “It doesn’t require a ton of effort and I think a lot of it hangs on hope and a chance,” he says. The sport has a positive impact on his mental health — not only is it calm and meditative, the possibility of catching something special mirrors his own hope for his health. “A lot of fly-fishing hangs on hope and a chance,” he explains. “You don’t see the fish you’re trying to catch, but there’s always hope. I feel like that’s really good for me — I’m always hoping there’s a chance that I will get better, and fly-fishing fits into that.”
“It feels so funny to treat it like that, because I go out there and I freeze for eight hours,” he continues. “But there will be a chance I’ll catch a 30-inch unicorn fish in the Kenai River. There’s a chance, you know? I love that I can just keep going.”
Emily Sullivan is a photographer and writer focused on outdoor recreation, environmental wellness, and community empowerment. She is based on Dena’ina lands, where she can usually be found skiing, packrafting, or berry picking.
