In the last part, we left the campsite and hit the highway. Ahead of us loomed not just hills – but genuine peaks.
Here's the proof.
We had a very strong hope that we wouldn't have to climb up there – since there are smaller hills to the left. However, even the ones we had were already more than enough for us. I don't know how hard it is for the readers to correctly estimate the steepness of the climbs and the altitude above sea level. So you don't sweat it, I'll give you the numbers at the end.
To ride up here is already quite an achievement. On top of that, again, it couldn't go without noble, spirit-forging hardships. As you remember, we had already passed the test of Water (rain on the second day), Earth (mud on the third). Naturally, we couldn't do without air either. If anyone is observant, they probably noticed the faint silhouettes of windmills in the first photo. I hasten to assure you – they aren't standing there for nothing. Even though they weren't working when we rolled past, the wind was very, very decent. Eventually, it reached such a force that a bicycle going down a normal hill would practically come to a halt just from wind resistance!
Down a very steep hill, we managed to roll at 15-20 km/h, if pedaling – then 25, whereas usually from such hills you get 50! As for riding up gentle hills – the wind doesn't completely kill your efforts, it's just that the speed is super low. And the steep ones we walked up anyway.
Igor (the navigator) put forward a complaint that we were eating poorly, and therefore he was feeling a drop in energy. I didn't quite feel that myself. On the contrary, when I'm on the bike, I want to eat less during the day, but if I ditch sports, I gorge myself on all sorts of junk food. So I had plenty of energy, at least for now. Moreover, not only were Sergey and Maris constantly feeding us chocolates, but also in Gelibolu I had bought some glazed nuts at a store (took me a long time to remember the word). The nuts were not only tasty, but also funny – looking like monkey brains, though very small.
By the way, about the test of fire, which in theory is still ahead of us. Igor (the navigator) wittily noted that we had already had it – we couldn't find fuel for the stove. Even when we found some (gasoline), the test still continued – because on gasoline the stove smokes for the first 10 minutes until it warms up.
I decided to emulate Tyoma Lebedev and take a picture of a sign, especially since it was the first time I'd seen one like this in Turkey. The cow, by the way, is rather toned. Ours are more schematic.
This post is turning out to be made of some fragmented pieces of info, but oh well, I'll continue in the same vein. I remembered that at the campsite in the morning I climbed in to wash in cold water – there was no warm water by that time yet. Sergey changed his mind about taking a shower altogether when he found out it was cold. Even though it's not my first time toughening up like this (in Norway the water in the boiler was always running out), I was still very glad when, literally a minute after I got into the shower, the warm water started flowing.
By the way, in the shower (which was directly combined with the toilet) there was also liquid soap. The main thing was not to confuse it with the hygiene product for washing one's privates. In case anyone randomly doesn't know, eastern toilets usually consist of a hole in the floor and a small bucket of water, which you are supposed to use instead of toilet paper. And a special washing product – that's just chic.
We, as Europeans, didn't bother mastering the infidel method, and used toilets in the places where they had them. Toilet paper, however, was usually available, so we had a smooth run there (that pun came out bad).
Mosques in Turkey are like cell towers – so that grace is distributed evenly. And of course, so that believers can contact the heavenly office anytime and anywhere. By the way, on the towers of churches (and mosques too, I think) telcos often install cell antennas – this way you can combine business with pleasure and save money. Moreover, Islam treats technological miracles calmly and even with some enthusiasm – as long as it doesn't contradict the most essential dogmas. They say you can find huge half-wall LCD TVs in mosques. As for the loudspeakers, which muezzins use without a twinge of conscience to ease their labor, you already know about them.
The dude who took the photo, by the way, even though he was large in body and thus resembled a mobster, knew English, at least within the middle school curriculum.
If anyone still hasn't fully grasped our feat, here's some food for thought. During the climb, my GPS kept raising and raising the number on the altimeter, until an awe-inspiring 299 ± 17 meters appeared there, and Igor's (the navigator) was slightly lower. To my huge regret, I awfully stupidly lost all my tracks and waypoints, and won't even be able to tell you where exactly this height was, unless I find it on Google Maps.
Here Shchukin and I, rather than Sergey, had already caught our second wind and rolled along quite a bit until the end of the ride. Of course, we walked quite a lot too. Shchukin drew his vigor from his tantric system: "I always ride at the speed I want to". As for me, periodically I either surged ahead or fell behind, because I had to take a lot of photos and click around on my GPS, which is still dangerous and inconvenient to do on the go.
This, by the way, is the first edited photo on my blog! I stupidly just did an auto levels on it in Paint.NET. I always lack the time and desire for more, but hopefully, I'll get around to it someday. Overall, I like Shchukin's camera much better than my own, but there's something wrong with its light sensor, I think – often everything comes out too whitish. At least I don't have that. By the way, down on the right there seems to be a hotel, and above the lake birds are circling very cutely, if anyone can see them. I did, by the way, finally find the one surviving GPS track. And on it – exactly the most important data I could show you. Here it is. As you can clearly see, the road we were riding on, which leads to the town of Şarköy, really does pass right over the 300 m elevation.
Three cheers for the heroes!
