Karadeniz

Cory Smetana
Crossing the border into Turkey reminded me of the first day of school.  I had a small sense of the curriculum and I was really anxious to get started on this large, daunting country.  But I thought to myself: Will it be difficult?  Will I enjoy it?  What will my teacher be like?  At first I could only answer the third question.  My teacher, Kellen, told me a couple months ago that we would be travelling through the middle of Turkey.  After some back and forth emails with other cyclists and more research we decided to follow the Black Sea coast (Karadeniz in Turkish) the entire length from Georgia to Istanbul.  We had 1400 kilometers and 13 days to get to Istanbul, where major changes and new surprises awaited all.  It would be a very difficult ride, but one we hoped well worth the effort.

We crossed into Turkey and found the road immediately pressed against the sea by 100 meter tall cliffs.  The smooth, flat freeway led us to our first night’s stay in the city of Hopa.  The impression I got of Hopa was that of a typical shady, uninviting border town – this could be due to the fact that we did not yet speak any Turkish or that it was also the scene of the first fisticuffs I’ve seen on the trip.  Either way we were ready to move further along and dive into the country.  The next evening we spent in a much more welcoming city, Trabzon.

Karadeniz

It was a long and tiring day of riding, but after 170km we made it into Trabzon.  We were 50/50 on camping along the coast or biking into the city to find a hotel.  I’m glad we entered the city because we got some of the nice amenities you appreciate so much more on a trip like this including a hearty meal, shower, and a real bed.  The hotel was a block away from the main city square, swarming with people because it was recently remodeled to host the European Youth Olympic Games (lucky us).  We slept like rocks that night.  That was until 3:30am when Kellen and I were startled by the overpowering loudspeaker located (unbeknownst to us) right outside our window.  We looked at each other, very confused, and then went back to sleep when the noise was over.  We knew we had returned to a Muslim country and had heard the call to prayer before, but why on earth was it waking the city in the middle of the night?  We soon realized it was the middle of Ramadan and the call was to wake up any followers so that they could eat before sunrise.

Check your hotel room for minarets during Ramadan

As we moved through the country we began to notice that many restaurants and markets were closed during the day and the call to prayer seemed to be here, there, and everywhere.  The prayer calls provided a cool atmosphere and interesting addition to our riding, but the lack of daytime food did at times prove problematic.  We made sure to pack our lunch each day for fear that we would stumble upon closed markets or restaurants.  Lucky for us, the Black Sea coast of Turkey is particularly known for hazelnuts and I will tell you that hazelnut-butter and jam sandwiches take “PB&J” to a whole new level.  To hit our daily kilometerage we also found ourselves finishing riding around sunset, so we could partake in the same breaking of fast as everyone else.  I always wondered to myself, “Who is hungrier: Kellen and I who rode 150km with lunch and a couple snacks or the Turks who have not eaten since sunrise?”  Given the pace of everyone’s eating (including us), it remains an open question.

Hazelnut butter is amazing

The first five days of riding in Turkey were fast and fantastic.  We knocked out on average 150km per day and felt great.  We sped through tunnels and dodged big city traffic while carrying along on our flat, smooth coastal freeway.

Great riding along the coast

Even if it was a little stormy

And so we arrived in our half-way destination city of Samsun.  I mentioned before that Kellen had emailed a few other cyclists to get a sense of our route through Turkey.  At the time he kept saying, “Oh man, Turkey is going to be beautiful!”   I think at some point prior to Samsun he reread the emails in more detail, because now all he kept saying was “Oh man, get ready… this is going to be TOUGH!”  At Samsun, our fast coastal freeway continued straight inland to the capital Ankara and Istanbul.  We, instead, turned directly north to follow the coast along smaller roads to the port city of Sinop and eventually west all the way to Istanbul.  This was the 800km section that Kellen knew would be difficult.  No more wide shoulders, tunnels, and artificially supported roads; it was all rugged, hilly coast traversed by a road that skirted bluffs, wound up, over, down, and around each cove, and was littered with grades almost 400% steeper than the maximum highway grade in the US.

The day before we hit Samsun we even ran into two women cyclists on the road who were also considering the same route.  “Oh, I heard it is tremendously beautiful,” they said.  “But you’re going to try to do that in 8 days?!  Did you know that if you summed up all the climbing you will be doing from Sinop to Istanbul, it is the equivalent of climbing Mt. Everest twice?”  Gulp!  Almost 60,000 feet of climbing!  That night Kellen and I looked at the Google Earth elevation profile to see what we had in front of us.  The diagram that looked similar to a seismograph during a massive earthquake.  We shared a quick nervous look and then thought better of it.  “It’ll be worth it,” we both said, “and plus, we can handle anything, we’re Kyzylkum Desert veterans.”

Check out that 1,000ft seismograph - I mean, elevation profile

For comparison, here's Ann Arbor to Lansing. Watch out for that 100ft hill

The next few days of riding were insane.  The best comparison in the US would be riding the rugged coast of the Pacific Northwest.  Strips of land would jut out into the sea and the road would rise 1000ft, peak, and head straight back down.  In between these peaks were beautiful towns and beaches in the coastal coves and valleys.  The physical exhaustion was beyond description, but it was even mentally draining as well.  We could see our road along the coast, complete with peaks and steep climbs.  The climbing was so continuous that we began to call it “the usual.”  Halfway up one of the climbs we passed a group of construction workers.  One of the men jumped out of his truck and made his way to the front of the group to encourage the passing Kellen.  He said, “You have a long way to go… just relax!”  Kellen laughed at the unexpected English phrase and responded that he would gladly take his advice.  We relaxed, joked, climbed on, and eventually ate up the coast one day at a time.

We'll let the signs do the talking

Up hill and over hill

And lucky for us, “the usual” meant more than just the hardest climbing of the trip.  The scenery was absolutely breathtaking.  At every turn we could see for miles along the coast.  Each small town was quaint and friendly.  The road was often so tight along the cliffs that landslides had taken out whole lanes, but it didn’t matter because we barely shared the road with any cars.

Giving the coast a big hug

Caution: Lane Ends (very abruptly)

Pleasant towns

And most nights we asked the locals where to camp and were directed towards the nearest beach.  How’s that for falling asleep to some sounds of nature.  It was incredible and in the end worth every meter of climbing.

Typical morning view from the tent

Absolutely worth the effort

We even got to stay in some beautiful coastal towns along the way.  Four days from Samsun we were making decent time and decided to take a half rest day in the pleasant city of Amasra.  This is a small city located on a peninsula originally fortified by the Byzantines.  We arrived at 3pm and immediately went to the beach to even our tans and rest our legs in the Black Sea.  After swimming, we returned to the hotel to shower.  Kellen went first and also needed to wash his clothes.  Typically a “Kellen shower” is nearly 15 minutes; add 10 more to this if he is washing his clothes.  Nearly 15 minutes into his shower, Kellen had not realized that the bathroom’s drain was plugged and water was instead draining out the centimeter-tall tile lip encompassing the bathroom.  Water began to flow under the door and into the entrance to our room, then into the hallway and down the stairs that descended into the street.  If you’ve ever seen the movie Home Alone, it was pretty much the exact equivalent of any scene with The Wet Bandits.

After watering the street for 5 minutes the hotel owner came running up the stairs and began banging on the door.  I was lying on the bed and told him to come in.  He stormed in the room and burst open the bathroom door.  Kellen was quick to grab his family jewels and gave the man a confused look.  He pointed to the hallway and both looked to see water rushing down the stairs.  Kellen assessed, “Hmm, yeah that’s not good.”  The owner pulled the plug and went back to smoking his cigarette while he stormed out of the room.  I sat on the bed laughing hysterically at the whole affair.  The next day they even had mops ready to attack our soggy room after we left.  Sometimes we cause quite a stir when we visit these cities.  After this we went out to visit the city of Amasra and old fortress and took loads of photos.  We followed this by a delicious seafood dinner along the water.  It felt like we were on a normal vacation for the first time.

Beautiful Amasra

After Amasra the hilly terrain slowly began to stretch out.  We were able to climb much easier and knew we would make it to Istanbul on time.  The only issue to slow us down now was my bike.  It took an absolute beating from Kazakhstan and never recovered.  I had now broken 17 spokes in Turkey including 7 broken spokes in one day alone.  We repaired it a few times in cities along the way, but the back wheel was not holding up.  One day was so bad that the tire even started rubbing on the frame and I feared needing to hitch another ride like I did in Kazakhstan.  We pulled my bike over and worked on the spokes until it was alright to ride until the next city, where we were lucky to find a bike shop.  I had my wheel fixed one final time and it somehow survived to Istanbul.

Mechanics like this got me to Istanbul

The final day it was dawning on me that my end was near and that Kellen had new beginnings ahead of him.  We entered the gargantuan metropolis that is Istanbul and crossed the Bosphorus into Europe through easily the most jam-packed traffic of my trip.  As we crossed I congratulated Kellen on cycling across the largest continent in the world and got excited about his prospects for the second.  It felt great to complete such a task and arrive in a humungous city where I would see my brother take off onto his next leg with two of his close friends who I had the pleasure of meeting.

Are you ready to ride across the Bosphorus with us?

So, all in all, was it difficult and did I enjoy it?  Absolutely (to both).  And it wasn’t just Turkey I enjoyed; it was the entire two months I spent abroad with Kellen, Theo, and the many others we met along the way.  I would definitely do it all again.  I depart for home jealous of those joining Kellen on the European leg.  Good luck you guys!  And to Kellen, it was amazing traveling with you.  You’re a character and I don’t think I would have had nearly as much fun with anyone else.  So while you head into Greece remember: you have a long way to go, just relax!  Oh, and have a little bit of fun along the way.

Brothers in the Black Sea