The Flyin' Liz Ryen

When it was snowing sideways and daylight lasted for 6 hours, I decided that I needed to buy a plane ticket to a hot place. Once upon a time I saw a pretty cool picture of Turkey, so that was good enough for me. Seven months later I was not disappointed.  6 Aug 2011- Good grıef, where do I even start?! So far the biking in Turkey ıs super easy, the cars gıve me a WIDE berth and a polite little honk to let me know they are comıng up behind me. This almost made me pee myself the first time it came from a big lorry, but now I find myself appreciating the not so subtle heads up. There isn't very much traffic on the main roads so the biking is relaxing, but this is not the way it started.  I flew into Istanbul then caught a connecting flight into Kayseri, a smaller city in the center of Turkey. A picture of the rock formations in Cappadocia area was the whole basis for me traveling to Turkey so I thought I would start there. I landed, and went to the baggage claim to wait...

9 Aug 2011 The night before I left Goreme, the hotel owner asked if I wanted to drive out to a viewpoint to watch the sunset. Not wanting to miss out on a potentially fabulous experience (the sunset of course) I immediately said yes. I walked out the front door of the hotel and there he was. Black hair billowing in the breeze as he sat astride his scooter. Thankful I wore pants, I jumped aboard. The roar of all 50cc's straining against a maxed out weight capacity was music to my ears as we buzzed up windy cobblestone roads and sandy washes to the overlook. We made it just as the sun was dropping below the hills. Suddenly the sandstone took on all the colors of a sunset and the landscape eclipsed the sky with it's vibrant show of light and shadow. We took the scenic way back. Instead of riding the roads, we took the scooter up and down rocky dirt trails that would make me squeamish on a mountain bike.  Many times I offered to walk up steep sections, but no, no, I was assured...

11 Aug 2011 I rode my bike straight up out of the Ilhara Valley, and promptly descended back down on the most welcome and glorious downhill stretch of road that I had biked so far. Throughout the 6 miles that I biked that day I had stunning views of the Selime Monastery, one of the largest religious buildings in the Cappodocia region. The monastery is set into the side of the plateau and lies within a honeycomb of  hundreds of smaller rooms carved out of the rock.  I stopped for lunch at a small restaurant by the river to fortify myself after my long ride. I started talking to one of the owners there, and not only did he let me camp in the grass on the side of the restaurant, but he said he would be my tour guide to the monastery. When we arrived the gates were closed, but my smooth talking tour guide slipped us through and we had the whole site to ourselves. As we walked up ramped leading to the inner chambers my guide explained that caravans would seek refuge here, so...

3 Aug 2011 This morning I biked into Konya. It felt epic. Not because of traffic or (for once) heat, but because I had no idea where I was going. As I neared town I went through enough round-abouts that I completely lost my sense of direction.  Eventually I found myself at the Shrine of Rumi, the Sufi poet. Around 1245 he withdrew to a monastic life, wrote poetry, and developed the Whirling Dervish Dance. The Whirling Dervishes wear white gowns to symbolize their death shrouds and tall brown hats to symbolize their tombstones. They start to slowly turn, reaching one hand down towards the earth showing the connection to material life. The other hand extends upwards symbolizing the relationship to god. As they spin, the Dervishes relax into a meditative state, surrendering themselves to an inner peace and connection with god. The ceremony is completed with a reading from the Qu'ran. The Shrine was a beautiful place, and now a popular pilgrimage site. Inside there were relics fr...

   5 August 2011 When there is no plan, each day is full of opportunities. I decided that I would head south towards the Mediterranean coast. On the way there is an Archeological Site called Sagalassos. The ride was hot, dusty dirt roads full of construction traffic, and steep winding downhill. By the time I got into the valley below the ruins I was delirious with heat, but all signs pointed up, up, up.    After a quick lukewarm water break, I oozed myself back onto my bike and started the long uphill grind. The road climbed above the valley floor, climbed up into the surrounding hills, climbed to the top of the ridges, and still no sign of the ruins. By now it was the hottest part of the day without  a speck of shade on the climb. I was mashing my pedals down to gain a little bit of up. I was standing, sweating, grunting out loud, and beetles were going up the road faster than I was. I gave in, I pushed my bike, and pushed, and pushed. Hours dribbl...

6 Aug 2011 After leaving Sagalassos I was thinking I would just camp by the side of the road in the grass just above the town. This was a good plan. But when I found the perfect spot, the ground was full of goat heads, sharp rocks, and thorns. I had just bought my new tent, my really cool one person lightweight spiffy neato tent (the MSR Hubba) and the thought of ripping the bottom apart on thorns was too much for me. I convinced myself that I would find a better spot a little farther down, which of course I did, in someone’s yard. This would have been a much less stressful night if I had asked to spend the night in that person’s yard, but it was dusk, I felt like I had heat stroke, and the thought of dealing with the language barrier right then and there was just too much for me. So quietly and slowly I pushed my bike down into a lush, grassy orchard. I could barely see a building through the trees and I planned to be out early in the morning. That night I moved in ...

7 Aug 2011 I found a beautiful hotel, Embassy Pansion for 40 TL per night, with a fenced in courtyard where I could dump my bike. I felt like I needed a little alone time away for the bicycle. I had a puffy rash on my legs and feet from cycling in the heat, and had managed to sunburn my back through my shirt the day before. I felt like I was wearing too much clothing and my head had been aching for two full days despite drinking gallons of juice and water. I needed a vacation.   Fortunately Antalya is the place.   The Mediterranean is blue green, the sunbathers are out in force, and every street corner sells fresh squeezed orange juice. Kayleci, the historic old town of Antalya has narrow winding streets of cobblestone and Ottoman style houses where the second floor overhangs the first. The town is full shops and little markets selling souvenirs, spices, and fresh fruit.   I went immediately to a clothing store and bought a tank top. For the first time in Turkey, ...

 After my standard breakfast of tomatoes, cheese, olives, and bread (most always included in your hotel room) I decided to catch the bus to Myra. I took one last cold shower and forced myself into the blazing sun for the short but oh so long hot ride to the bus station. So far I had ridden my bike very little and my bike had ridden the bus very much. I saw no reason to change this, as I was on vacation after all. The Myra archaeological site is a sheer cliff face riddled with ancient tombs and carvings. I thought that the tombs were the only thing to see there, but just to the right there was a beautiful amphitheater with seating for thousands, and thousands came to see it. Bus load after bus load of tourists poured into the site as the afternoon wore on. Even full of people, Myra’s tombs and stone work was massively impressive. Every nook and cranny was full of giant blocks carved over ever inch with theater masks and scrollwork.   I wandered for hours, forgetting the...