Together to Erzurum

We continued our journey eastward towards Erzurum. Life on the road with someone else becomes a journey different than the one travelled alone. Instead of various sights and interactions becoming the highlights of the day, the highlight is the fact that it is shared. The sights themselves take a backseat, and sharing your thoughts about them become the memories you keep.

We left Erzincan with a couple of climbs ahead of us. All of them gentle enough to keep up conversation, with some occasional sections with larger gradients. Those more intense climbs we would take at our own pace, meeting up again at the top, as it is not enjoyable for either of us to climb them at the other one's pace. One might be inclined to forego the detours from the highway to avoid those climbs, and I still have to resist that urge every once in a while, but the sights are always worth it.

That first climb was a cloudy one. The sky looked might angry, and it seemed that at any point it might start raining, but we were lucky enough (and I have been lucky with the weather for a long time now) to be slared a downpour. Sometimes little gaps in the cloudcover would allow the sun to shine through and illuminate the world in a way I find the most beautiful of all: dark skies and diffuse lighting in the distance, and shafts of light that pierce the clouds nearby. The grass becomes a vibrant green, and the metal dome and ornaments of the occasional mosque would reflect that golden sunlight towards our eyes.

As we sat up camp that first night it finally started to rain, and we were able to enter the hastily erected tents with clothing that was only slightly wet. That night the rain continued and was driven by fierce winds, but we were able to sleep relatively comfortably. The next day we saw that the surrounding mountains were covered with a fresh layer of snow, while the soil around us had turned to a sticky mud. We got into a couple of fights with said mud the days after. The "peanutbutter mud", as it is nicknamed by cycling tourists, sticks easily to the tires and clogs up the fenders. Add a bit of fibrous grass and dried leaves and you suddenly understand why you can make houses out of the stuff. Wheels stop turning when enough of it has gathered in the fenders and you gain a couple of centimeters in height as it sticks to your shoes. Every time we would find some sticks or stones (or just used our hands) to clean it all out, and although not entirely unaffected, cracking some jokes kept us in a good mood.

The mountains in eastern Turkey have their ridges oriented east to west, and there are not many roads here. The highways are situated in the valleys, and although one can occasionally escape them, one will have to return to them at some point. That second day we did just that: return to the highway, climb a little mountain, return to the highway, then leave it again for a nice resting place. We had more altercations with the mud, entirely preventable, and joked about our stupidity to once more keep the spirits up. Personally I was visited several times by mice the last couple of days (no idea why my companion was spared the visits) and had them chewing through the bottom of some of my bags. Luckily for me they were not the ones that need to stay very waterproof. The first time one of them ran over my inner tent I got the bejeebus scared out of me, and I think I can thank them for some tiny holes in said inner tent, but that is a worry for later.

A last stretch of highway brought us to Erzurum. It rained a little bit, but nothing to complain about. In fact the entire ordeal was another visit from lady luck: we had planned to arrive in Erzurum on a sunday, and take a restday on monday. And monday would, as we saw in the weather forecast, entail an entire day of rain.

A restday in Erzurum

As always we had lots of little chores to do: washing the clothes, stocking up on food (of the more luxurious kind), writing, reading, cleaning kit, calling friends, and taking care of the bikes. My cycling buddy even had some leathercare product with him, so alongside all of the above I could give my saddle the care it deserved for carrying my ass all this way. Time goes by quickly on these days, but there is ample time to relax as well! We awoke on monday expecting rain, but were surprised instead by white rooftops outside of the hotel room's windows. It was snowing outside, and it would snow the entire day.

I made good use of the occassion by taking a walk outside. It was great to hear the snow crunching underneath my shoes once more, always reminding me of my childhood when the Netherlands still had winters with snow every year. I can happily report that I finally wore the boots I've been hauling around for the last five months that day. We checked the forecast again, and decided it would be a good idea to buy some more winter gear. So I am now the happy owner of a warm hat, and even managed to stock up on the hard-to-find alcohol fuel, just to be on the safe side in the cold weather.

The next morning we said our goodbyes. My friend would be travelling northward towards the coast, and I would be heading eastward to Kars. It has been an absolute blast these past two weeks! Through a snowy landscape I made my way west over the highway, which was mostly cleared of snow. In the first couple of kilometers I was showered with wet snow by a truck. The weather was cold enough to freeze it to my derailleur, giving me some issues with shifting. Not only that, but I managed to get some flats due to iron wire (embedded in big truck tires) laying on the shoulder of the highway.

I noticed the leak as I had left the highway for calmer roads, and felt dejected about the prospect of having to fix it in freezing temperatures with high winds. But I managed the repair rather quickly, and even managed to keep my hands relatively warm by continuously alternating between which hand was wearing a glove, and which hand was used for the tasks requiring a bit more dexterity. It gave me the confidence that I would be able to deal with the weather rather well.

After the fix I made my way over the icy roads, fresh powdered snow being blown over it by the wind. Progress was slow, the tires slippery, feet often touching the ground to prevent falling, and it didn't take long before I realised that I had to return to the highway. Mostly by walking, sometimes sinking up until halfway my shins in snow.

But the sights were truly incredible. A white mountainous landscape all around me, something I had never seen before. I found a nice place to camp, cleared the ground of snow and settled in for a cold night. The fabric of my tent illuminated rather brightly by the moon and the rays reflected in the snow.

The next two days I made my way eastward. I planned to forego my planned route because of the snow, keeping to the relatively calm highway next to the river Aras. The first day I saw the extent of the snowfall as the snow's thickness slowly diminished as I got further east. First I saw the stalks of harvested crops peeking out amongst the white again, and later saw the fields that were facing south free of snow again. The mountains didn't care, and remained powdered all the way.

After another ascent, veering away from the river Aras, the snow returned again on the land, but now amongst forests of coniferous trees. I enjoyed their presence on my way up, and as I reached the plateau that contained the city of Kars, I was greeted by four (five?) neatly arranged lenticular clouds. A good last sight of the day.

I've said many times on this blog that I noticed that the weather is getting colder, but I suppose that I can now assert that it is, simply, cold. To stay comfortable I need to change some of my routines. My showering is much more basic, I await the sun before exiting the tent, and I make sure I'm in my tent before the sun fully sets. I cook and have breakfast inside the tent, my legs and upper body comfortably in the sleeping bag.

The couple of interactions I had with truck drivers in this weather have been different as well. Most first feel the need to tell me I'm a bit crazy, but afterwards offer me tea and food. I've even had one offering me money! Sadly I have to keep the conversations short, in order to start cycling again before the cold is able to penetrate all of the clothing (my excuses to all readers versed in thermodynamics for my choice of words).

During the day I shelter from the wind during my breaks (as it feels a whole lot colder if there is wind), which are themselves a lot shorter than they used to be. And I find myself stripping and putting on layers a whole lot more than I used to do. Especially the gloves, thank god for the invention of those little convenient wriststraps, which come off at the first feeling of sweat, and go back on before they start to go numb from the cold. The nights themselves are a bit different as well. My sleeping bag is not really up for the task of keeping me warm by itself, so the thermal layers are now also my pyjamas. All of this writing is just to share my experiences, be assured that I'm rather comfortable so far, and am looking forward to crossing into Georgia!