Montana Day

A few highlights

So many things are constantly happening that I'm afraid I've fallen a bit behind in updates.  Here are a few highlights from the last week.

1. Hiking around the beautiful area of Goreme:
a. The Open Air Museum

b. Pigeon valley and the nearby Castle, guarding the Silk Road

c. Rose Valley

2. Successfully using public transportation to go to the underground city at Derinkuyu.

3. Seeing old friends (and meeting some new ones) in Ankara and getting a taste of their lives there.  Plus, getting to stay in a house with laundry facilities instead of a crowded hostel.  :)

4. Trying new foods (sometimes with the advice of people who know Turkish) including manti and ayran and always doners.

5. Visiting various museums

Ethnographic Museum

History of Anatolia Museum

Museum in Antalya

 6. Eating cherries...and having a seed spitting contest.

 7. Seeing the mountains and waterfalls around Antalya

 8. Seeing and experiencing parts of Turkey - it's very beautiful.

Sacajawea and Fairies

Today, for the first time since I was four, I climbed to the top of Sacajawea Peak.  Obviously, if a four-year-old Alana can make the climb, it's not too intense.  Nevertheless, it is a mountain.  More specifically, it's a mountain that I've been meaning to climb for a couple years now, and just have never had the time/energy/good weather for it.  However, with the beautiful fall we've been having, I finally managed to fit it in.



My legs started out in the lead.  They still believe that they should be my primary source of transportation and are a little bitter about the whole car thing.  They started off at a brisk pace, shouting encouragement to other parts of my body, "Come on guys!  This is great!  Only a couple miles!"

"Wait for us!"  shouted the heart and lungs, which, I think, are still not used to the altitude.  (Well, at least, it makes a good excuse.)

Some times when they needed a break, the lungs would start talking to the eyes: "Hey, do you see how beautiful it is?  You should convince the legs that you need to stop and take a picture."

"See?  Sooo pretty!"

However, the legs would often reply, "It looks about the same as it did when we stopped 10 minutes ago!  Plus, we'll see the same stuff on the way down.  You can stop then, if you still want."

So then the lungs would talk to the brain: "Hey, ya know, aren't we feeling a little dehydrated?  Tell the legs they'll work better if we stop for water."  *pant, pant*

Of course, whenever the legs were convinced to stop, they realized that, hey, they were a little tired too.  Then the brain would have to kick in and say: "Our goal is the top!  Keep going!  Further up, further in!" and the legs would comply.

Eventually the body started cooperating better as the legs began to realize that they weren't quite used to this whole always-up-hill thing.  (Israel has a lot of hills...but none of them are quite this long...)

There was snow, of course, and, of course, most of it was on the trail, probably by virtue of the trail being more sheltered from the wind and sun.  Or because people had trampled it to ice when it was fresh.

I wasn't complaining, though.  I think this is the first snow I've seen (except from a distance) or touched in well over a year.  Pretty exciting.


The last stretch was brutal as the slope increased and endurance lagged...but with the top in sight, who could stop to rest?

And the view was worth it.  Many of my favorite mountain ranges, all visible in one glorious panorama.
The Spanish Peaks and Hyalite:

 The Crazies:

 And, of course, the long ridge line of the Bridgers.  (Speaking of Ridge Routes...)

At the bottom I paused at Fairy Lake, a place which lives up to its name.  It's easy to imagine the fairies coming out to play, teasing the fish in that still, green pool.  

Hail

It came, swift and sudden.  One minute we were steadily climbing, keeping a watchful eye on the nearby storm clouds, flashing with lightening.  The next, the storm had broken, fiercely pelting us with pea-sized hail.  Caught on an open hill with no trees nearby, we were uncertain what to do.  Eventually we ran, ducking, trying to avoid the stinging pellets, to the nearest scruffy trees and bushes, about 100 yards away.  Making use of the slightly improved shelter they offered, we waited for the storm to pass.  

Cold and wet, with red welts on arms and necks we contemplated turning back, but not for long.  The spirit of adventure was too strong, at least in the youth with us, and the parents were willing to carry on for their sakes.  

(only picture I got of the actual hail...)

 It was worth it. 

The cave...

The view from the cave...

The American Indian paintings in the cave...

(What do they look like to you?)

 I love hiking.  And this time, the hail just made it that much more enjoyable.