First kilometers in Turkey on a bike were tough. But the feeling of freedom? Absolutely priceless.
First Kilometers in Turkey
Day 11: After yesterday’s exhausting transfer from Georgia, with wind, rain and cold battering me, I finally got back on the bike today. This time alone. Yesterday’s car ride was a welcome break, and honestly, it felt good. Some of my companions cycled through that miserable weather—respect to them.
Today it’s still cold, but manageable. Seven degrees in the morning, warming up to fourteen during the day—after days near freezing, it feels like spring has finally arrived.
All day, one feeling kept me going: freedom. That peculiar sense of liberty when the world shrinks to the width of the road and the beat of your heart.
Tepebaşi Geçidi Rakım
Along the way, I passed the Tepebaşi Geçidi Rakım mountain pass, sitting over 2,000 meters above sea level. Winds swept across the valley and the temperature dropped several degrees, but the views of the snow-capped Caucasus ridges made every pedal stroke worth it.
Just before sunset, I found the perfect overnight spot—a covered corner in an abandoned gravel pit. Rain was forecasted for the night and morning, so I was grateful for the shelter. And then came the less pleasant news: while pitching my tent, another pole snapped. My faithful companion is clearly nearing the end of its season.
Tomorrow I’ll have to stop in the nearest town and hunt for a new tent—hopefully one sturdy enough to withstand more than a gentle Caucasus breeze.
Tepebaşi Geçidi – Fact Box
The Tepebaşi Geçidi is one of the key mountain passes in eastern Anatolia, Turkey. Located above 2,000 meters, it connects the Erzurum region to the valleys toward the eastern Turkish border. For cycling and bikepacking, it is challenging yet visually spectacular: switchbacks climb past steep cliffs, offering panoramic views of the Caucasus Mountains. Cyclists passing here experience a mix of adrenaline, mountain winds, and the untamed nature typical of eastern Anatolia.
Wind, Kindness, and a TV Interview in Erzurum
Day 12: Today was supposed to be “easy.” Ninety kilometers, after yesterday’s 140, I thought—piece of cake.
Yet sometimes a short route feels harder than a longer one. Cold and headwinds accompanied me from the morning, slowing even my thoughts. But, as always, the struggles were outweighed by the experiences.
I managed to repair my tent in the morning—makeshift fix with wire and tape, but it holds.
Along the way, I passed Ortalama Hız Tespiti, known among cyclists and road enthusiasts as a point where vehicle speeds are measured. For me, it was more about testing how I could overcome the headwind and climbs—and the result was encouraging: even on a bike, impressive pace and effort are possible.
Then came something I love on the road: human kindness.
In the first shop I entered, the owner wouldn’t let me pay. He just smiled and waved. I didn’t understand the words, but the meaning was clear: “Welcome.” Moments like these make the world feel right.
Later, in a small fish restaurant, the owner noticed my bike and asked where I was from and where I was headed. After a hearty meal of fish and sides, he invited me to a television interview. Given my broken English, it will likely appear as a lighthearted travel segment—but the enthusiasm was real.
I’m spending the night at Erzurum Technical University—a triple room with breakfast for 24 euros. After long, rainy days, the bed feels like luxury.
Erzurum – Fact Box
Erzurum, nearly 1,900 meters above sea level, is one of the coldest cities in Turkey. In winter, temperatures can drop below minus twenty Celsius, giving the city a unique, crisp atmosphere.
Once a key point on the Silk Road, linking Persia, Armenia, and Anatolia, Erzurum today blends history and modernity: Seljuk mosques, Ottoman caravanserais, and contemporary universities stand side by side, creating an unmistakable sense of place.
First kilometers in Turkey were challenging, but the road continues west. My tent may barely hold together, but my determination to ride is stronger than ever.
