Hy Hates Climbing: November 25th - November 30th, 2023

Hello dear Figure 8 Readers! My name is Hong-Yen, and I’ll be this week’s guest blogger.

Saturday, Nov 25 Daily journal entry - No sleeping in. Breakfast and second coffee. Shuttle to the airport. What should have been a short flight turned into a long day of delays due to weather. We finally get to the guesthouse at 9PM after a long and somewhat perilous drive in the storm.  

Our last second coffee at the airport

After a packed week in Istanbul, Ben, Susan, and I were set to depart to Antalya Saturday morning. The morning went smoothly enough. We had breakfast, picked a random coffee shop for one last Istanbul patio coffee, and even had enough time for Ben to (re)purchase a cool t-shirt before our van came to pick us, and Ben and Susan’s additional heavy bags, up to drop us off at the airport where we continued our ritual of having second coffee. And that’s when all smoothness ended. What should have been a quick hour long flight turned into a five hour flight as, we would later learn, a significant storm pummeled Antalya with rain, preventing our plane from landing. For a few hours, we circled Antalya, before flying to a nearby coastal city for a refuel. “Is this going to turn into a beach vacation after all?”. Luckily we carried on lots of left over snacks from previous food scarcity times and landed around 6 or 7 PM or so. For dinner, we had airport Burger King. Sometimes you really do just fly 1000 miles and really don’t go anywhere, physically, mentally, emotionally, or spiritually.

Sometimes you really do just fly 1000 miles and really don’t go anywhere, physically, mentally, emotionally, or spiritually.

Ocan, the driver at the guest house, picked us up and we began the still perilous trek from the airport to the guest house, some 45 minutes to an hour and a half away, depending on the decisions of our drivers. The rain certainly was heavy and coming down furiously. It now made sense why we couldn’t land. We arrived late. Luckily Ben and Susan knew the layout of the place, and we found our cabin in the dark, in the rain. Ben went to take a shower, for he is a proper, clean boy. Exhausted. I passed out…

…only to wake up to find myself inside of a Reel Rock video. I was unjustifiably upset at the beauty of being on the side of a canyon surrounded by sheer limestone cliffs as the storm clouds lifted and passed on. Here’s a picture instead of 1000 words.

Low quality picture. High quality memories. Ben's photos are better but... you get the point of it.

And so, the following days passed in a idyllic rhythm revolving around attaining sustenance, chasing sun, climbing, and vaguely trying to slow the decline of my running fitness. 

Susan petting Susie.

Sunday, Nov 26

Daily journal entry - Slow morning in the guest house, becoming familiar with things. We finally go out to climb about noon-ish. But before, I sit on the patio in the sun and eat a pomegranate. Dinner, sleep. Ben and I do burpees.

Looking back on these days, I start wondering, do I really want to work the entirety of my whole life? Or is it enough to punctuate the Monday - Friday grind with parenthesis containing (basking in the sun, face warmed by sunlight revealed after clouds drift, playing soft music, and taking my time to slowly peel and enjoy a pomegranate picked and left on the side table outside of our cabin)?

Enjoying covered porch/patio life. 

Ben and Susan went climbing. I followed them somewhat and mildly begrudgingly. I was only here because to go overseas for a week seemed like a waste. They kindly entertained my heckling jokes about making t-shirts that said "Here under duress" and how we were progressing perfectly on our Couch to 8a training plan. Strangely enough, I'd rather spend a 16 hour day climbing the Prominant Triangle across the canyon with a Fistful of Nuts, as we would call it for the next few days, than do single pitch sport climbing. But alas.

Ben on lead. Obligatory climbing photo.

At dinner we are the only Americans in a roomful of quiet middle aged German. We meet the cliche- loud, loud, loud. Later that week I'd (loudly) ask my German friend Bene, "Are Germans typically quiet?" while we rode in on the train into Munich sitting across across from an older lady reading the paper. He responded that yes, they were culturally raised to be quiet, and that his short time in America in elementary school and junior high would make him louder than usual, a trait his fiancé often complained about. When we were away from the lady, he would tease me about disturbing her peace with my loud American voice.

And so we fell into the cadence - dinner, followed by long and slow and gentle wind downs on the platform couches where we would hang out playing books or phone and where I would read about death and try to get Ben and Susan to be concerned about what happened after they died.

Papa Polk said there was enough money in the budget for this Cola! Praise be!

Monday, Nov 27

Daily journal entry - I fall into the cadence of things. 8 am brekkie and coffee. We climb the tufa and I say bad words. I, tired, skip another run. Ben and I do jumping jacks, I skip a run. Dinner, then we lounge on the couch. That's the rhythm of things! I declare that I'm done climbing, haha.

I could write about the Irish and Kurdish man we met and the heckling banter passed between us or I could write about climbing tufa for the first time and how I was completely whipped and not in tufa climbing shape or about how I would harass people who asked by telling them that I hated climbing and I was here to read a book...

... but honestly the most precious moment, was perhaps when Ben and I were doing jumping jacks to a feeble attempt at trying to ward my inevitable fitness decline, which excited Susie the dog who thought we were playing. Ben abandoned jumping jacks to play with Susie. 

Sometimes you really do just go 1000 miles to be unmoved by 1000 year old cities and modern mind melting art only to be moved by witnessing the preciousness of a boy and a dog freely, unbridled, and spontaneously at play as the sun sets, and that's something precious about that moment that will sit with me for a while, because of some unplaceable magic. 

"After you die it's gonna be a party, every 7 days, for 40 days. Are you ready for it ? Because it's not gonna be sick if you're not ready for it."

Tuesday, Nov 28

Daily journal entry - Rest day! Like a cat I chase the sun, and soak in the sights, smells, and sounds of a Turkish guesthouse. Alternating between napping and reading. Ben and Susan get anxious with food insecurity. We have the tastiest fresh eggs and I peel the pomegranate and I get high off of life. I go on my first run in a while.

I wake up and I announce, "I have something racist to say. I feel uncomfortable around all of these Germans!!!" I'd built up a little POC bubble in Salt Lake City and I was becoming accustomed to not be the only person with an amount of melanin in the room.

I wonder if one overheard and told the rest, because for the rest of the time there, more Germans greeted me than before and I regretted my words.

We had been unable to stop by a grocery store due to arriving so late in the afternoon. That day, the cook announced that she was moving to a different city. In the confusion, we were unable to procure lunch sandwiches.

"We will have food at dinner, don't worry" I said, probably in between doing a big full body stretch and falling asleep in a sliver of sunshine using my death book as shade. Ben and Susan, overcome with worries of food scarcity, walk down the road to the main canyon road to the fruit stand, and manage to find us some fresh eggs and fruit. I busy myself while peeling a pomegranate while Ben and Susan fry the eggs in a camp stove. We construct various odd combinations of left over pantry items to ward off feelings of food insecurity. I still think about the freshness and deliciousness of those eggs to this day. I'm giddy with the simplicity and joy of attaining my lowest hierarchy of needs with two of my friends at the pinnacle of self actualization.

Like a cat who takes a few days to be comfortable in a new space, I take my first shower since Istanbul.

The phones are calling and I must scroll! Oftentimes the internet was not operating, so it was both a treat to be out of service, but in service, upon occasion. 

Wednesday, Nov 29

Daily journal entry - Forced rest day! We live in a cloud. I return to my cave woman instincts and stay in the warmth. I enjoy the time here but also start looking forward to being home. Ben and I do a prison workout. We say bro a lot.

Rain clouds roll into the canyon, sucking the warmth from the air and Ben and Susan's climbing hopes. We primarily hang out in the main guesthouse where there's a wood burning stove. Susan teaches me about the different lines in Google Maps. "You see those dotted lines.... avoid going there." As an overly sheltered suburb girl, I can always count on Susan to learn me some things.

As Ben has supported me in my half-assed attempts at maintaining fitness, I support him in making the most out of this forced rest day by showing him how to do a prison workout. Anywhere is prison if you put your mind to it! A prison work out is 3 sets of 10 pull ups, dips, and push ups. We grunt a lot, probably disturbing the Germans' peace, and call each other bro.

I get to watch Ben and Susan exist and once again give me unrealistic expectations of relationships.

Ben and Susan doing Duolingo together, learning Turkish. I contimplate death as per usual.

Thursday, Nov 30

Daily journal entry - Fly from Antalya to Munich

Heavy snows resulted in semi chaoticness. Met up w/ Bene and did all forms of public transportation and winter market. Psyched.

In the morning we depart to the airport. As soon as they leave the airport, Ocan gets into an accident with a motorcyclist, but I guess that's Ben and Susan's story to tell.

Oh how time passes. It is good to spend time with friends in far away places doing commonplace things like eating, conversating, and lounging, and even better, to feel the bubble of safety and acceptance among old friends.