Before entering Colorado, a short stop at the point known as “Four Corners Monument,” where the borders of four U.S. states, Colorado, New Mexico, Utah, and Arizona intersect.
They have built an area in the middle of the desert, just like you see in this photo. People travel for miles to take a picture at this exact spot. Around the meeting point, the local people have set up small businesses selling trinkets and souvenirs. If I remember correctly, the entrance fee to this area was over $20.
Normally, I had planned to take a photo and move on, but I’ll be meeting a cyclist I know from Turkey here.
The younger generation knows him by the nickname “Fast and Furious.” İsmail Öznam suddenly became popular in Turkey after crossing the Istanbul Bridge and the Marmaray Tunnel on a racing bike without police permission. Later, he had an accident due to speeding, broke a few bones, and switched from cycling to motorcycling, continuing his career on YouTube. From there, he eventually moved to the United States and now makes a living as a truck driver.
İsmail: “Bro, I’m heading your way. Want to meet up?”
Me: “Then let’s meet at the spot where the four state borders intersect. I’ll be waiting for you there.”
I arrived at the location about an hour before him and chatted with local vendors. A Navajo woman gifted me a few bracelets. She told me she also owns a Harley-Davidson and loves traveling.
I listened to some of her stories. By the way, as I had mentioned before, Americans usually don’t help strangers they see on the road. But while traveling this route, a Navajo man stopped me after dark when he saw me on the road and handed me a vest. It happened just as I was about to stop and set up my tent. When I told him I was staying next to the nearby structure for the night, he even brought me some food and snacks.
When I finally met up with İsmail, we gave each other a long hug. It felt like we had known each other for years. Since the weather was hot, I parked my bike in front of his truck.
He had prepared some chicken in the morning before hitting the road and said, “Let’s dig in for lunch, bro.” So, we sat inside the truck and started chatting. After that, he did a short interview with me for his YouTube channel. I watched some videos he had filmed in the U.S. and read through the comments. He’s a young man who has inspired many people about cycling through his channel.
On the other hand, as I mentioned in my previous article, the ethical rules of media have changed with the rise of people filming everything with their phones. Now, everyone can publish whatever they want, however they want. (I had already shared my thoughts on this in my last piece.) Despite receiving heavy criticism, he keeps moving forward without paying attention to it. All I can say is, I wish him a smooth journey ahead.
We had left the area around dusk. Looking ahead, I saw nothing significant on the road for quite some time. Outside the park, there was a spacious area by the road where I could set up my tent. Perfect, I would spend the night there and continue my journey in the morning.
I had now entered the state of Colorado. Meanwhile, Ayşe and Cem, whom I had met in Santa Fe, had taken their daughter along on a week-long vacation. They caught up with me right after I visited Mesa Verde National Park. Cem had been insisting that I had to go there.
Cem: “I don’t know how you’re going to climb it, Gürkan, but the park is amazing.”
Me: “What! A lot of climbing? Awesome, awesome.”
Mesa Verde National Park was already going to be connected to my previous article because the Navajo settlements and Mesa Verde are closely related.
Mesa Verde National Park, United States
I am not American, nor have I lived here. But I have read about the country’s history and I know what its national parks have to offer. And I can confidently say this: Mesa Verde is unlike any other national park in the United States. For me, it’s the most beautiful national park on the continent.
When I said this, people who had lived in the U.S. for years and visited numerous national parks disagreed with me. But when I listed my reasons and asked if there was anything similar, they couldn’t come up with an answer. So, let me explain why this place is truly unique:
- The internal transportation network and side roads within the park are excellent.
- There are amazing climbing routes with breathtaking views.
- The nature is incredible. It’s a park full of bears and elk.
- The camping area is fantastic.
So far, everything sounds like any other great national park. But what sets this one apart is:
- As early as 7500 BC, people lived in caves in this area. By 200 AD, they had transitioned to a settled life and began constructing buildings. There are over 600 structures, some resemble the ancient mounds (höyüks) found in Anatolia. Thanks to adventurous women’s groups in the region, the site was included in the UNESCO World Heritage list in 1978. Take note. It was women who explored and brought this place into the spotlight.
There is no other national park in the United States that combines such ancient human history with such stunning landscapes. On this continent, Mesa Verde stands alone in its category. As someone who loves historical sites, it’s no surprise that this is my number-one national park.
In my previous article, you read about Chaco Canyon. The people who built the structures there are the same ones who built these here. The straight-line distance between them is roughly 100 kilometers.
After leaving Mesa Verde, the route my bike chose led me to San Juan National Forest. A National Park and a National Forest are not the same thing. Their purposes and management differ. For example, in a national park, you can’t just set up camp wherever you want. But in a national forest, if you find an open spot, you can pitch your tent without any restrictions.
This is where the epic climbs began. One was Molas Pass, standing at 3,322 meters (10,901 feet).
When I reached the summit, there were a few vehicles parked there. I took a photo in front of a sign and snapped a shot of the surroundings. Then, I walked over to some guys, using binoculars to observe goats in the mountains.
There wasn’t much time left before nightfall. I needed to descend a bit to set up camp because I was sure the temperature would drop to freezing levels. I didn’t want to end up skiing down to the town tomorrow morning. After exchanging a few words with them, I headed downhill.
Note: This is what I do during my 14 years of traveling; whenever I stop, I do thorough research about the region. I share articles about the areas I travel to, after riding 100 kilometers and climbing 1500 meters. But people asking for a video is just not possible. When I stop, I dedicate my time solely to writing, as I have too many videos to edit or process. I’ve had friends suggest that I let someone else handle it. No, that’s not going to work. The person who lived the experience is me, and either I’ll edit the video or someone who has traveled with me will. They are the only ones who know what happened at that moment and can edit accordingly. So, please stop with the “let someone else edit the videos” suggestions. To my dear followers, in short, you won’t be able to watch the videos from my world tour. On this trip, I focus on things I enjoy: writing, reading, and traveling. Why am I telling you this? Because there is a detail I hadn’t noticed. I would have noticed it eventually, but my friend pointed it out beforehand. You’ll read about it in my next post.
I went down to the lake below to set up my tent. Meanwhile, it got dark. I told the attendant that I was setting up my tent and had come by bike, and he said it would be $35. They charge the same price for a person coming by bike to set up a single tent as they do for someone arriving by car. Now that’s just ridiculous.
In the United States, they haven’t made such a classification. There’s no pricing structure charging one rate for those arriving by car and another for those coming by bike or motorcycle. The camping spot they gave me was clearly meant for cars. They consider the possibility of someone arriving by bike and setting up a tent so unlikely that such classification wasn’t present in any of the 10 states I visited. By the way, this wasn’t a national park, it was a national forest area. Right below, there’s also a town called Silverman.
I left an AMAZING review on Google Maps for the place. I practically nail it there! As a result, months later, I received an apology message.
The next morning, I went to Silverman town to get some coffee. It was a great little town. When I entered the town, I saw a few cyclists in the parking lot of a hotel by the road, getting ready to head out on their racing bikes. As soon as they saw me, they immediately treated me to breakfast. I thought to myself, “The vibe is changing.” More and more people recognize me on the road without asking who I am or what I’m doing, just understanding that I’ve come from far away.
The famous pass out of Silverman town is called Red Mountain Pass. It’s located at 11.155 feet (3,400 meters). The view during the climb is amazing, and after that, the road connects to one of the United States’ legendary iconic roads: the Million Dollar Highway. Construction on this road started in 1881. Now, what did I do? I didn’t bother with the camera or anything. I saw the road sloping downhill beautifully and thought, “Forget it, just enjoy the ride, Gürkan,” so I didn’t even turn on the video camera. But when I reached the bottom of the hill, I stopped and captured a shot of the valley. They really invested a million dollars in this place back in 1881. I read the detailed informational signs about how the road was built and moved on.
The next pass was the Continental Divide Pass, also at 11319 feet (3450 meters). As I was descending, I could hear the sound of rain approaching from behind. I urgently needed to find a spot for my tent, and as I was looking, I spotted a sheltered area by the roadside. I quickly set up my tent, and then the heavy rain started. After all these years, it’s clear that I need to replace my tent. The North Face’s U.S. headquarters is in Denver, the capital. I hope they call me from Türkiye office and offer me a new tent.
The next morning, I set off from that spot and descended 9.3 Miles (15 Km) downhill. Then, do you know what happened? I realized I had left the lock I’ve been carrying with me for years up there. Ugh, I had to climb back up the hill I just descended for nothing! This lock, by the way, I once left behind in Argentina as well, and I remembered those memories. I got this lock in South Africa, and I’ve been using it for 9 years.
In front of me is Pueblo town. After that, I’ll continue up towards Denver, but my friend Hilmi, whom I met in Santa Fe, insisted that there’s someone in this town I need to meet.
Hilmi: “Gürkan, I’ve informed my university friend, Cherly. She’s waiting for you. She’s a Mormon. It’ll be a good meeting for both you and her.”
Me: “Thanks to Hilmi, of course, I’ll go. The town is on my way anyway, and I’d be happy to be a guest. Also, I’ve never met anyone from the Mormon religion before.”
Cherly called me every 2-3 days to ask how close I was. The road to her house was beautiful. I happily took the back roads to her home in Pueblo. When I arrived, I was greeted by a wonderfully sweet, authentic American woman. I stayed at her place for two days, resting, enjoying delicious meals, and having great conversations. She told me about the Mormon religion, and I decided to download the book about the religion on my Kindle, planning to read it when I find time.
On the first day, I entered the house, I saw 11 portrait photos on the dining table. – “Cherly, can I ask something? Who are the people in the photos?”
Cherly: “They’re my children.”
Me: “All of them?”
Cherly: “Yes.”
I was momentarily shocked. All her children were Ironman athletes, and she was an Ironman coach too. She mentioned that she would be giving swimming lessons to her grandchildren that evening and asked if I wanted to join. As I thought about what kind of woman’s house I had come to, a family tree on the wall caught my attention. It started with Cherly, then her children, and went down through the years, until I saw the name “Benjamin Franklin.” The family tree is spread out wide. Meanwhile, she was still inside preparing dinner.
Me: “Cherly, I have to ask something. At the end of your family tree, there’s Benjamin Franklin from the 18th century. That’s not the Benjamin Franklin, one of the Founding Fathers, right?”
Cherly: “Yes, Gürkan.”
Me: “So, are you the granddaughter of Benjamin Franklin, one of the Founding Fathers of the United States?”
Cherly: “Yes.”
For a few seconds, I think I almost lost track of myself. I texted Hilmi:
Me: “Bro, do you know who you introduced me to?”
Hilmi: “Hahaha, Gürkan, I told you you had to meet her.”
The conversations over the next two days were so incredible and interesting that they can’t even be written here. I don’t think I will ever even mention them in my memories. But hearing the American Dream from Cherly, the granddaughter of Benjamin Franklin, one of this country’s Founding Fathers, took this journey to an entirely different level.
Anyway, I continued on my way…