After leaving Pueblo, the first city I came across was Colorado Springs. The city is also the training base for the U.S. Olympic team. Why did they choose this place out of all of America?
The reason is simple: Altitude.
Athletes from every sport imaginable come here for training camps before the Olympics. From here, they head straight to wherever the Olympics will be held. This region has an altitude ranging from 1700 meters to 2000 meters.
I thought of tennis, so let’s go with that.
Tennis players preparing for the U.S. Olympic and World Championships come here for training camps before their competitions. At an altitude of 1900 meters, there are exactly 15 tennis courts for the athletes. There are 45 public tennis courts in total. In Turkey, 12 tennis courts were built at 2000 meters in Erciyes with the same logic. When we don’t perform well in the Olympics, we’re the community that asks, “Why are they winning, and why aren’t we?” Eeeeeeyyyyyyyyyyyyy…!!!!! My fellow citizens who know nothing about sports science or anatomy but have an opinion on everything. 🙂
So, what happens to an athlete at high altitudes, and why do they prefer this place?
At high altitudes, the oxygen thins and decreases, which causes the body to increase the amount of hemoglobin in the blood. Hemoglobin is the red blood cell that carries oxygen to the tissues. Having more red blood cells (erythrocytes) creates a turbo effect when returning to sea level. Similar to that in vehicles. The adaptation process for a standard athlete at altitude takes about 2 weeks. Even after returning to sea level, the athlete’s performance continues at a high level for about 2 weeks. Since I’ve been pedaling in the Andes since 2017, I’ve observed this phenomenon in my body over the years. I know the pros and cons very well. I’m a cyclist who has repeatedly ascended and descended 5000 meters.
One of the main reasons I was so eager to come to this region was to climb the Trail Ridge Pass, the highest pass in the United States, on my bike. It sits at an altitude of approximately 10335 feet (3150 meters). Years ago, I wrote about the highest point, Evans, on my website. I had planned to go there as well, but the road was under construction and had been closed. (Note: I said point, not pass.)
People sometimes ask me, “Gürkan, what records have you broken?” Some think I set out to break world records or national records. That’s not the case, but I thought, why not since I’m already following these routes?
Now, the records I’ve broken are a bit different, and they’ll all be officially documented on a platform once my world tour is complete. However, when you break them, you, and a handful of other cyclists, already know. Only a handful of people have attempted or passed these points.
I am the cyclist who has covered the most kilometers in the largest deserts of each continent using only muscle power, within a certain time frame.
Karakum Desert, Taklamakan Desert, Gobi Desert, Tabernas Desert, Sahara Desert, Arabian Peninsula Desert, Kalahari Desert, Patagonia Desert, Atacama Desert, Chihuahuan Desert, Basin Desert (I’m heading towards this one), 11 deserts in 5 different continents. No other cyclist in history has done this. You won’t find another human who has crossed all of them using only muscle power in the last 80,000 years. If you’ve also recorded it all with the Garmin GPS, including heart rate, cadence, temperature, and speed sensors, the story is over. No matter what anyone says. This list will only have one more desert added to it. Think about this record: if someone tried to break it now, they would face an astronomical cost. It took me 14 years to achieve this. It may sound strange or crazy.
Since I reached this point with record muscle power, it brings up another distinction. I’m reaching it both by vehicle (a bicycle) and through physical strength, while some go higher, no one has ever reached all the passes by pure muscle power as I did. When looking at these passes in terms of time and distance, it’s not an easy record to break. The highest points and passes reached by vehicles belong to different categories. Breaking the record for the highest points reached by vehicles is impossible today due to climate change. I can only break the pass record. Even though four passes are listed below, as I mentioned, there isn’t a single cyclist who has passed through all four (there’s only one person who has passed through three). Even if there were, factors like time, distance, and climbing distance would come into play. Although the goal is to break these records, it would be quite an expensive process. I do not doubt that one day they will be broken. Ultimately, these two records will be the first of their kind.
Between 2010 and 2025, the highest vehicle-accessible points I’ve crossed among the continents are as follows. Let me clarify: I didn’t just ascend and descend from the highest points, but I’ve crossed them. The world’s highest pass is a dirt road over 6,000 meters, and only two cyclists have made it there. I’ve even spoken with them. The pass hasn’t been officially published, and they’ve only shared it digitally once, and I’ve received the coordinates. (So, the point advertised online as the world’s highest pass is actually in second place.) I’ve marked my place on the map, and one day, I’ll cross it.
I’ll share the passes I’ve crossed, and you can cross them too. Many of our fellow North Americans have unknowingly crossed the highest pass in the U.S. by vehicle, the Trail Ridge Pass. Apart from that, I’m the first Turkish person to cross these passes, and according to digital data, I am also the first cyclist to cross all four of them. All this is recorded on GPS, with detailed data, and I’ve been sharing it with you like it’s the most normal thing for years.
Here are the passes:
- Europe – Pico Del Veleta 11,140 feet (3394m)
- Africa – Tullu Dimtu 14,360 feet (4377m)
- South America – Abra Azuca 16,830 feet (5130m)
- North America – Trail Ridge 12,178 feet (3712m)
- Trail Ridge in North America is also important for me. Since the highest passes and settlements on the continent are in Colorado, it has become the best camp center for athletes.
After leaving Colorado Springs, there is a bike path to the state’s capital, Denver. This bike path follows the old roads that the Spanish who arrived in the region in the 1700s created with their horses or horse-drawn carriages. As I mentioned in previous writings, these roads merge with the Spanish roads that came from Miami. Amazingly, these roads are now being used as bike paths. Yes, it’s amazing, but there are so many homeless people in the country that these roads have become their homes.
Inside the city, the locals and security officers have allowed these unwanted people to settle along the bike paths, all the way to the outskirts of the city, so they don’t disturb the public. I had a similar experience a few days before I arrived in Denver. I had set up a tent beside one of these bike paths. Okay, I stayed there for one night. However, these homeless people regularly live in the areas for a while where they set up tents. In America, calling someone homeless is the same as calling someone a beggar in our country. They just made it a little more polite by calling them homeless. You know how people always think I’m homeless? Well, now I understand why.
Homeless people are traveling in the same way as me, on touring bikes. They have bags attached to their bikes just like I did when I started my world tour in 2012. They ride around the city like this. Not exactly in the city center, but in an area just outside the city would be more accurate. Since the bike path network is large in Colorado, and Denver, there is plenty of space for them to hide their bikes and tents. As I was using these paths, I kept thinking, “Wow, there are so many homeless people in this state.” By the way, the reason there are so many homeless people here is that, during a sports event in Utah in previous years, they collected homeless people from Utah and transported them here by bus.
I wondered how many kilometers the bike path network of the state of Colorado was. I decided to check, and it annoyed me.
The state’s bike path network is 10,000 kilometers long, hahaha. Let me put it this way: the state of Colorado is twice the size of our Central Anatolia region. Imagine how great it would be to have a 10,000-kilometer bike path network in such an area. I’m also sure of this: we wouldn’t see homeless people along these roads, as we do in the United States.
So, how big is the bike path network in Denver, the capital of this state? The answer is 400 kilometers, which is quite a good number.
There is also a bike path network between Colorado Springs and Denver. Especially after entering the city, they’ve paid attention to shared roads where vehicles and bikes use the same lanes. Those who read my articles or see my photos or the images I take on Instagram often say, “I wish we had roads like this.” I know that. But I must repeat: Denver, which has 400 kilometers of bike paths, has a population of 715,000 people.
- As I mentioned, the state of Colorado is almost twice the size of our Central Anatolia.
Population of Colorado: 6,000,000
- Population of Denver: 715,000
- Again, the state of Colorado is twice the size of Central Anatolia.
Population of Central Anatolia, Türkiye: 15 million
- Population of Ankara (the capital): 5 million
Colorado’s estimated annual income: 450 billion dollars
- Estimated annual income of Central Anatolia: 150 billion dollars
In Colorado, the area is vast, income is high, and the population is very low. Naturally, the quality of services is high. When comparing providing services to 5 million people in the capital, Ankara, versus 715,000 people in Denver, the difference is significant. This is why our Ankara can’t reach the desired level, nor will it ever. Add a bit of visionlessness on top of that, and there you have it.
If you were to take the population of Denver and place them in Ankara, you still wouldn’t be able to provide the same level of service with the current budget of Ankara. That’s why comparing these states or cities is really pointless.
In Türkiye, there are many people, few resources, and little production. But in these places, there are fewer people, many resources (and they also source from other places), and a lot of production. I believe I’ve clarified the issue.
I’m heading to Seçil Abay’s house in Denver, where I’ll stay. Before that, I had promised to visit her sister. My friendship with Seçil is still fresh. You know, during the pandemic, some phone apps became part of our lives. I had the chance to meet Seçil through one of these apps. Seçil had been following my journey for a while, and when she learned I was heading north, she said, “I have a house in Denver, you can stay as long as you want. In fact, I’m going on vacation, the house will be empty, come stay and rest.” As a result, I only made it to Denver a day before she returned.
I stopped by Aslı’s house, took a break, then went to Seçil’s house to take a shower, and later went back to Aslı and Hakan’s house for dinner. Aslı and Hakan’s story of coming to America is also quite something. Aslı gets a Green Card, they quickly get married and settle in Denver. As the conversation continued, and since Hakan knows the area so well, I thought I’d share an interesting detail with them during dinner.
I had mentioned earlier that I’m not someone who examines everything in detail while on the road. If there’s a sign to read, I take a photo and review it along with the images when I write articles later. While on the road, I get very tired and there are other things I need to focus on.
Before reaching the town of Silverton in Colorado, there’s the Molas Pass at 3324 meters. When you reach the top of the pass, there’s a beautiful view. Since I arrived just before dusk, I took a few photos of the place. I also looked at the mountains through binoculars used by people who were observing the mountains. Then I go on my way in search of a campsite.
However, I missed a detail there. I didn’t examine the sign I photographed. The next day, Ahmet, who caught up with me on the road with his wife Celine, pointed out the detail on the sign. (He’s my friend from Odessa, Texas, where I stayed). While eating, he said, “Gürkan, did you notice that Sultan Mountain was on the sign at the pass you crossed?” I hadn’t noticed.
If Ahmet hadn’t told me that, it would have taken me some time to see that detail (I passed through there in October 2024, and I’m writing this post in January 2025). As you can tell from my posts, I tend to write them a while later. When I take a break, I go through the photos and videos carefully. When Ahmet mentioned it, I got excited and shared it right away. However, I later removed the post for other reasons. But now, it will stay permanently on my website.
I first shared this information with Aslı and Hakan. Hakan pointed out another detail about the area. I told him, “If they named it that, there must be a bigger area around here.” The next day, I researched the area more thoroughly, and just as I had guessed, I found a much more significant and larger area. I looked into when the names in the area might have been given, where the immigrants from Turkey at the time might have settled, and the people these names might refer to, and I wrote my own hypothesis.
“The places you visit and the things you see are never just about the names you see; there might be an unexpected, beautiful story behind them.”
Officially, the mountains in this region of America have the following names:
Turkish Head Mountain
Big Turkish Mountain
Sultan Mountain
Golden Horn Mountain (Golden Horn)
Sultan Stream…
The name I gave to the area is the “Turkish Crown Region.”
In January 2025, I shared this with the Cultural Attaché and our Ambassador at the Turkish Consulate. They, too, learned about the area through this. Our Turks living in the region also heard about this area for the first time from me. By supporting the local festivals in the region by organizing a Turkish Day, a sense of unity could be established with the officially named mountains in the area. The area is surrounded by some of Colorado’s most valuable ski, camping, and hiking centers.
Silverton, in the San Juan region of Colorado, was founded in 1874. The town’s establishment is linked to the discovery of rich gold and silver deposits in the San Juan Mountains. In the early 1870s, miners flocked to the area. In 1874, an agreement with the Ute Native Americans opened the region to mining. By the early 1900s, it became the center of gold and silver mining. At the end of World War II, most of the mines closed. This region was the mining hub that financed the United States’ involvement in World War II. The last mine closed in 1991.
Today, the town has become a tourist destination due to the surrounding mountains, old mines, and natural beauty. Migration from the Ottoman lands to America was significant in the early 1900s. Some of the Turkish immigrants who arrived worked in the mines. The exploration of the region, the opening of trails, and the naming of places continued until 1974. When William Henry Jackson first photographed the area, the names listed above were already recorded.
Let me repeat; the things written here are Gürkan Genç’s thoughts, and I named the region “Turk Crown.” You won’t find or see this research anywhere.
In the region I named “Turk Crown,” Turkish miners were likely part of the research team at the time. I argue that the Turks who came here were not from Arab communities within the boundaries of the Ottoman lands, but directly from Anatolia. This is why, I emphasize that the name “Turk” is distinctly written in the area.
It’s known that the people who gave names to the mountains were the ones involved in the exploration and pathfinding in the area. However, it is not known who or what inspired the naming of this region. Perhaps a mining engineer inspired by the Turkish workers who joined the American company operating in the area.
- “Grand Turk Mountain” (Büyük Türk Dağı) was a general term used by European nations for the emperors in the Ottoman Empire. However, in the 20th century, I believe the only person who could be referred to as the Grand Turk is Mustafa Kemal Atatürk, whom I respectfully mention here, who began his journey from the pier in Samsun by bicycle to Turkey-Japan, from where I started my journey to North Asia, and who established the assembly in Ankara, from where I started my world tour. (However, I disregard this possibility in the later part of the article).
- “Grand Turk Mountain” is a general term used by Europe for emperors of the Ottoman Empire. However, I believe, the only person who could be referred to as Grand Turk, in the 20th century is Mustafa Kemal Atatürk. I started my journey to Turkey and Japan (North Asia) by bicycle from the pier in Samsun where Atatürk started his journey in 1919. Then I began my world tour in front of the first parliament building that Atatürk established on April 23, 1920, in Ankara, which I remember with gratitude. So, this naming of the area could be a reference to him. (However, I disregard this possibility in the later part of the article.)
- “Turks Head Mountain” can be called Turkish Summit or Summit Turk. Another meaning could be that it may resemble a head wearing a fez, which emerged in Ottoman culture. By the way, the fez is not the hat of the Ottoman Empire. It’s a hat model that originated elsewhere and had its modern shape in Ottoman lands. There are some ignorant people who, based on two or three articles they read from where they sit, refer to the fez as the Ottoman hat. I repeat, the fez is not part of Turkish culture. It is the hat of the Ottoman Empire, so don’t trust historians or clowns who claim otherwise.
- “Golden Horn Mountain” was the term European states used for the Golden Horn (Haliç) in Istanbul.
Now; if I reconsider the titles of Golden Horn Mountain (Haliç), Grand Turk Mountain (Büyük Türk Dağı), Turks Head Mountain (Zirvedeki Türk), and Sultan Mountain (Emperor), along with Sultan Stream (which could represent the emperor’s wife), I can only think of one person who can be associated with closing one era and opening another, who conquered Istanbul, and was the emperor of emperors: the great Turk Fatih Sultan Mehmed Han.
The short article you read above is a piece that came to my mind while I was on the road and I put it into writing. You can think and comment on it differently.
I recommend backpackers in the United States visit the area I call “Turk Crown.”
After enjoying Aslı’s delicious food and a wonderful conversation with this beautiful couple, I head to Seçil’s house. I begin to rest. The journey is long…