I spend most of the day climbing. By later afternoon I'm up in the clouds and there is snow everywhere. I'm grateful that the roads are good, not really in the mood for pushing the bike. It's quiet. I have no idea how high I am – but it seems high.
Stop at a garage when I come down from the clouds. One fellow suggests I sleep in the disused building over the road. I do. An old fellow warns I don’t make food – big dog comes out of the hill at night and could cause me trouble. I get the impression the Turks are pretty scared of dogs. But I still listen to the warning. I must also confess – I myself am finding a fear for the creatures. They've shown themselves to be fierce for sure, but I'm yet to come to any harm, I suspect my fear is somewhat unnecessary. My hands slow down as I type away inside my concrete cell...think it's gonna be a cold one...
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