On a recent sightseeing trip to northern, central, and western Turkey with 5 friends, I hiked the gorge in the Saklikent National Park. Numerous travel websites like this one describe (and warn) about what to expect:
The first one or two kilometers can be covered by everyone including the children. However, going deeper into the canyon, there are more and more obstructions. Further on, one has to climb up with the aid of ropes hanging on the walls at certain points. After a few kilometers it is almost impossible to go any further. […] While touring in Saklikent National Park, it is necessary to wade in hip-high waters from time to time. In other words, there is a price to pay for visiting such a beautiful location: Getting your clothes and shoes wet. It would be beneficial to take along flippers or rubber shoes for those wishing to go deeper into the canyon.
This description is pretty accurate, except there were no ropes. Instead, there were Turkish guides (all young men) who hung out around the halfway mark of the gorge, waiting for intrepid hikers who might need help. Although we had come prepared with good shoes and dry bags, as six mid-life women-identifying Canadian tourists we were exactly those hikers. Ali did not offer to guide us: he just joined our group and started showing us the best ways to place our feet to hoist ourselves over and through each wet, rocky impasse. Near the end, Ali even used parts of his own body (upper leg, knee, even ankle) as our steps. But we were all treated at the end of the hike to a deliciously strong and cold rushing waterfall.
Then, we turned around and went back the way we came. Climbing out, we were the very image of the soaked, happy hikers that had made us curious when we were first heading in. We stretched our bodies afterwards but were still pretty sore the next day. A few bruises came out. Although we remained on the gorge floor, my friend’s phone app said we climbed the equivalent of 23 flights of stairs.
The steps count and the website description above fail to capture my experience hiking this gorge. It was astonishing to move through the deep caverns, see the shafts of light falling on the walls, hear the echoing rush of water. Early in the hike I thought about the many people who journeyed here before me and the thousands of years prior that led to the gorge’s formation. I was awestruck and, at one point, moved to some tears by its beauty.
My pause for taking an emotional moment was necessary because I was otherwise fully absorbed: it took total focus to wade through pools of uncertain depths and scale slick boulders with and without Ali’s help. Every step and turn required careful foot and hand placement, as well as weight shifts, to avoid falling or getting hurt.
So, to call it a workout, or even a hike, does not fully express the total engagement of my body, my mind, and my heart in this stunning and memorable natural environment. I think I want to find more of these places to hike: they make my muscles and my heart sing.
FIFI readers, please share an activity or experience that moved not only your body but also your senses, your emotions, or your spirit. Where did you go, what did you do, and what was it like!?
