May 16, 2008: Olympos, Turkey

Olympos was one of the best climbing areas I've been to on this trip. Nestled in a narrow, green valley a short walk from the Mediterranean Sea, it is scenic, blessed with pleasant weather, cool ruins, and full of great climbing.

One of the developed crags overlooking the Mediterranean:
The Promised Land, really, if it wasn't for the cheesy "tree houses" which Olympos uses to draw in tourists. They are not so much tree houses as scrap pieces of wood nailed together on a platform a few feet off the ground. Which, I guess, is what tree houses are, except they are usually in trees. Anyway, the area is really quite wonderful and there is always a camping option or cabin rooms if well-ventilated tree houses full of a variety of fauna are not your thing.

Although Olympos really wants to be a tourist town, it is quite small and quite laid-back (other than one open air bar which insists on blasting club music between the hours of 10 p.m. to 1 a.m. every day) and it is tempting to never leave. The manager of our camp, an Aussie with a PhD in Economics, arrived seven years ago and has never left. The place can be that tempting. Especially as some Turks have been developing the climbing over the past couple of years.

I spent so much time climbing that I didn't even have time to sew up my trousers which had completely ripped along the entire length of my butt seam. It was time to bust out the heavy duty tape.

From a sartorial standpoint, tape is far better because I can change the color whenever I want (and when I've been wearing the same clothes for 10 months a little variety can be nice). It wasn't that I was too lazy to sew my trousers, I just couldn't sit around. I mean, who wouldn't want to go climbing, really, when the walk to the crag takes you past this: And this (the tree has grown through the rock so that a chunk of rock is attached to it):And this:And this:And funky, huge, possibly man-eating flowers like this one that Tazzy is holding:And, well, not really this. I couldn´t resist blowing this super-sized dandelion thing and the result is yet another cheesy, 70s style pic to add to my other one from the Ala Dag:
Climbing was so much fun that George and I decided to do a night climb -- through a rather dubious decision making process, of course. BiRT was leaving at the insane time of 4 a.m. so most of us decided to stay up all night and sleep on the truck while driving the next day. We were casually sitting around the firepit at camp when we decided it would be a good idea to go to the local club in hopes that the music would keep us awake. A club in Olympos means about 10 people are in the joint so we weren't expecting much -- especially nothing like floodlights illuminating some climbs on one of the crags. George and I immediately saw the lights, looked at each other and said in unison "Wouldn't it be fun to climb that?" Instead of immediately grabbing our gear, though, we proceeded to have a few more beers and make a spectacle on the dance floor, all the while sneaking glances at our watches in between longing looks at the crag.

Finally, at 2:45 a.m. I couldn't take it any more and said "Look, George, if we run back to the truck now we can grab our gear then run back here and be at the base of the climb ready to go by 3:10. If we each take 15 minutes to climb then we can be done by 3:40 which leaves us plenty of time to be back to the truck before 4." A good plan, I thought, especially in light of the fact that I was able to do higher math at that point in the morning. George was ready for anything as usual, so we sprinted off to the truck laughing like schoolboys, threw on our harnesses, grabbed a rope and some draws, put on our headlamps, and raced back to the crag, arriving 10 minutes ahead of schedule. Yes, we are that good. It took me a few unsteady moves before I got the hang of climbing in the dark -- luckily before our cheering section composed of Aidan, Andy, and a couple of Dutch girls staying at our camp appeared to shout encouragement and insults at us.

George shines his light down upon the adoring crowd:

By the time George had finished we were 15 minutes ahead of schedule and sauntered back to the truck with time to spare. We aren't just good, we're great.

Me and George looking surprisingly peppy at 3:30 a.m.:

Night climbing was such a blast that I'm definitely planning on doing it again in the future.