GO THE DISTANCE
Willie Weir, columnist and feature writer for Adventure
Cyclist magazine,
has won the 2005 Article on Adventure Travel Bronze Award in the
21st Annual Lowell Thomas Travel Journalism Competition for the article "Forgotten
Turkey" which was published in the July 2004 issue of Adventure
Cyclist.
The contest is sponsored by the Society of American Travel Writers
(SATW) Foundation and judged by the faculty at the University of
Missouri School of Journalism. There were a total of 1,385 entries.
Congratulations Willie from everybody at the Adventure Cycling Association. "Forgotten
Turkey" can
be viewed online in PDF format at www.adventurecycling.org/mag/Forgotten_Turkey.pdf.
You can visit the SATW website at www.satw.org.
A large military vehicle sped by, kicking up rocks and a
huge cloud of dust. Through the brown haze, I could
make out a helmeted man behind a large
machine gun mounted on a turret. The
brakes squealed, and the vehicle swerved to
a stop about fifty feet in front of our bikes.
All four doors
opened simultaneously, and four soldiers with assault rifles
jumped out and surrounded us.
As the dust cleared, a man wearing a
military cap stepped out of the vehicle and
approached my wife Kat and me with his
arms out and a smile on his face.
“Don’t worry. Don’t worry. We are
here to protect you!”
Funny, I hadn’t felt the need for protection
before our sunny day’s ride being so
dramatically interrupted.
“You can travel anywhere in Turkey
that you’d like,” he continued in perfect
English. “But this road that you are on . . .
you must have special permission.”
“Also, you seem to have passed a
checkpoint back there. My friends waved at
you, but you did not stop. You must have
not heard their calls because of the wind.”
His explanation was interrupted by an
equally imposing military vehicle — with
matching machine gun and turret — skidding
to a halt behind us. Four more soldiers
with assault rifles jumped out and joined the
group surrounding us.
“If you trust us, we will put your bicycles
in that vehicle, and you will come with
me in this vehicle, and we will go back to
the checkpoint and have a discussion.”
As we roared down the highway, the
soldier in the front passenger seat put
down his assault rifle long enough to offer
us a refreshing sprit of lemon cologne.
“Where did you learn your English?” I yelled over the din of the
motor.
“I don’t speak English,” he smiled
back.
“Where are you from?” I asked.
“I am from the heavens. I am your
guardian angel,” he winked. “I am also a
PhD in information technology and
human interaction.” Read Article
This
article is availabe in its entirety in PDF format by clicking
here. |
