Rock slides don't have to hurt, but today they did

Wow, it's been way too long since my last post. Especially since I need to do an Istanbul post AND a Greek Easter post. But first...

A picturless entry: I decided today that I hated my legs. But in the way that one decides something that's a fact waiting to be discovered. I don't will to despise my legs, I just do things that punish them....for who knows what. Case(s) in point. Yesterday, I ascended (and then descended) about 800m, possibly more, of steep, loose rocks. This equated to over ten collisions with my shins and ankles. If a man smacks his shins on a rock in the middle of a forest alone, is it funny?

Today, they thought they were safe. Four hours in a car chasing after the figments of a Turkish Road Map's imagination, and not so much as a scratch. But upon reaching a hill shrouded in nettles, and quickly discovering that these plants encased the ruins of an (unexcavated) ancient city, I quickly set to work reminding my legs why shorts and traipsing in the wilderness are a combination on par with peanut butter and a milkless existence.

One day I'll explain this all to my grandchildren in the form of a story designed to make them glad they're not old.