Get It While It’s Hot

When last we ventured to the Darvaza Gas Crater, it was March 23, 2011. In that post, which I encourage readers to enjoy yet again, I shared its origin story as well as its familiar name as the Door To Hell. In the interest of accuracy, I am providing an update - that it is also known as the Gates to Hell. Not sure if that’s a name change designed to attract more tourists or what.

It’s easy to see the attraction. Nothing like a 226-foot wide crater, 100-feet deep spewing ignited methane and god only knows what else. Pack a lunch.

As it turns out, despite this exceptionally fun and unique attraction, only a couple thousand tourists travel into Turkmenistan each year. Of course, this is a must-see. As Turkmenistan attractions go, it is #2 - right after the Gypjak Mosque and just ahead of the Turkmen Carpet Museum. You can see why I strongly recommend going with the “Skip The Line” country-wide pass.

Apparently Turkmenistan has decided enough is enough, recommending the crater to be filled and the gas somehow extinguished. This will be a neat trick in itself, and one wonders where all that gas is going to go exactly. But the point is - if you were planning on going - you better book now if you want some of that sweet Gates of Hell merch.

And while you’re there, stock up on the Turkmenistan Carpet Museum merch before prices go up and it rises to #2 on the must-see list.

***

Building or Burning and Degrading Gracefully

Degrading gracefully. One of a handful of standard responses my Dad would return when asked how he was doing. There was also “No complaints - nobody listens!” To my brother he was known as The Face. I don’t exactly know the story behind that one but it stuck. 

Anyway, getting back to the blog I was disappointed to discover many of my older posts seem to be degrading gracefully as well. Lost graphics, links to witty YouTube videos broken or turned private, etc. although the words seem to be hanging in there. And the older the posts are, it seems the more likely they are dissembling. Almost like the bits and bytes are just…degrading gracefully. But it is a comfort to know that not everything does. 

For example, I still get mail for my Dad. It has chased me through three addresses since he died 13 years ago and he never lived with me. Pleas for donations of some type, usually. I even get emails, and he never owned a computer. Given this, it is surprising that I don’t get calls for his last chance to lock in on that car warranty.

The post below, from 2010 originally, is a product of this discovery. I inadvertently updated it while trying to figure out what happened, and it brought it to the top of the pile. Can’t undo that. And no point in providing snappy graphics I guess, or trying to fix the old posts, because their temporal context will be lost. Oddly enough, this relates to the 2010 post below:

Today I needed to get outside of my head, so I set out for a bit of a longer ride. The destination: the western end of the W&OD trail in Purcellville, about 21 miles one way. The weather complied, and I set off into the climbing hills. Somewhere around Leesburg, there is a decaying barn just off the trail. I recalled this quote (but not the source unfortunately): “You spend all this time building your barn. Then you burn it down. Sometimes the gods burn it down for you. You rebuild it. That's what we do - it restores our sanity.” As Jimi Hendrix also once said, "And so castles made of sand, melt into the sea...eventually." I found myself presented with a choice of burning down the life I built or waiting for the gods to do it for me. I chose to continue building.

***