Nimrod and I spent much of last semester planning a 4 day hiking/backpacking trip across the Galilee during the Pesach vacation. Really, he did most of the planning, while I was sort of our biggest cheerleader. Our plans came to fruition, and from Monday to Thursday of Pesach, we hiked from the Mediterranean coast to the Kinneret. There were 7 of us altogether, and I'll give you the names now: Myself, Nimrod, Elliot, Bill, Danny, Colleen and Pauline.
The Mediterranean.
Our trek began in the coastal city of Nahariyya. Many of you will recognize the name because it was Hezbollah's favorite target during the
Second Lebanon War two summers back. I know it better as a sleepy retirement type community that shuts down at 6 P.M. Not terrificly exciting. Good thing we were just passing through. We took the boardwalk North to the resort of Hof Acziv where we stopped for our first breakfast, and then turned East and found the trail. Along the highway there is a ruined bridge that was bombed by the Haganah during the so called "
Night of the Bridges" as well as
AczivLand, a foreign country declared by local eccentric (lunatic?) Eli Avivi, smack dab in the middle of Israel's North.
Local crackpot declares own fiefdom in the North!
The first leg of the trail was quite boring. We wandered through field's full of Banana plants for 2 and a half hours. It was also hot and free of any shade. It was quite draining. By the time we reached a highway that passed the entrance to Nahal Cziv, we were soaked in sweat and drained of energy. This would become a theme of the trip, although an immensely satisfying one when we finally had the opportunity to break for a while. We settled down in a relatively flat space under a tree and lunched. Lots of tuna, matza, nuts, dried fruits and Nutella. Then we all passed out for a spell. I got about 80 minutes of undisturbed sleep before I rolled over and came to. I found a couple of Carob trees and collected some nice fruit, rolled it up in foil and popped it into my hiking pack for later.
It hadn't even begun to get difficult yet.
We got moving again after the heat of the day had passed (about 3:30) and headed for our campsite that night on the top of one of the many hills in the Galilee. We came within view of the
Monfort Castle ruins by the late afternoon. Our campsite was on the immediately adjacent hill. The climb was just a bitch. We totaled 18 KM that day and the last half KM was murder. These hills are just a lot taller than they look from the bottom. We finally reached the campsite with 1 hour before sunset and I've never been so pleased to take a bag off my back.
An eagle eye view of the castle ruins.
The camping area was quite crowded and Bill and I actually had to go back down into the park to find wood to burn. I'm not sure if this is legal or not. I didn't ask. We eventually were able to put together a respectable fire and make a sumptious feast of rice, cabanos sausages, salad, tehina and potatoes. Keeping Pesach like Israelis keep it (with Sephardi customs) is definitely the way to go. We were in bed by 10, which was actually a late night for us.
Boker tov!
The next morning I discovered that I had bruises on my shoulders were the backpack sits. What a lovely surprise! We got moving about 45 minutes after dawn, down the hill and back into Nahal Cziv. The first half of this hike was quite pleasant. Nahal Cziv is crisscrossed by streams and small waterfalls, and it is very green. The trail led us across the water repeatedly. No one really fell in, which still seems miraculous to me even now. The stones were slippery as hell. The Nahal ends at a water treatment plant below the podunk town of Maalot Tarshiha. Little did we know that the trail would disappear here as well. We ran into several other groups of backpackers, all just as confused as we were. The trail was not there, and the only way out of the valley seemed to be up a windy, sunbaked road leading towards the town. The whole area was filling up with orthos, who seemed to be making some kind of pilgrimage down to the Nahal with their dozens of children. We made the only choice that seemed availible to us, and walked up towards Maalot Tarshiha.
Nahal Cziv.
The town looks like a suburb of Los Angeles, and that is not a compliment. Cookie cutter McMansions lined up in perfect rows all the way up the side of the mountain, and with nary a soul stirring. The walk up had been difficult and draining, and we were looking for a place to rest and eat. I walked up a few levels where I actually encountered a father and his infant son playing in the backyard. I asked him if there was a park nearby where we could rest and find some shade. He looked me up and down, scowled at me and told me that it was "inappropriate for us to be there" and that there was no place for us to guy. What a jackass. We found a park five minutes later.
Nightmare in the suburbs.
I will say this for the guy. While I still think he was a jerk for refusing to help us when we were just looking for a place to sit down, part of me now understands why. We found a shitty little gazebo at the top of the park and hunkered down there for several hours. We ate, napped, and hung our sweaty garments up to dry. We went from hikers to hobos in the span of about 20 minutes. The architect who designed this thing definitely preferred aesthetics to function. The roof of the gazebo was a concentric circle of wooden slabs, leaving large gaps in the shade. This photo will testify to that. Even though this was probably the most 'civilized' place we laid down during the entire trip, it was one of the least comfortable.
Trying to sleep in Maalot Tarshiha
When the time came to move on, we took a bus (there is apparently only 1 bus line in the whole town) to the central bus station. Nimrod and I kept an eye on the bags, while the rest of the group went up to a supermarket to buy water and a few other nonessentials that would nonetheless make our trip a lot more enjoyable. We took a bus out of the town and rode down the side of the mountain, getting off about 10 KM from mount Meron, the second highest mountain in Israel. The ride shaved about 2K off of our hike to the East, but we had made up for it and more through aimless wandering earlier in the day while trying to find the path. We entered another nature preserve and began to hike. The sun was already low in the sky, and we were not destined to make it very far. Everyone had nagging injuries: Elliot was having major problems with blistering on his feet; Danny was having problems with his electrolytes; Colleen had a headache, and I had a left hip that barked at me with every step. It wasn't real pleasant.
The hills of the Galilee.
We would have had to reach the foot of Meron in order to leave the nature preserve and find a place that was kosher for camping that night. It wasn't gonna happen. We pulled out of the wadi and walked about 30 meters up the side of the hill. There we found a flat clearing of about 300 square feet. It was enough for a campsite, and so we settled in and made ourselves at home. I wasn't sure about the legality of my activities the night before. I know for a fact this was illegal. Cest la vie. My comrades had bought a dozen eggs in Maalot Tarshiha at my request, and I made huge quantities of matzo brie for dinner. Half of it was sweet, and the other half a variation on my mom's preferred savory method: Instead of salt I used chicken soup powder. It was a hit. We made more cabanos and had another huge meal. Happy Passover indeed!
Matzo brie! Almost like mom used to make it!
Everyone tucked in for a much quieter night this night. Other than the howling of coyotes and the chirping of insects, there was no sound to be heard. I don't know what time we actually went to bed that night, but it was really early. Everyone was exhausted and we needed some recuperative sleep.
Bedtime in the nature reserve.
We woke up early the next morning and hit the trail. I was feeling a lot better and my hip didn't bother me again for the rest of the hike. Our goal was to reach Meron before we took a real break for breakfast and to fill our water. The morning part of the hike was relatively easy. The hardest thing about it was not stepping in the piles of cow shit that were ubiquitous around the wadi. Apparently, one can raise cattle in Israeli nature preserves. Who knew? We reached Meron by 9:30 and sat down under some trees to chow down.
Lets get moving, eh?
One thing I noticed pretty quickly about this hike is that when you spend several days out in nature, your entire outlook changes. You live from water tap to water tap. There were taps underneath Meron and I just relished being able to fill my water bottles. Your sense of clean changes as well. I would never dream of it at home, but on a hike, licking your spoon clean is perfectly reasonable. Indoors, we call it dirt and it is unwelcome and unhealthy. When you spend four days outside, it becomes soil, and it is no dirtier than the food you carry with you. Finally, I didn't look in a mirror for five days. When I actually got home and saw my own reflection again, it was almost foreign.
Nimrod hams it up for the camera.
But I digress.... We started the climb after a 45 minute break for food/water/rest. The climb was shaded in a majority of places due to the dense flora on the side of the mountain. It made things a lot easier than they would have been out in the sun.
Meron is approximately 1200 KM high. Not the most imposing of mountains, but it's still pretty high up, especially looking out from the top. It startled me when we reached the first lookout point, about 200 meters below the summit, just how close we were to the Lebanese border. We could see well into Lebanon from the top of the mountain, and the physical difference between the two sides of the border was so striking, I could almost picture the border line, as if on a map. South of the border, Israel's fields were green and alive, dotted with towns. North of the border into Lebanon, everything had the color of dried out brush, a sort of grayish brown.
The Northern view from Mount Meron.
Once we reached the top, we searched for a decent place to eat and take our customary siesta. When we didn't find one, we hunkered down under some low lying trees and made the best of the situation. It wasn't a great place to be - rocky, thorny and with a really low canopy - but we made it work. At least it wasn't terrificly buggy. The walk down the far side of the mountain was just a breeze. It wasn't steep, the path was nice and wide, and there was a cool breeze as the sun got a little lower in the sky. We walked through a couple of vineyards along the way. Our planned campsite that evening was just below the grave of Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai, which explains why we saw so many black hatters hiking below the mountain. It's some kind of hysterical watching these guys struggle to hike and climb over rocks while wearing their uncomfortable dress clothes.
"Take to the highway, won't you lend me your name...."
We could hear the campsite from 1/2 KM away. It was more horrible than I could have imagined: Hundreds of 14 - 16 year old Israelis crammed into a small space, with tents packed together so tightly that you couldn't walk between them. It was like a refugee camp for teenagers. I had to wash the smell of the hormones off my skin after going all the way in to use the water taps. We camped about 5 minutes up the road from the campsite, along with a handful of other hiker groups, who hoped to sleep that night. We set up under a big oak tree with low hanging branches. Everyone was in bed within a half hour of sundown that night - we had a looooong day ahead of us. With about 20 KM to go to reach the Kinneret, we knew we had to get an early start and really push ourselves.
I just despise teenagers.
We were up before dawn, getting ready to roll out with first light. We filled our bottles and entered Nahal Amud, heading mostly South at this point. The trail in Nahal Amud is divided into two parts: The upper nahal, which is wet and shaded in many places, but also features the most difficult terrain we would encounter along the way. The lower nahal is a lot easier, but generally unshaded, dry and prickly. There would be nowhere to fill water along the trail, so I left with 8 liters worth in my pack. Even that would run out before we finally reached the Kinneret.
Filling up before dawn.
The first few hours were easy enough, and we were making good time. By 7 A.M., we had already gone 4 KM and people were beginning to wonder about breakfast. I really cracked the whip though. If we stopped for too long and didn't put some ground behind us while the conditions were favorable, we simply wouldn't make it. We stopped and put enough food in our bellies to continue on, and then we pressed forward. The sun rose, the weather began to get hot, and we started to climb. Up and down. Across. Repeat. It was atrocious. We were essentially rock climbing up and down a cliff face for several hours, and making really slow progress at that. Still we pushed on. I got giggly along the way, which probaly had something to do with my brain boiling in the heat. By 11, the temperature was in the high 90's. Some of us nearly had to drag the others along, but we reached our first destination around that time. There is a highway that seperates upper Nahal Amud from lower Nahal Amud, and there is a tunnel underneath the highway for hikers to travel through. We planned to stop here for lunch.
This isn't really a trail, but they marked it as one anyway.
As we exited the trail and made for the tunnel, a pipe that was lying dry suddenly burst with water, from what I can only assume to be industrial runoff. The water flowed down a slight slope towards the road, slowed by rocks and garbage lying in the canal. We paid little attention to it and wearily trudged on towards our brunch spot. When we finally sat down in the tunnel, someone noticed that part of the floor was discolored. That's when we heard the rushing of the water. This video is a little Blair Witch
esque, but it should give you all a sense of what this was like.
"The Floodening"
The water would continue to slowly flow by while we ate and rested. It actually helped push a cool breeze through the tunnel, on what would turn out to be the hottest day of the year. Some people rinsed their hands and faces in the flow. I did not. We had marched 11 KM before breakfast, which was crucial, but we had a long way to go and I didn't want the day to disappear on us. So, with a chorus of complaints, I pushed us back out onto the trail by a quarter to 1, with the promise that we would stop and rest in the shade every half hour.
Canned tuna goes great with industrial waste.
The terrain would prove to be simpler in the lower nahal, but the heat was oppressive. People began to have electrolyte problems again and we all started drinking these wretched concoctions of salt, sugar and water in order to keep our heads on straight. As we walked, the Kinerret became the only thing in our minds, the only thing that kept us moving. Finally at around 3:30 the heat began to lesson and the sun dipped behind the cliff face in certain places, giving us needed relief from the heat. It was a struggle every step of the way. We reached the so called "Amud", a huge rock formation that looks like a stand, by 4.
Nimrod takes his displeasure at the weather out on the amud.
The rock formation signals the end of Nahal Amud, and finally, mercifully, our goal came into view. As we walked up and out of the nahal, we rounded a bend and there stood the Golan Heights directly before us. We could catch the occasional glimpse of water below it too. Pauline broke open a grapefruit along the way down to the lake, and the sugar rush revitalized me. The last push wasn't tough, but it was further than it appeared to us at first. It took another hour and a half, but we reached the Kinerret. Tiberias hung over us, beautiful and imposing.
If I didn't give you one gratuitous shot of me sitting and sweating,
you wouldn't truly be able to experience this hike.
We stayed at the so called "Hof Extreme" that night. The name was the only thing extreme about it. Even so, there was nothing quite so wonderful as finally reaching our goal and knowing that the hike was over. The director of the campsite drove us up to a town nearby to get some supplies, and we feasted that night and again in the morning. Tons of cabanos, matzo brie, rice, salads, tehina, soft drinks, and a huge watermelon. We toasted our success and stayed up past 10 o'clock - a really late night! There were 7 or 8 dogs that live at the camp site so I got to play with doggies too!
Sunrise over the Kinneret.
The next morning we heated up and ate as much of our leftovers as we could and then one of the puppies finished the rest. Let me tell you, he would have been double fisting this stuff if he had fists! We caught a bus to Tiberias mid morning and prepared for the trip back to Haifa. The ride West was over in under an hour, which wasn't surprising but still seemed incredible to me. We had worked incredibly hard to march over mountain and stream for four days, but rode back in air conditioning in less than 60 minutes. A trip like this makes one appreciate technology a little more, but it also makes one really stop to appreciate nature. Despite the aches and pains, I wouldn't change a thing about this hike.
These filthy dogs were seriously starved for attention.
Breakfast in Nahal Cziv
Always stretch before strenuous exercise.
Trying to work out the aches and pains.
Making dinner....
...and eating breakfast.
The siesta is key.
Our last rest before the Kinneret.
Searching for a place to camp out at night.
Danny tries to beat the heat in Nahal Amud.
Heading home.
