Thursday night I headed back to Haifa and spent Friday resting, laundrying, and catching up on emails, Glides, Facebook, YouTube, etc.. Saturday morning I got to go worship with my old congregation and catch up a bit with friends. So happy to be back, even if briefly.
After service and socializing, I put my pack back on and walked over to Hadar to catch a Sherut down to Tel Aviv (buses and trains don't run on Shabbat, but luckily from Haifa these shared taxis still run). I took one down to Tel Aviv and met up with my hiking buddy at an Aroma Cafe (one of my favorite old haunts), and we spent a couple hours catching up about the last few days and making the most of the wifi to catch up on computery work before setting off on the hike.
We found our Trail Angel for the night and dropped off our packs, grabbed some dinner - veggie "Chicago" pizza, and then came back and tucked in for the night.
In the morning we found breakfast - and a rainbow! - before finding the trail, and truly starting "Day 1."
This day followed the Yarkon River through Tel Aviv, and we got to see people enjoying the river and park on their Sunday morning rounds...dissipating as the rain began.
We bravely prepped our packs with their plastic (or as Israelis call them, "ny-lon") covers, and K donned her rain jacket. I didn't bother with mine because it's not very comfortable with short sleeves, and the rain was the kind that in Oregon we walk around in all the time. I just left my sweatshirt on and we walked along cheerily chatting and more or less ignoring the weather. I didn't really think it through that in this case it's important to keep things as dry as possible, so you can use them after sunset for dry warmth. Well, live and learn.
There was plenty to see and talk about along the way - mutant mallards, beautiful eucalyptus bark, honeysuckle benches, and of course we were still sharing with each other all we'd done the previous week.
Despite the drizzles, it was a pretty lovely walk.
Then we hit the mud. The paved path we'd been on all through the park turned left, but the trail marker pointed straight ahead. We walked around and about for a bit trying to confirm exactly where we were meant to be, and after a number of confirming indications, we set off beside the field on ground that I'm sure must be solid when it's not saturated.
How can I paint this picture for any who have not experienced hiking through Israeli mud?! So, first of all, it's not really mud. This is that clay stuffff that people use to build houses, and I don't know, fortresses - because it would be totally impenetrable. Every step, it builds under your boot, so after a few steps, you're standing three inches taller on your own self-made platforms. Snazzy, I suppose. But so heavy!!
And you can't really fling the stuff off because it is so suuuuctioned on that if it's coming off, it's gonna take your boot with it. And it throws off your balance, and drags you down, and periodically the mud looks just like all the other mud, but it's really a pond that you just sink right into - we call it quickmud.
And other times it's in-between the swampy clay and quickmud, and is like slick oil, and you'd love to skate on it like ice, but the dang stuff is still sucking onto your boots dragging you down. And every once it a while it just wraps itself around the boot and pulls you in, and you have to finesse your way out, lest it leave you just in your socks (but as you're trying to squirm your right foot out, of course your left is sinking further in). (I couldn't get a good shot of the platform under my shoe because I couldn't lift up my foot and tilt it to see the underside of my shoe without toppling over with the displaced weight.)
After, oh, half an hour of this squirming our way along, and both of us almost falling a half dozen times, I remembered we have an app for this! Well, not an app, per se. We had hiking poles!
With the poles it was much more manageable. Not fast. Not smooth. Not easy. But less likely we'd end up face down in the stuff.
This was pretty much the rest of Day 1. There were some Tels we saw (these are archeological sites where one civilization after another has taken over and built upon the previous, so they form mounds of civilization layers that tell a pretty cool chronological story to archeologists).
And we learned about "Weirs" where rocks are put in rivers to create turbulence, so that bacteria can clean the water faster.
And we spent quite some time walking through tunnels of bamboo. These were a huge relief from the mud, but came so late in the day that my mud-tired feet couldn't truly appreciate them as much as they deserved.
We had to get past a water crossing at one point that the book said was polluted (and our eyes and noses confirmed). The book said to cover our shoes with plastic, but with all the rain, the water level was much higher than any bags would do for us. After much strategizing and discussing and some experimenting and failing, we eventually risked the webbed feet, and just charged through in our water shoes, drying off and replacing our socks and boots on the other side.
As the sun approached the horizon we passed the house of Leah and could soon see the highway down to the south across a stream and several fields. We agreed that we would have to end at the road, rather than finish out the final eight kilometers after that.
Then we couldn't find the next trail marker. We checked the map. We looked every direction. We got out my GPS. We had missed a turn back at the House of Leah. Ugh.
Rather than go back, we could see if we just followed this dirt road, it would curve down soon and lead to the highway where we could find a bus or hitch a ride to the town where we'd spend the night (hitchhiking is legal and pretty common here).
So, yes, sort of the map was right. Sort of not. The road was blocked not too far ahead. We had to cross through a farmer's orchard. I always prefer to respect boundaries and not go on other people's land, but with the sun setting, and the cold coming fast, and the road still far from my tired peds, we made the choice. And the dirt road *did* pass the stream. If you are in a truck.
If you're on foot, the stream passed over the road. We walked back and forth looking for a dry way across, and eventually made do with a kind of dam made up of reeds and gathered trash. (I brought over some extra rocks, logs, garbage to build...felt like a real life initiative game. ;-p)
As we walked down the fields to the road, the sun set and evening came. While hitchhiking is common here, you have to get to an appropriate spot. We walked along the access road parallel to the freeway for a while in the descending darkness and mud. The best place we could find was an interchange where cars chose to exit to one of the main tollways in the country, or continue straight on the freeway we were on. The traffic of merging and lane changes slowed them to a reasonable speed, so we changed from our ridiculously muddy boots into our water shoes (I just could not imagine asking to get in someone's car with those boots on!).
Honestly we weren't there very long, but I was quite anxious as it got quickly colder and darker; we were under streetlights, but all I could think of was how difficult it would be to jump over the guardrail if someone was texting, or trying to get around a slow car, or whatnot, and drifted onto the shoulder not expecting hitchers to be there.
Finally (probably within ten minutes, but it felt long in the cold and dark with sore feet and feeling a bit desperate ;)), someone pulled over. We were so relieved! Ran up to the window and asked, "Le'Rosh HaAyin??" But no, they were exiting to the south. We thanked them and returned to our spot under the light.
A few long minutes later, a second car pulled over. And we repeated the same dialogue. We'd been discussing how our location didn't indicate where we wanted to go, but also that about half of the cars in the closest lane were going straight, so theoretically we should have a shot.
The third car pulled over. And we repeated the dialogue and they drove off.
I had already pulled out my phone to see where else we might be able to catch a ride or a bus. There was nowhere in walking distance. We decided to take the next car wherever it was going, just to get to a better (or at least different!) spot. Thankfully the fourth car came in not too long. We crowded into the back seat beside another pack already taking up one spot, and they drove us onto the toll road and dropped us off at the first exit we came to, a mile or two down the road.
From there we were able to walk a few hundred meters over to a highway, and soon after we arrived to a bus stop, we were able to hop onboard and ride straight into the city.
Our trail angel had originally said we could arrive whenever we arrived, but when we had called in the early afternoon, he said he wouldn't be home between 4:30 and 9:30pm. We assured him there was no way we'd make it before dark. He said sure we would! And we tried to impress upon him the sludgishness of the mudtrail. Anyway, we got to town at about seven, so we plopped ourselves down to dinner, bathroom, rest, and revisit our plans with the data we collected during the day.
My trusty gps showed us our bus options to get to the trail angel's house, and it was on the other side of town, so we figured we'd leave at about 9pm. And then he called. Something had come up, and he wouldn't be home until 10:30. What could we do? Deep breath, check what time the cafe closes, adjust expectations, and be thankful for a place to shower and sleep, eventually. He said his parents were home, but for some reason we couldn't go there until he arrived (we never really figured this out).
We had a lot of re-planning to do, due to the mud, anyway, so we spent the extra time figuring out our next few days, calling trail angels, etc..
Then we caught the bus across town. It was a long ride, but it was warm and we were sitting, so long was perfectly fine. ;)
We got off the bus and had about five blocks to walk uphill. Deep breath and we began. Not twenty steps in, our trail angel came driving up and waved us down. He was towing a trailer and had us throw our packs back there, and I was so relieved to have the uphill ride.
He began to parallel park, and then realized his neighbors had parked too close together for his trailer to fit. He had us help him maneuver it into place, and then go wait by the gate while he parked the car. We hobbled over and stood in the slight sprinkles and watched him figure his way into the spot. Finally he came and walked us through the gate and to the back door, and urged us to be very quiet as we entered, since his parents would be sleeping. We assured him of our silence, and all I wanted was to get in out of the cold, shower, and flop into bed.
He reached for the handle, and then' "Oh, I forgot the keys in the car!"
By now we were convinced this could not be really happening and started looking around for the hidden cameras, and waiting for the cast to jump out and tell us we were on candid camera. We heard him get in the car and turn on the engine. I was sure he was going to drive away and leave us standing their on the porch. My friend laughed at me trying to hold it together (physically holding my hands together to contain my words and heat). When he came back, got almost to us, and then turns around saying, "Oh, I --" I couldn't help letting out a little whimper and, "Oh please, please, no!"
Thankfully he turned back to us and after reminding us please to be quiet and not awake the house, let us in and took us upstairs to show us our room and bathroom. In many Israeli houses, you have to turn on the water heater for a bit before taking a shower. He assured us that their house is not like that and we would have plenty of hot water to our hearts' delight. Not the case. The day had been too long; I went to bed dirty, but dry and warm.
In the morning, there was a steady downpour. As every Israeli has done since, he insisted that we could not possibly hike in the rain, and we must stay for the day and try again tomorrow. We thanked him for his concern and took him up on his offer of a ride, planting ourselves at a nice breakfast place with wifi, next to a Superpharm where I could restock my moleskin and ibuprofen needs, and waited out the storm.
Day 1 we covered about 21 trail kilometers, plus maybe another five or ten getting to our beds for the night. Quite a good trek in that weather! Phew, go us. :)
After service and socializing, I put my pack back on and walked over to Hadar to catch a Sherut down to Tel Aviv (buses and trains don't run on Shabbat, but luckily from Haifa these shared taxis still run). I took one down to Tel Aviv and met up with my hiking buddy at an Aroma Cafe (one of my favorite old haunts), and we spent a couple hours catching up about the last few days and making the most of the wifi to catch up on computery work before setting off on the hike.
We found our Trail Angel for the night and dropped off our packs, grabbed some dinner - veggie "Chicago" pizza, and then came back and tucked in for the night.
In the morning we found breakfast - and a rainbow! - before finding the trail, and truly starting "Day 1."
This day followed the Yarkon River through Tel Aviv, and we got to see people enjoying the river and park on their Sunday morning rounds...dissipating as the rain began.
We bravely prepped our packs with their plastic (or as Israelis call them, "ny-lon") covers, and K donned her rain jacket. I didn't bother with mine because it's not very comfortable with short sleeves, and the rain was the kind that in Oregon we walk around in all the time. I just left my sweatshirt on and we walked along cheerily chatting and more or less ignoring the weather. I didn't really think it through that in this case it's important to keep things as dry as possible, so you can use them after sunset for dry warmth. Well, live and learn.
There was plenty to see and talk about along the way - mutant mallards, beautiful eucalyptus bark, honeysuckle benches, and of course we were still sharing with each other all we'd done the previous week.
Despite the drizzles, it was a pretty lovely walk.
Then we hit the mud. The paved path we'd been on all through the park turned left, but the trail marker pointed straight ahead. We walked around and about for a bit trying to confirm exactly where we were meant to be, and after a number of confirming indications, we set off beside the field on ground that I'm sure must be solid when it's not saturated.
How can I paint this picture for any who have not experienced hiking through Israeli mud?! So, first of all, it's not really mud. This is that clay stuffff that people use to build houses, and I don't know, fortresses - because it would be totally impenetrable. Every step, it builds under your boot, so after a few steps, you're standing three inches taller on your own self-made platforms. Snazzy, I suppose. But so heavy!!
And you can't really fling the stuff off because it is so suuuuctioned on that if it's coming off, it's gonna take your boot with it. And it throws off your balance, and drags you down, and periodically the mud looks just like all the other mud, but it's really a pond that you just sink right into - we call it quickmud.
And other times it's in-between the swampy clay and quickmud, and is like slick oil, and you'd love to skate on it like ice, but the dang stuff is still sucking onto your boots dragging you down. And every once it a while it just wraps itself around the boot and pulls you in, and you have to finesse your way out, lest it leave you just in your socks (but as you're trying to squirm your right foot out, of course your left is sinking further in). (I couldn't get a good shot of the platform under my shoe because I couldn't lift up my foot and tilt it to see the underside of my shoe without toppling over with the displaced weight.)
After, oh, half an hour of this squirming our way along, and both of us almost falling a half dozen times, I remembered we have an app for this! Well, not an app, per se. We had hiking poles!
With the poles it was much more manageable. Not fast. Not smooth. Not easy. But less likely we'd end up face down in the stuff.
This was pretty much the rest of Day 1. There were some Tels we saw (these are archeological sites where one civilization after another has taken over and built upon the previous, so they form mounds of civilization layers that tell a pretty cool chronological story to archeologists).
And we learned about "Weirs" where rocks are put in rivers to create turbulence, so that bacteria can clean the water faster.
We had to get past a water crossing at one point that the book said was polluted (and our eyes and noses confirmed). The book said to cover our shoes with plastic, but with all the rain, the water level was much higher than any bags would do for us. After much strategizing and discussing and some experimenting and failing, we eventually risked the webbed feet, and just charged through in our water shoes, drying off and replacing our socks and boots on the other side.As the sun approached the horizon we passed the house of Leah and could soon see the highway down to the south across a stream and several fields. We agreed that we would have to end at the road, rather than finish out the final eight kilometers after that.
Then we couldn't find the next trail marker. We checked the map. We looked every direction. We got out my GPS. We had missed a turn back at the House of Leah. Ugh.
Rather than go back, we could see if we just followed this dirt road, it would curve down soon and lead to the highway where we could find a bus or hitch a ride to the town where we'd spend the night (hitchhiking is legal and pretty common here).
So, yes, sort of the map was right. Sort of not. The road was blocked not too far ahead. We had to cross through a farmer's orchard. I always prefer to respect boundaries and not go on other people's land, but with the sun setting, and the cold coming fast, and the road still far from my tired peds, we made the choice. And the dirt road *did* pass the stream. If you are in a truck.
If you're on foot, the stream passed over the road. We walked back and forth looking for a dry way across, and eventually made do with a kind of dam made up of reeds and gathered trash. (I brought over some extra rocks, logs, garbage to build...felt like a real life initiative game. ;-p)
As we walked down the fields to the road, the sun set and evening came. While hitchhiking is common here, you have to get to an appropriate spot. We walked along the access road parallel to the freeway for a while in the descending darkness and mud. The best place we could find was an interchange where cars chose to exit to one of the main tollways in the country, or continue straight on the freeway we were on. The traffic of merging and lane changes slowed them to a reasonable speed, so we changed from our ridiculously muddy boots into our water shoes (I just could not imagine asking to get in someone's car with those boots on!).
Honestly we weren't there very long, but I was quite anxious as it got quickly colder and darker; we were under streetlights, but all I could think of was how difficult it would be to jump over the guardrail if someone was texting, or trying to get around a slow car, or whatnot, and drifted onto the shoulder not expecting hitchers to be there.
Finally (probably within ten minutes, but it felt long in the cold and dark with sore feet and feeling a bit desperate ;)), someone pulled over. We were so relieved! Ran up to the window and asked, "Le'Rosh HaAyin??" But no, they were exiting to the south. We thanked them and returned to our spot under the light.
A few long minutes later, a second car pulled over. And we repeated the same dialogue. We'd been discussing how our location didn't indicate where we wanted to go, but also that about half of the cars in the closest lane were going straight, so theoretically we should have a shot.
The third car pulled over. And we repeated the dialogue and they drove off.
I had already pulled out my phone to see where else we might be able to catch a ride or a bus. There was nowhere in walking distance. We decided to take the next car wherever it was going, just to get to a better (or at least different!) spot. Thankfully the fourth car came in not too long. We crowded into the back seat beside another pack already taking up one spot, and they drove us onto the toll road and dropped us off at the first exit we came to, a mile or two down the road.
From there we were able to walk a few hundred meters over to a highway, and soon after we arrived to a bus stop, we were able to hop onboard and ride straight into the city.
Our trail angel had originally said we could arrive whenever we arrived, but when we had called in the early afternoon, he said he wouldn't be home between 4:30 and 9:30pm. We assured him there was no way we'd make it before dark. He said sure we would! And we tried to impress upon him the sludgishness of the mudtrail. Anyway, we got to town at about seven, so we plopped ourselves down to dinner, bathroom, rest, and revisit our plans with the data we collected during the day.
My trusty gps showed us our bus options to get to the trail angel's house, and it was on the other side of town, so we figured we'd leave at about 9pm. And then he called. Something had come up, and he wouldn't be home until 10:30. What could we do? Deep breath, check what time the cafe closes, adjust expectations, and be thankful for a place to shower and sleep, eventually. He said his parents were home, but for some reason we couldn't go there until he arrived (we never really figured this out).
We had a lot of re-planning to do, due to the mud, anyway, so we spent the extra time figuring out our next few days, calling trail angels, etc..
Then we caught the bus across town. It was a long ride, but it was warm and we were sitting, so long was perfectly fine. ;)
We got off the bus and had about five blocks to walk uphill. Deep breath and we began. Not twenty steps in, our trail angel came driving up and waved us down. He was towing a trailer and had us throw our packs back there, and I was so relieved to have the uphill ride.
He began to parallel park, and then realized his neighbors had parked too close together for his trailer to fit. He had us help him maneuver it into place, and then go wait by the gate while he parked the car. We hobbled over and stood in the slight sprinkles and watched him figure his way into the spot. Finally he came and walked us through the gate and to the back door, and urged us to be very quiet as we entered, since his parents would be sleeping. We assured him of our silence, and all I wanted was to get in out of the cold, shower, and flop into bed.
He reached for the handle, and then' "Oh, I forgot the keys in the car!"
By now we were convinced this could not be really happening and started looking around for the hidden cameras, and waiting for the cast to jump out and tell us we were on candid camera. We heard him get in the car and turn on the engine. I was sure he was going to drive away and leave us standing their on the porch. My friend laughed at me trying to hold it together (physically holding my hands together to contain my words and heat). When he came back, got almost to us, and then turns around saying, "Oh, I --" I couldn't help letting out a little whimper and, "Oh please, please, no!"
Thankfully he turned back to us and after reminding us please to be quiet and not awake the house, let us in and took us upstairs to show us our room and bathroom. In many Israeli houses, you have to turn on the water heater for a bit before taking a shower. He assured us that their house is not like that and we would have plenty of hot water to our hearts' delight. Not the case. The day had been too long; I went to bed dirty, but dry and warm.
In the morning, there was a steady downpour. As every Israeli has done since, he insisted that we could not possibly hike in the rain, and we must stay for the day and try again tomorrow. We thanked him for his concern and took him up on his offer of a ride, planting ourselves at a nice breakfast place with wifi, next to a Superpharm where I could restock my moleskin and ibuprofen needs, and waited out the storm.
Day 1 we covered about 21 trail kilometers, plus maybe another five or ten getting to our beds for the night. Quite a good trek in that weather! Phew, go us. :)
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