Monday morning we had a lovely breakfast at our Angel's and then walked straight north through town, rather than back out the west side we'd come in the day before (towns like this one in Israel tend to have decidedly clear entrances and exits, so we were kind of finding our own way, since this didn't seem to be a gated town like some are).
The GPS had indicated a walking route toward the north, so we gave it a go. It was nice to see a different part of town, and we found the end of it...then we kind of off-roaded through a construction site -- watching for any movement of construction equipment, but setting aside our American, "Ooo, I don't know if we're allowed to walk through here..." and channeling our inner Israeli, "Yalla, the trail is over there; let's go." -- we navigated the piles of white gravel until we found the to-be end of the city. Then once again channeling our inner Israeli we scrambled down a "cliff" of dirt (step, slide, step, slide) and presto we were outside the north of the city on solid ground. Ein Baya ("No problem.")
We walked across some fields and found a trail that ran parallel to the INT, and eventually joined up with it, and then we were on our way. Up and down the hills we went, always a bit more up than down, we were headed for the second highest point on the national trail - not the steepest or longest ascent, since we began the day far above sea level, but still we climbed on and off the whole day.
At one of our rest stops we met a woman from Germany who is hiking the whole trail south to north straight through. She was impressive! And so laid back. She had just finished the desert, on her own, tenting and climbing, and being an all-around badass, and now on Trail Day 22 she was picking up the pace, planning to do three book days in two days, to give her more cushion at the end in case she wanted to visit any tourist spots or whatnot -- her flight was booked for two days after she planned to complete the trail. Two days!! Clearly she had no patience for, ya know, getting sick, or bad weather, or...anything getting in her way. I didn't see her cape, but she probably had it tucked in to help with aerodynamics and hiking speed and such. These people are so cool!
So, let's see. Although this was one of our longest days, I only have two pictures, and since it was nearly a week ago, my memories are quite faded, but I do remember singing quite a bit -- several songs that one of my favorite babysitters used to sing to us as kids (Waltzing with Bears, Marvelous Little Toy, the one about the old lady who swallowed a fly...), and Camp Stevens songs from my phone's playlist (and other John Denver songs I've added to it).
At one point I was happily singing off-key along to California Dreamin', and we turned a bend to greet two other hikers heading northbound. They didn't join in, but they smiled. :)
An interesting pair: the one who looked somewhat Israeli claimed to be from Israel, though his English had a French accent, and at one point he spoke a phrase in French a little under his breath ("Je ne sais pas..."). The other looked straight *straight* out of Portland. I could not believe it when he greeted us in Hebrew. I thought for sure when I mentioned I was from Oregon, we'd have a great connection and he'd tell us all about his own special home brew recipe and pet iguana who juggles and plays the ukulele. But no. Despite his big beard, and hat and shirt with the sewn on words, "Happy Hippie," and skinny jeans (no, not really, but he really could have been), and...oh I don't remember, his whole Portland vibe (or it could have been Venice Beach), he claimed to be from a small town near the airport in Israel. Go figure. We chatted briefly about the trail in each direction we'd just hiked, and then with well-wishes all around we all headed on our ways. I kept waiting for the westcoastbestcoast guy to break character and admit his origins, but it never happened. Such commitment to the role! Admirable. ;)
At every peak, K spotted the next and wondered if it might be Mt. Amasa, our spot for the night. A quick glance at the watch and a lil quick division of distance over time repeatedly led me to doubt it...and then when the time was right, we arrived. Didn't even see the peak coming because it seems we'd been pretty much on level with it for a while by the time we made it to Kibbutz Amasa.
The Angel we'd talked to on the phone (well, K talked to -- she did all the Angel phone calls, and I did all the GPS bus finding and whatnot), he told us we'd be staying in the Kibbutz's hiker room, and when we arrived we didn't need to call, just go to the center, past the playground, and look for the sign or ask someone where it was. Turns out before we even got to the Kibbutz entrance there was a sign. Love it! We saw our trail marker to start the next morning, and turned off to the left in search of the room.
Found a house made of mud. Remember the mud?!? We thought it would be so fitting if that was the hiker room, but no, it was a bit further on.
We were greeted by a very cute welcome committee chair:
And then found the door. Look! It even has an INT trail marker on it. :-D
We finally made the pasta that we'd bought many days before -- Angels kept feeding us, so we hadn't had occasion yet to cook it, but it made a good dinner+breakfast here. ;)
We had again hiked at a good pace, so we'd gotten in pretty early for trail days. Thankfully that meant we had settled in pretty well before the other two arrived. We then got to be the welcoming crew, showing them around the room, "Here're the three bunk beds; I'm using this one, and she's got that one; here's the kumkum (for boiling water); sure, you can use that electric socket for charging; here's the hikers' library box; yes, the shower has hot water..."
These two hikers had met on the trail today. The German one had just finished hiking up from Eilat, through the desert (all the props to him and everyone else who takes on that venture!), and the Israeli had recently finished his military service and just began the Shvil that day from Arad. He didn't seem to know much about it, and it looked like maybe the German guy was kind of taking him under his wing. I love trail culture. :)
At sunset the Jewish guy stepped outside to do his evening prayers. A bit after that, the Buddhist guy climbed onto a top bunk so he could sit tall for his meditation. The Atheist across the room wrote in her journal, while the Christian lay in bed talking silently with her God. I thought we sounded like a setup for a joke: "A Jew, Buddhist, Christian, and Atheist walk into a hiker's room...and they chatted and joked and had a lovely time." Okay, so the punch line is a bit anticlimactic. But really, this land has had enough punchlines for way too many lifetimes already. We went to bed.
The next morning we all were stirring in our beds around the same time (the Israeli had opted against a top bunk, and instead pulled one of the mattresses down onto the ground between the bunks). I got up and snagged the bathroom first - oh this bathroom! It was the source of much amusement to K and I because the seat was not attached to the toilet, so you had to sit very carefully, and then it turned out that the lid wasn't attached to the seat, so as you're in close quarters, doing, ya know, your private business, in the other room they all hear the lid as it clatters onto the ground and slides across the room. Then they hear a flush. And then a minute later they hear you trying to get out. Unlocking the door. Trying to open it. Trying again. Checking the lock. Pulling the door again. Pause. Snicker. Relocking the lock. Unlocking it. Push, pull, phew!
We laughed about it several times. The boys didn't seem to get it as much. Or maybe they were trying not to laugh out of politeness. It was pretty funny.
Tuesday we had a leisurely breakfast of our leftover pasta and then hit the trail for our last day down to Arad! (And then one more to pick up the day we'd had to skip before Jerusalem.)
Almost there!
The GPS had indicated a walking route toward the north, so we gave it a go. It was nice to see a different part of town, and we found the end of it...then we kind of off-roaded through a construction site -- watching for any movement of construction equipment, but setting aside our American, "Ooo, I don't know if we're allowed to walk through here..." and channeling our inner Israeli, "Yalla, the trail is over there; let's go." -- we navigated the piles of white gravel until we found the to-be end of the city. Then once again channeling our inner Israeli we scrambled down a "cliff" of dirt (step, slide, step, slide) and presto we were outside the north of the city on solid ground. Ein Baya ("No problem.")
We walked across some fields and found a trail that ran parallel to the INT, and eventually joined up with it, and then we were on our way. Up and down the hills we went, always a bit more up than down, we were headed for the second highest point on the national trail - not the steepest or longest ascent, since we began the day far above sea level, but still we climbed on and off the whole day.
At one of our rest stops we met a woman from Germany who is hiking the whole trail south to north straight through. She was impressive! And so laid back. She had just finished the desert, on her own, tenting and climbing, and being an all-around badass, and now on Trail Day 22 she was picking up the pace, planning to do three book days in two days, to give her more cushion at the end in case she wanted to visit any tourist spots or whatnot -- her flight was booked for two days after she planned to complete the trail. Two days!! Clearly she had no patience for, ya know, getting sick, or bad weather, or...anything getting in her way. I didn't see her cape, but she probably had it tucked in to help with aerodynamics and hiking speed and such. These people are so cool!
So, let's see. Although this was one of our longest days, I only have two pictures, and since it was nearly a week ago, my memories are quite faded, but I do remember singing quite a bit -- several songs that one of my favorite babysitters used to sing to us as kids (Waltzing with Bears, Marvelous Little Toy, the one about the old lady who swallowed a fly...), and Camp Stevens songs from my phone's playlist (and other John Denver songs I've added to it).
At one point I was happily singing off-key along to California Dreamin', and we turned a bend to greet two other hikers heading northbound. They didn't join in, but they smiled. :)
An interesting pair: the one who looked somewhat Israeli claimed to be from Israel, though his English had a French accent, and at one point he spoke a phrase in French a little under his breath ("Je ne sais pas..."). The other looked straight *straight* out of Portland. I could not believe it when he greeted us in Hebrew. I thought for sure when I mentioned I was from Oregon, we'd have a great connection and he'd tell us all about his own special home brew recipe and pet iguana who juggles and plays the ukulele. But no. Despite his big beard, and hat and shirt with the sewn on words, "Happy Hippie," and skinny jeans (no, not really, but he really could have been), and...oh I don't remember, his whole Portland vibe (or it could have been Venice Beach), he claimed to be from a small town near the airport in Israel. Go figure. We chatted briefly about the trail in each direction we'd just hiked, and then with well-wishes all around we all headed on our ways. I kept waiting for the westcoastbestcoast guy to break character and admit his origins, but it never happened. Such commitment to the role! Admirable. ;)
At every peak, K spotted the next and wondered if it might be Mt. Amasa, our spot for the night. A quick glance at the watch and a lil quick division of distance over time repeatedly led me to doubt it...and then when the time was right, we arrived. Didn't even see the peak coming because it seems we'd been pretty much on level with it for a while by the time we made it to Kibbutz Amasa.
The Angel we'd talked to on the phone (well, K talked to -- she did all the Angel phone calls, and I did all the GPS bus finding and whatnot), he told us we'd be staying in the Kibbutz's hiker room, and when we arrived we didn't need to call, just go to the center, past the playground, and look for the sign or ask someone where it was. Turns out before we even got to the Kibbutz entrance there was a sign. Love it! We saw our trail marker to start the next morning, and turned off to the left in search of the room.
Found a house made of mud. Remember the mud?!? We thought it would be so fitting if that was the hiker room, but no, it was a bit further on.
We were greeted by a very cute welcome committee chair:
And then found the door. Look! It even has an INT trail marker on it. :-D
We finally made the pasta that we'd bought many days before -- Angels kept feeding us, so we hadn't had occasion yet to cook it, but it made a good dinner+breakfast here. ;)
We had again hiked at a good pace, so we'd gotten in pretty early for trail days. Thankfully that meant we had settled in pretty well before the other two arrived. We then got to be the welcoming crew, showing them around the room, "Here're the three bunk beds; I'm using this one, and she's got that one; here's the kumkum (for boiling water); sure, you can use that electric socket for charging; here's the hikers' library box; yes, the shower has hot water..."
These two hikers had met on the trail today. The German one had just finished hiking up from Eilat, through the desert (all the props to him and everyone else who takes on that venture!), and the Israeli had recently finished his military service and just began the Shvil that day from Arad. He didn't seem to know much about it, and it looked like maybe the German guy was kind of taking him under his wing. I love trail culture. :)
At sunset the Jewish guy stepped outside to do his evening prayers. A bit after that, the Buddhist guy climbed onto a top bunk so he could sit tall for his meditation. The Atheist across the room wrote in her journal, while the Christian lay in bed talking silently with her God. I thought we sounded like a setup for a joke: "A Jew, Buddhist, Christian, and Atheist walk into a hiker's room...and they chatted and joked and had a lovely time." Okay, so the punch line is a bit anticlimactic. But really, this land has had enough punchlines for way too many lifetimes already. We went to bed.
The next morning we all were stirring in our beds around the same time (the Israeli had opted against a top bunk, and instead pulled one of the mattresses down onto the ground between the bunks). I got up and snagged the bathroom first - oh this bathroom! It was the source of much amusement to K and I because the seat was not attached to the toilet, so you had to sit very carefully, and then it turned out that the lid wasn't attached to the seat, so as you're in close quarters, doing, ya know, your private business, in the other room they all hear the lid as it clatters onto the ground and slides across the room. Then they hear a flush. And then a minute later they hear you trying to get out. Unlocking the door. Trying to open it. Trying again. Checking the lock. Pulling the door again. Pause. Snicker. Relocking the lock. Unlocking it. Push, pull, phew!
We laughed about it several times. The boys didn't seem to get it as much. Or maybe they were trying not to laugh out of politeness. It was pretty funny.
Tuesday we had a leisurely breakfast of our leftover pasta and then hit the trail for our last day down to Arad! (And then one more to pick up the day we'd had to skip before Jerusalem.)
Almost there!
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