The last day on this middle third of the trail heads out of the trees and grasses and hills, and drops down to the desert. We could see a stark difference standing on top of the ridge, looking at the forests to our right and all the brown and small spiny bushes and dust to our left. Then we saw our first camels of the trail! Clearly we were headed toward the desert. :)
We also stopped for a bit to watch another Stortex (stork vortex) and contemplate their purpose. If you know why they do this, please do share.
Not too long into our day we could already see Arad off in the distance. We knew it would still be many hours before we arrived, but it's always exciting to have the end in sight!
As we came more toward the desert, we saw a shift in insects and flowers. I didn't get a picture of the neat white beatle, but these little white flowers were cool up close and as a field with one of the many Bedouin dogs we came across during the day (the trail goes actually through a Bedouin village, and one of the dogs was (understandably) very displeased with us marching through so presumptuously).
We hiked up a hill to get a look at our final Tel of the hike, Tel Arad, and then down the other side in search of the elusive Loess Irises. Not that irises, like, hide or anything, but K seems to have an iris curse so that every time she tries to come see them she's either too early or too late to see them bloom.
But we *did* find a few! (She was hoping to see the whole side of the hill all irised-up, but we were just a little early for that. Lots of leaves and buds though, and a few blossoms!)
We spent the afternoon leapfrogging two other hikers. They passed us, then we took a shorter way over the Tel rather than around it and passed them. Then they passed us again as we sought irises; we passed them as they took a break under one of the few trees; later we took a break in Arad Park and they passed us a final time. The last time we saw them it was incredibly picturesque. They were taking a break, sitting on the side of a hill overlooking a riverbed as a herd of sheep descended one hill and climbed the next, and in the distance a herd of camels grazed on top of another hill, backgrounded by white puffy clouds and bright blue sky. Pictures can't do it justice, of course, but it was a really beautiful site as a wrap up to the whole trip, and hopefully foreshadowing my return in a few years to pick up where I left off and complete the trail through the desert to Eilat.
If I do get to come back and finish the INT, I plan to do so by joining a group - for safety and for comfort. There are organizations that coordinate the trips, supplying food and water, and carrying the tents and sleeping bags to the stopping place each night. You hike with the group during the day and then work together to cook and clean each night and morning in the camp. It would be a very different experience than I just had, but I think it would be a wise choice for me to attempt the desert section. :)
We continued on for the last few kilometers, seeing more signs of the desert - the remains of a sheep at the bottom of one hill, and new kinds of rocks - some that looked incredibly like hunks of meat!
They made me think of Jesus fasting in the wilderness (this is part of the Israeli "wilderness") and seeing stones like these that look like meat, and others that look like bread, and then being tempted to turn some into food when challenged about his identity. Aren't we all so tempted when our identity or qualifications or whatnot are challenged! Anyway, incredible to see the drastic changes in the landscape in just one day of hiking.
As we climbed to Arad, we took some final looks over the way we'd come, able to spy Mt. Amasa in the distance and trace the path we'd walked all day, and then we turned our faces south again, climbed the last bit, and arrived. So surreal. I can hardly believe we did it. We stopped at the first gas station we came to to visit the facilities and celebrate with some ice cream, then we followed the trail markers to the center of town, and touched the pole that the final one (for us) was painted on, and welcomed each other to Arad. Yahoo!
Before heading to the Angel's for the night, we stopped for a celebratory dinner, and then by a grocery store to grab some evening snacks (it was still early, so we figured we'd get hungry again before bed), and breakfast goodies. Our Trail Angels for the night actually no longer live in Arad, but they kept their house there so they can visit, and when they're not in town they open it to travelers and hikers. So awesome. :)
We were excited to have our own space to unwind from the trail and putt putt around the next morning. Well, as Kathryn Schulz eloquently describes much of life: "I thought this one thing was going to happen, and something else happened instead."
We had taken our time with dinner, grocery shopping, and meandering through the town to the house a few kilometers away, so when we arrived it was after dark. But no one was awaiting us, so we'd figured arrival time didn't matter.
We went to the place where the key was hidden...no key. We looked around in the dark using my phone's flashlight...no key. We wondered if we had the right house and imagined the rightful owners coming out to see us sniffing around their property looking for hidden keys. (When the Angel had told K the address, it had sounded like an odd one for Israel, but then we had figured out that K had heard the Hebrew word "Nof" as the English word "North," and then we'd found the place. When we couldn't find the key I wondered if our deductive reasoning had led us astray. Super awkward if we were at the wrong house.)
While K stepped away from the house to call and ask for clarification, I kept looking, and just as she was getting no answer on the phone, I found the key. We opened the door, and the light switches didn't work, but the Angel had mentioned there were some things about the house that she'd have to explain when we got there - since no one lives there, there are a few wonky things with the electricity, etc.. So we entered in the dark, with just my cell's flashlight. But as I entered, I saw a glow around the corner and heard what sounded like a soft television on in the living room. My calls of "Shalom?" and "Hello?" elicited no response.
When I turned the corner I saw a man lying placidly on one side of the couch with his sleeping bag, backpack, and its contents strewn across the other side. He was watching a video on his phone. "Oh, hi..." I greeted him tentatively.
"Hi."
Silence.
"Um..."
And then K came around the corner, "Oh!"
I ventured another initiation to a conversation, "Um...are we in the wrong place?" I figured with our packs and such that our identities were pretty clear - and besides that, if this was the wrong place, then we had just walked into some guy's house randomly. Figured he'd offer an explanation. Nope!
"No. You're in the right place."
. . .
"Oh...she didn't mention there would be another hiker here..."
"She didn't know."
"Oh, I see...um...uh..."
Really, it takes something very special to leave me totally speechless.
Finally, as I stood there trying to come up with a next statement or question or something to seek more Gricean Maximish cooperation to the conversation.
"I came yesterday, but I'm sick, so I stayed an extra night, but I didn't tell her."
Well. That explains it. Huh.
I introduced myself.
"Hi."
K introduced herself.
"Hi. Nice to meet you."
His language sounded American. I wasn't sure if we were having a weird cross-cultural, different norms of conversation experience.
"Nice to me you, too, Mr...?" (Okay, I didn't say "Mr.", but I used the kind of intonation that indicates I'm asking you to fill in the blank with your name. Afterall, I feel like if I'm going to share a house with you, I should at least know your name. Asking too much?)
He did reciprocate then.
"Where're you from, J?"
"Toronto."
"Oh, well nice to meet you."
We walked away. Clearly J wasn't overly thrilled to see us, either. (Really it's understandable since he was so sick and may have expected to have the house to himself for a couple more days. It was still unexpected behavior and left me and K a bit stumped.)
We went around the house, exploring which lights did and did not turn on, which rooms had mattresses and which had random pieces of furniture, or wood, or trash. And we searched the kitchen for a fridge, and a way to boil water...to no avail. We put our yogurt and milk back outside on the porch hoping it would be cold enough overnight to keep it safe to eat in the morning, and looked for blankets and for the switch to turn on the water heater for showers...we lost that hide and seek game, too. We asked J. He didn't know and didn't seem to care. He's been here two days with no shower? That can't feel nice. (Oh yes, he had mentioned that he'd just come off the southern stint of the trail. Kudos for him, and I figured that may explain the oddity. I might be totally wiped to the point of social disregard, too, if I tried that on my own!)
Thankfully the Angel called us back later and gave us the house orientation. Yes, there *was* a small refrigerator hiding in one of the cabinets under the counter. Yes, there was a water heater switch hiding in a mud room we'd missed. And we finally figured out how to get the stove to work so we could boil water for our snacks now and tea/coffee in the morning. J went to sleep in the living room (next to the kitchen), so we made our snacks and ate them as quietly as we could and chatted in whispers and signs.
Then to bed. With no blankets. We got out our sleepsheets (shaped like a sleeping bag, but made of sheet-like material), put on our warmest clothes, and hoped we could fall sleep. It wasn't too bad...until it was. We both woke around 3am shivering. I tried a few ways to try to warm up and finally concluded by pulling the dirty old thin mattress from the other side of the room over and balanced it over myself. A bit uncomfortable, but definitely warmer. Sigh. Back to sleep.
And that concluded our hike from Tel Aviv to Arad; ta daaaa!
The next day we made our way back up to Jerusalem, repacked a bit at the hostel.
And we had a very nice lunch at Tmol Shilshom, a fantastic vegetarian restaurant, slash, artists' and writers' hub.
Then we bussed down to Kibbutz Tzova so tomorrow we could hit the trail nearby to pick up the 19 kms we had missed during the rain. We found that the hiker's room wouldn't work for us with the equipment we had (better suited for camping hikers), so we caught the bus on its next circle (same driver!) and returned to the hostel for the night. So nice and warm. :)
Then Friday we got up, bussed to Messilat Zion, busted out the missing 19 kilometers, and bam! Our goals for the hike were met!
Then we hitched back to Jerusalem (great to be back northish where hitching is more common) for me to pick up the rest of my stuff and return to Haifa for the weekend. Had a great final visit there, and then whoosh down to Tel Aviv, and at 5am we hopped on the plane through Brussels and back to D.C.! Phew, what a whirlwind, and what a great time!
We also stopped for a bit to watch another Stortex (stork vortex) and contemplate their purpose. If you know why they do this, please do share.
Not too long into our day we could already see Arad off in the distance. We knew it would still be many hours before we arrived, but it's always exciting to have the end in sight!
As we came more toward the desert, we saw a shift in insects and flowers. I didn't get a picture of the neat white beatle, but these little white flowers were cool up close and as a field with one of the many Bedouin dogs we came across during the day (the trail goes actually through a Bedouin village, and one of the dogs was (understandably) very displeased with us marching through so presumptuously).
We hiked up a hill to get a look at our final Tel of the hike, Tel Arad, and then down the other side in search of the elusive Loess Irises. Not that irises, like, hide or anything, but K seems to have an iris curse so that every time she tries to come see them she's either too early or too late to see them bloom.
But we *did* find a few! (She was hoping to see the whole side of the hill all irised-up, but we were just a little early for that. Lots of leaves and buds though, and a few blossoms!)
We spent the afternoon leapfrogging two other hikers. They passed us, then we took a shorter way over the Tel rather than around it and passed them. Then they passed us again as we sought irises; we passed them as they took a break under one of the few trees; later we took a break in Arad Park and they passed us a final time. The last time we saw them it was incredibly picturesque. They were taking a break, sitting on the side of a hill overlooking a riverbed as a herd of sheep descended one hill and climbed the next, and in the distance a herd of camels grazed on top of another hill, backgrounded by white puffy clouds and bright blue sky. Pictures can't do it justice, of course, but it was a really beautiful site as a wrap up to the whole trip, and hopefully foreshadowing my return in a few years to pick up where I left off and complete the trail through the desert to Eilat.
If I do get to come back and finish the INT, I plan to do so by joining a group - for safety and for comfort. There are organizations that coordinate the trips, supplying food and water, and carrying the tents and sleeping bags to the stopping place each night. You hike with the group during the day and then work together to cook and clean each night and morning in the camp. It would be a very different experience than I just had, but I think it would be a wise choice for me to attempt the desert section. :)
We continued on for the last few kilometers, seeing more signs of the desert - the remains of a sheep at the bottom of one hill, and new kinds of rocks - some that looked incredibly like hunks of meat!
They made me think of Jesus fasting in the wilderness (this is part of the Israeli "wilderness") and seeing stones like these that look like meat, and others that look like bread, and then being tempted to turn some into food when challenged about his identity. Aren't we all so tempted when our identity or qualifications or whatnot are challenged! Anyway, incredible to see the drastic changes in the landscape in just one day of hiking.
As we climbed to Arad, we took some final looks over the way we'd come, able to spy Mt. Amasa in the distance and trace the path we'd walked all day, and then we turned our faces south again, climbed the last bit, and arrived. So surreal. I can hardly believe we did it. We stopped at the first gas station we came to to visit the facilities and celebrate with some ice cream, then we followed the trail markers to the center of town, and touched the pole that the final one (for us) was painted on, and welcomed each other to Arad. Yahoo!
Before heading to the Angel's for the night, we stopped for a celebratory dinner, and then by a grocery store to grab some evening snacks (it was still early, so we figured we'd get hungry again before bed), and breakfast goodies. Our Trail Angels for the night actually no longer live in Arad, but they kept their house there so they can visit, and when they're not in town they open it to travelers and hikers. So awesome. :)
We were excited to have our own space to unwind from the trail and putt putt around the next morning. Well, as Kathryn Schulz eloquently describes much of life: "I thought this one thing was going to happen, and something else happened instead."
We had taken our time with dinner, grocery shopping, and meandering through the town to the house a few kilometers away, so when we arrived it was after dark. But no one was awaiting us, so we'd figured arrival time didn't matter.
We went to the place where the key was hidden...no key. We looked around in the dark using my phone's flashlight...no key. We wondered if we had the right house and imagined the rightful owners coming out to see us sniffing around their property looking for hidden keys. (When the Angel had told K the address, it had sounded like an odd one for Israel, but then we had figured out that K had heard the Hebrew word "Nof" as the English word "North," and then we'd found the place. When we couldn't find the key I wondered if our deductive reasoning had led us astray. Super awkward if we were at the wrong house.)
While K stepped away from the house to call and ask for clarification, I kept looking, and just as she was getting no answer on the phone, I found the key. We opened the door, and the light switches didn't work, but the Angel had mentioned there were some things about the house that she'd have to explain when we got there - since no one lives there, there are a few wonky things with the electricity, etc.. So we entered in the dark, with just my cell's flashlight. But as I entered, I saw a glow around the corner and heard what sounded like a soft television on in the living room. My calls of "Shalom?" and "Hello?" elicited no response.
When I turned the corner I saw a man lying placidly on one side of the couch with his sleeping bag, backpack, and its contents strewn across the other side. He was watching a video on his phone. "Oh, hi..." I greeted him tentatively.
"Hi."
Silence.
"Um..."
And then K came around the corner, "Oh!"
I ventured another initiation to a conversation, "Um...are we in the wrong place?" I figured with our packs and such that our identities were pretty clear - and besides that, if this was the wrong place, then we had just walked into some guy's house randomly. Figured he'd offer an explanation. Nope!
"No. You're in the right place."
. . .
"Oh...she didn't mention there would be another hiker here..."
"She didn't know."
"Oh, I see...um...uh..."
Really, it takes something very special to leave me totally speechless.
Finally, as I stood there trying to come up with a next statement or question or something to seek more Gricean Maximish cooperation to the conversation.
"I came yesterday, but I'm sick, so I stayed an extra night, but I didn't tell her."
Well. That explains it. Huh.
I introduced myself.
"Hi."
K introduced herself.
"Hi. Nice to meet you."
His language sounded American. I wasn't sure if we were having a weird cross-cultural, different norms of conversation experience.
"Nice to me you, too, Mr...?" (Okay, I didn't say "Mr.", but I used the kind of intonation that indicates I'm asking you to fill in the blank with your name. Afterall, I feel like if I'm going to share a house with you, I should at least know your name. Asking too much?)
He did reciprocate then.
"Where're you from, J?"
"Toronto."
"Oh, well nice to meet you."
We walked away. Clearly J wasn't overly thrilled to see us, either. (Really it's understandable since he was so sick and may have expected to have the house to himself for a couple more days. It was still unexpected behavior and left me and K a bit stumped.)
We went around the house, exploring which lights did and did not turn on, which rooms had mattresses and which had random pieces of furniture, or wood, or trash. And we searched the kitchen for a fridge, and a way to boil water...to no avail. We put our yogurt and milk back outside on the porch hoping it would be cold enough overnight to keep it safe to eat in the morning, and looked for blankets and for the switch to turn on the water heater for showers...we lost that hide and seek game, too. We asked J. He didn't know and didn't seem to care. He's been here two days with no shower? That can't feel nice. (Oh yes, he had mentioned that he'd just come off the southern stint of the trail. Kudos for him, and I figured that may explain the oddity. I might be totally wiped to the point of social disregard, too, if I tried that on my own!)
Thankfully the Angel called us back later and gave us the house orientation. Yes, there *was* a small refrigerator hiding in one of the cabinets under the counter. Yes, there was a water heater switch hiding in a mud room we'd missed. And we finally figured out how to get the stove to work so we could boil water for our snacks now and tea/coffee in the morning. J went to sleep in the living room (next to the kitchen), so we made our snacks and ate them as quietly as we could and chatted in whispers and signs.
Then to bed. With no blankets. We got out our sleepsheets (shaped like a sleeping bag, but made of sheet-like material), put on our warmest clothes, and hoped we could fall sleep. It wasn't too bad...until it was. We both woke around 3am shivering. I tried a few ways to try to warm up and finally concluded by pulling the dirty old thin mattress from the other side of the room over and balanced it over myself. A bit uncomfortable, but definitely warmer. Sigh. Back to sleep.
And that concluded our hike from Tel Aviv to Arad; ta daaaa!
The next day we made our way back up to Jerusalem, repacked a bit at the hostel.
And we had a very nice lunch at Tmol Shilshom, a fantastic vegetarian restaurant, slash, artists' and writers' hub.
Then we bussed down to Kibbutz Tzova so tomorrow we could hit the trail nearby to pick up the 19 kms we had missed during the rain. We found that the hiker's room wouldn't work for us with the equipment we had (better suited for camping hikers), so we caught the bus on its next circle (same driver!) and returned to the hostel for the night. So nice and warm. :)
Then Friday we got up, bussed to Messilat Zion, busted out the missing 19 kilometers, and bam! Our goals for the hike were met!
Then we hitched back to Jerusalem (great to be back northish where hitching is more common) for me to pick up the rest of my stuff and return to Haifa for the weekend. Had a great final visit there, and then whoosh down to Tel Aviv, and at 5am we hopped on the plane through Brussels and back to D.C.! Phew, what a whirlwind, and what a great time!
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