Heading back to the Trail

So, I'm back!

I lived in Haifa August 2010 through June 2011, and then returned stateside to continue living in our nation's capital for an additional four years before heading back west.

I've been back home for a little over a year and a half, and now have returned to DC and Israel for a couple of months.

It's fascinating to see what I remember and what I don't. Not all that surprising that I can recall places and other visually orienting elements, and I've forgotten street names, bus numbers, and colloquial verbiage. It's all coming back to me. ;-)

On Thursday night my dear friend drove me up to Portland and deposited me at a mutual friend's apartment. After a lovely short visit and mini-sleep I was up at 2:30am to catch the Max over to PDX, and hop on my flight through Houston to D.C.. It was a remarkably smooth journey and K met me outside baggage claim once I'd collected my backpack that I'd parted from all the way back in Portland. Air travel truly is amazing.

I spent three days in DC visiting my favorite coffee shops and other study places, catching up on some critical computer-bound work that had piled up while daily life took precedence back home, as well as visiting my favorite food spots, and dropping in for a stealth visit to my old congregation (west side). Then finished re-packing for the hike, the tour, and the visits, and viola! Onto Dulles!

Once K got through security (we'd just been admiring her water bottle, and neither of us realized of course she'd need to empty it before TSA ;-p), it was smooth sailing through Brussels and to Tel Aviv the next afternoon. We gathered our packs, found an ATM for some local currency, got our Israeli SIM cards, and K helped me arrange my first Trail Angel stay for the next night (more on Trail Angels in posts to come. It's couch surfing specifically for Shvil hikers.) :)

I left K at her Sherut (shared taxi) to Jerusalem, and when my Sherut driver seemed displeased at life, and resistant to driving all the way to Haifa, I left him there on the bench and went to find a train to my old home in the north. I was so thankful to have options! :) This first night back in town I got to stay with my old roommate, in my old room! (Renovated since I left; fancy! ;))

P spoilt me with a delicious dinner and fancy pancakes in the morning. I unpacked and repacked, rearranging the various items I'll need for these first three days on the trail, the successive five, and the things that will wait until I join WSFC and TCW for the tour. Then showered and plopped in bed for a good and much needed night's sleep.

This morning after breakfast I headed out to the bus stop P had reminded me of, to make the trek down the mountain and catch the bus that will take me to the spot where I last left HaShvil (the trail). I'd forgotten the joy of walking out of the house to be greeted by the Mediterranean Sea shining out on the horizon far down below! What a refreshing and energizing surprise. :)

Caught the 115 bus down the hill, and I am now down in Mercaz Hof HaCarmel (the center of the Carmel beach) awaiting my 947 bus southbound to the Or Akiva interchange from which I will walk over to Caesarea. The bus should arrive in about fifteen minutes, and then me and my pack will be on our way! It's been quite a journey to get to the start of this journey. And a great one so far. :)

Day 1 (well, "pre-hike one," since it'll be a few before I join up with Kelli) starts in less than an hour.
Here we go!!

Digging, Kayaking, Meeting, Running, Hiking, Drama-Resolving...what a week! :-D

Well, the time has come. I am awaiting my family (whose flight is delayed a few hours), and my time in Israel is over. I am still quite behind with my blog, but I’ll give you a few highlights to catch up. The week after the hike to Kibbutz Yagur was quite full. It began with renting a car and driving out to the Galil, meeting up with a friend on the Kibbutz where she was volunteering and joining them on an archeological dig at Ginosar for the morning. It was an incredible (albeit very short) experience, digging in three-hundred year old dirt with picks and brushes, finding lots of pottery, a bead, and even some popsicles. I learned about the process of identifying the levels where we were digging, sifting through the dirt for finer finds, and their daily routine. Before the hottest part of the day (though it got quite hot as early as nine or ten – I’d met them at 5am), we packed up our tools and buckets, dusted off a bit, had breakfast, and head out.

I was lucky enough to join them on a day they were having an outing, and an hour later we all piled in pairs into kayaks and rowed our way down the Jordan river to our awaiting bus. We returned to the kibbutz for lunch and then I hopped in my rental and cruised back to Haifa, dropped it off, and caught a bus up to the lab for the lab meeting I was to lead. I had selected the first to articles in a series that is in progress, explaining the transcription process that one of my professors and colleague have designed. The meeting went well, we had some great discussion and laughter, and I think each left with more to digest along the way.

That was Monday. Tuesday I ran in my first 10K race ever – gosh, first one ever and I chose the one that went up and back down a mountain! But it went extremely well, and I was thrilled with my time (just over an hour and five minutes), and…got a T-Shirt for it! I am truly an American in that respect. (My friends here, from Israel, Russia, France, Holland, etc. all inform me that Americans are always wanting T-Shirts from everything they do. I enthusiastically agreed, “T-Shirts are cool!” :-p)

Wednesday…oh dear, I’ve forgotten. I know it was a very full week, with activities every day and every evening, but this one has escaped my mind.

Thursday I met a friend down at Mifratz early in the morning and we caught a bus back out to Kibbutz Yagur to continue on the trail. We conquered the climb to Isfyia so quickly we couldn’t believe we were already to the top (the beauty of the hike and the good company made the couple hours fly by), and then we trekked the additional four miles over to Daliet El Karmel for some breakfast and souvenir scouting (I wanted to have a good idea of the prices, so as to advise my family when we’re in Jerusalem before coming up north). Then we caught a bus and head back down the hill, her to go help our friend pack to leave from the year, and me to Shema.

Shema that day was…dramatic. We had a big balegan, with tears and revenge attempts, which led the head madrich (counselor) to lead the students in a discussion about the pros and cons of revenge (it turned out to be quite deep and I hope memorable for the kids). Partway through it, I had a golden teaching opportunity, and was able to have a great discussion with the instigator of the drama, just she and me discussing it in rapid and emotional ISL and Hebrew – and on my part, gesture and some English thrown in, and we returned to the group with new perspective, arm in arm, smiling. I felt like truly part of the madrichim. And was thrilled. But sad it would be one of my final weeks there for quite some time.

Friday and Saturday mornings I head out again with my neighbor for bike rides down to the beach and back up. She took me on a new route on Saturday, over past Hof HaCarmel, and then up to Horev, before turning back toward home. Quite a feeling of accomplishment, and beautiful views as we panted our way along. :) The following week would bring Shavuot. :)

Shvil Day 12

I am down to a count of days (rather than months or weeks) of my time here. Well, that is, until my family arrives. After they arrive, I will tour them around the land for ten days before leaving them in the Galil while I return to Haifa, pick up my packed cases and head to the airport (them to follow after visiting the Negev and possibly Petra – I’ve got a friend’s wedding to get to). So, while I’ll technically be in the country for the rest of the month, my time living here ends Saturday. Gosh.

The last few weeks have been quite full. I returned full force to research for the week and then took Friday morning to progress further on the Shvil. An early bus dropped me off where I’d left off and I struck out across a field, with great energy and motivation, only to be quickly thwarted by a creek crossing the trail. From the looks of it, quite a few feet deep, and a little swampy. And no rocks to ease the crossing. I decided to walk along the shore in search of a crossing. I did find a pipe that looked like it might serve as a bridge, with a little balance and a lot of caution, but the amount of movement the little pressure on it with just my hands created turned me away from it, and I continued my search.

I knew how wet socks so aggravate blisters, so I was determined to find a dry way across, but as I walked along the southern bank through the reeds, all of a sudden I felt myself step into an invisible marsh. Even when I quickly whipped my eyes back to the ground before my feet, I could not see the dry way out. A sigh of defeat, and I splashed my way across the reed-covered pond to dry land. Still on the south side of the creek. Still separated from the continuing trail. Eventually I found a shallow section where the creek flowed across pavement and under the highway, and I was able to hop across it with no extra wetness than my sneakers had already acquired. To any of you heading out here, this is at HaMovil Junction, and if you’re okay with it, you can skip this corner of the trail by walking along the road to where the trail emerges from the field at the next bus stop. ;-)

Thankfully it was a warm, dry day, and my shoes dried in not too long. When I stopped for my first break, I took the time to remove the damp socks and tie them to my pack to dry while I walked, and replace them with the dry extra ones I regularly bring along. This hike turned out to be a very thank-filled hike. Over and over I found myself being thankful for things my parents taught me, experiences I had as a child, and so on. My mother taught us to always bring along extra socks and underwear on any journey (I amended it in this case, thankfully in the right way, since it was only socks I needed). One time her extra pair of clean socks had been put to good use for my nose when confronted with a cave full of guano. Socks are quite a versatile piece of equipment.

At one bend in a valley, I was a little startled to see fifty or so cows walking, albeit ploddingly, directly at me, and I was glad for the numerous encounters I have had with cows this year, that I was not nearly as disturbed as I would have been at this sight back in September. So far, all the cows I’d encountered were still as I passed, or even walked away from me. It turned out that these were being driven from behind by their cowherd, and I climbed up the side of the valley a little to make way for them. I was also thankful for the sound effect the Narnia moviemakers used for their Minotaurs. Apparently I’d never heard cows roar in real life before, and it would have been quite more alarming if I hadn’t heard it in surround sound before.

As the trail moved near a village and was graced by a familiar, and rather strong odor, I was so thankful for the summer camp that I grew up attending, which always felt like home when I was a child. I was thankful that due to all the happy memories made at Camp Stevens, the smell of compost always warms my heart and cheers my mind, rather than having the effect typical to the human olfactory system.

And I was grateful that my parents brought me up around big dogs, so I am familiar with their body language, and not afraid of them if they are exhibiting only warnings, and not outright threats. When I had to pass near a group of un-roped canines, I was thankful that I knew to pass by them without turning my back, eliciting the chase instinct.

I had about 13 miles to cover before reaching Kibbutz Yagur, where I would catch a bus back to Haifa before they stopped running for Shabbat. So as my pace kept up pretty well, I was thankful for the good weather and a healthy body. And even more so when I reached the point where I could see Eskol Tower (a building at the University of Haifa) in the distance. Still very far away, but at least in sight for the first time. I could hardly believe how far I'd made it since February. (Though of course, thru-hikers do this in less than a week, and here I was four months later, but still. ;-))

And finally near the end, when I wasn’t sure of the direction of the trail, I was met by a madrich (like a camp counselor), who was out scouting the trail for the group he would guide the following week. He not only showed me where the trail continued, but set a faster pace, which I was able to keep up with, getting me there quite a bit earlier than I probably would have, and showed me some fun edible plants along the way. It was great chatting in half Hebrew, half English, and a lot of gestures, and I asked him about why Israel is keeping around the Eucalyptus trees, when they were originally planted to suck up the water from swamplands (though now Israel is in a severe drought). Apparently they don’t take up as much water as originally thought, their wood is good for building, and their blossoms great for honey bees. Go figure. But it made me feel a bit better, anyway.

I made it to the Kibbutz, caught a bus back to Mifrats, then up the hill to shower, shove a spoonful of hummus in my mouth and head out the door to pick up some visitors coming to kabbalat Shabbat at Beit Eliahu that night. :)

Shvil Israel Days 9,10, and 11

The second week of Pesach break, I visited the beach, and caught up on some work and rest, and got back out on the trail with one of the other Fulbrighters. It took some time to get me out to Tiberias from Haifa, and more time for her to come up from Rehovot, so that we got to the trail a little after lunchtime, but we had a great day. The trail was (as usual) beautiful, and after a while down the Jordan river, we turned west to head over the hills. After a good hour out in the sun, we opted to step off the trail a bit, down a hill to a creek where we could plop down under some trees for a late lunch, some good water, a lovely rest, and some sunscreen reapplication.

Shortly after we got back on the trail, it took us through a big field up the side of another large hill…the trail markers are often painted on rocks beside the path, and the spring plants growing up to be about four feet tall gave the hike a scavenger hunt feel as we both took different routes, trying to decide how long to search before giving up and turning back. We finally made it to the top of one hill, and after searching again for the next marker up the next hill, taking stock of our feet, the position of the sun, and our surroundings, we decided to cut the day short and head for the town we could see off to the right, along the dirt road we’d come upon. Not too long later, two tractors came off the field they were working on and we caught a ride! with the second one to the closest town on the main highway. After a fruitless wait for a bus, we were able to tremp back to the Kinneret, and catch a sherut back to Tiberias. We’d done almost half of Day 9, and made it back in time for dinner. :)

I returned for work the next day, and then the following week I began at the start of Day 10 (we’d stopped in a location that would be difficult to return to, so forewent those few miles), up the face of Mt. Tabor. It was an incredible morning, climbing basically straight up the side of the hill, with very little switch-backing or anything. It was quite tiring, but so great every time I turned to look down over the progress I’d made!

About an hour later, I stopped to check out the church at the top, which commemorates the time that Jesus was transfigured and met by Elijah and Moses in front of Peter, James, and John. It was a very nice, peaceful place, and fun to visit since during my childhood my family went to a church called “Church of the Transfiguration”. Before heading up the hill, I was surprised that it was considered the highest in the area, but once atop, it was quite convincing.

And during the rest of the day, as the trail kind of circled around it, it certainly drew my attention. I was excited to head down the other side, hoping to bring up my average pace. Ironically, I felt like it was taking more time making my way down than it did going up, trying not to slip, trip, or in some other way make my way down on my face, belly or bum.

When I finally got down to the foot of the hill, some of the trail was along a road, so I took the opportunity to jog. I was flying down one hill when a pack of dogs came out barking ferociously. A few minutes of negotiating and doggy introductions, and before I head on, I’d made a few new friends. :) (The two ladies nearby also greeted me and we chatted a little about the dogs in my limited Hebrew, before I head on.)

Often we joke around here about people in the states that think Israel is all camels and tents, but I must say, I do see more camels here than at home. (Not that often, but certainly more than in the states. Cracks me up to see one house with dogs in the yard, another with chickens and horses, and the next with camels and donkeys!)

I also enjoyed the wildlife I saw, deer, a coyote, cows (ok, not so wild, but out in the forest, anyway), and a few teeny tiny little birds! One of them was hiding on the road. I tried to shoo it off the way because I didn’t want him to get run over, but then he seemed frozen with fright, and I hadn’t seen any cars on that road the whole time I’d been approaching it, so after snapping a shot or two, I left him to breathe and lower his pulse to a more healthy rate.

Day 11 shared a lot of the path with the Jesus Trail that I hiked with a friend a few months back, and it was fun to retrace those steps, but backwards, and remember the conversations we’d had when we hiked the same trail eastward. Finally, I made it down the hill to the highway where Day 11 ends. It was only 5pm, with still a few hours of daylight left, but my feet were pretty tired, so I caught a bus back to Haifa, and rested up for the Cinco De Mayo party I’d be going to the next day. :)

Shvil Israel Days 6,7, and 8

Well, I'm only about a month behind. Here we go...So, Pesach break is a little over a week long for most people, two weeks for university students. Since a lot of my information comes from those around me who are students, I thought the latter applied to me, and took the opportunity to continue on the Shvil Israel (Israel National Trail). (Realized halfway through the second week that I was meant to be back to the lab, and made it in for, I think, a day and a half. :-P)

One of my friends is volunteering a nearby kibbutz, and one of her fellow volunteers had been looking for a hiking buddy, so he and I head out from Lev HaMifratz early in the morning and were to the trail before 8am. (We were starting on Day 6, so we took the bus towards Safed and got off at the stop next to Moshav Meron (if I remember correctly) and walked back down the hill to the trail.)
It was a beautiful day, (finally!) with lovely weather, and we made a great start, over streams and across fields, stopping to explore a cave, and marveling at the flowers and crisp air.

At one point, three trails intersected, and without seeing the orange/blue/white marker indicating our direction, we opted for the blue trail, since it said it headed for Hwy 86, which we knew we needed to cross…well…up we went. And up. And up. I knew the length of Day 6 was somewhat long, which typically indicates only little steep ascent or descent, so something seemed off. We stopped to check the map and determined we might be on the wrong trail, but since the sign said we’d cross 86, we figured we’d keep on, and just get to the road, walk down it to the left and catch the trail there…and continued to climb.

The further on we went, though, the less it looked like we’d be catching the road, or at least not before we’d spent several hours off the intended trail. Finally we stopped to check the map again, and realized our mistake. A little rest, some aggravation on both parts, and back down we went. When we got back to the sign, I saw the misunderstanding. The sign pointed to the right, but meant for you to walk under it, not in the direction it pointed. Sigh. Back on the trail. Once under the sign and on the trail a few meters, we looked back to see the familiar orange/blue/white behind us, on the side of the rock opposite from where we’d approached it. As we continued on, I remembered reading a warning in the English guidebook to the Shvil about a confusing spot, and that the author of that book also went right when the trail goes left. Ah well, it was a nice canyon we’d hiked up a couple miles, anyway. And goodness knows it was a good workout! But if you’re doing the same trail, look out for that point, for sure!

We set out on the correct trail, mostly flat and headed straight for the road, I think both disappointed at the lost time. I was hoping to hike all of Days 6 and 7 in one day, and my hiking buddy was still recovering from a cough. Neither of us had wanted to draw out the hike longer than necessary. But we could only press on. We came to a rock scramble, and were making our way up and over when his foot lost its grip and his exclamation and echoes rang through the valley, and my heart leapt into my throat. I had switched backpacks for this hike, and forgot to switch the first aid kit from the larger to the smaller, but thankfully it was not a major injury, and after a bit of cringing, and some water, he was able to continue on with a slower pace. But between that and his cough, he was not up for completing the day. He decided to opt out at the next road crossing, but encouraged me to continue on. So, at Route 86, he turned up the highway in search of the closest tachanat (bus stop), and I headed down the hill on the trail that passed beneath the cars.

The tunnel under the highway was filled with cows, who were indifferent to my friendly and somewhat timid suggestions that they come eat the yummy grass outside of the tunnel, and I found the idea of passing between them all in the enclosed space quite intimidating. So, back up the hill and across the busy highway when a break in the traffic allowed me safe passage. The rest of Day 6 went well. Pesach break had brought out numerous day-hikers and picnikers, and it was fun to greet each group along the way. Finally I reached the end of Day 6 and had to decide to push to get to the end of Day 7, or cut the hike short. There were still several hours of daylight left, but once I began Day 7 I wasn’t sure when I’d be able to bale-out if needed. I took the opportunity to stop at a coffee shop, take in some caffeine, carbs, and chocolate :-P, and rest my feet while reading a bit more of “The Catcher in the Rye”. I finally understand the concept the title references! And I thoroughly enjoyed the style of writing (and all my teenager friends that it reminded me of ;-)). After the rest, I was ready to pound out the second half. Visited the bathroom (thankful for the facilities, indeed! A far cry from a bush and hand sanitizer), and turned my face to Mt. Arbel in the distance.

Across the orchards and fields to the base of the hill, and then huffing and puffing, raced up the front of the mount, hoping to have some time atop to enjoy the view and breeze (it’s my favorite place in the country), before heading down the back, hopefully to Tiberias before dark. The hike up the front was one of my favorite sections of the trail so far, but it is certainly not for those with a fear of heights, or clumsy feet. And for that matter, not the best for the end of a long day, with shaking legs climbing up the cliffs. ;-) But I made it to the top without mishap, and took a few minutes to absorb the sight, smell, and sounds before continuing down the other side.

At a fork in the trail, I was searching for a marker down either side, and a group of four young girls caught up to me, also with their map out, scanning both options. After greeting one another and discussion the trail’s direction, we decided to head down to the left and continue for a while together. We knew the trail went through Tiberias, so even if this trail wasn’t the INT, it would at least get us to the city (turns out that the trail does NOT actually go through Tiberias proper, and it had continued to the right when we turned left. Ah well :)). Three of the girls are Orthodox Jewish, and studying at a seminary in Jerusalem, and their other friend that plays softball with them was along for the trip. We had a great time making our way down the hill, having given up the search for the Shvil markers, and rather focused on just getting to the Kinneret (Sea of Galilee), to find a campground on a beach for them for the night, and a bus for me to get back to Haifa. They were lovely lovely girls, and we talked about where we’d been, where we were going, why myself and the other American were in Israel, and laughed…a lot.

Before sunset we stopped so the three Orthodox girls could do their traditional traveling prayers. I of course began my own freestyle, and then the fourth girl came over to me and we chatted while the others finished up. As we approached Tiberias (the end of Day 7), I saw them discussing something briefly before they turned around and invited me to join them for the night. I was surprised after a quick inventory of life, responsibilities, etc., to realize there was no reason not to, and happily accepted when they persisted, telling me they had plenty of food and extra blankets. A call to my roommate to let her know I’d not be home, an odd feeling that I had no dog to consider when staying away for an unplanned night, a shift in mindset, and we set out in search of a place to lay our heads for the night.

We had a great great evening, camping next to the Kinneret under the stars, chatting, laughing, discussing faith, religion, traditions, and personal perspectives, cooking, improvising sleeping arrangements, and discussing the trail we’d start again in the morning. One of their Life stories was particularly incredible, making me even more thankful that I’d accepted their invitation (ask me about it later). In the morning, we packed up and set off in search of where the trial crosses through the city. We eventually found a bus up the hill to the intersection of the trail with the highway, and continued south, on the ridge above the lake. The view was singular all day, and we took it slow and ended early when we came to a bus stop outside Moshav Kinneret, just a few kilometers before the end of Day 8 on the Shvil. After walking back and forth for quite some time, trying to decide on a bus, sherut, or tremping (not the easiest with four of us), we finally hired a taxi to take us back to the central bus station in Tiberias, as we were eager to get to our respective homes after a long two days out (and almost 30 miles of hiking on my part).

My delightful roommate turned on the water heater for me as I made my way home, and we had a lovely evening swapping stories of our last 48 hours. Excellent spring break. :)

Shvil Israel Day 5 – Mt. Meron to Hwy 866 and back to the car atop Mt. Meron

Yesterday marked the end of daylight savings time in Israel, and the first official day of summer. I asked my friends, “What about Spring??” and they informed me laughingly that Israel doesn’t have a spring. Well, in honor of the first day of summer and the new hiking season, I head out again on the Shvil and completed “Day 5” according to the guidebook…for those of us keeping track, that means I’m averaging about a day every month and a half (insert eye roll here!). Well, I’m hoping to do a longer trip over Pesach (Passover) break, so we’ll see if I can’t "up" that average.

Anyway, I rented a car Thursday afternoon so I could get an earlier start than buses allow, and needed to return the car by 1:30pm so they could close at 2pm in preparation of Shabbat. I had planned a hike about 10 miles long (16 kms) – five out and five back. The rule of thumb is that hiking usually averages about 2 mph, so I gave myself 5 hours, meaning I needed to start at 7am in order to get to the car by noon so I could get back to Haifa by 1:30. Got there and began at just a few minutes before 7am.

I haven’t hiked in a while, but I’ve been walking around Haifa, which is basically a hike in itself, biking with my neighbor, and was taking only my daypack which feels tons lighter than my overnight pack, so I couldn’t predict how I’d do in balancing the "haven't been out in a while" with all the "yes, but"s. Well, turns out the latter was much more compelling than the former, and I made it to the bottom by just after 8am! I haven't been jogging in a while, but found myself taking advantage of the downhills and flat smooth parts of the trail to wake up my leg muscles along the way. :) I passed the little sites that the English guidebook had mentioned: a cave, a pillar thingy, and a Druze memorial site

But my favorite part was this wide open field with a single tree over a spring that gave forth a little stream down the hill. Stood there for quite some time, just soaking it in (the site, not the spring. ;-)) Of course it doesn't come across in the picture, but take my word, it was stunning. :)

I made it to the bottom quite a bit earlier than I had predicted, and figured it couldn’t take more than four hours to get back up the hill, so I went a little further on the trail to scout out where we will start the next stint on the Shvil Israel and where we will get off the bus. Looking at the map of the trail provided next to the road, I saw that it ran parallel for a little bit, and hoped it would run beside a bus stop. No such luck. But anyway, where did the trail go? I looked round and round for the next marker -- not along the road...not on this side...or that side...not up those stairs...and not across the road anywhere...I probably looked for a good ten minutes before starting to give up. Then I remembered a lesson I learned on my last hike: Always always check *under* the road! One of the most brilliant parts of Israeli trails is the safety of not crossing highways where cars are whizzing by at about a million kilometers per hour...and viola, there was the marker!

A few meters along the way I met two other hikers and walked with them a bit. We exchanged the conventional questions and to my surprise they were real-live Haifaians! Born and raised in Haifa!

Gosh, I’ve been here so many months and I think they’re the third and fourth I’ve met. ;-) Of course, most people I know are at the University, so that makes sense, or from suburbs around Haifa. Anyway, I couldn’t go far with them, as I was constantly in my head thinking about the trek back up the hill. So we said our farewells and yom tovs, and I turned back around…

Back under the road...

and…just about flew up the hill!

I’m so thrilled with myself, haha. :)

I had worn a tank top under my t-shirt, and while I was in the wilderness, was just wearing the tank. While it is far from immodest, it is a bit less covering and more form-fitting than my big sweaty t-shirt, so as I was approaching the farmland I’d seen on the way down, I was considering putting the t-shirt back on, but didn’t see any people ahead. A truck drove by at the top of the hill I was on, and I could see that the driver didn’t even give me a second glance, so I began to think maybe I would just leave it at my tank and let my shoulders soak up a little more of the new summer sun. But then I saw that he had pulled his truck over, so I thought better of it. And boy am I glad! I stepped off the trail for a few seconds to pull my T back over my tank and continued my stride up the hill.

As I reached the crest and came over the top I saw that he had stopped his truck to talk with two other hikers – who had just finished bathing in the flooded pond on his farm. One of them sat in his shorts on a rock beside the water, and the other was just exiting from his bath, with thankfully his back (that is, his fully exposed backside) to me. Haha. So much for my concerns about modesty! Suddenly my pace slowed to an amble, and I became enthralled with the rocks and grass on my left. A count to five and quick glance assured me they’d seen me, but he still had only one leg in his shorts. I inspected the hills and sky…and then saw that he was decent, so continued my hike along the trail just beside them. He gazed over the water and his friend and I exchanged grins and shaloms as I passed.

The final stretch of uphill loomed before me, and as I approached it, I could not help but notice all the flowers, insects, sunshine, and breeze.

Whatever anyone else says, the flora and fauna and I say there is can be no doubt that Israel, at least the Galil, does indeed have a wonderful spring!

I felt a little bit like a short-haired, sweaty Disney princess chatting and singing with the birds and bees as I walked and skipped (okay, there was no skipping involved, but there was quite some jogging and arm swinging) along with them.

When I had parked my car and head out way back at seven, I had seen a big group of teenagers out for some kind of field trip, and as I ascended the final hill three hours later, they were just heading down (I’m sure they hiked up to the viewpoint first, which I saw on my last time out the opposite way I went this weekend). One of the most fun parts of hiking on a beautiful day is the camaraderie with fellow hiking strangers. :) Well, I made it back to the car about two hours before planned; whatever could I do with myself??

I head over to Safad (Tsfat/צפת)! One of my labmates had told me it’s a must-see and I had thought it would have to be another day, but viola! I didn’t know what I’d be able to see in just an hour or so, but thought it was worth visiting. I followed the signs to the city, and on my way up the final hill, gave a ride to a couple of the folks waiting at a bus stop (love Israeli culture!), and they gave me some tips about what to see after I dropped them off at the central bus station in the city. By the time I found parking and whatnot, I only had about half an hour to wander around the old city and thoroughly enjoy the artists’ quarter, but it was well worth it. (And got to see a huge flock of storks fly overhead -- the city is on one of the higher hills around, so though they were soaring pretty high, they seemed so close to us!)

The problem being, of course, that every time I visit a new place in the country, I want to add it to the places I take friends and family to visit when they come! Ha, decisions, decisions.

Well, I made it back to my car without mishap, wound my way down the hill and back to Haifa, in time to drop my things at home and return the car just before they closed (Haifa traffic was horrendous – I forget that rush hour is just after noon rather than late afternoon/evening, and getting from my house to the rental return place took much longer than I anticipated). Then back to the joy of bus-riding.

I just got my iPod back from my friend – I left it at her house by mistake last time I visited her in Jerusalem, but saw her at a Fulbright function on Tuesday, so I have re-started listening to The Great Gatsby, again. One of my very favorite teachers in all my educational career recommended it to me in high school. She told me she thought I’d really like it, but might not be ready for it at that time. I read it at 17 years old and found it rather boring. So I waited a few years and read it again when I was halfway through college, and was at a loss as to why she’d recommended it. So, I’m trying it again (I’m more familiar with the genre, so perhaps I’m “ready” for it now? And perhaps the listening-to-it-on-tape will cast a new light, as well). If not, I’m going to find her next time I’m in California, and ask for some expansion on her comment! ;-)

It was a splendid hike, but I can hardly wait for the next stint. The next time out, I should be able to get down to Tiberias, which means I will climb Mt. Arbel again (I hiked it on another trail, and have driven up it twice, and it is by far my favorite place in Israel), so I am thrilled. And then hopefully I’ll do from Sea to Sea (Galilee to Mediterranean) in one trip. Nire (We’ll see). :)

Back on The Trail, Sophsoph!

On my last hike, my hiking buddy asked me what lessons I cherish most of those my parents taught me. I had to say it was all those that go into decision-making. They taught me to gather as much information as I am able and then to make the best choice I can. They taught me it’s okay when I make the wrong choice, and that the point is to make one. They taught me to be decisive in taking steps once the choice is made, and to prepare in case that decision needs to be amended, and to be flexible in living out the path I’ve selected. They taught me that life is a balance of risk and caution. Life without risk misses out on just too much. But of course the risk must be worth the possible gain. “Would it have been worth it if…?” and “How likely is that?” and “What would you do if…?” are all questions that go into my “Cost/Promise” chart. (This is a sophisticated version of the Pro/Con lists, including four quadrants instead of two columns: Promises if I do such-and-such, and Possible Costs of doing it; Promises of not doing such-and-such, and Costs of not doing it.)

After several weeks of holiday parties, outings with friends, and farewell parties (those international students only here for the semester are headed home, and many who will be here next semester are leaving for a month of winter break), my 35% introvert was in desperate need of some quiet time. After much consideration and information gathering, I decided to continue on the Shvil Israel for the weekend.

Knowing the weather forecast could be mistaken, and my body’s endurance is somewhat unpredictable, I took extra warm clothes and bedding, rain gear, extra money, a thoroughly charged phone, made checking-in plans with my roommate, and head out to finish up Day 3 in the Shvil Israel Guidebook, and get as close to Tiberias as I could in the next two days.

Up and packed early, I made it to Mercaz Mifratz, played a bit with the strap lengths on my bag while I waited, and caught the 500 bus to Kiryat Shmona just as the sun began to come up over the city.

As we head our way up highway 90 I kept an eye out for taxis—if they were frequent enough, I could get off the bus early and catch one from the highway up to Dishon. No such luck. So, for a little more kesef I grabbed one from Shmona, saw Mt. Hermon and asked my driver in my best Hebrew something like, "What is it like this how do you say, um, rain but cold and white?" He paused. "Sheleg?" "Oh yeah!" "Ve ech omrim banglit?" "Snow." "Snow." Nice word to learn as I head out for two days outside...

We found the place where my hiking buddy and I had ended last time, and I began the hike at 9:21. Not as early as I’d like, but a beautiful morning, at least. :-)

Saw some of the wildlife out for their morning sun-basking, and kept up a good pace—I knew later on there would be some steep hills and possibly some rock scrambling, and I was hoping to average 3mph, although typical hiking speed averages 2mph. (Can you spot the rock rabbits?)

There were dozens of them!

I could not get over how green everything was, and thanked God for the recent rains. I have only seen these hues of green before in movies and in the Willamette Valley. A couple summers ago I gave my sister a hard time for taking so many pictures of scenery, and here I was snapping a shot every hundred meters. But how could I resist!

Saw some cows at their breakfast. They didn’t think much of me, and I continued on my way. My first mini-adventure came at the next mini-herd. I greeted them cheerfully, “Boker tov, cows!” and approached slowly so as not to spook them (my friend who grew up with cows always teases me for how big I think they are, ha). When they got to their feet, I wait to see which direction they’d go—hey, they could trample me in a heartbeat! Well, of course they were getting up to run away from me. I’m so intimidating! They would go a bit and then turn and watch me wearily. I would have happily gone around them, but they were staying on the trail! As I came around a bend, I hoped they would not feel cornered at any point. Then around the hill…nothing. Well, lots of things—trees, rocks, trail…but no cows. I kept a lookout for them for a while, and then decided they probably weren’t, you know, ducking and dogging behind bushes stalking me to pounce the moment I let my guard down.

I finally saw them going up a hill and waved my farewells as I crossed over the cow grate that had shifted their progression up the hill. Us impressive bipeds, I didn’t even blink at that grate.

The next herd was quite bit bigger and spread across a longer length of the trail…thankfully there was a parallel riverbed, so I made my way around them. Aside from their mass, I also thought I ought not to intrude because they may have been in mourning—the second dead cow that day! What was up? :-/

Easy enough and back on the trail. Next mini-adventure came at a fork in the trail without trail marker. I wasn’t tired yet, but the idea of heading down one way just to turn around a kilometer later made me cringe about keeping up my average pace. To any of you headed the same way, at the bee hives, turn right. (Left goes almost immediately to the road, thankfully it didn’t take long to discern that wasn’t the way. ;-))

The clouds came in, but the weather was still beautiful.

When I reached the second road crossing the trail, I knew I was over halfway finished with “Day 4”, and decided to stop for lunch. I found a sheltering tree and piece of wood, had myself a nice little picnic, and gave my roomie a call for a check-in. It had started sprinkling, but being nice and dry under the tree, it just made for making my meal more cozy.

Before heading out again I prepped myself with gloves, scarf, rain jacket, and umbrella, and prepped everything in my bag in plastic. The rain had stopped by the time I finished eating, but still, better to prep while I was stopped than to do it later. I took about five steps on the trail and whoosh, the sprinkling had been only the pre-show. The main event welcomed me back to the hike for the next half hour. It was great! Felt like I was back in Oregon. (Except I did, in fact, use an umbrella—but before you chastise me too hard, Oregonians, I didn’t use it for myself, but for my backpack behind me. ;-))

Unfortunately, while I thoroughly enjoyed the hike in the rain, and then the schlop through the mud up the mountain, it did make for very slow-going, and (I don’t know what I’d been thinking but,) I was wearing jeans and they became very wet and muddy. Climbing the steepest part of the day, each step was a balancing act in the mud and over the rocks. Boy, I don’t usually feel sore after hiking, but even as I climbed, I could feel that I was using unfamiliar muscles in unfamiliar ways, somehow trying to grasp the ever-giving-way ground through my shoes. The next day was fascinating to see which movements engaged sore muscles and which muscles had mostly rested, apparently, during the storm.

I made it to the top, and to my surprise, was actually able to see the great view (I thought I might end up in a cloud at the top, but the weather cleared up a bit while I’d been giving my shoes the mud bath on the trail.)

There are three viewpoints somewhat in a row on the trail, and I was astonished at my own crawling pace from one to the next, but finding inspiration from the little engin and Dori, I focused on keeping my legs from stopping and ignored the snails’ mocking as they raced by my feet.

My first glimpse of the Kinneret (the Sea of Galilee) was so exciting, I think I exclaimed out loud. I’m sure my heart was composing some deep poetic spiritual response to it, but I think the exclamation came out something like, “Ohwwowhuuu!”. And I noticed my pace picked up significantly. There is something to seeing the goal before you rather than just staying on the path out of faith that it is leading somewhere that has unrivaled influence over the psyche. (Nod to Randy Alcorn. Thanks) Or maybe it was just the break for a photo shoot that rested my limbs and breathing, and slowed my heart rate. It's hard to see in the picture, but there is actually a little glimpse of the sea off in the distance (and yes, I was wearing my gloves by then...brrrrrr)

After the third viewpoint, the trail leads down to a parking lot. As I passed over it to continue on my way, a group of picnic-ers offered me a cup of tea. In my eagerness, I think I fumbled the Hebrew royally, but they understood the point. We swapped stories of our day’s adventures and plans for the evening, and the father figure of the group began the father’s concerned description of the weather forecast (which was significantly more severe than what I’d seen online before heading out). I unconvincingly assured him it would be fine, and he pressed me to take their phone number in case I needed to bail out and needed a ride to indoors.

I took the number, thinking if I made even a few kilometers out, I would not want to turn around to the road…and then began thinking more along that line of thought. He looked over my map and the pages I had photocopied from the guidebook and tried to encourage me that the next eight kilometers were at least downhill. But what I heard was, “Oh, the next eight kilometers you’ll be doing everything you can not to slide uncontrollably down a muddy slip-and-slide, decorated with rocks, and off a cliff in the quickly-on-coming-dusk. And if you get hurt or dangerously cold, you’ll have to swim back up that eight kilometers, because you will have landed at the bottom in the middle of nowhere, alone, for the night, in the on-coming torrential storm that I just told you about and whose thunder you heard earlier. And, oh, by the way, it’s supposed to snow tomorrow night here.” It was a pretty convincing argument.

I accepted their ride.

He also informed me that the parking lot in which we were standing was the end of Day 4 in the hike’s guidebook. That was cheering, at least. They took me to the field house where they were staying for the night (It looked like a gated community of some sort, though I have yet to really grasp what a field house is), and asked about a room for me. Thankfully the bad weather had influenced a lot of people to cancel their weekend plans, and a room was available…for 280 shekels! Without doing any currency conversions, let me say that is between two and three weeks grocery money. Hostels I have visited have run about 40 shekels a night.

As I sighed and looked out at the clouds, I pulled out my visa, telling myself it was better than hypothermia and broken limbs. And then I had a thought. I asked the receptionist if she could call a cab company and ask how much a ride would be from there to Tiberias or Haifa. I shrugged, saying I knew it would be a lot, but it was worth finding out as much information as I could before making a decision (especially since even after paying so much for a room, I would still have to find a way home the next day—probably waiting until after sunset until the busses would resume after Shabbat). I could follow her phone conversation in Hebrew since I knew the topic, and when she asked for the price and her eyes doubled in size, I thought for sure I would be staying the night. Then to my surprise, she hung up and told me the ride would be 200 shekels. She shook her head as if commiserating with me over the excessive cost, so I clarified, “Two hundred? As in, 80 shekels less than the room that is available here?” She nodded, like, “I know, right? So expensive!” I took the cab.

Once in the warm dry taxi, I called my roommate to let her know I’d be home and to request the water heater be turned on in preparation for my coming. We drove right into the oncoming storm and darkness, and I adjusted myself in the seat for optimum appreciation of the heater. The driver and I had fun trying to speak in my broken Hebrew, and although in his unfamiliarity with Haifa he insisted we go to my house by way of the university (even though I kept trying to explain that it was far out of the way, and I would tell him where to turn), we made it home safe, and I enjoyed a lovely, warm evening under a roof and between four walls. All in all, a good day.