5th day (Going Forward Backwards)

Its 6 o'clock on the morning of Shavuot and I'm awake already, getting ready to do another leg of Shvil Yisrael. Need I ask myself, yet again, why I do this to myself?

And so we meet again. This time we were determined to have a boring, uneventful walk. No road walking, no Barry, no lost keys.
In order to facilitate this aim we decided that the distance between 2 given points is the same no matter at which end you start. However, the amount of energy that you spend going up from point A at 600 metres above sea level to point B at 1200 metres above sea level is vastly different from what you would use going down from point B to point A. If you add to this equation another parameter, that at 49 years old energy is a finite, limited resource, then the solution to the eqution is both obvious and simple. We start at Mt. Meron, the highest point in Israel and therefore the highest point on the entire route and finish at the top of nachal Dishon, whilst not exactly lowlands, is considerably lower than the starting point. We have, of course, already learnt from experiance that mountain paths tend to go down and up, but you can't argue with the math that between 1206 metres and 612 metres there's a fairly steep drop. We'd already chopped the routes up a bit, finishing the 3rd leg in two go's before doing the 2nd leg, so doing this leg "backwards", against the general north to south direction that we are walking the country was perfectly logical.
So we hopped out of Yoni's car at the large empty carpark at the top of Mt. Meron, not before Garry had confiscated my keys after parking my van at the other end. After some 100 metres or so we came to the first lookout on this circuit path of the mountain. Israel is not blessed with high mountains, but even at this height the views are stunning, especially on this crisp morning before the haze sets in. In general we don't dawdle when we walk, but we were overtaken, or more correctly brushed aside, by a group of very serious looking Russian power walkers who seemed to be determined to get to where-ever it was they wanted to get to as quickly and efficiantly as they could. You don't argue with serious looking Russians.
After 3 or 4 lookout points the shvil yisrael path separated from the circular mountain top route and we started to descend. It quickly became apparent that the decision to walk in the direction that we had chosen was a correct one. Over previous legs we'd observed that mountain paths go up and down. Well all in, today's mountain path only had downs. And a good thing, too. The pleasant downhill allowed us to fully appreciate that we were walking through a beautiful natural mountain-oak forest. So far, with the exception of a limited time in the nachal Snir nature reserve on the first day, we hadn't encountered any deep forest, the type where you're barely aware of the sun above, or of the outside world for that matter. It was noticably dark and the ground under foot covered in a blanket of leaves. There was barely a sound except for the birds. This may all sound like a cliche, but it really wasn't. It was just the type of walking path that makes our walks so worthwhile. We walked today for about 5 hours and I would estimate that over half was in such forest. If we weren't in forest then we had lots of views. And it was all downhill. Sometimes taking the easy way is the right way and this was one of those times. If we'd done the 14 km in the other direction we would have arrived at the big carpark on top of the mountain totally and absolutely pooped and certainly not having appreciated all that this section had to offer.
If we spent the first few legs wondering if we'd ever see anyone else along the way, today we were on the autobahn. Russian Powerwalkers, family groups, clusters of shvillers and mountain bike riders. There are lots of different paths that criss-crossed the shvil yisrael path so there were lots of options for lots of people. Add on to that the fact that this was Shavuot, the last of the spring festivals, perfect late spring weather and an area that is one of the most well known for nature walks in the country (including of course the country's highest mountain), so it was no surprise that we saw so many people. When we got back to the large previously empty carpark on top of the mountain, 5 or so hours after we left it, it was now a large full carpark, with cars and buses jostling for position, reminding us once again that the Levant is closer to Egypt than it is Switzerland. And if we're mentioning annoying third world behavior then I can't help but point out that all along the path we were reminded how popular it is, not by obnoxious crowds, but by the tell tale signs left behind when nature called. At times it was like walking through a public lavatory.
If we saw more people then we saw less cows. Every walk we'd done we'd seen cows grazing, but now we that the grass has dried out and those luscious spring flowers are a memory then I guess the cows have started to be kept in pens and fed fodder. Its a bit like going from a Jacques Pepin 5 star restaraunt in Provence to Campbell's from a can. We did however see one handsome black bull (he's even go this own a photo here) who may be described as the Richard Gere of the bovine world. A couple of kilometres further down the track there was a fine heiffer who if not the corresponding Scarlet Johanson then would definately be a worthy candidate for the Carnivore Club here on Tuval.
So all in we got what we wanted. An easy 14 kilometres that took us through beautiful countryside, without dramas of any sort. The sort of walk that I think fits into some sort of stereotype that we imagined shvill yisrael to be. We've only had 5 outings so far but even so, we can start to look back and mark off things that were more memorable, a sort of edited highlights, and todays walk will be there.

An Anecdote, Not A Walk

I was chugging past Tzomet(junction) Hamovil this morning when I picked up a girl (young woman) hitch-hiking. She needed to get to Har(Mount) Dvorah which is sort of in Nazareth.I remembered that once, when browsing through the book I had noticed that this was a place that was on the shvil, so I promptly asked her if she was on her way to shvil yisrael. Even though she didn't have hiking clothing or a backpack, in fact she looked like that she'd timewarped from Woodstock , she was indeed joining her group who are doing the shvil. We had a short conversation about the shvil but coherency wasn't her strong point (chemically induced I suspect). Her group, she explained, was a group of 100 walkers doing the shvil on a mission to make the world a better place. This group is named Walk for Love (Really, I'm not kidding. I couldn't make that up if I wanted to)).
Picking up a hitch-hiker who just happens to on her way to Shvil Yisrael. Another Karmic, Cosmic, Divine co-incidence, I ask my self?

4th day, 2nd leg (cosmic karma)

It's 5.30 friday morning. My alarm goes off and I roll out of bed. This isn't a work day. I'm voluntarily rolling out of bed so that I can go walk 18 km up and down mountains, knowing that in the end I'll feel like double my 49 years. Why the fuck do I do this to myself? Is this really called "fun"? (actually, it is, in a perverse, masochistic sort of way) So at 6.30 we met once again at our regular meeting point, the Segafreddo at Kadarim, had our regular pre-walk caffeine shot and set off for our first real test , our first long walk. I was eager to get past this leg because we'd dodged it for whatever reason and had completed the 3rd leg already. More importantly once we'd put this leg behind us we could tick the box by the Upper Galilee and say to ourselves that we'd finished a defined area of Israel and finished the first part of the shvill. Our next leg is the 4th already, in the Mt. Meron area. We're becoming experienced shvillers
After the usual leaving one car at the end and driving on to the beginning we got to Tel Hai by 7.30 and started off. So far almost all of our shvil encounter has been about nature. Babbling brooks, mountain vistas, scrubby forests etc etc etc. An orchard here and there about man and nature. Today man was going to have a bit more of an influence on preceedings.
The first part of today's walk took us through the Tel Hai sculpture park. True, it was in a natural setting but the reason that the path took us down that way was two-fold. One was to take us past the large sculptures placed around the area, none of which were particularly mind-blowing and the second to make the up-hill that we had to walk just a bit steeper. They succeeded in that. So we straggled up the path from the sculpture park to the scenic road that would be our route for the next 4 hours. Now here lies the crux of the problem. We are walking shvill (path)Yisrael, not kvish (road) Yisrael. Yes, its a scenic route, it is pretty, but its a road. Go back to the first chapter and re-read the part where we hitched a ride because we thought that walking meaninglessly along a road just didn't do it for us. We don't mind huffing and puffing up paths, but doing the same along a road for 4 hours doesn't quite justify getting up at 5.30 on my day off. And huff and puff we did. By definition, mountains are not flat. They go up and down. A lot. So we walked for about 12 of our 18 km along a country mountain road. Yoni was more vocal in his disapproval of the situation (remember, Yoni is the grump of the group), Gary and I were more able to put it into the context of pretty views and "this is part of the shvill and take it as it is" type attitude. As if we needed proof that what we were walking on wasn't hard black dirt but indeed was what the dictionary defines as "road", a convoy of some 30 cars belonging to the Smug Drivers Association of Northern Dimona passed us by, with knowing grins that sort of said "Gee I'm glad I'm in this car and not walking out there on the road." Usually I would have a wry grin and think "Gee I'm glad I'm out here in nature and not looking out at it through a window". Today, in this situation, I'm not sure which grin wins. Anyhow, since cars are bigger and stronger than pedestrians we were forced to stand aside whilst they passed. Hmpf.
After an hour's or so walking we came to a lovely picnic spot called Ein Ro'im, replete with set barbeque spots, lots of shade and empty picnic tables. Please refer back once again to chapter one and note that we can't resist empty picnic tables. This time there was no park ranger to tell us that we had to pay for the right to use the empty picnic table. After a short break and a fascinating conversation concerning the differences between commercially and home grown locquets we hit the road. A bit further along we found what motivated the motorcade to come bother us on this backroad. The Ramim Geological Park. Apparently when this part of the Rift Valley was split open all those millions of years ago it exposed layers and layers of rock that represent a multi-million year history of the area. This geological park explains what rock your looking at and how long its been there all in easily accessible strata. The people visiting the site give new meaning to that fond term of ours...rock-apes.
Along the way we crossed paths with some other shvillers including one particularly sad looking character who was walking by himself. By the look of the amount of equipment on his back it appeared that he was doing the whole shvill in one,2 month go. We agreed that doing the shvill on ones own doesn't sound like much fun, and his demeanour seemed to agree. (So why do it, I dare ask?) Then we crossed paths with another pair of misplaced walkers. An eleven year old kid (or so he appeared) with his 9 year old brother, strolling down this road, in the middle of no-where. The younger one throwing sunflower seeds in his mouth, one at a time, and expertly spitting out the inedible casing, in that unmistakable middle-eastern style. Playing hooky from school, not a worry in the world. No parent in sight. Eventually, a fair way back, we spot mum and dad in the escort vehicle, somehow driving at the same speed that their offspring were walking. So we were starting to see a few more walkers on the trail and were having to share our personal space with cars. At this point we should have realised that today's section was going to be really different from everything else that we'd walked to this point, including pre shvill yisrael walks.

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We noticed that the colors on the trail today were different from 2 weeks ago, largely as a result of the change of season. In late spring in Nachal Dishon there was still water or at least its affects, so there was still the last of the winter green. Here there are no water sources so everything has dried out more. It hasn't turned yet to the grey of Israel's summer, more like a mottled green. There were still lots of flowers in bloom, but not the entire canvasses of spring reds and yellows. Walking above the Hula Valley the views were beautiful but the haze had set in and these beautiful views didn't have the bold contrasts that we'd seen in earlier walks.

Eventually the road and a regular walking track parted ways, with us on the track. Things were starting to feel a bit more normal. We spotted a rather nice , rather large turtle which we decided would become our mascot. No snide remarks please, we're not without a sense of self irony. We passed a nectarine orchard, strong with the sulphuric stink of chicken shit laid down as fertilizer. These were things that we might expect to experience on the shvill.

And then came Barry.

As is the custom and polite social grace (we are, of course, very mindful of our social graces), when you come across another walker you exchange pleasantries; how's it going, how far to go, watch out for this and that. Camaraderie is the word, I think. Added to the shvill camaraderie was the fact that Barry spoke our mother tongue quite well, albeit with a South African accent. The conversation therefore lasted slightly longer than the standard 3 sentences. It came up in conversation that Barry had left his car where he'd started in the same car park as we had left one of our cars, but had no transport at the other end. I have no idea how Barry and Nurit, his partner, planned to get back to their car and I'm not sure that they did either. Anyhow, Barry suggested\asked that perhaps one of us could drive his car up to where they were going to finish, that is, where we started and had left a car. Since we were 3 drivers and we had one car waiting for us at the carpark it was no problem. So he promptly unhooks the key to his Toyota Land-Cruiser and innocently hands it to 3 strangers walking down a path in the Galilean mountains, instructing us to leave the key on top of a tyre, for all to see, in a public parking space. We exchange cell phone numbers and walk our separate ways. Its true, Yoni, Gary and Paul resemble middle aged accountants more than potential car thieves, but still, leaving a 300,000 sheqel motorcar in the hands of total strangers is, well, trusting, at best. But the strangeness had only just begun.

We continued on our tired and merry way. When we met Barry we'd walked about 15 km already, so we had another 3 or so to go and thus were getting pretty weary. Eventually, after 6 hours of walking we arrived to the car park, where we found Paul's Mercedes van and Barry's Toyota Land-Cruiser. However, to my dismay, Paul the fucking idiot, couldn't find his keys. I turned all my pants pockets inside out and in my backpack found crumbs that even mice wouldn't eat, but no keys. Instead of keys I had a knot in my stomach. I'd either dropped them along the way, which was what I was pretty certain had happened, or I'd left them in the back of Yoni's car at the other end, which I was pretty sure wasn't a particularly realistic option, but in this situation you clutch at any straw you can. And then the magnitude of the divine intervention, the hand of God, the Cosmic Karma or the most unbelievable coincidence that even the Hitch-hiker's Guide to the Galaxy would find too improbable, struck. How is it possible that some bloke who you've never met before and will probably never meet again, on a mountain path, plops into your lap a set of car keys to his luxury car, when at the same time you lose the keys to your own car? If not for this stroke of unimaginable dumb luck then we would have been well and truly shtupped. Left in a car park with a car that we couldn't get into or drive, unable to make our way back to the start to pick up the other car. By the way, if I'm going to beat the odds, then its all the way. The keys were in the back of Yoni's car. That's it. From now on I'm going to lay tfillin and do mitzvahs, say Hail Mary's and go to confession, fast during Ramadan and meditate in the Tantric Buddha style in order to achieve Nirvana. Anything to keep the gods smiling on us as they did today.

Not withstanding that, I could at least pay for lunch at the Blue Bus Hummus joint.