57th day (One Last Reverse)

When planning this trip, I looked at the map and saw that whilst we'd only be covering 24 km in these two days of walking, it would have been too hard to do in one day. In fairness, Garry thought we would succeed in getting through the 24 km in one day, and I'm sure HE could indeed have done it. Mark, whilst not as tough as our resident mountain goat, is a public servant, who has ample time to work out in the gym and keep himself fit. Yoni and I may well have succeeded in completing the 24 km in one day, but we wouldn't have enjoyed it. But we're doing the shvil in order to enjoy it, not to prove to anybody that we still have enough testosterone to hike more than 20 km in a day. So if we did 13 yesterday (not counting the added 4 before we officially started), that leaves 11 today. No problem, even if it is mostly uphill the whole way.

Now is the time when I admit to the fact that I can sometimes be a bit thick. Yoni took one look at the book and the maps and instantly declared that walking South to North, or down from 700 metres above sea level to 200 metres above sea level, is far more logical than continuing from where we finished the day before, in a North to South direction, which would have us climb from 200 metres up to 700 metres. Even though we have switched directions many times in the past in order to have an easier walk, I didn't think to do it now. Thankfully Yoni convinced us of the logic and for one last time, we switched walking direction.

This trip and the previous one, where we stayed at Elifaz, have had easy, hassle free logistics, reliable transport and accommodation in one place for two nights, which, not withstanding the walking, gave it an almost holiday feel. It's a distant memory from other times when starting to walk would be delayed by 3 hours by logistical difficulties. Given that today was a Friday, we were eager to get going early so we could finish and get back home in the North in time for Shabbath. In order to facilitate this, we arranged for Shimon to pick us up at 5.00 so we would be walking at sunlight. No coffee stops, no muckin' around, straight to the starting point. Shimon is super reliable and doesn't seem to sleep, as no matter how early we ask him to pick us up, he's there 15 minutes early. So at 4.55 we were in his taxi already, for the short drive to the starting point on Route 12, adjacent to the border with Egypt. Trouble is, first light is about 5.40. So there we were, seeing Shimon's tail lights disappear down the road and over the mountain, in pitch black. The trail looked wide and obvious, so we decided to set off in the dark, hoping this was the right way. The book did warn us that the trail, being so close to the Egyptian border, passed through a mine field on either side. So that about sums it up; we were walking on a path through a mine field, in the dark, not being absolutely certain that we were on the right track. At 55 years old, you'd think we'd show a bit more responsibility, maturity and judgement, especially so close to the end.

We did notice, dark or not, that the path was going down very steeply. We were instantly glad that we were descending first thing in the morning and not ascending at the end of the walk. After 20 minutes or so, it was still dark, bit we could make out enough to see that we had gotten to a cliff. A very high cliff. Unanimously we decided to stop and wait to see where the path went and where the edge of the cliff was. Who says we're irresponsible?

As light came up we could see the grandeur of the surrounding mountains and the valley a long way below us. My companions stayed well back from the cliff's edge, but I wanted an adrenaline rush and a better view of the cliff face and the valley, so walked around the side, along an abutment on the edge. My heart did literally pound from the adrenaline and the views were even better than where my friends were standing. Hell, if we were rolling the dice this morning, then why not the whole way? 

Once we had enough light and decided to get moving again, we had a little trouble finding the continuation of the path. It seemed to have disappeared. This is actually quite correct, it sort of did disappear. Down a vertical hole in a rock. Was Mr. Shvil Painter serious, that we were to lower ourselves in to a hole that would be a tight fit for "regular" shvillers, let alone overweight 50 somethings? I'm not joking when I say that this fissure in the rock was less than a metre wide and in order to get in we had to remove our backpacks and wiggle into the space. Once in, we crouched down inside the middle of the rock, sat on a ledge and tried to find a way of getting legs down to unseen rungs. The adrenaline burst on top of the cliff was nothing compared to this. Each one of us found a different way of successfully lowering our bodies down. Once again, on the 2^nd last leg of this long journey, when you think that you've seen everything on the shvil, you get something new, exciting, dangerous and FUN. The remainder of the descent down to the bottom of the cliff was steep but uneventful. Ein Netafim, the only spring in the area that has water all year round, is at the base of the cliff. We didn't stop to have a look, though from all reports, it's not exactly the sort of desert oasis that tempts you to hang around at for very long.
 

The path continued down nachal netafim, once again passing through Hollywood disaster movie sets of boulders strewn all over the place. Fortunately, the path wound around the boulders and we didn't have to drop any straight down. The descent down nachal netafim was quite steep, but after a few km leveled out. For the 2^nd or 3^rd or 4^th time, we were thankful that my short-sightedness gave way to simple logic in reversing the walking direction.

 Today's walk, although relatively short, was as varied and as beautiful as any we had done on the shvil, principally because we passed many junctions and valleys. Each valley that we passed had a different view, angle and colour. Imagine walking down Main Street in your home town, at every intersection looking right or left and seeing a different neighborhood. Here, we would crest a hill, walk past deep canyons or wide valleys and each appeared different. After a few km, the flat-topped Mt, Schoret loomed in front of us. From experience, the Shvil Elders like to schlep us up flat-topped mountains, just for the fun of it. The book, however, made no mention of climbing Mt Schoret, so we assumed that this time we would skirt it around its base. The truth lay somewhere in the middle. As we approached the mountain ahead of us, the path rose. And continued to rise. We made quite a steep climb that scaled about 3/4 of the mountain. By the time the path reached its high-point we weren't so far beneath the mountain's summit. The descent over the other side into the basin below, surrounded by mountains in all directions, was stunning. Throughout the day's walk, the mountains and valleys were colored with varieties of red, yellow, white and black that made the views all the more striking.  At a 4 way path junction we turned right into Schoret canyon. Now the color ranges were up close as we walked the final kilometer and a half through the narrow canyon. A final bit of variety to end two days of almost perfect walking, which had everything from boring plains to mountain views, to cliffs, valleys and narrow canyons. The shvil was going out with a bang.

Just to put the cherry on the icing for everything that had gone right this trip, Danny the Jeep Man arrived to the agreed pickup point at exactly the same time as we exited the canyon. We'd finished the 10 km quickly and hadn't had our brekky. Whilst we always enjoy sitting on a ledge, or under a tree or on a mountain top to eat, there's something unaccustomedly civilized about eating breakfast at a table, on plates, in an apartment in Eilat.

The long boring drive back was made a little more bearable by a fun new game. Yoni the DJ took requests from the audience, which he would duly find on YouTube and play over the car's stereo. The hours passed listening to old songs from our youth. Just 4 old friends out on a drive. And an adventure.    

56th Day (Heavy Traffic)

This could have been our last shvil trip. We had three not overly long days of walking to go and we were travelling five hundred km to Eilat to do two of them. It's insane, isn't it, having to come all the way back sometime soon, just to walk one, last, thirteen km segment? Well, as we have said so often, especially these last few years, life gets in the way of the shvil and we simply couldn't get away for that third day. Let's just say that two days walking is better than no days walking. Or to put it another way, after forty years of friendship and seven years of shvilship, what's another day?

Caffeine addiction can lead to serious withdrawal symptoms, especially at 5.00 a.m. when you know that for the next 8 hours, popping down to the local espresso bar for a quick macchiato is not going to be an option. So we were livid when we discovered that even though the holiday apartment was quite nice and equipped with all the mod cons, even a kettle, it had no coffee. Now I ask you, what good is a kettle without coffee? Not only did we have to get up at 5.00, but it would be without the aid of the world's most widely used drug. This will not do.  Sometimes taxi drivers are not just experts at getting you from point A to point B, but also at procuring needed drugs. It was true when I was 18 and it was true when I am 56, albeit with some difference. Sure enough, Shimon knew where to get coffee at this hour, even if it was from the convenience store at the local petrol station. Lucky for us that convenience stores in Israel serve premium Lavazza coffee.

 All caffeined up, we were ready to tackle whatever shvil yisrael could through at us, including lots of boring walking at the start of the day. We had a mere 13 km to walk today, a pittance compared to the 27 we walked on the first day of our last trip. Now I have a riddle. When is a start not a start?  Answer:  When the point you start walking from is 3 km before the official start of the section. And thus, the recognized starting point for the day is at an overnight camping ground, 3 km along the shvil path from where the road ends and we said farewell to Shimon. The 13 km had suddenly become 16km. An extra 3 km of magnificent vistas or snaking multicolored canyons would have been fine, but three km of broad, yellow desert, of the type that is about as interesting as sliced white bread, did not exactly thrill us. We're too shvil old and grumpy for this shit. When signs of recent rain are the most interesting features of the area, you know your day is not starting off too well. It didn't really get much better once we got to the Nachal Rachem campground, the official start of the day. Boring old Nachal Rachem continued on just as it was before the campground. 

 

Two things kept us from falling asleep on our feet, one good, one bad. It was very nice to see, not long after we started walking, our first shvillers. Shortly after that, we saw some more. And then some more. At the Nachal Rachem campground, there were about 15 young Israelis who were about to pack their tents and continue on the shvil. We had seen more shvillers so far today than what we'd seen in total these past four years.

Unfortunately, the other thing that kept us from snoozing and walking at once, was the lack of signs. At first there were some shvil signs every now and again, together with green and white ones. After a couple of kms, Mr Shvil Painter obviously thought he could make a few bob on the side by pocketing his paint money, since Mr Green and White Path Marker had anyway already been here.  Trouble is, Mr Green and White Path Marker had pocketed his paint money, so we were left wandering in the desert without any markings at all. Now we know how the Children of Israel felt 3500 years ago. No wonder they complained. It could be that we were being a tad over-anxious, but given our track record, it was forgivable. At one point we decided that instead of walking together, we would spread out across the wide valley, in the hope of broadening the scope of finding some sort of marking.

At least we had the book. Yeah, right!  If in the past we have occasionally griped about the vagueness of the guide book, today we were ready to use it as kindling for a campfire, one that we were inevitably going to have to light, given that we had no indication whether we were in the right place, had missed the turn-off or it was just around the bend. The book would describe turn offs and colour markings, but was unclear whether we should be taking them or not. Distances in the book seemed to be described by guess and not in any way related to the time and distance we were travelling by foot. Eventually, the book foresaw that the valley would narrow into a pretty canyon, shortly after which the path would change colour (what colour?) from green to black and take a left hand turn. Lo and behold, a shvil yisrael marking appeared on a rock, together with a marking indicating that the green path continued straight and the black turned left. Whilst our worry proved needless, we would have been far more relaxed had there been some sort of coloured signs these past 4 km. At least it distracted us from the not very interesting walking.

Too often we have noticed that the interesting stuff on shvil yisrael is usually padded with boring stuff at each end. Desert valleys, mountain views and deep ravines are always in the middle of a section. You finish the interesting bits and inevitably you have to walk a few more boring km just to get to the end. Or in today's case, we had to walk 8 km before we got to the good stuff.

Sometimes I wonder what I mean by good stuff. Today, the first bit of so called "good stuff" was once again trying to impossibly heave our bodies up and over giant boulders. There are times when you walk mindlessly because it's boring. Other times you're awe inspired by nature's beauty. And then there are times that you have to seriously use your brain to work out the best, safest or only way up a rockface. It's scary, it's difficult, but it is also fun. After a number of such tests we arrived to Gev Rachem. A gev is Hebrew for a waterhole that fills up after rain. Since we'd seen damp soil already we fully expected to see a full desert waterhole. The desert disappointed us. 

The time was getting towards 9 a.m. We'd been on the shvil over 3 hours and our tummies were rumbling, so we found a comfortable ledge to sit on in the shade to have breakfast. No sooner had we sat down than a group of young shvillers passed us, walking in the opposite direction from us. And then another group, a larger group after that and then even more. We suspected that they were part of an organized troupe that was walking the shvil, but this wasn't the case. This is the season that through shvillers start from Eilat and simply lots of youngsters had randomly chosen a couple of days earlier to begin their trek. In the 20 minutes we sat on the ledge, I estimate that almost 100 shvillers passed us by. I would say with confidence that we had seen more hikers this morning than we had seen in total, these past 7 years.

Upon resuming we passed a very pretty oasis with of clumps of palms trees before starting the day's big climb. The ascent towards the pinnacle of Ma'aleh Amram was long and steep, but we quickly forgot the exertion when we saw the views from the top. We've had majestic views countless times on the shvil and seriously, one is as stunning as the next. But we hadn't yet had the view of Eilat, Aqaba, the Red Sea, Sinai Desert and maybe even the border with Saudi Arabia, where it meets Jordan. To add to the dramatic view, a deep red and black ravine lay directly beneath us. It is indeed impossible to rate one view over another, but the landscape here was certainly amongst the most breathtaking we've seen to date. 

Part of the landscape that no-one could have predicted was the masses of hikers that were coming up the long steep path that we were about to descend. The day started with us crossing a few shvillers. A large group were camping at the campground and a long steady stream passed us as we ate breakfast. Now it was a swarm. I identified 3 organized groups that were all intermingled together. Religious boys, religious girls and an enormous group of mostly middle agers, sort of like us, walking in commemoration for someone that had died. All in, I would say well over a hundred, perhaps two hundred, people passed us as we gaped at the view. Remember, this is the middle of no-where, not Dizzengof St. We'd gotten used to having the shvil to ourselves, and now we had to share it with a horde, as smiling and as well-mannered as they were. Even at the tail end of our shvil experience, we manage to get new and different slices of Israel. This is what makes Shvil Yisrael so amazing.

The descent from Ma'aleh Amram was steep, long and crowded, but nothing (except for the crowds) that we hadn't done numerous times. But, as is the case when you walk downhill…you eventually get to the bottom. And then there was more "good stuff" waiting for us and this time, the good stuff was indeed good, in the form of a comfortable path through a magnificent canyon. The canyon walls were colored black from the granite, white from the chalk and red and yellow from the sandstone. The softer sand stone had crevices, crags and caves carved in to the walls from years of natural erosion. In other places the rock-face was striated with layers of different colored rocks. Pillars of more hardy stone remained where other stone had been eroded away. I couldn't help but think of Petra, without the world famous temples at the end.

 
 

After a few kilometers, the canyon widened and we were back to the boring type of walking that book-ended the good stuff in the middle. Thankfully, it was well marked and shorter than the morning. We arrived to the end point at Schoret camp ground half an hour earlier than we had anticipated. Shimon, our Eilat wheel man convinced us that the campground was accessible by 4*4 vehicle only, so we'd booked Danny the Desert Driver to pick us up. Imagine our surprise when the car park was full of regular, every-day 2*4 cars, and some yuppy-type soft 4*4 recreational vehicles. We were being picked up by Danny and his rugged Jeep Defender. Talk about over-kill.

We've learnt two things from these past few years of walking in the desert; One - Almost the only shade in the desert is afforded by acacia trees.  Two – Camels and goats love acacia trees and they love shitting around acacia trees. Flies love camel and goat shit. Therefore, between the smell and the flies, sitting under acacia trees in the desert might seem like a good idea, but it really isn't. Why am I telling you this?  Because we had a frustrating half an hour wait for Danny, with the many acacia trees in the campground beckoning us with their shade but repelling us with their flies and shit. There were so many flies that they swarmed around us, even if we weren't sitting in the trees' shade. The only person not too disturbed was Garry, who once again showed his amazing ability to fall sleep anywhere. We were careful not to forget him, asleep in the field, as we did last time we were in the area.

It was really weird being back at our apartment, early afternoon, with no organizing, planning or mending broken bodies. We had time to relax (not that the previous 6 hours had been so stressful), shower and find a place to have a good cup of coffee. Somehow we never got to the coffee. We all fell asleep, instead. Not to worry. Once we woke, we still had time to go out for coffee, wander around the Eilat boardwalk like true tourists (whilst Yoni had a conference call, of course) and hunker down for a mighty meal of fried calamari, fried cauliflower, fried potatoes (i.e.chips) and giant hamburgers, washed down by ice cold beers. There's no need to suffer on the shvil, is there?