Sea of Galilee to Mount Tabor

    We passed many orchards of diverse fruit.  There was one olive tree orchard with the largest olives we had ever seen - the size of small plums.  Then we passed orchard with date palm trees, then mango trees with ripe fruit where we helped ourselves to a couple of just fallen mangos.  The richness of the produce along this hike continues to astound us.

    We then entered the small town of Kinneret where the poet Rachel lived in the pioneering days of the 1920s.  The houses were all of dark stone, with lush gardens of bougainvillea, oleander, jasmine, and fruit trees.  The street was wide and the feeling of the place was of times gone by.  There was a museum in one of the houses that we would like to visit someday when we are not hiking the Israel Trail.  

Large date trees, planted in the 1933 as part of a project to bring back the date palm to Israel, were spread out around a number of large ponds and the trail meandered through them.  We could have been in a different universe - the songs of Rachel could almost be heard whispering on the wind.   

   From the Yardenite the trail followed the Jordan River which is allowed to flow naturally for a few kilometers before the water is taken into the Israel Water Carrier. The strange and rather disgusting problem with this area is that while the Jordan River was lovely with boaters, swimmers, water swings, and many happy people enjoying its gifts:  running parallel with only one ridge separating it was a canal with treated sewage.  In the heat of August the sewage smelled horribly ripe, and instead of relishing a wonderful hike on the banks of the Jordan we walked as fast as we could to escape the smell. Why would the powers that be do this?  The simple solution is to run the treated sewage in an underground sewage pipe for these kilometers!

     Right at the place where the Jordan River disappears into the water carrier the Israel Trail turns towards the west and follows a dirt road up in the direction of the Yavnael Stream. At this point we were too tired to continue, and found one of our typical camp sites on the edge between a field of harvested winter wheat and the harvested edges. There we fixed our regular dinner of cream cheese and ramen noodles. Taffy ate his share and we watched the full moon raise before the sun had even set.  Again we were in an empty place with no people.  However, as the night fell several horse drawn carts carrying holiday makers went by on the dirt road.  All we heard was the old fashioned sound of the horses feet clip clopping along.

    It was way to hot for a sleeping bag, we slept directly on the pads with the sleeping bag as a cover so that we didn’t feel totally exposed.  Don wondered if somebody could please turn off the light as the moon was so bright he could read by it.  He promptly fell asleep and I had my customary night in the field, dozing, turning, watching the indescribable beauty of my friend and comfort the big dipper, the glorious full moon, the stars and planets, wishing the whole time that I could miss it all and simply sleep like Don or Taffy who both seemed as comfortable as if they were at home in bed.

We always take the time to leave camp cleaner than we found it

At dawn the next morning we found Taffy to be lame.  He clearly had aching feet, and for a while we weren’t sure that we could continue.  Taffy, however, is not like certain breeds of dog that will literally die to please their owners, he is exceedingly expressive, and we felt that if he was really in trouble he would refuse to go further.  (When I talked with the vet afterwards he said that feet problems were common on hike with city dogs because their pads were not thick enough.  He recommended dog shoes which I have yet to find.)

    We hiked up along the Yavniel vale and watched while bee keepers were harvesting the honey from their hives.  They looked like space men in their white protective suits.  One of the men warned us to be careful of the bees in the hives further up where they had already worked as they would continue to be angry for quite some time.   I was attacked by an enraged bee, though it got stuck in my hair and wasn’t able to sting me. 

      We were surprised to find that the Yavnael vale had a lovely living stream babbling through it that clearly ran year round because it had catfish in it as well as freshwater crabs.  We spent an hour messing around the stream and the many springs that seeped out of the earth and fed into it. 

There had been a fire in parts of the area in the recent past and I was fascinated by how the seemingly dead trees were sprouting new branches.  A metaphor:  how many times have our people seemed vanquished only to rise up again?  The trees and the Jewish people have deep roots! 

    Now we followed another Wadi which climbed steeply towards the south. We climbed out of the Wadi on to a shoulder of the assent and were soon at out first cash of water.  It was now close to noon and hot so we stayed in the shade resting and reading until about 3pm and a less fierce sun.  We then went on with a full load of water straight up the mountain.  We weren’t mountain climbing, but the path must have been at least 40 degrees steep at certain points.  At the edge above us there was our goal a lone tree growing out of the cliff. 

      As we neared this high point we found ourselves in a gale force wind which took our packs like sails and seemed strong enough to push us off the cliff.  Nevertheless panting and sweating we managed to safely reach the top.  We took off our packs in a safe area, and then feeling less vulnerable to the wind we explored the look out point.  I have never seen a view like it.  You could see south straight down the green lush Jordan Valley, I think the dead sea would have been visible if it the air was clear enough; you could see the Sea of Galilee to the north with the Hermon and the Golan Heights behind and to the East.  Directly east was the gorge that separated the Golan Heights from the mountains of Jordan.  To the north west we could see the whole trail we’d just traversed with Mount Meron, Safed and the upper part of Tiberius further away. 

The wind was so strong that any thing we might have dropped would have been lost forever.  Don even put the map away.  Finally we followed the trail away from the look out point towards the west. 

    We were now almost on the top of the plateau that rises to the west over the rift valley that stretches from the Red Sea north to the Hermon mountains.  After about an hour of walking we went over the ridge and saw Mount Tabor to the west while we said good bye to the Sea of Galilee which was now lost from view and not to be seen again on the trail.   

     We were now on a flat plateau, all of it agricultural fields mostly of long ago harvested winter wheat that was now just yellow stubs.  There wasn’t a person or a structure to be seen.  We knew where we were going to camp because we had left a stash of water there, it wasn’t far, so slowly, with Taffy limping and us not much better, we main our way to the edge of the plateau where it looked over the Jezreel Valley and Mount Tabor.  We found the site, recovered our water, but in the end we had to find a different place to camp because the site we’d chosen turned out to be a Hyrax ‘city‘.  When the funky little animals saw us with Taffy they had a fit of screeching.  Then they all disappeared into their rock crevices, but it was clear that between Taffy and these rambunctious creatures there would be too much commotion for us to have peace.  While we were looking around for suitable place to camp away from the Hyrax, I came up on a fox.  It stopped and stood like a stone and then turned around and vanished in the silent way that wild animals can move.  This is the first time I have ever seen a wild fox.

   We soon found another spot closer to the trail, but as there wasn’t a soul anywhere what did it matter.  Or so we thought.  While we were setting up our camp and starting to make our dinner two guys appeared walking from the east.  They stopped right near us and started praying.   

     I had two almost opposite emotions.  One was delight at the amazing prospect of two young men praying the evening prayers there in the wilderness facing Jerusalem with the sun setting behind Mount Tabor.  But at the same time I didn’t want people camped so near to us.  They were invading our privacy.  I shouldn’t have worried, the minute they finished they continued hiking.  The full moon was rising and the sun was setting, so we supposed that they were going to continue walking by moon light.  Considering that the trail in that area was easy and that it was so hot in the day, this was actually a great idea.  I wish we had been friendlier and less territorial.

    As we sat there on the edge of the plateau eating our standard camp dinner, we noticed a range of mountains far away towards the south east.  For a minute I thought they were the Carmel, but that was nonsense.  They were barren, grey mountains in a completely different direction.  There were no lights on this range and as darkness fell they were a black silhouette far in the distance.  We didn’t figure it out while we were there, but when we returned we found them to be the Gilboa Mountains where Saul and Jonathan fought their last stand together and fell. (How are the mighty fallen!) And because of this King David cursed the Gilboa and at least from the angle that we could see the curse still holds. “Ye mountains of Gilboa, let there be no dew nor rain upon you, neither fields of choice fruits; for there the shield of the mighty was vilely cast away, the shield of Saul, not anointed with oil.”  Our camp that night was the most beautiful of all our previous camp sites.  In back of us was the plateau and there was literally not a single light or human structure for 200 degrees around us.  In front of us was the Jezreel Valley and Mount Tabor.  Mount Tabor had a string of light around its base, but the summit was black.  Don thought it was a flying saucer in disguise.  To the southeast were the black Gilboa Mountains - as yet mysterious to us.  

    We passed a spring, Ain Olam, that seemed to run year round. It was being used for cattle, but if we hadn’t cashiered water we probably could have filled our bottles there.  We also passed an ancient ruin called Sirin.  It had no sign or explanation, but from the way the stones were laid it seemed to be an ancient graveyard.

We started before dawn in the cool morning, so the walking was lovely, and to our delight the morning started cloudy, so instead of the August sun we had expected , we hiked in the blessing of soothing fresh shade.  We made incredible time - about 3 kilometers an hour! 

    Now the trail turned to the west and we had the pleasure of walking directly towards our destination.  We passed Tel Rakesh where archeologists were at work.  (I could not find any information about the site on the web.)  As we passed the Tel we crossed a small stream where Taffy drank and cooled off.  Tabor was now visibly closer. 

    The sun came out at about 11 am and beat down on us as we came to the last part of the hike which closely paralleled or was actually on Rt. 7276 from Kfar Kish to Rt. 65 where we ended Leg 4 at the base of Mount Tabor.  I found a place to hide my rock and we went back home until we start leg 5 in September.

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