09.24.04 - 09.26.04
After the final classes for the afternoon, we scrambled to load our gear and subsequently ourselves into our three cars. This proved to be no easy task given the microscopic size of the vehicles. We had been "encouraged" to be out of the city before late afternoon. Evidently the Jewish members of the populace frown upon driving during erev Yom Kippur and have a propensity to throw stones at you under such conditions. Accordingly we hurried along and were soon on Highway One heading east out of the city toward Jericho.
After a relatively mild amount of time and countless yawns to equalize the air pressure in our Eustachian tubes, we had descended into the Rift Valley and curved just past the northern end of the Dead Sea, the lowest spot on the face of the earth. We headed north, following the contours of the Rift Valley. There soon arose a fierce rumble from beneath the vehicle in which Cami and I were traveling and we pulled to the side of the road to investigate. The rear passenger-side tire was completely flat and decidedly beyond salvation. Andy swapped out the flat for the spare (which was full-size, but only due to the fact the car has such small tires from the start).
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The road to Golan
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The flat tire fiasco
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We were back on the road driving one hundred ten…kilometers per hour (Hehe, scared ya, didn't I?) and were soon passing the Sea of Galilee. Shortly thereafter we arrived at the campsite, Yehudia, just north of the sea. One of the other campsites had allegedly taken all of the firewood designated for public use and we were left to fend for ourselves in finding a suitable fuel for our campfire. As per the instructions of the camp manager, we ventured out on the road to a local army base which might provide us with wood. As I expected, the fatigue-clad assault rifle-toting men at the gate were confused by our request. We returned to camp and after others several times tried unsuccessfully to start a fire with a meager portion of twigs and leaves, I decided to offer my deeply rooted Boy Scout skills as a solution to the problem. Needless to say, in short order a small fire was consuming whatever combustible materials I could scavenge.
After the fire had devoured everything I could collect save for the clothes on my back, it slowly died out as did the conversation and the energy. Soon everyone was asleep. The next morning was just as early as I had feared, and soon our entire group was packed for the day's hike. Upon inquiring of the camp manager, we discovered that the park and all its trails were closed for the holiday. It later came to light that one of our group organizers (not Cami) had been aware of this fact before our departure and had "forgotten" to mention it. As you might expect, I was thrilled.
The parks employee was kind enough to direct us to a trail which would still be open. We jumped (or perhaps squeezed) into our cars and drove down the road. We meandered around the area briefly for it evidently was a site from one of the recent wars this nation has endured. We hiked down the trail and eventually crossed a stream and then descended to a waterfall. The water was ice cold and very refreshing, most took a swim but I opted to abstain and instead archive the stop in photographs.
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Us under the Upper Falls
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We crossed paths here with come other hikers who informed us that further down the trail was a waterfall twice the size of the one under which we swam. So after everyone had prepared to journey on, and after I had slipped on a rock while crossing the stream cracking my face against a stone protruding from the water, we hiked onward. After a few side stops, one of which was lunch (consisting of peanut butter and tuna salad for most; a plain slice of peta bread for me), we came finally to the second water fall, the Lower Devora Falls, as it were.
This site was magnificent. The waterfall towered above us, exporting its gallons upon gallons of water to the pool below which was bounded by beautiful rock faces. After soaking in all the site with the digital camera (at which point we decided it would have been beneficial to have purchased a waterproof disposable camera), we swam for a bit and reluctantly headed back to our cars. Our group members had the foresight to load the cars with an ample supply of firewood for the night, and we headed back to our campsite.
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The Lower Devora Falls
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The Top of the Lower Falls
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Us at the Lower Falls
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After stopping at the camp to change clothes and "freshen" up (as much as one can at a campsite), we drove into Tiberias on the western shore of the Sea of Galilee for dinner. Some chose McDonald's (which in this country is very expensive, as they paid roughly $10 for a value meal), most chose a restaurant serving schwarma, Cami and I chose to get French fries and vegetable pizza. Needless to say, after smushed sandwiches and warm water for a day and a half, it was phenomenal. Back at camp the fire was quickly ablaze and after a smattering of storytelling everyone retired, weary from the day's hike.
The next morning two-thirds of our group decided they had little desire to hike again and instead would proceed to the Sea of Galilee for a brief swim before returning home. Our car remained and five of us opted to stay and hike to the Hexagonal Pools. It was a short hike and we soon arrived at a pool of modest size, fed by a stream rolling over rocks at the pool's mouth. The uniqueness of the pool lie in the rock comprising the walls which demarcated the pools boundaries. The rock was basalt, a hard black rock forming from the outflow of lava over the millennia. The name of the pool comes from the shape of the rock walls: the walls are composed of columns of this basalt with each column sporting a hexagonal shape. This is apparently due to pockets of air in the rock being overtaken by lava. One of the group members was still confused to as why a hexagonal shape occurred. I speculated that it was likely a product of the bonding structure of one of the elements in air (probably Nitrogen as the oxygen would have likely combusted).
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Cami and Angela
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Jake, Nick, and Emmanuel
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We swam for a while and a small outcropping of rocks provided a fun platform from which to jump and flip and do all kinds of not-really-too-risky things. But as one might expect, for boys will always be boys, we ventured to the cliff overlooking the pool and were soon discussing the possibility of survival were one to leap from the precipice into the pools far below. Upon discussing the logic of such a feat, probing the pool for depth, attempting to determine the height of the cliff, and briefly discussing our own sanity, Nick was in the air with legs pumping and arms flailing as he plunged the sixty feet to the water below. He floated back to the surface of the water and his exclamations of joy were sufficient indicators for Emmanuel and I that not only was it safe but it was cool. It took some talking to get Emmanuel off the ledge and into what felt like a vast nothingness before you dropped like a missile, but eventually he hopped off with a cry of exuberance. Myself being the last one on the cliff, I had no one left to reassure my shaky confidence. So as the breeze picked up and swept away all caution and any further rational thought, I jumped.
I was soon back on the ledge ready to jump a second time. The leap was incredible. From the ledge, the drop did not look immensely far, but once I had left the rock and was hovering in the air, in that brief instant where positive vertical velocity ceases before the negative accelerates, the water below looked insurvivably far. This thought had no sooner crossed my mind than I was shooting downward with unmerciful speed. About the time I expected to strike the water, I looked down and discovered that I was merely half-way to my destination, which my thinking at this point suggested with surety a watery grave of Sheol. The brazen velocity conducting me downward increased and the roaring wind in my ears suddenly changed to the engulfing of water as the pool opened and greedily swallowed my rigid figure. The shock of cool water surrounding me expelled the suspended logic state of my thinking and urged me to the surface. Upon shaking the water from my eyes, I looked up to where I had first leapt and thought, I'm definitely doing that again.
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My 5th jump
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After a couple jumps we hiked up the stream which fed the pools and had a great time doing so. We returned and jumped twice more from the cliff, and fortunately Cami at this point at least agreed to take pictures, as she had been most insistent that I not jump at the outset. Having had our fill of fun and adrenalin, we hiked out of the valley and back to our cars, beginning the long trip back to Jerusalem. There were no flat tires this time, and we eventually made it back to campus. We found out that the other group had not succeeded in swimming in the Sea of Galilee and merely came back late in the morning. Obviously those who envied our glorious tales of risk and daring were not few. Darkness came quickly and sleep soon thereafter, another week of classes ahead and days to remember for a lifetime behind.
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