And there I was, standing under the heavy morning dew; the hot desert sun already scorching my forearms. My teammates and I knew it was risky to hike amidst the hot Israel summers, but we were on a mission. We had been assigned with a rather treacherous task: hike to and over Mount Meron, the tallest mound in the Upper Galilee [Israel] soaring at 3,963 feet above sea level.
It was the last day of a week-long hike; T-minus 9 hours before extraction. We were exhausted and past our breaking point, but we knew that in order to complete the mission we had to hike to the extraction point. Ahead of us: a 50-mile hike. With heavy feet and a backpack that weighted half of my own body weight, we began our journey. To hike through sand dunes and firethorn was no easy task. Far less easy was the vertical path up to the top of Mt. Meron.
We ran through the first few miles with ease, but climbing over a boulder just to find another one double its size behind it began to take a toll on me. My lower legs felt numb and my lungs began to collapse. I remember repeatedly thinking, “I want to see where the sky meets the Earth,” as it was the only thing that kept me going…well, that and an absurd amount of adrenaline pumping through my veins.
With my two feet suddenly level on flat ground, I looked around me. My tired eyes scanned the vicinity, and what I found was astonishing. I found nothing. Nothing; there was nowhere else to go but down. I soon realized we made it to the top. I made it to the top. The 50-pound backpack grinding down on my shoulders was suddenly weightless…as was I.
I looked far into the horizon as if searching for the things left unanswered. I saw the cloudless sky harboring a bright sun seamlessly blending with the land below. I looked down at my own two feet, blistered and battered; covered in sand. And there, in that moment, existed a single truth: hiking sucks, but the feeling of accomplishment that floods the body is elating. I understood that the very soil underneath my shoes, was the only thing holding me up. It’s a beautiful paradox if you think about it… a mountain so tall it tickles the sun, yet so grounding, warm, and comforting. Recovering from a brief euphoric moment, I gathered my thoughts and began the descent.
I have not been back in Israel since, but this is a place and moment in time I cherish and consider to be part of my core essence. It is a feeling so powerful even the finest of words fall short; a feeling nobody can take away from me.
During a 50 mile hike in the Israel desert, I remember repeatedly thinking, “I want to see where the sky meets the Earth,” as it was the only thing that kept me going…well, that and an absurd amount of adrenaline pumping through my veins. It was my motivation to keep going, one foot in front of the other.
