WLE Day 5 (08-12-2011): Ehden to Hasroun (or is it Bazoun?)

WLE Day 5 (08/12/2011): Ehden to Hasroun (or is it Bazoun?)

Length: Aprox 17 km,  6 hrs

Difficulty Level: Moderately Easy

The morning of our 5^th day started off lightly after a long night’s sleep and perhaps foreshadowed an equally easy day. The hike from Ehden to Hasroun actually turned out from Arz (The Cedars) to Hasroun as we were driven by our host Alfonse from Ehden on a steep side rode up to the location where would start our hike close to Arz. The altitude was around 1900 meters above sea level. But before we had left, the reserve lodging’s Alfonse and his industrious wife Rhonda made sure we had been properly fed and our lunch properly packed with sandwiches, cucumber, fruits, and water. I must say it has never ceased to amaze me how generous the Lebanese people are and how concerned they are with one’s needs when it comes to both water and food- which they call Zawadeh.

When we got to the Cedars, the park was closed. But there was an old man with a straw hat standing by the gate, who started a conversation with me. Turns out he is originally from the Bashoura area in Beirut, but fell in love with this Cedar area some 46 years ago and has been living here since. He started telling me about the good old days of Lebanon and of Presidents such as Camille Chamoun and Prime Ministers such as Riyad Solh. “How things had changed over the years,” he reminisced. I asked him some questions about the actual cedar trees; and he began pointing through the see through fence the characteristics of each one. “This one is found on the Lebanese flag, that one on the Lebanese passport, the one over there on the postal stamp and the old Lira coin, the one with only one half was the one that had its left half sheared of in a heavy snow storm in 1983 … he then said, “You know young man, these guys that open this place up may be late, if you guys are in a hurry, I suggest you just jump over the fence …”

The park itself is majestic and yet indelibly leaves one with a bitter taste of the tragic history this region had to endure all the way back from the ancient Egyptians to the Phoenicians, Greeks, Romans … You name it, they tore down and stole timber from Lebanon’s Cedar forests. What stands now is merely a speck of what existed before, and the mountains surrounding it are all bare and used primarily as winter ski slopes and the occasional hike. There are efforts to replant, but looking at the range of mountains, it is obvious that much more is needed.

The trip down from Arz offered beautiful views and a comfortable descending pace. The Qadisha valley itself separates the arc of mountains surrounding the Cedars. On the northern end is Bsharre whose claim to fame is derived from being the birthplace of Gebran Khalil Gebran, the author of The Prophet. Facing Bcharre on the other side are the twin towns of Hasroun and Bazoun. That would be our destination for the evening. Now the relationship between these two villages is funny. Even though they are separated by a mere roundabout and the towns practically connected, they talk about one another as if they are across oceans. At one point, I congratulated the mayor of Hasroun for the patriarch’s visit. “He visited Hasroun 2 weeks ago, today he visited Basoun,”  he corrected me. Our hotel seemed to be right on the border. Samer and I were joking that maybe his bed was in Hasroun and mine was in Bazoun J. To please both sides Samer decided to get a haircut from Hasroun, while I bought some Lebanese sweets (Halawet el Jibn) from Bazoun.

Relationships between towns can be of a different nature. For example Bsharre and Ehden have long had enmity; whereas that between Ehen and Zgharta is of twinship. In fact, the same families who live in Zgharta during the year live in Ehden in the summer . Since Zgharta is closer to the Lebanese coast it offers a warmer climate in the winter months. But why are they kin then, unlike any other Lebanese town? Turns out the story dates back to the Ottoman Empire when a Pasha was going through the area and got stuck in a snow storm around Ehden. A local man helped give him shelter. In return, the Pasha decided to grant him a large plot of land close to the coast so that “residents of Ehden do not have to suffer in the winter as I did.” That plot of land was near the coast of Lebanon. Interestingly, the name Zgharta is a shortened version of “Sagharta” (meaning you made it small). As the story goes, it took its name after the recipient of the land complained to the Pasha that the piece of land was too small!

We arrived to the hotel from the hike at around 3 pm, which meant we had plenty of time to spare. Luckily, the Internet around these parts all of a sudden became much better. In fact, the Hotel where we are staying, The Karram Hotel, has WIFI in open air. What a treat after being incommunicado for a few days…  

That evening, I was told the Maronite Patriarch would be giving a sermon in the local church, so I took my camera and headed up to the church, which happens to be a block away from our hotel. It was a wonderful setting with most townspeople in a festive mood. I started taking photos inside and around the church, until I came across a bunch of teenage boys ringing the church bells. They were happy to see me taking photos. All of a sudden, one of them asked me if I would like to ring the bells. At first I was hesitant, but then I thought I might as well. The first few tries were disastrous. Soon I got the hang of it and I started chiming the bells like nuts ... No wonder the Patriarch came out of the church with a brimming smile on his face :-).

WY

Big Inspiration in Little Things...

There's no doubt in my mind that the pulp of this title I try to abide by in my life today. Dad always taught me to enjoy the little things he sensed I was taking for granted as a kid- The fresh breeze of air that seems to favor Lebanon and Lebanon only; the stars that align the skies of my country reflecting the mountains in radiance, ever reminding me that astrology is but a distant fashion I'm not interested in... (Sorry ya Hipsters)
How about talking to strangers and sensing that they have nothing to lose by telling me the truth of what they're feeling at that moment when I ask them? Maybe they sense I mean the question I'm posing. And I do... I've always wanted to know what makes people tick (or Tock;-')

Ahhh how freeing it is to know that what I've taken for granted in the past comes back in such a forgiving twist ever reminding me that it's not too late to change. That it's not too late to adjust. That's it's not too late for the distortions of my past to fade into the dark reappearing as a lesson well learned (And truly comedic once I get over myself...HA)

All I see is beauty on these mountains. All I'm breathing are memories I know there will come a time I will need.
My brother's sitting right next to me ( We're getting close to Leaving the Northern Region) in an internet cafe in 'Akora' showing me photos of all these beautiful farmers he's snapped stills of. I've never seen more beautifully serene people in my life. They don't live for tomorrow, they might talk about the past in a story they wish to tell, but their photo has TODAY written all over it... What can be more inspiring?
Sometimes it's not the Majestic mountains but the bell hanging on top of a church long forgotten. Are you kidding me, that broken bell's got more stories and poetry than the prettiest one in Rome...
Sometimes the sound of my hiking shoes echoing off a mountain top as if whispering "hey I know you're bloody tired but look up would ya, you might not ever see this again"
And one that I'll never forget- an offer of a soft drink from a fasting boy in a muslim village in 'Akkar' followed by "Would you like me to show you my village? It'll only take us 15 minutes". He beautifully kept looking at me (I could see him from my side) for a reaction as we walked... I'll never forget Khaled. What a beautiful boy... He gave me a flag I'm having everyone I meet sign...

I promised him the first copy of my very amateur Documentary ;-')

And that, my friends is what inspires me today.

Peace and Love,
Samer

What Matters...

So... here I am. In an internet cafe somerwhere in the North mountains in Lebanon. I'll leave the very proper and elequent writing to my Brother Will. The man knows where where we've been, what we've seen and where we're going.
I, on the other hand will write a bit about what's mattered to me so far on this trip. First this note:
I've yelled at mountains,(In and of itself an act that's technically insane;) I've felt very insecure of speaking my native language again, and I've noticed I haven't lost any weight but gained some!!!! I Love my life.

My brother's passion for this trip's photography, his patience to my slow moving a$$- that matters. Or how about the Villagers we're meeting along the way? The know us not from Adam, yet they greet us with grace and offer us food and drink, let us take their photos and answer our many questions (They have some of their own too e.g. Are you guys out of your minds? ;-')

It's all been about the heart and how much love it can soak in and give in return, regardless of the ego. Some poeple we've met along the way need that ego to survive; they know nothing more (or less) but their love is unmeasurable bandaged hand in hand with pure kindness. At certain points my doubt rises and I hear my ego's voice covering my heart's energy on this trip. I can only be still for a minute and think of where I am. Of what I'm doing. Of what I'm seeing. And my heart's whole again.

There's no doubt in my mind that this trip will change me (if it hasn't done so already) All I know today is intellect matters not to me. Material is only that- Stuff. The substance of this flash we call a life must come from the heart and only from the heart.

Samer

WLE Day 4 (08-11-2011): Biqaa Sifrine to Ehden

WLE Day 4 (08/11/2011): Biqaa Sifrine to Ehden

Length: Aprox 28 km, 8 hrs 45 minutes

Difficulty: Intermediate with one difficult descent

This leg was going to be a test of endurance as opposed to the steep mountain climbing of the day before. It would add about 6 km to our average daily rate thus far to reach almost 30 km some of it uphill some of it downhill.

Chamoun recommended we get up at 5 am for a 6 am departure. We left almost on time and began our journey South West to Ehden.  Even though Samer’s tummy was acting up, he took an Imodium and bravely insisted in joining. The plan was for all of us to wake up around 5 am, and we did. After a brief breakfast that Im Majed, the lady of the house, prepared for us, we departed. Im Majed’s family was very hospitable and housed and fed us. Majed himself the previous evening took us to the town’s Internet Café and helped me find a place that sells cel phones. It was pitch dark because the town had lost its electricity that evening. It turns out this is a common problem there. Majed explained that he had tried to install a wind turbine on the top of his building to generate some power, but authorities had taken it down because it was not allowed. “So they are forcing us not to have electricity. Is there anywhere else in the world where this happens?” I could't find a good or comforting answer for him ...

When we left Biqaa Sifrine that early morning I was worried about the chaffing on my right foot toes. They were all burnt red the previous evening from so much rubbing against my shoes (I guess you don’t get out of valley of hell without any burns J). Samer gave me some band aids. Even though I was confident that it would have an effect, it was not immediate. As we departed the house and took to the cliffs around Biqaa Sifrine, I could not help but limp, which slowed our initial rate. With time though, the band aids and tape took effect and I could not feel a thing.

From Bikaa Sifrine we headed South West over some hills. They were rocky and tree lined but not too steep. At one point, we dropped into a valley and then climbed on the other side. There was nothing and no one in site and no water. As a matter of fact, Chamoun had warned us that water was going to be scarce throughout this leg, so we had stocked up with two 2 liter bottles as well as our camel bags (another 2 liters). It made the bag 4 kilos heavier than usual, but it was well worth it not to take the risk of water shortage. During the trip and as the scenery began changing (farmland and then none), I could not but help think that water is perhaps the one single resource that humans simply cannot survive without. While it may be obvious, it is situations such as this that bring the point home to city slickers!

Once at the top of the hill again, we heard some dogs barking and saw a car parked to the side of a farm house perched on the cliff. We then glimpsed a farmer nd called him. Turns out he is a Lebanese Australian, Albert Ibrahim, who came back to live in his natal homeland on the land of his fathers. Very soft spoken and shy … Offered us some nice cool water … Damn we had to carry all this extra water for nothing!

Hiking on, we started coming into a clearing and heard some shooting. Turns out it was some bird hunters. We took a look at their produce and saw that they had not had much luck, but we still sat around with the men as they recounted to us their days of hunting. One of them actually lives in Sydney, Australia and came back to spend some time with his father and brothers hunting. The father, a proud man, wished he could join us for the walk. At one point I felt Chamoun, who hates hunting animals, was almost going to invite him to join us just to make him stop hunting. They offered us water and some fruits …

On we went in very dry heat. Two hours later, no wells in sight. Thank God for the water we are carrying (yes all the conflicting thoughts that go into a man’s head when walking…). We finally came upon a goat herder who pointed us to a well close by coming out of a small cave called teh Well of Jbeib. His name was Sarkis. he was an interesting and peaceful man. Full of humility, one could tell from the outset that there was something about him. Turns out he is an educated man and runs this business with his two brothers.  Together they herd their flock, but they also have a business that makes goat milk, cheese andf distributes them in the region (this would be confirmed to us at the lodging where we stayed that evening) … Sarkis also knew about issues dealing with farming laws, legislation that affects farming … history, the environment, chemicals ... He enjoyed talking to us and offered us nectarine. We all ate and talked for close to an hour right at the mouth of the cave with cold air blowing out almost like a natural air condition. Samer who sweats profusely, enjoyed this well immensely. A moment to savor. Cheers Sarkis!

Leaving Sarkis behind we continued on our way to Ehden. We knew we were up against a challenge: down a steep mountain and up the other side to the our destination- Ehdin’s protected nature park reserve lodging. If there was a rope from one mountain to the other, the crossing would have taken a handful of minutes. There wasn't; and the descent and ascent took two and a half hours. At times the descent was harrowing, but not really dangerous. Still any fracture or injury would have been very difficult as the closest help would have been hours away. So we took easy and we played it safe. Samer was relieved when we reached the bottom of the valley- a dry river bed- until that is he saw the impending climb to the reserve. It was an hour’s worth of climb at a steady 30 degrees angle taking us from an altitude of about 1300 meters to about 1600 meters above sea level.

When we finally made it, the reserve lodging where we stayed made it all worth it. Nestled in the middle of the park, it provided beautiful scenery, great lodging and food, very hospitable hosts, and nice fellow guests who we got to meet over dinner. As importantly, reaching Ehden also meant we were now back in the “zone” with consistent telephone and Internet service, although the Internet Café had a bunch of kids huddled playing video games shouting their heads off in the process- the owner, a nice chap, quite inexplicably kept shouting “Ninios, Ninios… shut up”. Perhaps they didn’t understand what “ninios” meant. Perhaps they didn’t care …

All in a day of walking across Lebanon …

WLE Day 3 (Aug 10 2011): Wadi Jouhannam (Valley of Hell) to Biqaa Sifrine

Length: Aprox 25 km, 9 hrs 35 minutes

Difficulty Level: Extreme

Now I know why they call it the Wadi of Hell …

We woke up 6 am in good spirits and started our walk at 6:25. There was light outside but the sun’s rays had not broken through the mountains surrounding Mqamin. Samer helped get us started and will be hauling the bags in a cab later on in the morning.

The initial climb started of steep, and only got steeper as we climbed. At one point it felt more like mountain climbing that it did hiking with a few slips. At one point one of my hiking sticks slipped and I need to retract more than 10 meters to retrieve it. As one climbed the vegetation began to change. From green, to brown, and finally to rocky … I had to make several stops to catch my breath. I don’t think I have been this exhausted in a long time. Finally Chamoun says, “Congratulations you made it.”

Now this hike originally was planned for two sections first to Kfir Bnine, sleeping the night and then the next day to Biqaa Sifrine. We had decided to combine the two for a total of 25 km. The only problem is Chamoun was not familiar with the short cut straight to Sifrine and so we had to start finding our way once we reached the peak. And that we did, unfortunately, it meant we had to scale a second mountain range. Just when I thought we had, we found we had to scale a third mountain range !!!

If exhaustion was not enough, water started becoming scarce. I never really realized how important water was until this expedition began. I usually carry a two liter Camel Bag and a half liter bottle. By the second range the water was running out. Fortunately, we found a well on our way to replenish. Once we scaled the third range, we reached an area with lots of vegetation, but very few people. We rationalized it is probably because of Ramadan and most people prefer to avoid the summer heat. By that time we also lost some of our bearing and Chamoun started to get a little anxious trying to find someone to help us along. He found a creek of water and decided instinctively to follow its source going upwards! Not another upwards … Fortunately his hunch proved correct and we finally came across a small farm with a pick-up. The farmer invited us in and his wife offered us Apples, Cucumber, and nectarine and water just in time !!! They seemed pretty isolated and poor, until it came time to say goodbye, and the lady asked if she could take a photo of us. “Sure,” we replied. And she pulls out a digital Sony camera and shoots some pics. The marvel of technology… Turns out she has two daughters, one of whom is a college graduate in environmental tourism.

The directions we were given were to follow the base of the mountain to reach the Sugar Well, which would then lead to Biqaa Sifrine. Unfortunately, it also meant going up and neither Chamoun nor I were in any mood for another steep ascent, so we opted for continuing on the lower end of the mountain. Asking for more directions confirmed it, and we were given the advice of sticking close to a water canalization. By that point the entire region we were in was green with Apple, Pear, and Nectarine orchards. Water was in obvious abundance and the inhabitants seemed to be making the most of it. The canalization idea proved to be a dangerous one as it meant literally walking on a 15 inch wall that separated the canalization from some fields 15 feet lower. I felt like a trapeze artist and was relieved that shortly after we opted for a safer way through the fields.

An hour or so later we finally reached the road that leads up to the Sugar Well and down to Biqaa Sifrine. The only way up there and then down was a paved road, and neither of us was in the mood of walking up a paved road and down another. At the point as the crow flies we were probably a couple of kilometers away from the town, but there was no road or way to cut across, so we hitched a ride with a pickup truck.

We reached Biqaa Sifrine around 4 pm, and went straight to Ammo Mustapha’s who provided us with a lunch feast to die for, and which I feared would spoil us going forward. Samer joined us there and seemed in great spirits having spent most of the day getting to know the people back in Qmamin.

After lunch, we headed towards the house we were staying in for the night- Abu Majed’s. It turns out the house is only one block away from Ammo Mustapha. Thank God for that!

As for my health report, pretty good except for some serious chaffing in some of toes. I added some anti-bacterial Neo-Sporin and tomorrow plan to add a few band-aids. Hopefully, it will solve the issue.

Will go to sleep now as I have to wake up again in 5 hours for the walk to Ehden. 

WLE Day 2 (08/09/2011): Fneidik/Amou'a to Wadi Jouhannam (Valley of Hell)

Hike Length: Approx 22 km, 8.5 hrs

Difficulty Level: Difficult

The night before in Tashee we slept in a makeshift tent (using matresses hanging from the branches of a Shouh Cedar tree. The whole experience should be a story of its own. Suffice it to say that it includes howling wolves, creeping insects under my pants, an outdoor bathroom, 3 am visits to our host of some dubious characters, and a star-line night sky with shooting stars to boot.

The morning of the 2^nd day saw us devour a massive breakfast of locally grown eggs, cheese, and what Samer said was the best tea he had ever tasted.

We departed at 8:30 with Chamoun bamboozled out of US$20 for his night – guides are usually free. Understandably, it bothered him, but we needed to get going. The initial scenery was green with lots of Shouh Cedars aligning the mountain ridges. We stopped and talked to many villagers, some of whom Chamoun already knew. For the most part they were all friendly, hospitable, but visibly poor. Still they showed a happy and generous spirit. At one of our stops, a whole family sat with us telling us about their life. Surprisingly, they did not live there all year long, but rather for the summer- mainly because of their kid’s school. They invited us to some green grapes and some apples- which the region is famous for. On another stop, one man told us he was thinking about sending his son to Australia to his uncle. “Most of the town is already there anyway,” he said. And on a third stop, one smiley young woman told us she was farming but also taking nursing classes.

The route for this day would take us to the top of the mountain- whose nature all of a sudden changed from green to barren and then down the other side to a Wadi (valley) dauntingly named Jouhannam (Hell). While the decent was steep and at times tough on the knees, the natural beauty of the place transformed the ordeal into one of fascination. Water was everywhere with overflowing waterfalls and creeks. Water at times rather inexplicably flowed upwards and then down following us on our trail as if beckoning us forward or perhaps providing constant relief to the heat surrounding us. Reaching the bottom of the valley, orchards and farms became very common, and the people again displayed hospitality with the common regional invitation of “Hawwil”, meaning take a detour and visit them.      

Once in the valley, we walked up and down for about two hours before finally reaching our destination, which is the town of Qmamine at around 5 pm. The town itself is nestled in the mountain and surrounded with trees. Water runs at its base and provides for drinking and cleaning. We found Moustafa eager to receive us and please. And what a dinner followed, with one of the best rice chicken we ever tasted. No Internet unfortunately, but there was a very weak mobile connection, on condition you have to do up to the roof (on a steel ladder- my Birkees fell as I was climbing up J) and make the call from a single spot- on top of a water tank !!! So I managed to talk to Karim D. and Karim M. all from that spot- the marvel of technology. The advantage too I guess is I got to check on my laundry, which is also hanging up there!

After dinner, the team decided to make a slight change in the plan and to go straight to Bekaa Sifrine instead of stopping in Kfar Bnine. The total trip will therefore be about 25 km but with some serious steppes. So Samer opted out and instead volunteered to take the hiking bags of the team straight to Bekaa Sifrine in car. He has been an outstanding Expedition team member so far, and thanks a mil for offering to transport the load for us. Not having to carry 15 kg for 25 km is a pleasant surprise. The idea though will be to depart earlier than usual to be able to cover the distance before darkness kicks in. So we will be leaving around 6:30 am instead of the usual 8 am.

This also means I will have to tuck it in a bit early …

WLE- First Day- Qobeyat to Fneidik

I am writing this from a small Internet shop in Fneidik, a town in Akar. There is no signal for Mobi elsewhere unfortunately, but the chap that runs the place has been very helpful.

What a day! 20 KM fulfilled. Samer can't believe he actually managed it. The first couple of hours were hard and steep and for a minute he harbored some doubts, but to his credit he held his ground and came through to the last step.

It all started at 5 am, actually by 4 am both Samer and I were awake and got ready in time for our pickup. We met Chamoun along the way and the drive to Tripoli at that time of day took a swift 1 hour. This was followed by another taxi trip from Tripoli to Qobayat, a nice little town in Akar. While Qobayat seemed organized and more developed, unfortunately along the way one tends to see a lot of poverty in the Akkar region. It seems not much in economic trickle down has occured over the past few decades in these parts. The last time I was here was in 2000, and the conditions are almost identical. On a positive note, this has also caused the region to be left alone and its nature in almost virgin condition.

During our walk we passed through beautiful parks full of Cedars, the Shouh Arz, a specific type that is different from the famous Cedars of Lebanon. We met villagers, shephards, and farmer and people from the area. Most men seemed to be or have been part of the Lebanese military at one point- which appears to be one of the largest regional employers. But they were all most welcoming, inviting us to drink, eat, and even stay. Unfortunately, we had to decline to be able to move on. During the walk, the weather was spectacular, cool and breezy and we got some low clouds and a light fog at one point. That helped us cope with the exertions of the first day.

We finally arrived to our destination at around 4:50 pm, which if we consider a departure time of 8:10, gives an approximate hike time of 9 hours- more than we estimated, but nonetheless inevitable considering the first day's pace. The place we will be staying for the night is as basic as they come. Literally a tent with a table and chairs outside. Hassan the owner of the joint is the quintessential Akar macho man. He has been very accomodating, and well connected in the town- the Internet guy is his cousin. So no complaints...

Will run back up to the camp now where Chamoun and Samer are waiting. Tonight all I can think of is eating and sleeping (which I am craving), and I am looking forward to our onwards journey tomorrow.

Here are some pics to enjoy ...