For those of us living in Israel, mountains are not something you come across very often. And so, in preparation for my trip, I climbed up Har Ha’zevel (literally, the Mountain of Trash). It took about 12 minutes. Just like Kilimanjaro.
It was strangely beautiful – lush green and surrounded by trees, but with barbed wires and metal rods sticking out of the flora, and the odd condom wrapper lying mysteriously in the middle of the path.
My goal was to try out my new equipment. So there I was, driving through town with my bright red raincoat, my heavy duty boots, walking poles beside me and a professional backpack. I looked like the biggest douchebag.
I made it there and up but then it started pouring rain and I couldn’t figure out how to get the hood sealed and I was wearing too many layers and my feet were slipping out of my boots and I knew my wallet was getting drenched and anyways, I could see the car the whole time. So instead of going up it ten times like I’d set out to do, I came back.
Don’t I seem ready?