One month ago, in mid-December of last year, I participated in an adventurous field trip with fellows from Bar Ilan University. This particular trip was the first part of a field class on a range of fields including Geology, Geography and Archaeology, led by Dr Dvir Raviv. Knowing that his trips are always a great success, I signed up eagerly and I was not disappointed. The day began at Kida, where we enjoyed a lookout over the Arab village of Duma and the eastern Shomron, learning about the geography and topography in our view. One curiosity, which only became apparent once our guide pointed it out, was a soccer field delineated by field stones, nearly indistinguishable from the nearby agricultural terraces.
Returning to our tour bus, we were driven to our next destination, Khirbet Jib’it and its extensive ruins. Starting from the east, we climbed the gentle hill to the top and took in both the characteristic Shomron landscape, and the sprawling ruins of crude ashlars. Crested larks frolicked in the nearby patch of ploughed land, and a lone black redstart hopped from rock to rock as we learned about the site and the archaeological advancements made over the years.
We continued on to the more ruins slightly to the north and gazed down at the Roman era hiding complex that we couldn’t enter due to safety and insurance reasons. Scattered around the area were many potsherds, some of them painted and dated to more recent Muslim periods (Mamluk and Ottoman). One fine sherd was nicely glazed and believed to belong to the Crusader period – which interested me greatly. And then there’s this large piece that’s either dated to the Crusader or Mamluk period:
Our last stop at Khirbet Jib’it was to the Byzantine church on the northwest corner of the site’s main hill. There, among the local Bedouin sheep, we found some of the church ruins as well as a bit of a newly exposed mosaic. A short walk downhill on the ancient road took us to our waiting bus and then onto the next site.
Pulling over at the side of the road some twenty minutes later, our bus dropped us off near an obscure archaeological site called Khirbet el-Marajim. After a five minute walk, and we were at the outskirts of the site, one of the sharp-eyed members of the class picked something off the ground: a rock with a trigonia fossil.
Within minutes we were gathered around the main attraction of el-Marajim: a large excavated pool with a partially collapsed tower from an earlier period in one corner. Nearly hidden, yet plainly in sight, are the entrances to an underground hiding complex from the Roman era. A quick look at those, and some explanation on the site and we were off to the next part of the trip.
We hiked down from Khirbet el-Marajim towards the nearby wadi, through the characteristic Shomron terrain and towards the stream that bears the name of this post. It only took fifteen or so minutes before we entered a very different area – from the terraced green slopes to the boulders of the streambed.
We stood at the dry waterfall, where just a large pool of cold water remained from the seasonal rains, and surveyed the land before us. A deep canyon opened up, revealing what would be Nachal Rash’ash, and the two sides reached up higher than before. Several black kites soared overhead relatively low, perhaps hoping that one of us would fall into the ravine and become their next meal.
But, alas (for the carrion-eaters), none of us slipped and we set out on the trail, progressing along the somewhat muddy southern slope. While the hike felt slightly treacherous, the views were breathtaking and our quick pace kept us rightfully occupied. A half hour later we took a break, sitting down beside the freshwater spring of Ein Rash’ash. We broke for lunch and ate in peace, celebrating the glorious mountain view that sprawled out before us.
There were a handful of birds around us, including the ever-patrolling black kites, a few noisy Tristram’s starlings, a blue rock thrush or two and a lone Syrian woodpecker that perched relatively close-by. Suddenly Adam, who was periodically scanning the horizon with his 10×42 binoculars, cried out and pointed to one of the slopes in the direction of the Jordan River Valley. What followed next was a series of photographs taken at a great distance of a large bird of prey perched on the rocky slope hundreds of metres away.
We had found a very first golden eagle, a relatively rare bird in Israel, and there was much rejoicing. It was nearly the end of 2018 and definitely a most welcome sighting to finish off the year. In 2017, I had spotted a white-tailed eagle in the Hula Valley mid-December, so now I just wonder what next big eagle I’ll see in December on 2019. After our lunch break we got back up and continued hiking along the southern slope, learning about the geology and geomorphology of the region as we got closer and closer to the Jordan River Valley. Eventually reaching a ridge, we hiked like kings, the vast land stretched out around us nearly devoid of human presence.
After the ridge came the slope and we found ourselves entering the valley at Einot Pazael, where springs and a slow, gurgling brook can be enjoyed. When we gathered around the brook, tea was prepared and snacks passed around, for the sun was setting over the mountainous region we’d just hiked and we were all a tad cold and in need of nourishment. A great grey shrike came by to watch us, calling noisily from a nearby jujube tree, as we wolfed down pretzels, crackers and cookies
When we were done there it was just a short walk to the bus and then the long drive back to Bar Ilan University, bringing the first day of the field class to an end. The second day, scheduled for mid-January, took place in Wadi Dalia and Sartaba and shall be written about posthaste (or something like that).
Reprinted with author’s permission from Israel’s Good Name