Our “tour guide” — my jovial and adventurous cousin who had made aliyah a decade earlier — assured us it would not be deathly difficult. Unfortunately, as tourists from New York, we didn’t truly understand what it meant to spend the day in 105-degree heat.
The hike wasn’t hard per se, but it was long, hot, and sorely lacking a shred of shade. On the side of the trail were abandoned cars, many of them torn in pieces. Not too encouraging. I even remember seeing a sign that we thought meant someone had died at that spot.
The entire time we hiked, my cousin kept calling out, “Just another five minutes…” To what, exactly? After another five minutes, and then another, and then a couple of hours, we reached the finale.
The desert path had led us to a wonderfully refreshing pool. (Suddenly the name Breichat Hameshushim made sense, as there was no actual water along the way, save for a few mirages.) We took a nice swim in the cool natural spring and then started walking toward our car. Unfortunately, the only way back was the way we’d come.
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