High Mountain Region | Go Tell It on the Mountain

May 14, 2014

Mt Sinai: dodging the crowds

Mt Sinai is – without a doubt – the most famous peak in Egypt. Personally, I’d go further and argue that, through history, it’s been the most famous peak anywhere in the world. Known to more people, in more places, over a longer time, than any other mountain on earth. More than Everest – which came to global attention relatively recently. More than the likes of Mont Blanc – Europe’s highest – and definitely more than any peak in the Americas (which most of the world didn’t even know about as continents until a few hundred years ago). Stories about Mt Sinai have been told and re-told in three different religions for thousands of years. People read about it in their holy books. They heard about its legends in their congregations in churches or mosques. All of this kept Mount Sinai alive in the imagination. When it came to actually seeing it on the ground though, in all three dimensions, only the very rich or very intrepid had that privilege. The gruelling approach – over a week’s camel ride from Suez – made absolutely sure of that.

Things changed in 1977, when a dirt track was beaten through the desert, crossing huge sandy plains and mountain passes, all the way to the foot of mountain itself. Suddenly, anyone with a 4×4 could visit in just a few hours. Today, that dirt track has become a tarmac road; and Mt Sinai has become a mass tourist attraction that thousands of people visit from coastal resorts every year.

Modern transport has penetrated the wilderness shield that gave the mountain its isolation and now it’s the Sinai’s busiest peak. Nothing else comes close.

All the same, it doesn’t HAVE to be. You CAN dodge the crowds. HERE’S HOW:

1. TIME YOUR CLIMB – mainstream guide books like Lonely Planet bill sunrise on Mt Sinai as one of those must-do, bucket-list type experiences. A sort of rite of passage and definitive hike without which no trip to the Sinai would possibly be complete. Buying into the hype and thinking sunrise was virtually the ONLY time I could do it – I did it like this my first time too. And I still count it as my worst night in the Sinai. The whole thing; from walking up in the dark, to the huge, lumbering crocodiles of people on the paths, to the insufferable singing, clapping and praying through the dawn. It felt like a sort of pennance. It’s time to debunk this over-peddled sunrise myth. SERIOUSLY – avoid it! Go up this mountain at sunset: the soft red hue of the mountains looks even more appealing. And, even more, you’ll just have a handful of other people for company. It feels less like a tourist attraction and more like a mountain should.

2. THE ROUTE – I don’t have stats, but I’d say about 95% of tourists – maybe even a little more – go up the so-called Camel Path, then down the Steps of Repentance. Or vice versa. These are the two main tourist routes on Mt Sinai: the ones in the guidebooks, that get you up and down ASAP, starting and finishing at the Monastery of St Katherine. Avoiding THEM means you avoid the crowds. But it also means you’ll see another half of the mountain: the BETTER half, with ruined chapels, deep springs, beautiful orchards and little-trodden peaks. The best route up Mt Sinai starts in a valley called Wadi el Arbain, near St Katherine. From the end of this, you can walk up the side of Jebel Safsafa and explore. You only join the busy tourist route at the end, just below Mount Sinai’s summit. There are plenty of secret places to discover on the way. Just remember to take a good Bedouin guide. Check them out HERE.

May 9, 2014

Jebel Katherina in the snow

Winter 2013 was one of the most amazing on record in the Middle East. On Friday, 13th December, a huge blizzard hit the region – the biggest since the 50s – whipping it with icy winds and dropping a thick blanket of snow everywhere from Syria to Lebanon, Jordan, Israel and Palestine. Even Cairo, on the balmy banks of the Nile, had its first snow in over a century. Nowhere had more though than the rugged highlands of the Sinai: here, the age old wilderness of red desert peaks was transformed into a rarely-seen realm of glistening white; more like the Alps than Egypt.

Jebel Katherina – Egypt’s highest peak – had the most snow of all and towered up as a gigantic white pyramid in the clouds after the snow; the like of which nobody had seen for generations. It had been re-made as a new mountain.

It was something new; and something I HAD to do.

I wasn’t exactly kitted out for a full-on winter mountaineering expedition. The only thing I’d got were a pair of leather boots; and even they had holes in. But I could improvise with other stuff. I’d duck tape plastic bags over the top of my boots as gaiters. I had a bent trekking pole that’d double as an ice axe and an old snorkelling mask I could wear over shades for ski goggles. It wasn’t perfect – but it was enough. And I wasn’t going to stop.

Dawn was breaking as I got to the foot of the mountain; the snow sparkling in beautiful blues and pinks and golds. Icicles hung off the high crags – crashing down as they warmed in the sun – and every mountainside looked brilliantly white against Jebel Katherina’s black rock.

Every step was an effort up here. The snow was deep and untrodden and the path’s interminable zigzags doubled the distance to walk.

Further up, I found a couple of donkeys on the mountainside. They’d beaten out about 5m of snow on the path – the easiest 5m of the whole day – plodding it down with deep hoof marks. I wondered if I could coax them into treading out the next 5m, throwing half a sandwich on the path in front. Buy they just stood there. And I stood there. Minus half a sandwich. Anyway, I wanted to buy all the time I could so I threw it back to them and trudged up the last zigzags to Farsh Umm Silla, a high pass below Jebel Katherina’s north face.

Huge views opened up here: one way, I could look out to Mount Sinai. The other way I could gaze over high, snowy summits to Hadabat el Tih: a high, desolate plateau that stretches across the Sinai, from one side to the other. The fabled Wilderness of the Wanderings, I’ve always loved this plateau. And its high edge looked all the more beautiful and haunting under the white snows of winter. Here, from Farsh Umm Silla, I thought the climb would get tougher. Actually, it got easier; the wind had piled the snow up on the side of the pass I’d come up. Over on the other side – where I was going – it was shallower.

All the way up, I’d had doubts about whether I could make it from here. About the snow; the north face. But they all went now. It could definitely be done.

I carried on from Farsh Umm Silla, heading for the North Face. The path makes more zigzags here so I headed straight up in a beeline for the top, kicking steps. An hour later I was just below the high summit crags of the mountain; the peak was just above.

The first peak you get to on Jebel Katherina has a chapel on top and legend has it this is where angels laid St Katherine to rest 1500 years ago. It had caught all of the full blow of the blizzard and the snow was piled into ruts and hollows in the crags. These were the only way through and the toughest bit of the whole day. Most of the way I had to hack through big drifts with a trekking pole.

About 15m below the top I lay on my back and gazed at the huge blue sky: exhausted and frozen. When the fatigue eased – when the desire to reach the peak outweighed it again – I ditched my bag and clambered to the top.

A vast, snowy wilderness unfolded here. Mountainsides covered in white stretched out on all sides. Icy peaks stood on faraway horizons; jagged and beautiful. One way, I could gaze over the beautiful white skylines to Africa; the other way, to Asia.

Directly south was Jebel Katherina’s second peak, with two radio masts on top. Getting up was this much easier, with the path up the sheltered side.

This second peak is covered in wreckage from the time it was a installation in conflicts. Steel girders, oil drums and corrugated iron are all scattered about. Today though, covered in twinkling cyrstals, they were part of a beautiful ice sculpture.

I’d lugged all my gear up Jebel Katherina to sleep out in the summit hut. But it was full of snow – the last eegit here had left the door wide open – and I had another six hours to hang about until sunset so I headed back down.

I glissaded back down the North Face – using my trekking pole as a rudder – from where I followed my own deep footprints for a blissful walk back down.

Honestly, I’ve never been the biggest fan of Jebel Katherina: I’ve done it from every side, probably more than 15 times; mostly because it’s the biggest one; but also because the summit views are incredible. I prefer the Sinai’s red rock peaks and, even as black peaks go, there are more beautiful ones than Jebel Katherina. Even so, this time; the snow made it a NEW mountain; none would’ve been as snowy or beautiful. It was amazing and if the next big snow is as long coming as this one was I’ll be 82 before I see it again (when I think I’d still be inclined to give it a go). If you’re wondering about visiting the Sinai in winter, DO IT! Most folks say don’t, because it’s too cold: but there’s a beautiful light, there are rains; and, if you’re lucky, you’l see the snow too…