Sinai in the snow | Go Tell It on the Mountain

May 24, 2014

Jebel Rubsha: the little peak

Of all the summits in the High Mountain Region, Jebel Rubsha was the last I did. It was on the doorstep all the time; but I just never got round to it. Mostly because it felt so close to town. I like to get as far away from towns and people as I can in the mountains. But as much as anything, because it didn’t look like much of an adventure. I could see everything from the bottom. I felt like I knew the mountain and everything about it before I’d even gone. But it was there; and, because of that, I still needed to do it.

I went half way up on Friday 13th December 2013, when huge blizzards hit the Sinai. Not to climb it. Just to photograph the town in the snow.

If you DO want to see the town – eg. to photograph it – Jebel Rubsha beats ANY peak. You can see it in that pic on the left. That’s not the WHOLE of the town either BTW; it’s just the main, central part (called El Milga). That big mountain behind – the one in the middle – is Jebel Rabba, a brilliant one to climb. This pic was taken about half way up Jebel Rubsha’s south face; which I’d say is about the best height for photographs; go higher and the perspective on everything changes so it doesn’t look quite as good.

The next time – about a month later – I went under blue skies. On a normal route.

Jebel Rubsha is actually a twin-peaked mountain. Three-peaked if you count another little point I took this picture from. You can see the two main summits in the picture on the right. An easy wadi leads up here from town, then you just scramble up the gully between the two peaks. From the top of the gully climb the peak on the RIGHT. That’s the higher of the two peaks and it’s an easy scramble up the skyline. You can do the other too but it’s a bit trickier, with some awkward moves heading up from the gully side.

Honestly, I didn’t go expecting much from this summit.

But it was one of the most memorable I’ve done in the Sinai. I thought the town would detract from it; but actually, it added something.

Up here on Jebel Rubsha I could hear all the sounds of the town. Children playing. The hum of engines. The muezzin practising his call to prayer. There was nothing in your face about it. Everything was distant and faraway. It didn’t sound like noise. It just sounded like home. It reminded me of all the years I’d spent in St Katherine since I first started going to the mountains. I’ve been up here a few times since that first time. I still like listening to the town. And being high up here, looking down on the bustle below gives me a sort of perspective. It might not mean the same thing to you but I still reckon it’s worth doing if you’ve got a few hours to kill. Once you’re up here a beautiful long ridge stretches away to the north west too, which you can follow to begin a brilliant – and entirely new – adventure in the mountains…

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…