I'm Googling the Wrong Words

Route: From Rosh Pina to Kfar Nahum
Distance: 13.5 km / 8.3 miles
Time Waited: 8 minutes

The Story: I was making good time heading back to Jerusalem. As I waited at the bus stop, the day began to warm up. A car with three twenty-somethings pulled up. The guy in the backseat, speaking in very slow and accented Hebrew, asked where I was going. They were planning on driving around the Kineret, albeit the Golan side, and would drop me off at Kfar Nahum/Capernaum. Plus, I'd hoped to make good enough time to dip my toes in what's left of our water source.

The two guys were exchange students from Brazil, studying at Tel Aviv University. The girl was their Brazilian friend, who studies in France. For some reason, I can't find an appropriate link to insert here without getting into some sort or porno site. Maybe I should google something other than "brazilian men hot."

Israel is Our Home?

Route: From Koach jct to Rosh Pina
Distance: 19 km / 11.8 miles
Time Waited: 15 minutes

The Story: Last time I hitched from this intersection, I got a ride directly to Tel Aviv. I hoped my Car-ma would come through this time, but I ended up waiting a while, made friends with a 15-year old girl who was also waiting and finally got a ride to Rosh Pina.

I was surprised this driver stopped, because his car had red license plates - police. I asked about this and he replied that he always stops. His uniform indicated he was part of the border police. As we chugged along, we listened to the radio. It was the first day of the current operation in Gaza and Uzi Landau was spewing his ideology over the airwaves. He was advocating making citizenship contingent upon a declaration of loyalty to Israel as a Jewish, Zionist state and completing military or national service. Freedom of speech anyone? Freedom of thought? Apparently not (find Liberman under each season's 'characters' tab).

Elevator Technicians and Hanuka.... A Coincidence?!?

Route: From Baram to Koach jct
Distance: 26 km / 16 miles
Time Waited: 6 minutes

The Story: I'd finished a killer hike by 10am and needed to get back to Jerusalem in time for a wedding. Except there I was, 2.5 km from the Lebanese border. Pretty much as north as I could be. With no cars in sight. Luckily, one of the first cars that passed picked me up. It was a company car, but nevertheless I kindly refused to put my bag in the trunk. Their final destination was Kiryat Shmona - they'd take me to highway 90.

This was probably the most literary and seasonally apposite ride I ever had. The guys were elevator technicians, in charge of the northern region. And it was the 7th day of Hanuka. Sound familiar? Really, what are the chances. Plus, I've had my picture taken with A.B. Yehoshua.

The conversation started off with the regular chitchat. Where I'd been hiking, for how long, where I slept. The guy in the passenger seat pointed out I must have a strong personality to go out alone. We then slid into a whole conversation about doing things alone versus letting other people enrich our lives through sharing experiences. He thought I was 23, so ten points for me. "By 35" he said, "people will be pressuring you to settle down and have kids." Gotta love Israel. Or hate it.

That's What Friends Are For!

Route: HaSharon jct to Tel Aviv
Distance: 36 km / 22.5 miles
Time Waited: 4 minutes

The Story: After waiting for some time heading south on highway 4, I realized that I probably wanted to be heading down the parallel highway 2, which would bring me into Tel Aviv, possibly even reaching the beach for sunset. My driver pulled up right away, and seemed more eager for conversation than I was - if that's even possible. He introduced himself right away and offered me a tangerine. Noam, probably in his mid 30s.

He lives on one of the nearby moshavs, but apparently waking up early and trimming his hedges was the most moshav-like thing he'd done in a while. He'd studied education, facilitated groups, lead hikes, and currently runs his own business. I was traveling with my medium-sized backpack, which caused him to think been a) hiking b) leading a hike. He asked a few times, just to make sure.

He was heading into Tel Aviv for a blind date his friend had set him up on (why don't I have friends like that?). It was, he reported, the 2nd time he'd ever gone on a blind date. When I didn't say anything, he pointed out that for this to be the 2nd, there must have been a first. OK, I'm not that nosey.

Half-way there we picked up another hitchhiker, who was heading to Hertzliya, where she'd left her car. She was also offered the perfunctory tangerine, and together a merry ride was had by all. After locating the street of his date, Noam let me off and I walked to the beach. I ended up missing the sunset by 4 minutes, but the sky was absolutely stunning nonetheless. Someday I'll figure out how to post pictures.

Hum Dee Dum

Route: From HaSargel jct to HaSharon jct
Distance: 55.5 km / 34.5 miles
Time Waited: 15 minutes

The Story: I'd spent an extended weekend up north, first for work and then visited Matar. I'd interviewed octegenarian ideologues at Ein Shemer on Thursday, spent the night at the Alon HaTavor field school (woohoo employee benefits), and returned to for a conference at the ecological greenhouse on Friday.

Matar almost died a few months ago, and has since been keeping busy with doctors, physical therapy and trying to regain the weight she lost. I was thrilled to see her, and had a blast visiting her kibbutz. I was reminded that other (saner) realities exist in Israel and was introduced to kibbutz rugby (pronounced roogbee in Hebrew) culture. Yizrael's team is Israel's best and has gone undefeated for years. Really, why even bother playing if your best opponent can only reach 45-12.

Why am I telling you all this? Because the guy who picked me up didn't really want to talk, real conversations or otherwise. It was a total bore. Boohoo.

Something's Fishy Here....

Route: From Ein Gedi to Jerusalem
Distance: 83.5 km / 51.5 miles
Time Waited: 10 minutes

The Story: Yom Kippur was amazing, and as the sun went down, I broke open a pomegranate to break the fast. I packed my stuff, and headed out to the road. A young man heading for Jerusalem stopped. Perfect.

Turns out, we'd spent the holiday doing very similar things. He's staked out a spot by Nahal David where he spends every Yom Kippur. He goes alone, cherishes the silence, and thinks. While I wrote, slept and chased the shade, he actually prays. He was armed with a beach umbrella, mosquito net and plenty of yummies from his Moroccan grandmother, including some delicious fried and honey-covered treats. He said he'd been suddenly awoken at night by biting ants. He described humongous ants, like he'd never seen before. They were all over him, biting away. Apparently they didn't get the Yom Kippur memo. He woke up, and began praying. When he went back into his sleeping bag, they were gone.

He works as a fish distributor in Jerusalem - his route goes throughout Mea Shearim. Turns out, most fish are delivered to the shop dead - except the carp, which apparently can remain dormant for an extended period of time and instantly spring (or wiggle) back to life upon reaching water again. Hm. He loves eating fish.

In his free time, he designs and makes silver jewelry. He showed me a beautifully detailed Magen David necklace he was wearing, inlaid with white stones. No, he corrected me, it was ivory. Eeks. His teacher had given him tiny shards. Apparently ivory is a fascinating and wonderful material to work with, and he'd contemplated buying some off EBay. For $120 he could have gotten a 10-inch piece, which would have lasted him for years. But his ethics got the best of him. Truly a good guy - he also dropped me off at home.

Can't Touch This

Route: From Metzukei Dragot (Dragot cliffs) to Ein Gedi
Distance: 4 km / 2.5 miles
Time Waited: 10 minutes

The Story: My ego was a little bruised after the previous driver had out-Turked me, but all was good. I was thrilled just to have finally gotten out of Jerusalem. I was waiting at the checkpoint marking everyone's favorite Green Line, which is actually very inconvenient because the bus-stop is not directly on the road. Finally a sun-weathered man driving an open Jeep (plus backseat dog) picked me up.

Most of the time I'm mildly annoyed by short-distance rides. But this was different. While most drivers were racing against the clock (Erev Yom Kippur), my driver was apparently racing against the speed of light, the whole while cracking seeds and telling me about his masseuist career. In typical Israeli manner he calculated his income and pointed out how much free time he had. FYI, working mainly with tourists visiting the Dead Sea, he makes around 400 shekels per massage. Glad to arrive, I hopped out of the car, ready for a day of silence and solitude (except for those loud mangal-ers also camping out).