Day 5: The Best for Last

 Day 5: The Best for Last

Day 5 of the ride was in many ways the best.   We were given the option of a bus ride up the hill from Ketura. It is a 3.3 mile climb back up the steep road we came in on yesterday.  With some trepidation, since I remember it as a very difficult slog, I decided to give it a try.  It either became more difficult in my memory, or I have become a better climber.  Not that it was by any means an easy climb, but I made I made it to the top without stopping, and I was by no means the last one up.  This ride is about many challenges, large and small.  This was one of those challenges, and I feel great satisfaction at having met it.

Today's ride is through some of the most stark desert landscape we had seen. (I will post more photos, but the Internet connection here is very slow.  I will have to wait until I get back to the states.  You'll just have to come back!).  Miles upon miles of scorched barren land.  As one of our guides tells us, we are farther away from any settled part of Israel than we will ever be.  We are riding west across the desert to the Egyptian border.  It is mostly flat, and we have the opportunity to cruise at a good clip 2 abreast.  Gives us time to have long conversations along the way.  I also like to spend some time riding alone with my thoughts.  Can't say they are always profound.  Sometimes I just sing!

Our lunch break is on a hill right along the border.  We have not seen any Egyptian soldiers have we have in past years.  The border used to be a fairly open affair, with a just a chain link fence and some barbed wire and many open spots.  Sadly there was a terrorist incursion from the Sinai several years ago.  As a result Israel has built a high fence along the entire length.  It is high tech, double dense, topped with wire.  It glistens in the sun and scars the landscape.  It is also something of an environmental disaster, as it blocks the migration of wildlife across the desert. (Remember the Arava Institute's motto: Nature knows no boundaries.). Another example of the imperatives of security that guide so much of life in this troubled region.

Lunch on the 5th is always photo day.  We are in our Lexington Minutemenschen bike jerseys, and we have some great shots, front and back (you'll just have to wait to see!).  The Team has made this a very different ride for me. In past years when I have done this ride alone, I have had the opportunity to make friends and chat along the way, but it has always been an essentially solitary experience.  I mean that in a positive way.  I have enjoyed the long stretches of solitude during which I could just be within myself.  But this time I am here with a group of friends with whom I share a passion for  riding. I am proud to have recruited them, and take great satisfaction as they have come to also share my passion for the cause we are supporting.  I also have a group of friends who now share the physical, spiritual and emotional experience that this ride is.  It is life changing? Maybe.  But it is certainly adds a dimension and depth to our riding experience that until now I have only been able to try to explain.

The descent down into Eilat is, as always, thrilling, breathtakingly beautiful, and a little scary.  It isn't the steepest of our ride, but it is the longest.  This is the stretch where on my first ride, one very experienced rider had a catastrophic fall at high speed.  He survived but was seriously injured.  His story has become the bedrock of the safety lecture that is repeated at every steep hill.  But with a little sense and good luck, this hill is as manageable as any.  We begin high in the rocky hills, through switch backs that give no real clue as to where we are headed.  Then around a final bend, suddenly the Red Sea and the city of Eilat glisten ahead of us, and across the water is Aqaba, Jordan.  This is a place where on a clear day you can see 4 countries. Standing in Israel, you can see Egypt to the right, and across the harbor is Jordan and Saudi Arabia.

Back to the Ride: We speed into town, stopping at the first traffic circle, where the crew waits for us with popsicles.  Why popsicles, I don't know. But it is a tradition!  We then ride in a triumphant procession to the hotel where there is food and drink and general celebration.  Bikes are packed, we have a closing ceremony, complete with a slide show of photos the crew has taken thought the ride,  songs and a few tears.

And suddenly the Ride is over. Riders begin to trickle out; some are going right home, others on extended trips. Hugs all around.  Promises to stay in touch, at least on Facebook.  And that's it.   I have a day to relax at the hotel, will have lunch with my cousin Hagai who is in Eilat for a conference, and then we (Neal and Derek are on the same flight) too Iwill depart.  Back to Boston, work, family and every day life.

As usual, it will take me some time to reflect on this experience, and I may post my thoughts in the weeks to come (though if history is any predictor, I will not be as good at keeping up this journal as I would like.).  High in my thinking right now is how much the ride has brought me in full cycle in my recovery from prostate cancer.  Two years ago this ride was part of my bargain with my urologist.  One more long ride, then several months off the bike to see if my PSA would come down.  It did not, and an MRI confirmed cancer too advanced to ignore.  I am fortunate and blessed that the surgery was successful. I did not require follow up treatment, and now, nearly 18 months later I am cancer free, strong, and once again riding through this Land of such beauty, history, and deep connection.

As I write, tensions between Israel and and Palestinians are increasing.  There has been more violence in Jerusalem, and even in Tel Aviv.  Are we naive to believe that we can raise money and ride in support of a vision of cooperation and trust that will ultimate lead to peace in this troubled Land?  Perhaps we are.  But what is the alternative?  I cannot accept that we are condemned to a perpetual cycle of death and destruction.  Will peace come in my lifetime? My kids'? Their kids'?  I pray it does not take that long.  In the meantime, we have no choice but to support those who are  actively engaged in building the foundations of trust that will - that must - bring about that peace that we so desperately need.

And so, except for photos that I will post later, I close this episode of my journey the seat of my bike.  It has been everything I could have hoped for, and more.


L'hitra-ot. Until next time

Lester