Haifa to Daliyat el-Carmel

Dried resin on burned pine

I walked into the park a little after dawn and just before a group of bikers, but even so nobody ran me over. The moon paled little by little. Something distant rustled and shook the bushes, moved towards me for a minute, then away. The trail continued straight down through scrub and oak forest until it turned right at the bottom of a dry riverbed (nahal in Hebrew). 

That should be Nahal Kelah, where I wanted to take a left and go up. There should be a trail up there. Maybe to the right of the riverbed. I tried it but found that it was impenetrable with no blazes. I checked my map again. Maybe to the left. Same thing. Checked the map again. I considered going straight up the riverbed, but it was impenetrable with no blazes. I turned right, frustrated - if I didn't find Nahal Kelah I would end up hiking the ancient paths to suburbia. After half a kilometer or so there was a perfectly well-marked trail - Nahal Kelah - heading the right way. 

Hawk perched above Nahal Kelah

The blue-marked trail followed a small steep riverbed, sometimes above, sometimes actually in it, sometimes both (the trail forked). Open, dark forest shadowed the smooth rocks in the nahal. Railings and bars led up steep rock to the cliffside, where sunlight reflected off the pale rock. It was about eight in the morning but hot and bright. Something invisible from above moved in the forest. There was no trace of anyone else other than the footstep-eroded slopes, the frequent blazes painted on rocks, and the trash. 

I turned right at a bridge. More precisely, I stopped where a bridge blocked the riverbed, climbed up the canyon, and reached a red-blazed trail winding round the cliff. Things scrambled down the scrubby rocks. Furry things. A rock hyrax froze a few feet below the trail. It stared up at me. I stared down at it. I changed lenses very slowly. The hyrax saw no need to get out a camera of its own and stayed frozen. Another hyrax perched above the trail and stared down at me. I stared up at it...

The rock hyrax below the trail

The pattern didn't continue very long; there were only two hyraxes (actually, there were probably many more, but they were better hidden), and only so long I could stick around. The trail coiled up the Kelah canyon for a little while before turning left and leaving the cliff face. There was still no shade. 

I crossed a road, took the trail towards Makhtzevot Qedumim (an ancient quarry, thus the name), taking a shortcut towards a parking area and a memorial to fire victims. A few years ago a fire destroyed much of the Carmel; blackened branches and recovering scrub cover most of the area from the memorial to Daliyat el-Carmel. 

Burned stump on the open mountain

From Makhtzevot Qedumim the trail to Daliyat el-Carmel (actually, there is no one trail) is east and downhill. On the hill butterflies fly through oaks, and lizards run up the rocks. Below is open, with tall pines but little else. After a little way I found an intersection and took a blue-marked trail uphill towards Mt. Arqan. The heat of the day had arrived and the mountain was burned and open. Things grazed in the scrub. Bovine things. A cow looked up at me, froze, and stared. Cows are a little more intimidating than rock hyraxes. I turned away and stepped back a few paces, which satisfied it, then walked forward again. The cow froze and stared at me again. Repeat for five minutes... 

White dust, bright and deep, covered the path up the open mountain. The view was clear to the Mediterranean, but by the end of the trail I was almost too tired to care. Trees reappeared, and the blue path ended at a confusing intersection. The left path became a dirt road leading through orchards and empty new neighborhoods to Daliyat el-Carmel. Actually, to just south of Daliyat el-Carmel. Following the sun doesn't work very well at high noon. The trail system was complex enough that I was lucky to get there at all.