And soon, the peak of the mountain came into view. My heart raced as I scrambled to the top. I looked out across the rocky, treeless horizon, and saw that I was completely alone… on the wrong mountain! NO!!
I let out a pathetic yelp and slumped down on my heels. I, in my infinite wisdom and pigheaded stubbornness, had declined assistance from the Bedouin down at the monastery, and now I was paying the price. I had not hiked up the holiest mountain in all of Judaism—but instead, its taller, lonelier neighbor.
I checked my watch and calculated that it would take me nearly four hours to climb down, and four hours to climb up the correct mountain. If I was lucky, I might get to the top just after sunset. I unwrapped a Powerbar, gulped down some water, and started my descent. I alternated between a jog and a funny-looking fast walk, depending on the terrain. I made it down in good time. And I only toppled over twice.
When I reached the bottom, I saw the Bedouin man and his donkey. I showed him a US $10 bill, and he smiled and patted his donkey’s back. I took off my pack and laid it across the donkey, and hopped on. We didn’t exchange words, only hand gestures and smiles, but it was easy to understand one another. He took me about three-quarters of the way up the mountain, and then motioned for me to get off. I assumed it was because it was getting too steep, but it could’ve been because he was hungry or didn’t want to get stuck on the top after dark. Regardless, he’d saved me a bunch of time and a lot of energy, so I smiled and got down.
I reached the top of Mount Sinai just after the sun had gone below the horizon; I had missed my sunset shot. I saw the French tucked in their sleeping bags (holy crap! I hadn’t thought about where I was going to sleep!) and watching the sky change colors. I found a flattish patch of ground near a big boulder, and took off my packs and tripod. Looking out at the purple horizon, I suspected that not much had changed since the time of Moses. Sure, there was an enterprising Bedouin man selling bottled water out of a makeshift tent, but I was willing to bet that the sunset looked the same in Moses’ time.
