As you will reading this post I will take you through the highs and lows of my Jordan Trail experience. I can in all honesty say, that the Jordan Trail is one of the most beautiful trails I have ever done (perhaps even better than Kumano Kodo and certainly in a tie with the Laugavegur and Fimmvörðuháls trails). The views are amazing, the remoteness and calmness of the environment is fantastic. If you are planning to do the Jordan Trail or part of the Jordan Trail (also read my more technical post on my learnings) – you will not regret it, just make sure you are well prepared.
Day 0 of my Jordan Trail Dana to Petra solo hike: A change of plans
As soon as my alarm goes at 3h00, I know something is not right. My bowels make noises, movements and give signals that are not comforting – especially when you know you will be on a remote trail for the next week. I have an hour until the driver will arrive that will take me from my hotel in Amman to the small town of Dana, where the start of my hike will be, but I will be spending more than half of that time on the toilet.
In between toilet breaks I try to eat something, but even the thought of eating vegetables or the pasta I prepared makes my stomach and bowels turn back into action. I force-feed myself at least some vegetables (150 calories, waaaaay not enough to compensate for the approximately 4000 calories I am going to burn today), pretty much like a parent force-feeds kids their veggies.
Day 1 of my Jordan Trail Dana to Petra solo hike: Dana to Jabal Feid
It is about 6h30 in the morning when we arrive in Dana. The highway itself is an experience: from leaving the bustling city of Amman with some amazing new architecture, we have gone onto a highway that seems continuously under construction. For countless times, we have passed through villages where we were forced to slow down because of the bumps in the road. The last few kilometers are dirt roads
I say a last goodbye to Mohammed, my driver and I’m off on my own.
Well … almost.
Like the whole morning the first stop is finding a hidden corner just outside the village that is slowly waking up to have one last toilet break before heading into Dana valley. The beautiful Dana valley because … wow … just wow. It is the first of many breathtaking memorable moments on the Jordan Trail.
Leaving Dana – view over the canyon as start of my Jordan Trail adventure
The wake-up call
Occasionally stopping quickly to enjoy the surroundings, the morning is -above all- one big wake-up call.
The sun. Although it is early November (almost winter) and the kids on the streets in Amman the previous day had been seriously worried that that quirky white foreigner that was walking the street must have been freezing (I was wearing a t-shirt as it was a pleasant 17 degrees Celsius, while they were wearing a coat or a sweater) – from about 8h30 in the morning, I feel the sun burning on my skin. I am lucky that I am walking in a valley and that the hills/mountains offer some shade, but before 9h00, I have a thick layer of my factor 50 sun block sunscreen protecting my silky smooth skin against the many evils of the sun. The weather in Jordan can be brutal (little did I know then, it would get even worse).
Jordan Trail – the blazing sun at 08h30 in the morning.
My gear. From the first moment on, I struggle with the 26 kilos of material on my back. I ran over my packing list for the Jordan Trail over and over and over again. I checked it at home. Ten times. Twenty times. I check it in my hotel in Amman. At least another 5 times. But my new backpack just doesn’t feel right – it is heavy, bulky. I start to doubt – did I bring too much? What if … Should I … Wouldn’t I … I finally settle it must be the illness (and as I later the next day found out, during the transport that morning, two straps loosened up – after that it was waaay waay better).
The trail. The trail is tougher that I thought. A lot of rocks are on the trail, making sure you have to watch every step. The Jordan Trail is also more of a set of GPS coordinates than it is a trail – often times I will be checking and rechecking my GPS just to make sure I am on the right track. There are occasional cairns marking the trail, but it is often hard to decide if they are cairns for the Jordan Trail, meant for the Jordan Trail bust just placed in a strange spot, meant for another trail or are just mere pieces of art or evil-doings from a sinister group of hiker-haters who want to confuse hikers like me (I still haven’t figured it out).
My pace. I am quite used to covering 40-50km days with a 4,5-6km per hour pace. I have done and proven it it at the Nijmegen Four Days Marches, at the Laugavegur and Fimmvörðuháls trails, at the Kumano Kodo. But the Jordan Trail is different. I struggle to get in 3,5-4 km per hour. The terrain, constantly checking my GPS, my struggle with my gear and my illness are killing my pace. Another sign that it will be very very difficult to stick with my day planning. I will have to re-calibrate my ideas.
The landscape. It is surreal. The Jordan Trail is a mix between living in a movie set, that part of every zoo where they mimic the desert, every Western movie, the The Martian movie (which was filmed at Wadi Rum actually), the backgrounds in Mac OS and your Windows computer, the Karl May books I used to read as a kid and some messed up dream where you wake up next to a camel (more on that later). In other words: the landscape is amazing.
And, finally, my stomach and bowels. I’m just not well. I struggle to eat, need to go to the toilet way to much and start to feel weak. This. Is. Not. Good.
My first Bedouin encounter
Bedouin friends at the Jordan Trail
I struggle through the morning and when it’s around lunch time and I arrive at Wadi Malaga, one of the designated Wild Camp spots along the Jordan Trail and around 23,5 kilometer in, I decide to take a long break. I ask the Bedouin women who are near the camp with their goats and camels if it is ok that I camp out in the shade for a while (well, this, sounds more smooth than it actually is – by means of gestures, some Arabic words I learned and showing pieces of gear I explain my plans). I take out my inflatable sleeping pad and try to get some rest. I wake up from a noise – about 3 meters from my head, a camel is trying to doing the same (without the sleeping pad obviously).
When the men – two adults and a teenager – arrive back at the camp with supplies about an hour later, I get invited by them for tea. We sit down around a fire and try to make some small talk about the Jordan Trail, where I’m from, how many kids we have, etcetera. They ask me if I have good GPS (I have) and where the rest of my group is. I explain I’m a solo hiker and their frowns make painfully clear that they think I’m a complete idiot for hiking this trail solo. It is best -they say- to at least hike with two.
I am taking mental notes (I really like to travel on my own), but before I know it, the teenager comes in with a large bowl of home-made Mansaf (a traditional Arab dish made of lamb cooked in a sauce of fermented dried yogurt). All three men and the flies in the tent instantly dig in, while I am still wrapping my head around what to do with this situation. I had multiple toilet breaks this morning, still not feeling too well, my bowels sort of kind of returned to semi-normal … on the other hand, these guys are amazing – I really do not want to insult their hospitality. So I explain I already had food and actually show them the wrapper of the lunch meal I had – not making much of an impression.
So, trying to be polite I at least eat some spoons of Mansaf before signaling I really can not any more. And the Mansaf is off, to the other tent, where the women get our leftovers (although this is culture and normal procedure here – I still have a hard time thinking about it).
After tea and Mansaf, I miraculously feel somewhat better and decide to get in at least some more kilometers in. The Wild Camp spot of Jabal Feid is only 4 kilometers from Wadi Malaga and will bring me closer to the start of the infamous climb towards Ras Naqb Shdeid (more on that later).
I say goodbye to the Bedouin family, the camels and sheep and leave for Jabal Feid. The trail again is beautiful. Beautiful but tough. The terrain is littered with rocks and I’m crossing wadi after wadi, while trying to do the best I can in sticking to the trail.
Another amazing view
Camping at the end of day 1 on the Jordan Trail
But the view at the end of the day makes up for everything that happened in the day before. I set up camp with a panoramic view over the whole valley and the sunset, no living soul in sight. Only when darkness falls, small lights pop up in the dark – proof there are others preparing dinner, reflecting on the day and preparing to get to sleep (also read on my evening routine).
Day 2 of my Jordan Trail Dana to Petra solo hike: Jabal Feid to Qutla Ruins (sort of)
My alarm is set on 5h15. Civil twilight starts at around 5h30 and from that moment on it is light enough to hike. I try to eat some nut bars to at least have some calories in for the rest of the day. I pack and by 6h00, I am back on the trail (also, read on my normal morning routine).
First challenge is the infamous Ras Naqb Shdeid climb several hikers warned me about. One hiker had warned me that the climb was tougher than the Fimmvörðuháls climb and somewhat more than a week earlier, another hiker had to be rescued from the climb by the Jordanian armed forces.
For me -probably because I did the hike in the morning and was mentally prepared by these two stories- the hike was tough but ok. Not that I did not curse several times while seeing the boulders I had to climb or another twist and turn I had to take before reaching the top.
Ras Naqb Shdeid hit me on the way down. Descending into the canyon I felt weaker and weaker. I was more stumbling than walking – a clear sign that yesterday’s illness and not eating enough had cut into my reserves and that last night’s sleep hadn’t sufficiently replenished my energy. I had to sit for 30 minutes in the shade just to catch my breath.
The Jordan Trail equivalent of a five-star hotel
Hairclip to close pouch – cooking on the Jordan Trail
My forced stop was actually not that far from the last reliable water source before Little Petra (some 24 kilometers further on the trail): a peaceful little stream and small pond and it worked as the Jordan Trail equivalent of a five-star hotel
As my day- and water planning didn’t match my pace any more, I had to refill my Camelbak bladders and other water bottles for the next 1,5 day (until when I should be able to make it to Little Petra). I took the time to cook a proper lunch (note my hair clip hack?), wash and clean up, drink as much as I could (after purification of course) and be 100% ready for the rest of the day.
And just when you think you’re ready … there’s the Jordan Trail.
On the Jordan Trail you’re never 100% ready – Jordan Trail Dana to Petra
In the next 10 kilometers a lot of things happened that made a bad day even worse.
The dense vegetation. The trail description on the Jordan Trail Association had warned me for dense vegetation and an occasional stream that had to be passed. Well, the trail certainly lived up to that reputation. Navigating thick vegetation with a 26kg backpack is tough. Considering the trail, I am actually quite proud I only fell into the stream once (only with both feet), but enough to soak my boots.
Then the not-wadi. A kilometer later, a beautiful wadi opened up. Amazing rocks were the first time I got a glimpse of how Little Petra and Petra would look like. When I routinely checked my GPS to see if I was still on track (pretty much like a phone-addicted teenager keeps flipping through Insta), I didn’t see the track on my GPS – the sign that you messed up. So I had to backtrack through the beautiful wadi to the point where I lost the trail. Turned out the trail wasn’t following the wadi, but a hardly discernible goat path up the mountain. When I finally found the trail, it took all my effort to keep on the trail.
These two things primed my mind. I was now used to difficult to navigate and difficult to walk trails – which set me up for the biggest mistake I made during my trail.
The big screw up
Following the goat trail up the hill, the trail became harder and harder. In my new plans I had hoped to get to Little Petra that day, but quickly realised that would be impossible. The path would take me on a difficult to walk goat trail on a slope.
Every step was tiring – continually balancing to not fall, choosing between the high path which was slightly more even, near a steep cliff where thorny trees were and a lower path where there was continually the risk of tripping and slipping on loose rocks. Only the recent goat drops and some vague foot prints from others assured me that there actually must have been people here before.
I saw my pace going down to 1,5-2 km per hour, sometimes even less. I was inching closer to Qutla Ruins, the Wild Camp I had to settle on because I didn’t seem to get closer to Little Petra. But as the sun was setting and I still had a few hundred meters to go to Qutla, I got very frustrated with the situation.
It is only then that I realize I messed up big time. While I was struggling to inch closer to Qutla Ruins, the real trail was 7-10 above me … on top of the cliff. I had been so occupied with the trail being difficult and trying to stick to the path, that I had lost sight of the overall picture.
As the sunset is closing in I try to find the best possible spot to set up camp, and decide on an overhanging ridge with plenty of space for a tent. Not ideal in the sense that there is no real flat piece of land, but it isn’t littered with rocks (like the rest of the slope) and isn’t a slope (like the rest of the slope). I try to eat something, but even the smell of my Adventure Food Pasta Bolognese (normally one of my favorites) makes me almost vomit.
I skipped my normal evening routine to just get some sleep. I would be fresh in the morning, hopefully better equipped to deal with the situation.
Day 3 of my Jordan Trail Dana to Petra solo hike: Qutla Ruins to Petra (sort of)
When I wake up, I instantly snapped back into the situation. So I did what I have learned from preparing what to do in case of a snake bite: sit down for 5 minutes and think – what is the plan.
The situation, the options
I’m in a tent on a slope with approximately 3 liters of water left. The Jordan Trail is above me – about 7-10 meters higher than I currently am. I have several options.
Down the slope. I considered this for a second, to at least be away from the slope. As I did not see any footpaths on my GPS or Gaia maps nearby, I ruled this out as an option – I had no idea of knowing this would get me in even more problems – without means to get out of the valley and without water. Not an option.
Turn back. I also considered this. But remembering the struggle I had the last several hours of the previous day, this does not seem a safer option. Another problem here is that I only have 3 liter of water, which would mean I would have to head all the way back to the stream/pond of the previous day to fully refill my water, losing a full day on the trail. Only last resort.
Go on. Although this wasn’t really my idea of a nice hike in Jordan, I could struggle on for another few hundred meters. In the far distance (about 400-500 meters), the cliff seemed to stop and turn into a more gradual climb.
Go up. Where I camped for the night, there was no option to climb out of the canyon. But there might be on other places. The earlier I could get out of the canyon, the earlier I was back into safety. I really did not want to risk spending too much time on the slope – it felt like a ticking time bomb waiting to detonate. Every step was a risk to slip and slide down the slope for at least a few meters (or worse). 400-500 meters are a lot of steps – a lot of opportunities to slip and fall.
Signal in help via my Garmin InReach or Personal Locator Beacon. As I did not feel I was in imminent and/or life-threatening danger, this felt like the nuclear option – to strong of a means to reach my goal of continuing the path. I could still do this if I got myself in even more problems (which of course, was certainly not my intention).
So I decided to move on and either try and climb out the earliest moment or struggle on – in about 400-500 meters (which would probably take me 1,5 hours), there seemed to be a less steep part of the ridge where I might be able to climb up.
After approximately 100 meter in 40 minutes, I found a spot that seemed fit to climb. Steep, dangerous and without certainty the opportunity to climb would extend to the top of the climb – but the first serious opportunity to do so. So I decide to go for it.
I strap my backpack extra tight, connect my trekking poles to my backpack and climb up. I take moment to breathe. I make sure my arms can keep my weight, make sure there are no loose rocks (or I remove them), make sure every step I take counts – that my feet are on solid ground and won’t topple a rock.
And finally after what feels like a 30 minute climb (but probably was only 10) …
Yes.
I think I’ve never been as happy in my life to see a dusty trail. The Jordan Trail. I fall down, take a moment to get myself together and slowly move on.
As I heard later from Leif, another hiker (read his tips here or visit his website), he and his friend made exactly the same mistake here.
Getting liberation from the trail’s remoteness – Jordan Trail Dana to Petra
It is then it struck me as well I had not seen another human since meeting the Bedouin tribe at Wadi Malaga on the first day, about 36 hours earlier. The sheer remoteness that is sometimes dangerous (when you’re stuck in a canyon, alone), also felt liberating.
After that, the day went like a breeze, I was able to get back to my normal pace of 4,5-6 kilometers per hour. I felt the best I had felt in the last three days.
A small bummer was that the water source at Qutla Ruins (not too far from where I had spent the night on the slope), had dried up, making that there was only a small chance there was water 6 kilometers further on the trail at another Wild Camp site.
