Feb 2019- Hike in the Western Hajras Mountains of Oman

Susan and I would not have considered going to Oman had we not seen an episode about the country on Parts Unknown. (https://explorepartsunknown.com/oman/episode-intel-from-Oman/)

Once we made up our minds to go and read the Lonely Planet we had to choose between the “spectacular mountains, wind-blown deserts or pristine coastline” since we only had 5 days to take it in. Our friend Yaroslav suggested “…forget the desert, go to the mountains”, and so we did. I love mountains and was intrigued by this rarely mentioned mountain range in the Arabian Peninsula. A connection of his put us in touch with a mountain guide, Rashid.

We rented a 4-wheel drive (mandatory we were told) in Muscat and drove to Nizwa, a town with access to the mountains. The roads to Nizwa were as good as any in North America. We spent a day in Nizwa and set out before daybreak the next day to meet Rashid at a spot in the mountains from where we would start the hike.  About four-fifths of the way, the road changed abruptly. It turned to dirt, narrowed and descended a mountainside. I was not used to this, switch back after switchback. There were no guardrails and not even trees to prevent a catastrophe. That it required extreme concentration is an understatement. It took over two hours to go some 15 kM.

We reached the bottom and yet no relief. Here we had to drive about 30 m across a body of water of indeterminate depth. I had only seen such driving adventures in the moves and now we were fully into it. I just hoped that the road actually continued on the other side, as it was not totally visible. Somehow, we made it to Rashid at about 9 am. We transferred to his old Land Rover and drove a short distance to the starting point of the hike. It started gently enough. We followed a wadi (dry river bed) up the mountainside. The desert scenery was very foreign to our Canadian experiences and mind blowing. In an hour or two we came to a beautiful cluster of mountain houses. No roads served the people here and they only got electricity in the early 2000s. A goat herding family invited us into their hut for tea and fresh dates, the like of which I have never tasted before. 

Soon after this break, the hike turned into an arduous climb. It must have been a good thousand meters sometimes on side of a sheer cliff. What struck us was the utter quiet. There wasn’t even the rustling of the trees, but the view was worth a million dollars.  We kept ascending and at the top crawled through a “cave” to get to the other side before beginning the decent, which was not as challenging as the accent. At about two or three in the afternoon we reached Rashid’s village and he invited us into his house for lunch of fish cooked in local spices and rice. It was quite tasty and I appreciated the rest.

Now, I thought the day surely must be nearing an end. I became concerned that we get back on the road as that same dangerous journey lay ahead, but only this time it was uphill. I really wanted to put it behind us before dark. Unfortunately, this was not to be, as the vehicle that was to return us lay on the far side of the “Snake Canyon”. But before that Rashid wanted to show us a fort and the “gardens”.  The garden it turned out was where the village crops were grown with water brought down from the mountain via and aqueduct.  We walked through the gardens stepping on to the 18” wide concrete aqueduct that wound through the crops at ground level. Eventually the land fell off into a gorge and before we knew it, we were walking on the aqueduct over the gorge that was about 30 feet below us. There were no guardrails to arrest a fall. Every step became deliberate. By this time the thoughts of how our bodies would be returned home had become passé. On the far side of the gorge lay the entrance to the canyon.   We made it through the Snake Canyon, which was remarkably narrow, deep and winding and got to the vehicle that took us back to our own rented SUV.

I started the vehicle. The air pressure gage indicated that the pressure in the right front tire was low. It flashed continuously but I decided to ignore it and also the thorns that were stuck in my hand from grabbing a plant along the way. First it was back across the water. That was less of an unknown now.  The assent of that perilous road began. We encountered a steep climb where the vehicle could not make it. The wheels were spinning in the dirt. The smell of the burning engine filled the air. Susan told me to stop as she thought the motor would burn out. I backed down slowly without being able to really see very much. From lower down I floored it and was able to get enough momentum to make it over. I should add that when you are going up a steep incline the hood blocks your view of the road and you can only hope for the best. This uphill stalling happened once more and I realized that it was best to keep up a certain speed in order not to stall again. Once we made it back to the paved road, we stopped and got out of the vehicle at a lookout point. My knees felt rubbery. We were grateful to be alive. It had been worth it.