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Park or alight from bus #185 at Afek Junction, on Route #444. The jagged
outline of the 16th-century Turkish- built fort at the source of the Yarkon
River is the first port of call (there is an entrance fee). Prepare to spend
at least an hour and half at the site; double that time to include the very
pleasant gardens containing sources supplying water to the Yarkon.
 Relative to this high ground's long history, the Ottoman Turks were
relatively recent arrivals. The site was already a walled city some 5,000
years ago: it is mentioned by name in contemporary Egyptian execration
texts. Fragments of the Egyptian ruler's quarters from the slightly later
period under Egyptian conquest have been uncovered southwest of the Turkish
fort.
The gently sloping view to the coast helps to explain its importance. It
oversees the Via Maris, the ’Way of the Sea’ coastal overland trading route
between the two major Middle Eastern powers of the day — ancient Egypt and
Mesopotamia (now Iraq). Whoever commanded that site had a firm hand on the
windpipe of international commerce and travel.
Joshua must have known the strategic value of Afek, as it was then known,
and successfully targeted it (Joshua 12:18): a small portion of the
Canaanite monumental building has been exposed just inside the gate of the
fort, with arrowheads from the period found driven into the walls. The
conquering Philistines, however, were a technologically advanced and far
more formidable enemy. They occupied the coastline including Afek, and were
making partially successful incursions onto the higher ground — to the
continuing anxiety of Samson, Eli and Samuel. Their capture of Afek enabled
them to rout the Israelites and carry off the Ark of the Tabernacle as a
trophy from the battlefield (I Samuel 4).
 Exploring such an archeological site presents the challenge of identifying
items from different periods and societies — often virtually on top of one
another. The strategic value of this site was not lost on Herod, who renamed
it Antipatris, after Antipater, his father: remains of the Herodian street
with the flagstones laid in a herringbone pattern are still in place. The
city suffered in the First Revolt (66-70 CE), and its subsequent development
terminated in the earthquake of 363 CE. And as the thrust of the Ottoman
Empire waned much later on, the fort fell into disuse, but its area and
surroundings were developed into army headquarters under the British, and
continue to serve the Israeli Border Police in a similar capacity.
LEAVE THE site the way you came in, and follow the Israel Trail signs across
Route #483 for the first surprise of this 20 km., eight-hour trek: fields of
ripening cotton in the shadow of Rosh Ha’ayin. Their flowers — cotton wool -
contain tightly embedded cotton seeds extractable only with difficulty. I
hadn’t realized that these natural fibers grow so far north. Neither had I
expected to see rows of Beduin-type tents, which on closer inspection, I saw
had the sole purpose of shielding the fields from the sun.
 The path follows the railway for the next half-hour, with rusting trilingual
signs warning hikers ad nauseam that ’trespassers will be prosecuted.’
Rather surprising, as that single track linking Lod and Kfar Saba has not
conveyed passenger traffic for nearly a decade. Presently the trail
traverses the railway over a level crossing that looks fresh out of a model
railway catalog. The tasteful, newly constructed buildings of Elad slowly
emerge and become clearer as the trail ducks under the Route #6, the
Trans-Israel Highway, winding up at the late-Roman built mausoleum at Mazor
on Route #444.
This small building with a classical portico comes as a surprise.
Cube-shaped, the structure functioned as a family burial vault at the
beginning of the fourth century CE. The very diminutive entrance is thought
to resemble the open mouth of a dolphin, which was believed to accompany the
deceased to the Next World. The adjoining room inside has some 60 incisions:
it is unclear whether they were holes for raising pigeons as part of pagan
Roman ritual, or whether they were to hold the ashes of the owner’s deceased
slaves. It has survived in good condition, as it subsequently became a
venerated Muslim holy place, Makam en-Nabi Yahya. Use a flashlight to find
the mihrab (Mecca- facing prayer niche) in the southern wall of the main
room.
Right behind ancient Mazor is contemporary Elad, whose many newlyweds form a
large part of its 100% religious population, which include virtually all
streams of Orthodox and haredi Jews. It offers affordable, well-designed
housing, frequent bus services to Petah Tikva and Tel Aviv, and a sea view
down to the Mediterranean. Its accelerating population growth approaching
30,000 souls and 18 synagogues contains (in contrast to nearby Modi’in) few
native English speakers, other than a handful of Americans of Sephardi
origin. This settlement is fenced off from Mazor, and also from the Israel
Trail, which skirts its southern side.
Opposite are the remains of the far more basic settlement of Hatzrot Koah.
The Hebrew letters kaf het spell ’strength.’ They also have the numerical
value of 28 — in commemoration of that number of soldiers killed in the
struggle for the nearby strategic high ground in the 1948 War of
Independence. More recently, its caravans have served as emergency temporary
housing for Ethiopian immigrants, as the supply of suitable accommodation at
nearby Modi’in reached saturation-point.
Now comes the most pleasant part of the walk. Candle- shaped, well-placed
cypress trees herald Israel Trail and other walkers into very attractive
mixed Mediterranean woodland. Faint but unmistakable fragrance breaks
through — of fresh eucalyptus, oaks, pines, cedars and cypress.
The amply shaded area climbs steadily above the Mazor Valley, for much part
avoiding the scars of the nearby quarrying. Within an hour from Mazor, the
trail clambers over limestone outcrops, and then plunges down into a 250-
meter ruler-straight tunnel under Route #6. These tunnels do not only serve
the walker, but link together wildlife communities arbitrarily fragmented by
the recent construction of the Trans-Israel toll highway.
I trod carefully, half-expecting to disturb a community of snakes or hyenas,
but the wildlife yearning to reunite with their brethren on the other side -
if any — were appropriately discreet. The same could not be said of the
horned cattle a little further on, but they soon relented and returned to
their lazier pursuits.
With glimpses of the red roofs of nearby Shoham, and the chimneys of Reading
Power Station at Tel Aviv far beyond, the rest of the way to Modi’in proved
to be a losing battle against the gathering dusk — those wishing to examine
the Roman-Byzantine mosaics, water cisterns and neatly cut stones of Navalat
(entrance is free), just north of the modern settlement of Beit Nehemia,
should time their arrival more wisely. Better hurry before it is fenced and
zoned as a pay-as-you-enter tourist attraction.
The path becomes challenging towards the end with its steep ascent through
olive plantations to the remains of the late-Bronze Age settlement of Tel
Hadid — which received a mention in the writings of Bishop Eusebius of
Caesarea (fourth century CE) and on the Madaba Map (sixth century) in
Jordan. By now, you may feel you are on an endurance test — proving your
loyalty to the trail.
Eventually, the way descends under Route #443 to a clearing of oak trees,
facing Mitzpe Modi’in — covered in the next stage of the trail. The bus stop
is a short walk westwards, with services to Lod.
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