Hiking the Ancient Landscapes: Mountain Trails Around Jericho, Palestine

Mount Temptation (Jabal al-Qarantal) rises dramatically from Jericho's outskirts, its limestone face scarred by centuries of wind and rain—nature's own patient craftwork. According to Christian tradition, this is where Jesus was tempted by the devil during his 40-day fast, but the mountain's allure transcends any single narrative.

The main trail begins near the Tel es-Sultan archaeological site and winds upward through terrain that shifts from desert scrub to exposed rock face. I started my ascent just after dawn, my trekking poles clicking rhythmically against stone steps that felt worn by millennia of pilgrims and wanderers.

About halfway up sits the remarkable Monastery of the Temptation (Deir al-Qarantal), quite literally carved into the mountainside. The monastery clings to the cliff like an intricate wooden inlay in one of my father's cedar boxes—seemingly impossible yet perfectly executed. Inside, Greek Orthodox monks maintain traditions dating back to the Byzantine era, and the quiet reverence of the space provides perfect respite from the increasingly challenging climb.

Reaching the summit rewards you with panoramic views across the Jordan Valley, the Dead Sea, and on clear days, even Jerusalem. The landscape below resembles a tapestry of textures—date palm groves, agricultural plots, and ancient ruins all woven together by time.

If Mount Temptation represents the vertical challenge, Wadi Qelt offers the horizontal adventure—a spectacular gorge cutting through the Judean Desert from Jerusalem to Jericho. This ancient trade route has served as passage for everyone from prophets to merchants for thousands of years.

The most accessible section for weekend hikers begins near the St. George Monastery (another architectural marvel embedded in the cliffside) and follows the wadi's contours for about 8km toward Jericho. The trail hugs the canyon walls, occasionally dipping down to cross the seasonal stream that, during my October visit, was little more than occasional pools reflecting the ochre cliffs above.

What makes Wadi Qelt extraordinary is the contrast—harsh desert terrain suddenly interrupted by lush oases where freshwater springs create pockets of almost tropical vegetation. These microenvironments remind me of the maker communities I've encountered worldwide—small, vibrant collectives thriving against all odds in unexpected places.

The terrain can be loose and rocky in sections, so I was grateful for my hiking boots which provided the ankle support needed for navigating the uneven path. I've tried lighter trail runners in similar terrain, but nothing beats proper boots when scrambling over boulders and loose scree.

Bring a compact binoculars if you can—the canyon is home to Palestinian sunbirds, eagles, and if you're lucky, the Nubian ibex with their impressive curved horns navigating seemingly impossible cliff faces with the same ease as the most experienced climbers.

While most tourists flock to the biblical sites, my favorite discovery came through a chance conversation with a local olive wood carver in Jericho's market. He sketched a route on my map leading to what locals call Sultan Mountain (Jabal Sultan)—a less-trafficked trail offering spectacular views of the ancient tell and surrounding palm groves.

Unlike the more established paths, this 6km loop requires some wayfinding skills, as trail markers are inconsistent at best. I loaded the route into my hiking GPS before setting out, which proved invaluable when the path seemed to disappear among the rocky outcroppings.

What makes this trail special is its proximity to active agricultural areas. The transition from desert to cultivated land is abrupt—a testament to Jericho's ancient irrigation systems that have transformed this arid landscape for millennia. In fall, you'll likely encounter farmers harvesting dates from the region's famous palm groves, continuing traditions that have remained largely unchanged for centuries.

The trail eventually climbs to a modest summit offering 360-degree views encompassing both natural and human history—from ancient tells (archaeological mounds) to modern settlements. I spent nearly an hour at the top, sketching the landscape in my travel journal and marveling at how the afternoon light transformed the textures of the landscape below.

This route feels like discovering the weft threads in a complex tapestry—the less visible elements that hold everything together and reveal the true craftsmanship of a place.

Solo hiking in this region requires thoughtful preparation, particularly regarding water, navigation, and cultural considerations. I've found that carrying a hydration bladder rather than bottles makes it easier to stay hydrated consistently throughout the day—crucial in this desert environment even during the milder fall months.

The area around Jericho experiences dramatic temperature swings, especially in autumn. I set out one morning in a light jacket only to be stripping down to my base layer by mid-morning. Layering is essential, and I never hike here without my sun hat which provides crucial protection during exposed sections of trail.

As a solo female traveler, I found the hiking areas around Jericho to be generally welcoming and safe, though I always exercise standard precautions. Local guides can be arranged through guesthouses in Jericho for very reasonable rates (usually 150-300 NIS depending on the trail), and they add immeasurable value through their knowledge of both the landscape and its cultural significance.

I've learned to approach these trails with the same mindfulness a weaver approaches their loom—with respect for the patterns established before me and an awareness that I'm simply passing through a landscape that has witnessed thousands of years of human journeys. Each step feels like a small stitch in an ongoing story of human connection to these ancient mountains.