Historic Trade Routes, Ancient Landmarks, and Tea Breaks: Cycling the Jordan Trail

“Yalla, yalla!” Sari Husseini shouted in Arabic. “Let’s get moving!” With 10 miles ahead of us, we set off from Jebel es Saffaha, a mountain in southern Jordan known for its narrow ridge leading to the peak. To the west, the Arabah Valley bordered the Israel-Jordan line, while to the east, the Ard as Sawwan Desert shimmered toward Saudi Arabia. In spring 2022, photographer Kari Medig and I embarked on our journey with mountain bikes, a pickup truck, and our guide Sari, riding sections of the newly established 420-mile Jordan Trail, which offers extensive biking routes alongside hiking paths. Sari, who runs Cycling Jordan from Amman, accompanied us, while a driver transported us between trail segments. We began in the picturesque village of Umm Qais in the lush northwest and concluded 10 days later at the Red Sea city of Aqaba.

The Jordan Trail was officially launched in 2017 after two years of connecting ancient trade paths and trails. The goal is to bolster rural economies and invite travelers to discover the country’s rich landscapes. “I appreciate how the Jordan Trail links the nation from north to south, acting as a bridge or human highway that connects communities and fosters relationships,” stated Wael Sabanekh, a founding member of the Jordan Trail Association. “I envision the trail as a means to protect our environment and enhance it rather than destroying it for new developments or roads.”

For millennia, the region now recognized as Jordan served as a hub of trade in the biblical era. This land is rich with the remnants of Islamic rulers, Roman invaders, Crusaders, Ottoman leaders, and more. Jordan achieved independence from British colonial rule in 1946.

While cycling along the trail, what left the deepest impression on Kari and me was the kindness and hospitality of the Jordanians we met. Near Siq al-Barid, also known as Little Petra, we stumbled upon a group of men celebrating Eid al-Fitr, marking the conclusion of Ramadan, and decided to join their festivities.

Among the group was a jovial imam, whose laughter was contagious. Seemingly by magic, one of the men skillfully ignited a fire with a handful of twigs, encircled it with stones, and set a kettle on to brew tea.

Our tea experience led to a warm invitation for a late-afternoon meal. Kari and I removed our bike helmets and joined the men on a red blanket laid out beside two SUVs parked to shield us from the wind.

After two hours, Sari stood up from where we were all seated cross-legged. The light was starting to dim.

“Shukran,” he expressed, placing his right hand over his heart to thank our gracious hosts by the trail. With our bellies—and hearts—satisfied, we climbed back onto our mountain bikes and continued through a rocky terrain aglow in the soft evening light.