As a Matter of Fact, We Never Even Made it to the Golan

On our way to the trail Wednesday, we stopped off at a grocery store to stock up on provisions such as chummus, water, chocolate, cheese, etc. And in keeping with the theme of our trip, the water we bought turned out to not be water after all. It was seltzer.
See, nothing was phased by our plans. We had plans to rent a car; we ended up having to bus. We had plans to do a particular hike, but because no one thought to check the egged schedule the night before, we had to change to another hike. Even Hike: Plan B didn’t work out because we got such a late start that we could only go a couple of hours into the hike before having to turn back. Etc.
It was, of course, the awesomest time I had in Israel. And not even because we stayed on a dude ranch with horses and a common room fully stocked with Madlibs and hula-hoops, or because I got to prove how hardcore a hiker I am to Michael who doubted me, or because I finally learned how to properly pronounce a reish, but because Randy pulled a Needlestein on the first day.