Our trip was encumbered by last minute flights, failed visas and midnight meetings with the production team. The project was to shoot a short film for the Saudi tourist board, a new push for gender equality and tourism in the Kingdom. Ironically Ewa couldn’t get the visa to enter the country and we opted for Jordan to find a Saudi like mountain to jump off.
Jordan reminded me of Oman, a more liberal Arab country with amazing landscape and hospitable, honest people. Adeeb, our guide, drove us around for the few days, pointing to cliffs in the distance and driving to the base of them so we could calculate the height. If we concluded it was jumpable the next problem became the access. The huge monoliths of sandstone rose vertically from the desert floor, most of them inaccessible without climbing. Jebel Nassrani particularly stood out to us; it towered above the others at 450m. A minimum of 12 pitches of hard climbing stood between us and the summit so it would have to wait for another trip.
After another day of cliff measuring the sun started to dip below the mountains and the locals parked up in the niches around Wadi Rum, laying out their prayer mats and starting small fires to make tea. A small group beckoned us over, offering us tea when they noticed our climbing equipment. They seemed very keen for me to climb a certain route. It transpired they believed there was treasure in a hole which looked like it had been packed with mud. They seemed more hopeful then certain, but treasures lost to time have been found in crevasses and caves around the Rum. Previous attempts had seen them stuck on a ledge finding it impossible to overcome a small pillar. One of them brought out his rack of gear, probably passed to him by French climbers over the years, mismatched cams and carabiners, missing springs and cables. I got a bit further than their previous attempts but the darkness was falling and I retreated, becoming yet another bullet point on the list of reasons to return to the wadi.
Adeeb introduced us to a new guide that night. Abdul took us to a mountain outside of the protected area where he showed us a daunting sheer cliff face. A gully on the Eastern side was marked by cairns, and a steep scramble lead to the summit plateau. We returned the following day with our parachutes packed and Abdul eager to help. We would need him to take some of the gear back down. He took off his sandals and continued the 2 hours scramble, following us without any difficulty. Only half way through the scramble up did he realize we weren’t planning on walking down with him and he was quick to tell us he preferred not to jump. On the return journey he said the black rocks on the summit had heated up to much for him to walk on, and had to continue on tiptoes.
High runnels of sandstone ran horizontally across the summit plateau. We had to find the correct one to walk down to reach the South side of the mountain where our exit was located. When we got there locating the precise exit point was obvious, making the decision very easy between us. A perfect gearing up area, an overhanging cliff and the most amazing view for a BASE jump. Like jumping of a cliff on Mars. When we were ready Abdul called up his local friends to drive to the landing area, telling us that we may need them if the “flies” come. The local terminology for the police, which makes perfect sense in a tourist rich area. At this point the flies didn’t worry us much and we were focused on the jump. It wasn’t what I would normally consider a wingsuit jump, the height didn’t allow for a decent flight, but I was glad we got our Wadi Rum adventure. It wasn’t what they needed for the production, but it was what I needed from the trip, an adventure where the planning and effort pays off.
