February 16, 2026February 16, 2026 Susannah

The Ramon Crater: Zakif Ramon

Hikes in the South, Hiking Through Israel

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Trail Map	Hike it with Google Earth	Terrain View
Distance: 23.6km	Time: 5 hours	Difficulty: Strenuous
Ascent: 539m

If there’s one thing we’ve learned from years of hiking together, it’s that our best adventures tend to come with the least amount of planning. And this particular trip to the Ramon Crater was no exception.

We had driven down for a day of hiking and set up camp for the night in the crater. It was an incredible day of hiking, followed by a quiet evening under the stars — the kind of peaceful, simple night that makes you wonder why you don’t do this more often. We should have been satisfied. We should have packed up in the morning and headed home.

Instead, we woke up and decided to hike into the far reaches of the crater.

Now, when I say “decided,” I mean it in the loosest possible sense. There was no mapped-out route, no carefully calculated water-to-distance ratio, no sober assessment of how many hours of daylight we’d need. There was just a direction — deeper into the makhtesh, toward the parts we hadn’t explored, to something called Zakif Ramon — and a feeling that we had to go there.

The thing about the far side of the Ramon Crater is that there are no access roads for regular cars, just 4×4’s. Which means that if you want to hike in, you also have to hike out. And that makes for a very long day. But it also means something else: solitude. No tour groups, no other hikers, no cars kicking up dust in the distance. Just the two of us and the endless, otherworldly beauty of the crater stretching out in every direction.

I’m still going through our pictures from that day, trying to piece together the trail and reconstruct exactly where we went and what we saw. But I can tell you this much already: it was one of the most peaceful hikes we’ve ever taken in the Ramon Crater. And that’s saying something.

Let’s Do This

We started off that morning on a jeep trail — really just a long, flat dust road that stretched out ahead of us toward the far side of the crater. It was cold. The kind of desert cold that makes you zip your jacket all the way up and shove your hands deep into your pockets. Our breath hung in the air as we walked, and for a while, the only sound was the crunch of our feet on the packed dirt.

There’s nothing particularly exciting about a jeep trail. No scrambles, no dramatic overlooks, no trail markers to hunt for between the rocks. But there’s something to be said for a long, quiet walk at the start of a big day. It gives your legs a chance to loosen up, your body a chance to adjust. And slowly, as we walked, the morning chill began to lift. The sun climbed higher and the air softened, and by the time we could see the turnoff to the red trail up ahead, we had peeled off a layer and found our rhythm.

Just before the turnoff, we spotted a little rock cliff off to the side of the trail, with a sheltered nook tucked in behind it. Without a word, we both veered off the path and dropped our bags. This was the spot.

Avi fired up the camp stove and I pulled out the coffee and breakfast supplies. We sat there in our own private little alcove, sipping hot coffee, completely hidden from the trail. It was so quiet. So still. Just us and the coffee and the cool morning air and the wide open crater beyond.

What struck me as we sat there was how green everything was. It was winter in the Negev, and recent rains had coaxed life out of the desert floor. Little bushes and scrubby plants dotted the landscape in shades of sage and olive. For a place that most people picture as barren and brown, the Ramon Crater in winter is surprisingly, beautifully alive.

On the Move

Fueled by coffee and ready to move, we turned onto the red trail. Almost immediately, the landscape felt different — quieter, more remote, like we had crossed some invisible boundary into a wilder part of the crater.

We did spot one of the only signs of human life we’d encounter all day: a lone jeep parked off to the side of the trail. Something about it sitting there in the middle of all that vast emptiness — dwarfed by the desert, framed by rock and sky — made it look like it belonged in a photograph.

Before long, we turned right onto the purple trail. This trail is part of the long multi-day loop that encircles the entire Ramon Crater — a route that serious hikers tackle over the course of about a week. We were just borrowing a piece of it for the day.

And this is where things started to get exciting. Because now, for the first time, we could see what lay ahead: mountains. A whole ridge of them, rising up from the crater floor, waiting for us. They looked both close and impossibly far at the same time.

But we weren’t there yet. For now, the trail was still flat and breezy, a pleasant walk through open desert. Every so often we passed little piles of rocks left behind by hikers who had come before us — small stone cairns and markings that felt like quiet greetings from strangers. We were here too, they seemed to say.

Then the ground began to tilt. The flat terrain gave way to the first ascent of the day, and up we went, step by step, under a sky packed with clouds. It was the kind of sky that makes everything below it look more dramatic — all contrast and light and shadow rolling across the desert. Ahead of us, a dark brown peak rose against the horizon, its deep color a sharp contrast to the pale, sandy rock beneath our feet. We climbed toward it eagerly, legs strong, lungs working, the whole wild crater unfolding behind us with every meter of elevation we gained.

On the Ascent

What followed was the kind of hiking that makes your thighs burn and your heart sing. We climbed. And climbed. And then climbed some more. The trail wound up and over and down and back up again, never letting us settle into an easy rhythm. Every time we thought we’d crested the last rise, another one appeared. But we didn’t mind. Because the higher we went, the more spectacular the views became.

At one point, we stopped and just stood there. The crater stretched out below us in every direction — massive and ancient and impossibly beautiful. We took pictures, trying to capture what we were seeing, knowing that no camera could really do it justice. Then we shouldered our packs and kept going.

The trail began to descend, but it wasn’t done with us yet. More ups and downs followed, until eventually the path narrowed to a slim ridge with drop-offs on either side. Have I mentioned that this hike was about 24 kilometers? At this point, we were deep into it — and walking along that ridge, with the ground falling away beneath us on both sides, was one amazing stretch of trail.

I’m Comin’ Home

Eventually the ridge gave way to flatter ground, and we found ourselves walking toward mountains that looked like a cartoon. The best way I can describe them is a collapsed cake — layers of deep brown rock streaked with veins of white, as if someone had poured icing down the sides and let it drip. It was strange and beautiful and perfectly fit into the scenery of the crater.

The trail led us along a narrow white pathway that cut through dark brown rock on either side. It felt almost like walking through a corridor — nature’s own hallway, leading us through to the other side. Then the landscape opened up again into flat, wide desert, and we followed the trail markers through the open expanse, making our way back toward the jeep trail where we had started so many hours earlier.

By the time the familiar dust road appeared, my legs had plenty left to give. The terrain was flat and forgiving, and something in me just needed to move. So I ran the last three kilometers back to the car. After a full day of climbing and descending and scrambling over 24 kilometers of some of the most remote and beautiful terrain in the Ramon Crater, it felt incredible to just let my legs fly across the easy ground.

We made it back tired, happy, and already talking about when we could come back. This trail to Zakif Ramon in the Ramon Crater was an amazing, unique to Israel adventure.

Hike Notes:

This is a circular trail.
Best suited to cooler weather in the fall, winter, and spring.
There are no facilities or water points on this trail. Bring plenty of water, good hiking shoes, and sun protection to hike this trail.
Use the trail map in the table up top to find your way on the trail. It is very well marked.