Returning two years later to where It all began

As the war was starting to wind down and Israel began preparing for its National Memorial Day for October 7th, I found myself thinking about how to reach fellow reservists like myself. To “get into the spirit” and close this chapter of our lives, we need to return to the place where it all began.

Over the past year, our charity has been using mountain biking as a way to reconnect to feel the land, to breathe again, and to connect with each other.

So, we did it. And what happened was so powerful it deserves to be shared. I hope this story lifts you the same way it did for us when we came back home from the Gaza Envelope, closing a chapter together.

A Heavy Pot, a Bonfire, and Conversations Begin

It was already late when the cars started to roll into the open fields of the Gaza Envelope. Everyone had come after work, or after putting the kids to sleep before the long drive south. We pitched tents, lit a fire, cooked a stew, caught up with each other and in the quiet desert night, conversations began to open up.

Some of us already knew each other; most simply wanted to reconnect. Activities were introduced to help open up even more like writing a personal letter to ourselves,one that would be mailed back exactly one year from now.

Back on Familiar Ground

When the sun rose, the familiar landscape revealed itself again eucalyptus trees, sandy soil, and deep streambeds. Some brought their own bikes, and for others Masa Beyachad provided, thanks to Adcore’s generous donation of five mountain bikes that the charity now uses weekly.

Kissufim singletrack 12 miles of beauty

Like soldiers before a mission, after a short briefing we got on our bikes and started riding the Kissufim singletrack a beautiful, well-designed trail so remote that most had never heard of it, let alone known it existed while serving here during the war.

Nature worked its magic. Everyone was focused, adrenaline pumping, spirits high feeling the flow, the connection, and a deep calm. Conversations continued as we rode: about life since the war, about family, work, and who we want to be moving forward. At one point, someone said: “I forgot how much I missed this just being outside. With all the worries of kids and work, just being with guys like me, in the same space, feeling the same things.”

You could feel the positive energy in the air.

Yotam and the Reunion at the Kibbutz

Yotam, a member of Kibbutz Kissufim who survived that day to tell the story, led us throughout the ride. As a passionate mountain biker, this is his backyard his home trail.

4 miles from the the fence

Beyond guiding us, he offered his local perspective on the events something we soldiers often forget to consider, as our focus is usually elsewhere. We gained new insight into what happened to him and his family on October 7th. He pointed out parts of the landscape and shared the stories behind them. Without him, we would have ridden right past the Psydak music festival site without even noticing.

He shared how he had planned to attend the festival but canceled at the last minute,while some of his friends went and never came back. Their stories, his memories, brought us all back to where we were two years ago. Another remarkable fact  Yotam’s connection with Masa Beyachad began early in the war. Amichai reached out to him after hearing he was both a displaced resident and a mountain biker. Together, they created a riding group for kibbutz evacuees with a simple goal: to get parents out of crowded hotel for a few hours,to breathe, to talk, and to rebuild some sense of community even if only for a moment. For nearly a year, that group rode through the desert, sharing stories and finding release.

Kisuffim parents at Ramon Crater, February 2024

We finished the trail in one piece, and Yotam agreed to lead us through the kibbutz itself. It was the first time many of us had returned since October 2023, when the place was still in ruins and the fighting continued elsewhere.

By chance, we met Gil a dairy farmer who, upon seeing Amichai, climbed down from his tractor to greet him. He too had joined rides and lunches with Masa Beyachad back in those early days.

Gil with the newly rebuilt dairy farm named after his friend Ruben

He spoke softly, sharing his story, and we were all captivated. It struck a deep chord because the cow barn held difficult memories for many of us. In the first days after the attack, our platoon had reached the barn searching for the enemy. We were met with cows frantic from hunger and thirst, suffering from the pain of being unmilked. Some were already lying dead. We returned several times, helpless the facility was destroyed, and we had no idea how to operate it. The sounds and images of that day still echo in our minds.

Gil told us how he and Reuven tried to return to the barn on October 9th, despite the evacuation order and the army declaring the area a closed zone. They couldn’t stand knowing the animals were suffering. So they risked it. Terrorists hiding in the milking facility ambushed them, killing Reuven and narrowly missing Gil. He survived by crawling out and hiding in the bushes. As the army realized what was happening, they came in full force. Gil  terrified and mourning his friend prayed that the soldiers arriving wouldn’t mistake him for one of the terrorists. Above him, tanks and helicopters bombed the very facility he had built his life around.

We now stood face-to-face with someone who had lived it, filling in the missing pieces of a story we had only known secondhand. Hearing his words brought us right back to those days. But now, seeing the brand-new milking center rebuilt modern, clean, calm, alive brought a deep sense of relief and healing. We shared photos on WhatsApp with the rest of the platoon, and the reactions were warm and emotional.

Human Connection Beyond the Trail

One of the most emotional moments came when Ofir, the sergeant of Squad 4, realized that during the war, his unit had been stationed in Yotam’s house. They shared their feelings about it. Yotam told him how strange it felt knowing someone else had slept in his bed, eaten from his fridge. Ofir spoke about how they tried to respect the space keeping it clean, organized, and private and even apologized for the damage to the living room and TV, which wasn’t their fault, caused by a mortar that hit just outside. Two years later, not many words were needed. A hug and a smile were enough.

Back to October 2023

Returning with Meaning

The landscape, the people, and the stories created exactly what we were looking for a meaningful way to mark two years since October 7th, and a reminder that this place like our people is rebuilding, rising, and moving forward.

Am Yisrael Chai 🇮🇱

Masa Beyachad is proud to continue supporting our reservist brothers and all those returning home  through nature, movement, and connection.

Healing Together