ERBIL, Kurdistan Region - After five years of scouting, planning, and collaborating, the final leg of the two-week Zagros Mountain Trail (ZMT) thru-hike was completed earlier this month by an intrepid team including the legendary co-founders of the path Leon McCarron, an Irish explorer and writer, and Lawin Mohammad, a Kurd from northeast Syria (Rojava) with an equal thirst for adventure. The success of the route, which its advocates hope could one day be on-par with world-class hikes such as the Camino de Santiago, Appalachian and Jordan trails, rests with the local community. Constructed through conversations and built on partnerships, the trail is for them and through them, and a treat for visitors to the Region fortunate enough to set foot on the cross-cultural journey.
A total of around 220km through the Kurdistan Region, the ZMT is designed to take walkers along pilgrimage and mountain passes, trading paths, and shepherding tracks of the Region's largest mountain range as it sweeps through 36 communities and five towns - Akre, Dinarta, Soran, Rawanduz, and Choman - to reach the foot of Mount Halgurd in the east. The route covers a number of cultural and religious sights including the Rawanduz canyons, Mar Odisho Monastery, and Shanidar Cave, excavated a few decades ago to reveal 60,000 year-old Neanderthal remains. There are additional hopes that the ancient monastery of Alqosh will one day be the starting point, and that the Yazidi temple of Lalish and Assyrian archaeological site of Khenis, too - both not too far-off the beaten, and meticulously mapped, track - might eventually be incorporated.
Setting off on May 1, Leon and Lawin led a small, ambitious team across the trail they have spent the best part of the past five years constructing, beginning from the centre of Shush, west of Akre, in the home of the local mukhtar; a village with enormous Jewish history, but also Christian and Muslim too. With just one rest day, the fourteen-day thru-hike covered hundreds of kilometres. Stella Martany, Meena Rawandozi, and Emily Garthwaite - an Assyrian, Kurd, and well-known British photographer, all in their twenties - took part. Trail designer David Landis joined from the US to provide his expertise, along with Ben Barrows from Canada and John Atick from Palestine, both members of the US-based Abraham Path Initiative (API). On the final day of the two-week journey, an eager journalist tagged along, setting off on the 13km leg in the early hours of May 14. Alongside local guides stationed across the trail, the group - occasionally joined by their cheery support driver, Miran - successfully walked the entire route, eating and sleeping in guest houses along the way. It was a remarkable achievement.
Five-year project
Lawin arrived in the Kurdistan Region ten years ago, aged 23. His involvement in the ZMT began when he met Leon in 2016 through a mutual friend - both working on a documentary about the Kurdish mountains. Leon spotted a donkey trail from Amedi and “the appetite was whetted,” Lawin smiles, explaining how donkey trails make for smooth tracks for humans. Leon’s interest lit a spark, and Lawin was a key partner in bringing the project to life. Together, the two began to visit villages in the area, asking around for the best routes between various points as they began to connect paths, passes and herder’s trails from the west of the Kurdistan Region to the east. Some were well-trodden in places, in others entirely re-discovered.
For Leon, 35, who lives in Erbil, the motivation behind the trail was seeing the impact of others up close in Jordan, Palestine, and Sinai, and his experience of observing a friend create the Armenian section of the Transcaucasian Trail. “I could see that it’s much, much more than simply a space for people to walk,” he explains. “It offers an incredible opportunity for economic growth, particularly in rural areas… it empowers local communities, it creates a sense of civic pride, it also encourages this corridor of environmental and heritage protection along the path of the trai.” Lawin, whose love of the mountains runs deep, tells me that getting involved in the creation of the trail - and, above all, engaging with local communities along its route - has been an incredible experience. “It started with an idea and now it’s a top media story,” he tells me as we set off. “The mountains should be for hiking, not hiding,” he smiles, lightly referencing the old Kurdish proverb.
The initial scouting process took two years, and Lawin describes 2019 as the turning point, when Ben became involved, bringing with him a wealth of experience. It was then that API began to provide the project with funding, although for all their support and guidance, the trail will be run by a local team. The outbreak of Covid-19 stalled the physical scouting process for a year, but it resumed with fresh energy at the start of 2021. Designed for the public good, and to be accessible for anybody with what the team term a healthy level of fitness, the trail is not owned by anyone.
Its positive impact on local communities and tourism is clear, with multiple people stressing the effort and trust that individuals along the way have put into the project, and the hope they have that it may - in the not too distant future - offer financial opportunities. One only needs to look at how organically it has grown, the space it provides for internationals and locals to come together in “a very simple, peaceful” manner of walking together, as Leon puts it. “There are so many layers of benefits beyond putting one foot in front of another.”
The team hope to see locals embrace the route: Kurds, Arabs, and expats alike, particularly among increasingly popular outdoor organisations. There are around 88 hiking groups in the Kurdistan Region, each with at least 25 members, and a dream situation would see regular weekend, three-day, and full-stage hikes, organised alongside the trail’s guides. Kurdish tour-guide Muhammed Alqaderi (known to his Instagram followers as Wild Mann) also joined the final day of the thru-hike. He left his previous job during the pandemic, and says it was ultimately “the best thing that ever happened to him,” as it forced him to make the leap to running successful outdoor trips full-time, guiding both visitors to the Region and its long-time residents.
Foreign tourists have been encouraged to visit the area in large part due to the remarkable efforts of Omer Chomani, 32, the founder of VIKurdistan and one of the most successful tour operators in the area, I am told by many as we traipse up the final day’s steep incline, guided by Omer himself. Just a teenager at the time, he began promoting tourism in the Region in 2005, helping the first few international travellers to Choman in the post-Saddam era. When internet came to Iraq, Omer harnessed the influence of the online world to garner attraction to his homeland, supported by the Kurdistan Regional Government (KRG)’s tourism office. Having walked parts of the Jordan Trail in 2019, he returned to the foot of Halgurd inspired to formally register his idea, Visit Iraqi Kurdistan, in 2020. Now, his team lead groups as far south as Baghdad and Basra, and his Choman guest house - the final stay of the thru-hike - commands stunning views, and regular guests.
The success of the trail would see this model spread. “I’ve seen elsewhere how it dramatically changes people’s lives… we’ve seen on the trail ourselves how even at this very beginning point, the money that has come in from the scouting early processes has made an impact on some of our stake-holders, and that will only increase,” Leon explains. Lawin, although he is too humble to admit it, is chiefly responsible for creating the vital trust between locals and hikers. His work to establish relationships with dozens of communities along the trail, connecting and collaborating with home-stay families, and initiating links with local walking clubs, is a major reason for the ease with which people have offered up their homes for the team, and for future hikers.
Our local guide, Ahmed Rezani, and @LaweenMhamad, on Day 12 of the thru-hike. This was one of the first stages of the trail to take shape, and Ahmed has been one of the guiding forces of the project. So much of the trail is thanks to the hard work of these two 🙏 pic.twitter.com/K9sX6OFL6k
— Zagros Trail (@ZagrosTrail) May 12, 2022
“After four to five years, people are involved, invested, and following up on the trail,” Lawin adds proudly, a passionate advocate of the trail’s benefits for local communities, and their collaborative role in the process. Ben agrees, describing the real magic of the trail as connecting and walking with people along the way, and bringing alive the relationship between the land and communities. “The trail needs to live beyond human-time politics,” he says, “and if it takes decades, that’s okay.”
Undeniably ambitious, there is a precedent in the ZMT in the efforts of the Halgurd National Park project, an initiative - supported by National Geographic funding, and tacit KRG-backing - which stalled with the death of the mayor of Choman, Abdulwahid Gwani, in June 2017. “You can wrap your head around the concept,” Ben continues, adding that it could also be a stepping stone to raising awareness of broader climate issues, and an investment in the Region’s nature reserves, quite aside from its obvious benefits of bringing people together in meaningful, mindful interactions. David makes the point that the trail will help raise awareness of the worsening impact of climate change in the Region, as well as showcasing the beauty of the landscape.
Thru-hike reflections
At 3,607 metres, Mount Halgurd stands as the highest mountain in the Region - from the snow-capped peak of which you can see Turkey, Iran, and Iraq. It is a symbolic end point for the destination of a mammoth five-year project. “I’m a little sad now we’ve finished, I suppose,” Lawin says, as we lie on the ground. “But I’m excited and proud of what we did.” Fourteen days ago, he reflects, this was a dream and a challenge. “It’s not easy to hike 14 days in a row, mentally.”
Potential security issues were a concern, although Leon notes the great lengths taken to map the trail in the safest way possible, sacrificing “amazing paths and routes,” in order to keep walkers far away from minefields. The ZMT borders areas targeted by Turkish drones attempting to root out members of the Kurdistan Workers’ Party (PKK) in the west, and others covered by explosive remnants of the Iran-Iraq war to the east. There are around 3,000 minefields in the Kurdistan Region, and around 2,700 people have been killed by landmines and 10,800 others wounded or maimed since the 1990s, according to the KRGs Mine Action Agency. Our hike up to Mount Halgurd was scattered with distant land-mine signs and, while it was the closest the trail came to minefields in the fourteen days, it demonstrated the importance of a well-seasoned guide. Should the thru-hike have encountered any problems, Lawin continues, there were concerns that the process would be thrown several stages back. As it happened, the group encountered few challenges. “There were no struggles,” Lawin beams. “The 14 days, the guest houses, they were absolutely perfect."
“Everything went exactly as we planned… 95 percent of the timings were as planned,” he adds, in the same breath calling Leon a brother, and Emily an inspiration. “People began to become aware of the Zagros trail through Emily’s lens,” he notes, heaping warm praise on David and Ben, too. ‘We have the best trail-makers and photographers.’ Emily, who is based in Erbil, has been documenting the project for years, having become deeply involved in the ZMT in 2019, and creating a unique body of work of the process. Stella and Meena became part of the team more recently, last year. Stella, originally from Shaqlawa, joined Emily to document stories of the communities across the trail. “I learned a lot about my own country on this trail,” she told me. “I also learned about the different communities and challenges inhabitants face in remote villages.” The ZMT has taught avid hiker Meena, from Rawanduz, many practical lessons, and she hopes to be part of the local team continuing to work on the path.
Reflecting from Erbil a few days after the completion of the thru-hike, Leon is also delighted with the results. “For us as the trail team the primary purpose was technical - to assess the project, and to see whether it was feasible or not,” he explained. “At the heart of all of that is a very simple question of is this feasible? Does it work? To be able to walk it from one end to the other proves that yes it does, and those years of work haven’t been in vain.” The elements he most enjoyed were bringing together the local team - Lawin, Stella, and Meena - with international trail development experts like David and Ben. “To see that team come together and bond was a really special experience for me… they are the people to bring it through to success.” An additional reflection was the deepening of the relationships between the team and the guides along the way, some of whom the pair have worked with since 2016, others since 2019, 2020 latest. “We noticed that as we walked there were some new babies on the trail, families are changing, people’s lives are continuing, and we are in a small way part of that.”
Future steps for the ZMT
“Nobody is making money off of this,” Ben told me, as we rested from the final day of the thru-hike in the grounds of Chomani’s mountain lodge. Yet, while the vast majority of work on the trail has been volunteer driven, the local guides and hosts - who provided dinner, breakfast, and lodgings for the hikers - charged a fair rate for their work. In such a culture of hospitality, the team admits it took a while to encourage people to accept payment for their services. Now, with homestays set up along the route - peppered with the odd hotel - there is a system in place for locals and hikers alike. “It makes me happy to see these communities feeling proud to guide and host hikers from all over the world and introduce them to their culture and folklore,” Stella says.
Leon is keenly aware of the incredible amount of work already invested in the trail and the next step, he says, is to establish a local organisation “who will maintain and grow this trail moving forwards, and they’ll have support from various strategic partners.” While he will support them, now marks a point in which he wants to start handing the project over to local team members. “The trail shouldn’t be owned by anyone, but it should be managed and maintained locally,” he stressed, praising the wonderful local people involved, especially Lawin.
The team plan to set up the NGO in less than a year, managed by local staff, representing the trail among the community, organising the guides, homestays and hiking trips, as well as promoting it internationally, and working alongside local officials. They need to resolve the final few uncertainties about small sections of the route, and begin to train more guides and develop resources in order for people to start walking on the trail en masse. The role of API, as Ben explains, is to support this development in a stakeholder role, through financial support and advice. In a dream world, he says, the project could do with around two million dollars over the next five years; the local NGO, led by Lawin, will need funding to flourish.
There is no reason, particularly with the right model, Lawin muses, that a small team could not expand to multiple staff members, working on the trail and developing engagement in the project, and they are in talks with the Kurdistan Region Prime Ministers’ Office - who are supportive of the initiative, multiple people tell me on the hike. The need to protect the relationships of guides and homestays on the ground is a priority, but while the team do not want to depend solely on international funding, nor be beholden to specific donors, the public sector must surely see the value in funding the trail. A number of local organisations have already expressed an appetite, Lawin tells me. In addition, the trail wasn’t named until six months ago, with a title left open just enough to potentially move south, and there are speculative hopes that, in the distant future, the route may even link down through Sulaimani, through federal Iraq, to Basra, presenting further opportunities.
As Lawin takes steps to register the NGO with the government, a summer of work looms: seeking funding, attracting media, and gaining local and international recognition. The team are beginning to thrash out the new governance structure with walking guides, homestays, tour companies and local walking groups mapped as stakeholders in the project. For those asking how to get involved in the trail, aside from sourcing a sustainable funding model for the path, the more interest in the route, the better. “If people use these things, they work,” I am repeatedly told. The trail will succeed when it attracts regular walkers and, as Leon puts it, “in the near future, getting boots on the path is the biggest priority.” In the short term, David plans to return to the Region again, and Emily will continue to document the trail.
In the Autumn, as the weather cools, the team - led by Lawin - hope to set up weekly walks to introduce seasoned hikers to the trail, segment by segment. Guides are crucial along the as-yet unmarked trail, but a provisional plan is to release the GPX points to outdoor clubs in the Region, involving them in the next stage of the process. While it is not yet possible for intrepid, free-spirited walkers to set off on the ZMT, when the time comes, they are in for the most incredible treat.
The next great hiking trail
Presenting a bold opportunity for the country and communities alike, the impact of the ZMT on the local economy, health, cultural heritage preservation, and encouraging people to feel proud of their area and appreciate the beauty of their land is clear. For Stella, who spends much of her time in conflict and post-conflict areas, or with refugees and IDPs at camps, the ZMT has been a new and healthy coping mechanism. Others tell me of the freedom they feel, and the sense of disconnect from the often heavy day-to-day life in the Kurdistan Region.
In a broader sense, the trail is also a stunning way to see the country - one where effort equals reward, and sights, smells, and conversations are heightened. I was struck by the similarities between the ZMT and walking the trails of the Spanish Camino de Santiago and the Alp’s Tour du Mont Blanc, and imagine the team will face few hurdles attracting hikers to the route. “My hope for the future is that this can be a world-class trail that is spoken about in the same breath as the other great trails of the world - the Appalachian Trail, the Camino de Santiago and, regionally, the Jordan Trail,” Leon agrees. “I want people to see the Zagros Mountain Trail in the Kurdistan Region of Iraq as being on a par with some of those, and I think it has all the potential to do it.”
The Kurdistan Region has become home to Lawin, and to Leon. “It’s an incredible place, with a really unique mixture of history, culture, faith and beautiful landscapes,” he says. “All of those layers make up something that deserves to be seen, and deserves to have people come and visit, and deserves peace and prosperity.” Together, they have laid a solid ground for a hiking trail that lasts. As Leon puts it, “something that people here can be proud of, something that the rest of the world is excited about, and something that makes a difference in the lives of all of those who use it - whether they live on it, or whether they come to visit it.” Now the task begins to get it there.
