Why I Put Off Visiting Sodom Salt Cave for Years

I had put off the Salt Cave of Sodom trip for years, ever since I first read about it on caving websites. It was always high on my list, but Israel—just as it was during my first visit twenty years ago—had become a place of constant tension. For the last two years, it had been at war both within its borders and with several of its neighbors.

Everything changed on October 7th, 2023, when Hamas, the militant organization governing Gaza, launched a brutal surprise attack into Israel using hang gliders and ground incursions. More than a thousand civilians were killed, and dozens were taken hostage. Israel retaliated with overwhelming force, flattening large parts of Gaza. After two years of fighting, all the surviving hostages had been returned—along with the remains of others—and tragically, nearly 60,000 Palestinian civilians had been killed in Gaza according to many international reports.

But the conflict didn’t stay confined to Gaza.

While battling Hamas in the south, Israel was also engaged on multiple fronts:

• Hezbollah in Lebanon

• Houthi forces in Yemen

• And Iran, which launched its own missile and drone strikes

Rockets and missiles rained down on Israeli cities from multiple directions. For a long time, the idea of planning a caving trip there—especially one that involved plunging 200 feet into the earth—felt impossible.

Then, finally, a cease-fire took hold. The fighting in Gaza subsided. The tensions with Israel’s neighbors cooled, at least temporarily. Travel advisories softened. And I knew the window had opened.

With the region quiet—at least by Middle Eastern standards—I decided it was time.

I traveled first to the Palestinian Territories of the West Bank to explore more deeply than I had during my brief visit two decades earlier. But my main motivation, the centerpiece of the entire trip, was to finally explore the Sodom Salt Cave and rappel 200 feet into its shimmering salt chambers alongside a group of my friends.

Ein Bokek

A Salty Evening on the Shores of the Dead Sea

The air in Ein Bokek was thick with the musty smell of salt. The town itself sprawled with resort hotels, parking lots, and a strip mall—functional, but not exactly inspiring. Compared to the wilder, untouched northern shores of the Dead Sea, this area felt more industrial. Large sections of shoreline had been portioned off for mineral extraction, and the natural landscapes gave way to manicured hotel beaches designed for tourists.

Still, our hotel’s beach was clean and convenient, so my friends and I decided to go for a dip. They were all new to the Dead Sea experience, but I had floated in it before during a previous visit to Jordan. I warned everyone repeatedly: “Do NOT get the water in your eyes.”

The salinity here is nearly 30%, one of the highest in the world, and the water can burn like acid if it touches sensitive skin. But it’s also the reason why drowning is nearly impossible—once you lean back, the density lifts you effortlessly, leaving you floating like a cork on the surface.

We waded in and leaned back into the thick, oily-feeling water, laughing as our feet popped upward from the buoyancy. It was surreal, relaxing, and strangely fun—until Jimmy broke the number-one rule.

Somehow, despite all the warnings, he managed to splash Dead Sea water straight into his eyes. The reaction was instant. He shrieked, stumbled, and clawed his way toward the shore, temporarily blinded by the burning salt. We guided him to the nearest freshwater shower where he flushed his eyes out for several minutes.

He returned with bloodshot eyes that made him look like he’d just smoked something illegal, and for the next few hours he blinked dramatically and muttered about the “salt from hell.”

Despite the mishap, floating in the Dead Sea was a memorable way to end the evening before our big adventure the next morning—descending into the depths of the Sodom Salt Cave.

Mount Sodom

Exploring the World’s Largest Salt Cave

On our last full day in Israel, it was finally time to explore the world’s largest salt cave, hidden deep inside Mount Sodom. I had arranged a local Israeli caving guide along with a taxi driver who dropped us off at the remote trailhead. There, waiting for us in the quiet morning sun, was our guide—helmet, harnesses, and ropes laid out and ready for the 200-foot descent into the mountain.

Meeting Our Guide

A Gentle-Tempered Israeli Caver with a Glock on His Hip

Our Israeli guide was nothing like the tough, stoic, ex–special forces IDF veteran I expected. Instead, he was a young, smiley, gentle-spirited guy with a calm nature and a soft voice. He had served two years in the army instead of the usual three because he attended a religious school.

He carried a Glock on his hip “for security,” he said simply. I assumed this was because he lived in an Israeli settlement in the West Bank—areas often marked by tension and the occasional clash between Israelis and Palestinians. Despite my complicated feelings about settlements after hearing Palestinian grievances firsthand, it was impossible not to feel genuine fondness for him. He was kind-hearted, knowledgeable, and passionate about the desert landscape he grew up in.

We were the only people on the entire mountain—reinforcing that this was not a cave explored by many tourists. The silence of the desert, the gleaming white salt cliffs, and the distant shimmer of the Dead Sea made the setting feel surreal.

Lot’s Wife and the Pillar of Salt

Where Myth and Geology Intertwine

Before we reached the rappel point, our guide led us to a towering salt pillar standing dramatically on the ridgeline. With a grin, he explained that locals refer to it as Lot’s Wife—the biblical woman who disobeyed the angels by turning back to look at the destruction of Sodom, and who was, according to Scripture, turned into a pillar of salt.

The story of Sodom and Gomorrah from the Book of Genesis is one of the most dramatic narratives in the Bible. Many Israelis and biblical scholars believe that the ruins of Sodom lie somewhere beneath or near this very mountain of salt.

The Biblical Tale of Sodom

Wickedness, Hospitality, and the City’s Destruction

In the biblical account, Sodom was a prosperous but deeply immoral city—one that abandoned justice, mistreated foreigners, indulged in violence, and neglected the poor. In ancient Middle Eastern culture, hospitality was sacred; violating it was considered a grave sin.

Abraham, Lot’s uncle, pleaded for Sodom’s survival when God revealed its impending destruction. God sent two angels disguised as travelers to visit Lot. Lot welcomed them warmly and protected them—demonstrating the very hospitality the city lacked.

But news of the strangers spread quickly. According to the tale, the men of the city gathered at Lot’s home, demanding to commit violent acts against the visitors. That moment sealed the city’s fate.

The angels warned Lot to flee with his family—and not to look back. As they ran, Lot’s wife turned toward the destruction behind them and was transformed into the pillar of salt we stood beside.

Standing there under the desert sun, hearing the ancient story while overlooking the Dead Sea, it was easy to understand why so many believe this landscape holds echoes of the biblical tale.

Approaching the Cave Entrance

A Craggy Ridgeline and a 200-Foot Drop Into Darkness

From the pillar of salt, we continued our ascent toward the highest point of Mount Sodom. The climb was steep and exposed, and the trail narrowed into a sharp, jagged ridgeline of white salt and crumbling rock. The Dead Sea shimmered far below us, but ahead lay something far more intimidating.

Near the center of the mountain, our guide stopped at what looked like a jagged tear in the earth—a vertical shaft plunging straight down into darkness. This was the entrance to the world’s largest salt cave: a sheer 200-foot hole dropping into the heart of the mountain.

There was no marked trail, no signs, no fences. Just the four of us standing on the edge of a pit that seemed to swallow sound.

Our guide dropped his pack, calmly pulled out coils of rope, and began anchoring them to a series of drilled bolts along the rim. He worked methodically, checking each knot twice. This was where we would begin our descent—one by one—into the underground labyrinth.

Preparing for the Descent

Lowered Into the Mountain, One at a Time

Once the rope was secured, he clipped our harnesses in, checked our helmets, and walked us through the rappel system. But instead of rappelling ourselves, he would lower us down from above, controlling our speed as we sank slowly into the mountain.

One by one, we backed up to the edge and leaned into the void. The first few seconds were terrifying—you feel your weight shift and the world drop away beneath your feet. Then, with a gentle tug of the rope, you begin gliding downward into the cool, echoing darkness of the cave.

The walls around us were made entirely of salt—white, pink, and glittering crystals forming surreal patterns as our headlamps illuminated the descent. It felt like entering another planet.

Into the Depths of Mount Sodom

A One-to-Two-Hour Journey Under the Earth

At the bottom, we regrouped inside a massive salt chamber. The air was cool and silent. From there, the only way out was forward—we would spend the next one to two hours crawling through narrow passages, climbing over salt boulders, squeezing through tight tunnels, and walking through winding corridors deep inside the mountain.

Our guide told us that once we entered, we wouldn’t see daylight again until we reached the far exit on the opposite side of Sodom Mountain. We clicked on our headlamps, tightened our packs, and followed him into the glittering underworld carved over millennia by nothing more than water, time, and salt.

Inside the Salt Mountain

Coffee, Cookies, and a Maze of Flash-Flood Caves

One by one, we reached the bottom of the exhilarating 200-foot descent. Even though the drop looked impossibly deep from above, the entire ride into the mountain took only about thirty seconds. The moment my feet touched the floor of the chamber, the adrenaline was still buzzing in my chest.

At the bottom, our guide surprised us with a small break—Israeli coffee and cookies—before we began our underground journey. It was a strangely cozy moment to be sipping hot coffee inside the middle of a salt mountain, with nothing but silence and shimmering walls around us.

Then, the real caving began.

These caves were carved entirely by flash floods over thousands of years. Water rushing in from desert rains dissolves the salt and cuts deep tunnels that twist and stack in multiple layers, creating a labyrinth where no two passages are alike.

Some tunnels were tight, low, and claustrophobic—barely large enough to squeeze through on hands and knees. At times we had to crawl on our bellies beneath shallow overhangs, inching forward with elbows and toes. Then suddenly the cave would expand into larger chambers where we could stand upright, walk freely, or scramble across higher ledges to avoid the narrowest sections.

In certain passages, our guide gave us the option of choosing our route:

• the lower tunnels, which meant belly-crawling through tight salt wormholes, or

• the upper shelves, where we could climb up and navigate wider walkable paths.

We mixed both approaches, sometimes squeezing through child-sized openings just for the thrill, other times hopping from ledge to ledge across open chambers of glittering white salt.

Inside that mountain, every turn felt like stepping into a new world—silent, surreal, and unlike any cave system I had seen anywhere in the world.

Life in the Darkness

Bats Seeking Sanctuary

There was very little life inside the cave. The environment was too dry, too salty, and too dark for most creatures to survive. The only living things we encountered were a few small bats that flitted quietly along the ceiling, their wings brushing the still air.

Our guide explained that they likely flew inside to escape the brutal desert sun, using the cool darkness of the cave as a sanctuary during the day. Seeing them circle silently above our headlamps added an eerie, almost haunting touch to the otherwise lifeless world of salt and stone.

Tight Squeezes

Claustrophobic Moments in the Salt Tunnels

Some of the tunnels were definitely tight squeezes, the kind that force you to exhale just to slip your chest through. At times, the walls seemed to close in from every direction, leaving you belly-crawling or shimmying sideways with your helmet scraping the ceiling. Even for someone who enjoys caving, a few of these passages felt claustrophobic—just enough to get your heart pumping and remind you how deep inside the mountain you really were.

Salt Stalactites and a Moment of Reflection

A Different Kind of Beauty Beneath the Earth

But the best part of the salt cave—besides the exhilarating 200-foot descent—were the salt stalactite formations unlike anything I had ever seen before. Unlike the calcium-carbonate formations in limestone caves that take hundreds or even thousands of years to grow, the formations in a salt cave develop astonishingly fast—sometimes in just a few years. Their shapes were delicate, shimmering, and almost otherworldly, like frozen chandeliers made of crystalized light.

At one point, deep inside a long passage, our guide asked us to stop. He lit a few candles and placed them gently on the salt floor. The flickering light illuminated the walls around us, turning the entire chamber into a glowing sanctuary.

There, in the quiet of the cave, he shared a few short stories and parables—each of them touching on the meaning of “home,” identity, and belonging. Even though he didn’t say it directly, I interpreted the message as his way of explaining the importance of Israel to the Jewish people. The moment felt intimate, thoughtful, and sincere.

Then he invited us to take turns sharing blessings and kind words for one another—simple compliments or things we appreciated about the group. I found the gesture incredibly admirable and a testament to just how good-natured our guide was. It was a warm, human moment in the cold darkness beneath the earth.

Afterward, we sat together in complete silence. Our guide blew out the candles, leaving us in absolute blackness—the kind where you can’t see your hand in front of your face. For a few minutes we just breathed, listening to the distant drip of water somewhere far off.

Then we switched our headlamps back on, the cave walls snapping back into view, and continued the journey toward the exit.

Back to the Sunlight

Emerging From the Mountain

Eventually, after more crawling, climbing, and winding through the final salt corridors, a thin beam of white light appeared ahead. We stepped out into the blinding desert sun, squinting as our eyes adjusted to the brightness after nearly two hours underground.

From there, we hiked back down the mountainside to meet our taxi, then returned to our hotel in Ein Bokek to rinse the salt off in the pool. As the sun began to set over the Dead Sea, we packed up and drove north to Tel Aviv, where we checked into a beachside hotel for our final night in Israel.

It had been an unforgettable day—one of the most unique cave experiences of my life, blending geology, adventure, history, and unexpected moments of connection beneath the surface of an ancient mountain.

Final Night in Tel Aviv
A Quiet Evening Above the Mediterranean

We spent our last night in Israel at the Hotel David on the beach in Tel Aviv. My room overlooked the coastline, and as the sun set, the entire Mediterranean glowed in shifting shades of gold and deep blue. I sat in a chair by the window on the 40th floor, sipping a small courtesy bottle of red wine that came with Israeli chocolates, watching the waves roll softly onto the shore.

Tel Aviv looked peaceful—almost dreamlike. It was hard to imagine that earlier in the year, missiles from Iran had rained down on this very city. Even though most were intercepted by Israel’s missile defense system, a few managed to slip through and strike buildings. Missiles launched by the Houthis in Yemen had also reached the country, detonating near the airport.

Coming to Israel, I understood that conflict is always close at hand here. And yet, people somehow return to their lives with remarkable resilience. Sitting there above the quiet city, it struck me how accustomed Israelis have become to living with both beauty and danger intertwined.

The hotel was the perfect place to unwind after days of nonstop adventure—just me, the hum of the city far below, and the sweeping beach stretching endlessly in both directions.

A Smooth Departure
No Interrogations—A Rare Blessing

The next morning, we headed to Ben Gurion Airport for our flight home. To my surprise, the entire departure process was quick and painless. Friends had warned me that exiting Israel can sometimes involve intense questioning, especially if your passport shows stamps from countries that Israel considers sensitive. Mine certainly did, and I braced myself for at least a few rounds of interrogation.

But nothing happened. No delays, no interviews, no extra scrutiny—just a smooth pass through security and straight to the gate.

It was an unexpectedly calm ending to a journey filled with intensity, beauty, history, and some of the most thought-provoking encounters I’ve ever had.