← Dead Sea

Mount Sodom

"A mountain you can lick, which I did, out of curiosity, and instantly regretted."

An entire mountain made of solid rock salt, riddled with caves and crowned by a pillar locals still call Lot's Wife.

Mount Sodom runs for about eleven kilometers along the southwestern edge of the Dead Sea, and the thing that takes a minute to actually register is that it isn’t a mountain with salt deposits — it’s a mountain almost entirely made of salt, an exposed diapir pushed up from an ancient buried salt layer over hundreds of thousands of years. I hiked a section of it in the late afternoon, and the ground crunched underfoot in a way that no other desert hike has ever sounded, salt crystals catching the low sun and throwing off small flashes of light like the whole ridge was faintly sequined. Rain, rare as it is here, has carved the mountain into a landscape of sinkholes, caves, and narrow slot canyons — geologically active in a way that feels almost unsettling, since a cave floor that’s solid one year can collapse into a new sinkhole the next.

The salt-crystal-flecked surface of Mount Sodom catching low sunlight, cracked and ridged like frozen waves

The famous landmark here is a solitary salt pillar near the mountain’s base that Jewish, Christian, and Muslim tradition alike have long identified as Lot’s wife, turned to salt for looking back at the destruction of Sodom. It’s a modest thing, honestly, a few meters tall, slowly eroding and reshaping year by year as wind and the rare flash flood work on it, and there’s something quietly moving about the fact that people have been pointing at this exact pillar and telling this exact story for something like two thousand years. I stood next to it for a while, in the enormous quiet of the salt flats, and understood the appeal of turning a strange rock formation into a permanent warning.

The solitary salt pillar known as Lot's Wife standing at the base of Mount Sodom, weathered into an irregular column shape

The caves cutting into the mountain, including the long Malham Cave nearby, are among the longest salt caves on Earth, and even a short unguided scramble into one of the smaller entrances gave me a sense of just how strange this geology is — walls you can carve with a fingernail, the faint mineral smell, total darkness a few meters in.

When to go: October through April; midday summer heat on the exposed salt surface is dangerous. Bring sturdy shoes — the salt crust is sharp enough to cut through thin soles.