Two thousand years ago, riders of ancient Biblical lands were an adventurous lot. Virtually anyone who owned a horse, donkey or camel could get to the local market for groceries, or to a neighbouring country to check out the action. Deprived of trail guides, travel packages and CNN, riders relied on gut instinct, desert savvy and some sharp map reading of the night sky to put them in the middle of headline news.

It wasn't hard. Well-worn trails crisscrossed the deserts and river valleys in all directions. The freeway of the day was the Midian Highway and it was the route of choice by Melchior, Balthasar and Kaspar. These well-heeled men rode atop three pretty eye-catching camels. They had left Babylon on a mission for King Herod who was no slouch when it came to picking his spies to check out gossip. The buzzword on the street was of prophecy and a birth in Judaea of a Messiah born under the sign of the Jews. He had reason to worry.

Melchior, Balthasar and Kaspar weren't your ordinary Bedouins either. History hails them from Arabia, Ethiopia and Tarsus respectively. Back then, astrology was pretty hot and anyone good at math who could calculate celestial positions was assured of a job. Astrologers were called ‘mathematici' and held in high regard (‘Magi') because of their powers to not only predict the mysterious motions of planets but also apply Hellenistic rules of the horoscope that would produce a prediction of an entire course of events.

Thus, as the three talented riders set out, they took with them sacred, ancient knowledge that in no small way would play into a dramatic global event.

Of course, they had no idea of the magnitude of their trip when they saddled up and left Babylon. They headed for Judaea and the sky map would be their guide. It's likely they studied the zodiac sign of Aries the Ram, the sign of the Jews. Narrowing the odds, they may have focused on the planet Jupiter, the regal star that granted kingship and which was even more powerful when in conjunction with the moon.

Ahead of them lay over one thousand kilometers of desert travel between Babylon in modern-day Iraq and Bethlehem in the Kingdom of Judaea, now Israel. They chose their mounts, dromedary camels, wisely. Normally docile with some well-spiced temper tantrum swings for good measure, the camel could outpace any four-footed form of transportation. It's broad feet could easily negotiate the desert floor, gourmet meals of thorny plants (sans water) provided sustained energy and its ability to amble down a hot desert road all day at four km/hour would allow the riders to put away one thousand kilometers in a month, no sweat. Literally.

The Magi's journey to Judaea was less than direct. The Midian was not exactly your Trans Canada Highway and their ride would first take them northwest to Damascus. So how come, you ask, were they following a star in the east? The answer to that lay in the geography of the ancient world. Once near Damascus, the riders cut south to the eastern shore of Lake Galilee and continued west across the River Jordan to the ancient town of Megiddo, the gateway to the southern rugged hills of Samaria. The Midian route avoided those hills by passing to their west and continuing southward. Travelers to Jerusalem and Bethlehem left the highway at Lydda and traveled southeast up the rugged incline to the Judean plateau on which both cities rested. On the last leg of their journey, the riders traveled in an easterly direction. They would therefore have been in a perfect position to see Jupiter emerge in the dawn sky ("in the east") when it was exactly twelve degrees from the Sun. It was no small significance to the riders that Jupiter was eclipsed twice by the Moon in Aries, adding huge celestial significance to events on Earth in accordance with ancient astrology.

The Magi's camel-riding days were far from over. They never did tell Herod of Jesus' location but returned to their homeland, gave their wealth to the poor and devoted their lives to spreading peace. Eventually, as Christians, they were persecuted for their faith and died as martyrs. But still their journey was not over. Three hundred years after their death, the bones of the Magi were placed in the mosque of St. Sophia in Constantinople. When the First Crusade almost destroyed them, they were moved to the Cathedral of Milan. On the move again, their bones were placed in the Cathedral of Cologne on the River Rhine, their skulls draped in velvet bedecked with jewels and embroidery where it is claimed that miracles are still attached to these ancient mysterious relics.

Today the glow of stars still beckons in a cold December sky. On the ground we mimic it with glittering Christmas lights. And perhaps we'll think of the Magi's journey not just as a camel ride, but as a crusade for peace.