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The Hawaiian Trail & Mountain Club Newsletter January - February - March 2000 |
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The Hawaiian Trail & Mountain Club Newsletter January - February - March 2000 |
TRAILS ACCESS Editor
For the information of HTMC members who may not have seen it, on December 1 the Sierra Club Hawaii Chapter ran a full-page ad in the Honolulu Advertiser demanding that the city administration take action to provide full public access to the Hawaii Loa Ridge Trail. The ad states in part, "For over 15 years the City and County of Honolulu has allowed the Hawaii Loa Owners Association to control access to the popular Hawaii Loa Ridge Trail and to exclude altogether out-of-state residents. State law (HRS s46-6.5) requires that public access to the mountains and to the shoreline be specifically protected and preserved before any new subdivision can be approved."
Citing the US Constitution, which "guarantees that the citizens of one state shall not be denied the privileges and immunities of the citizens of other states," the ad goes on to announce that a lawsuit has now been filed to force the City and the Association to comply with the law.
This is an excellent opportunity for HTMC members to ring in with firm support for the Sierra Club position, and for unrestricted access to all public trails on Oahu and throughout the state. Write, email, or call Mayor Jeremy Harris (523-4141), your City Council representative, and the appropriate members of the State Legislature to express your concern.
Uncle Uluhe Wants YOU! Grant Oka
HTMC is looking for a few good hikers to take us into the next millennium!
After many years of sound financial oversight, Stuart Ball and Jason Sunada are ready to hand over the reins of the Investment Committee to another member. HTMC has prospered under their guidance and both Stuart and Jason have our gratitude and praise for a job well done. We are looking for a member with investment experience and a desire to serve HTMC.Dayle Turner has been responsible for managing our membership database for the past few years and is now ready to pass the baton to another member. Mahalo to Dayle for a job well done. We are looking for a member to chair the Membership Committee. He or she should have computer capability and Microsoft Access knowledge.
Coming up in April 2000, the HTMC Board of Directors will have 2 seats open for nominations. Please call Grant (674-1459) or any Board Member if you are interested and want to find out more about serving on the Board. Consider serving on the HTMC Board of Directors and guide the Club into the next millennium!
PROPOSED OAHU WILDLIFE REFUGE Grant Oka
As some of you know, I am working on comments to the US Fish and Wildlife Service regarding a proposed Oahu Forest National Wildlife Refuge. This refuge will encompass the Kipapa Trail, the Koolau Summit Trail from Kipapa to possibly Schofield Waikane, and probably the Schofield Waikane Trail itself. Conservation is the prime motivation, and to this end there are proposed restrictions on hiking and camping. Basically, it will be run similar to Nature Conservancy's Honouliuli Preserve, that is, permits, restrictions on the number of hikers, absolutely no camping, and the additional restriction of a required Service guide and possible closed portions of the trail due to conservation efforts.
HTMC's comments will try to convince the Service that hiking and conservation efforts are not incompatible nor mutually exclusive. Of course, the key difference here is that we are talking about hiking on existing trails. HTMC's position is that responsible hiking does not introduce nor contribute to the spread of alien species, nor does it contribute to the decline of native plants and wildlife. To beat up hikers for not picking seeds off their clothing or cleaning their boots, while arboretums, botanical gardens, garden shops, pet stores, and cattle ranchers are introducing new alien species is like preaching to the choir. Illegal importation (both unintentional and deliberate) is poorly monitored, with no substantial penalties for bringing alien plants and animals into Hawaii. To restrict trail access to hikers, while pigs run rampant is like, well you get my point.
There are a lot of problems, with no real easy answers. Most trails were initially built during a time when conservation efforts were not established. Do we really need new trails now, when conservation efforts are a matter of species survival and watershed survival? My personal opinion is that new trails will not exacerbate the problems faced by conservation efforts, however, my priortiy is to first convince the Service that access to existing trails will not exacerbate the problems faced by conservation efforts. Conservation is a convenient reason to restrict access to hikers. Hiker safety is another convenient reason to restrict access to hikers, but that's another subject that pushes my buttons and starts me spinning. Hikers are not part of the problem, however, we are the most visible and most easily regulated (pushed around).
Any comments or ideas about this will be greatly appreciated (email to me or OHE).
WAIANAE-KAALA HIKE Ralph Valentino
The day began with clear skies, calm seas and almost no wind. After introducing himself, master hike coordinator/club botanist/hero/all-around good guy Ken Suzuki then turned over the typical trail initiation speech duties to coordinator-in-training Ralph Valentino. A total of 42 people set out upon Mt. Kaala, including about a dozen first timers. Sweat escaped foreheads within the first 5 minutes of the hike, and only the cover of the canopy above the first leg of the hike kept everyone moving at their respective paces.
By the first turnoff on the trail, it was discovered that the few pink ribbons put up the previous weekend had already been removed all the way up to the power poles. Some of the blue-and-white ribbons were left untouched. Despite the lack of ribbons, only a small group went "exploring" for a 15 minute detour, regaining the proper trail after their meanderings had been satisfied. Although the climb to the power poles was exhausting for most, the respite there was short-lived, as the excitement of today's prospects of gaining Kaala on such a clear day drove them upward. The trail was completely dry, and well manicured by the Trail Clearing Crew.
At 'the rock', one by one the hikers climbed up and over, utilizing the newly improved steps without hesitation. Light cloud cover helped to offset the heat and steep climbs. Several small snails were spotted, many too young to have a shell. At the top of the climb, just prior to the sign and boardwalk, the temperature dove almost 10 degrees. While the walk through the bog was enlightening and exciting for the firsttimers, it was shocking to see how dry it was. No standing water was visible in the bog. At the end of the bog, one group approached the road and noticed a state truck pull up, parking on the left. Wanting to keep a low profile, the group averted their eyes looking down as they began to cross the road heading for the lunch spot. At this time, one of the state employees yelled out "Hey!" They were caught! But it turned out to be Reuben Mateo, who shared a laugh with the group as they headed for lunch.
We noted that the new fence being built, once in place, will require some extra clearing of about 30 feet of native plants, if the route is to continue around it to the lunch spot. It appears that it will be in place by the next time we hike this trail. The views were truly incredible at the lunch spot, with sunshine warming the group in the cooler temperatures. From this spot the entire Koolau range was visible, from North Shore beaches to Diamond Head, as well as all the fingers of Pearl Harbor. Hang gliders soared above the foothills from Pupukea to Helemano. Cloud cover then blocked the sun, forcing most to don jackets for the last half of lunch.
All but 4 of the hikers made it to the summit, the last trudging in by 1:10PM. Turn-around was set for 1:30PM. The hike down proved very dusty due to the dry conditions and heavy traffic. About 7 other hikers were met at various points along the trail throughout the day, some making it to the top. The trip down brought the sun back out, and all but the impatient speed hikers were treated to cold drinks and a sweet juicy watermelon at the water tank. The group departed the upper parking lot by 4:30PM, with happy memories of a delightful hike filled with spectacular views. All of the thank-yous offered by the hikers topped off yet another fine day of hiking.
CLUBHOUSE NEWS Alex Broadfoot
Clubhouse users: Please call for new lock combination.
The Clubhouse needs the following new or used donations:
1) weedwacker (electric line trimmer)
2) table saw - any condition
3) lawn mower
4) fans - all types
5) cordless phone
6) hammockPlease phone Alex, our property manager, at 945-3973 if you can help us with any of these items. Mahalo to Mark Short, Lynn Carey, Ralph Valentino, Bill Gorst, William Wiley, Steve Brown, Bob Hurlbut, and Marianne Luken for donations of much appreciated items.
NEW WEB SITE Stuart Ball
I just finished my new website: Stuart Ball - Hiking Guides for Hawaii. It features the cover picture and a sample hike from each guide. There are links to booksellers to purchase the guides online. For those who already have the guides, I have included access and route updates for each hike. The site address is: www.hgea.org/~lmasu.
My third book, The Hikers Guide to the Hawaiian Islands, comes out in January 2000. It describes 44 day hikes on the Big Island, Kauai, Maui, and Oahu. Also included are some great pictures from club members Lynne Masuyama, John Hoover, Marcia Stone, Debbie Uchida, and Al Miller.
KOOLAU SUMMIT BACKPACK TRIP Dayle TurnerIn July, I volunteered, along with Patrick Rorie, to coordinate the 1999 KST backpack trip. Joining us were be ten other club members who agreed to subject themselves to a three-day, two-night, mud-slogging adventure along the spine of the Ko'olau Range, starting at Pupukea and ending at California Avenue in Wahiawa.
As a sidenote, I must let everyone know Pat deserves credit for making the trip happen. By tradition, the club has conducted the KST backpack every five years. Since the last trip was in '94, to maintain tradition, an outing needed to be scheduled this year. However, no one stepped forward to make sure the trek was on the club schedule except Pat. And since we've been working together to conduct other hikes for the club, when he asked if I'd like to colead the trip, I readily agreed.
We had no problem reaching the stated max of ten hikers; in fact, Pat and I agreed to up the limit to 15. Those five extra spots were snagged quickly, with a couple folks on the wait list. With some last-minute bow-outs because of work commitments and the like, the final roster numbered twelve: Kay Lynch, Brandon Stone, Ken Suzuki, Carole K. Moon, June Miyasato, Thomas Yoza, Dusty Klein, Rob Geer, Mark Short, Steve Poor, Pat, and I. This was a group of strong, experienced hikers.
== Day 1, Friday, July 30==
The pre-and post-hike transport arrangements took some doing, but everything fell into place nicely with the help of my brother, Alika; my friend, Bill Melemai and his wife Donna; Kost Pankiwskyj; Mark Short's son, Ryan; and Steve Poor's wife, Esther. Much appreciation to all these folks.
After staging vehicles in Wahiawa-/Mililani, the soon-to-be dirty dozen assembled at the end of Pupukea Road by Camp Pupukea, a boy scout camp. Meeting time was 7:30 a.m. under partly-cloudy but clearing skies. Before we shoved off, Pat gave an interesting pre-trip briefing, explaining the tradition of the club's KST backpack and the rigors of the trek we'd be embarking on. Quoting Stuart Ball's backpacking book, Pat reminded us that this would be a challenge we'd long remember.
Preliminaries done, we headed off into the mountains, beginning with an initial three-mile trudge along a dirt road to the northern terminus of the KST. In my pack, I was lugging 5 liters of water (in a 100 oz. camelback and a 2.5 liter platypus bottle), a glo-orange zephr wind jacket, a Eureka Gossamer bivy tent (2.5 lbs), a ground sheet for my tent, a Z-rest sleeping pad, an esbit stove and half a dozen fuel tabs, a small pot for boiling water, a Safe-Water filter bottle, a small first-aid kit, one set of clothes for sleeping (polypropylene long johns and socks), and a mummy bag liner.
For food, I had two Alpine Air add-boiling-water meals (Mountain Chili and Forever Young Mac&Veggies). These would be my Friday and Saturday night dinners. For breakfast and lunch I'd dine on Power Harvest bars, Clif bars, a Boulder bar, and a tube of "glop," a homemade concoction of peanut butter and refried beans. Without the water, my pack and its content weighed under 20 lbs, a circumstance I'd planned for and was happy with. Mark and Brandon were also hiking with the light-weight philosophy in mind, and later in the narrative I'll make reference to some of things they used.
In my waistpack, I had a cell phone, a Talk-About walkie-talkie (to keep in contact with Pat), a topo map, a lighter, a small notepad and a pencil, a non-shatter signal mirror, a 20-foot coil of parachute cord, half a roll of marking ribbon, and a bottle of iodine tabs. Around my neck affixed to a lanyard were a compass, a Photon Microlight, and a whistle.
As for my hiking togs, I wore a pair of nylon mesh basketball shorts, North Face hiking pants, a red Cool-Max t-shirt, a camo boonie hat, orange/mesh diving gloves, Thorlo hiking socks, gaiters, and Nike Sharks football shoes. As muddy, wet, and smelly as these all became, I wore the same stuff all three days. Granted, the transition from sleep clothes to mud-caked hiking clothes on Saturday and Sunday mornings were tough, but after a few minutes on the trail, things reached equilibrium when I became one-with-the-mud once again. And the summit trail is all about mud.
When we reached the start of the KST on the Pupukea end, our melding with the ooze began. But we knew to expect as much and we plodded forward, commenting about the dedicated effort of Larry Oswald and his wife Kris, who made multiple trips into the mountains to open up the summit trail to the Malaekahana terminus, about four to five miles all told. The HTMC trail maintenance crew and an assortment of other volunteers chipped in, but it was Larry and Kris who never let the project die and committed themselves to seeing it to its resolution.
Significant landmarks on day one were the pu'u that marks the terminus of the Kahuku trail, a ribboned lunch-spot pu'u used by the HTMC trail maintenance crew during an outing, the junction with the Malaekahana trail, and the signed junction with the Laie trail. Views were open and panoramic much of the time. To leeward we looked across a jumbled mishmash of pu'us, small ridges, and ravines that composed the upper Waimea-Uka complex (my term). At a couple points we could hear small streams gurgling, good signs since we'd need to access a similar streamlet for water later. Beyond Waimea Uka, we could see Oahu's central plateau and beyond to the mostly cloudfree Waianae Range. To windward, we viewed the Kahuku/Laie/Hauula coast and a small collection of offshore islets.
By agreement, Pat manned the sweep position and I stayed near the front. As things developed, Mark, Rob, Steve, Dusty, and I assumed the front-runner positions of our group while the others moved along at a more relaxed pace to make note of flora along the trail or to stave off exhaustion from the effort needed to lug heavy packs over a rough, muddy trail. At the top of each hour, Pat and I radioed one another to note progress and disposition of the group. Dusty also had a walkie-talkie and he, too, joined the radio info exchange.
By mid-afternoon, the first of us reached our first night's campspot at the Kawailoa trail terminus, easily recognizable by a substantial flat-topped pu'u with the collapsed remnants of a wooden platform on its windward edge. Getting to the pu'u and the continuation of the KST involved crossing a marshy ravine. It was in this same ravine that we'd draw water from a boggy stream to replenish our supply. All of us, that is, except Rob, who carried all the water he'd need (9 liters) for all three days. Young and strong, Rob handled the load well.
One of my first priorities was to find a level, solid piece of ground to pitch my bivy before a rainshower swept by. None did, but I could never be sure and I hustled to put up my shelter to insure a dry, comfortable night. The spot I chose was on the lee edge of the helipad plateau about five feet from a cliff with a steep dropoff. And after fifteen minutes ofcareful manipulation, the Gossamer was up and secure. Several of us helped Dusty carry lumber from the collapsed platform to a spot a couple feet from mine. Dusty pitched his tent on the planks and offered a spot in it to Steve, who had a tent of his own but couldn't find an agreeable spot to place it.
Meanwhile, about 20 feet from us, Mark put up his tent, a Nomad Light (1.5 lbs.), the shelter of choice for ultralight backpackers. Ditto for Rob, who I think was using a Sierra Design Clip Flashlight (4 lbs). Others opting to set up on the wind-exposed helipad were Brandon and Thomas, who used tarps to construct shelters. Brandon, who shared his shelter with Kay, fashioned his from a lightweight siltarp (13 oz.), a single guava pole, a few stakes, and some cord. Thomas, using an 8x10 blue tarp ($3.99), one of his hiking poles, some bungee cord, stakes, and cord, ended up with a solid structure. Watching everyone set up camp was interesting and educational.
While ample room existed on the helipad, Ken, June, Carole, and Pat chose to pitch their tents at a more sheltered spot 70-80 meters away at the base of a small pu'u on the windward side of the marshy ravine. Ken (sharing with June) used a Sierra Designs Meteor Light (6 lbs.); Carole bedded down in a North Face Slickrock (4.5 lbs); and Pat set up a Slumberjack Bivy (2.5 lbs).
One surprise was the arrival of a hiker named Roger Breton. Hauling a pack estimated to be 80 lbs, Roger had started at Pupukea about half an hour after us with plans to back-pack all the way to Kipapa over the course of the next several days. Among the gear/supplies he lugged were 2.5 gallons of water (20 lbs!), food for five days, two stoves, and an array of other stuff he felt he needed to complete the traverse successfully. Since his pack was the size of a typical daypack, he had to strap plenty of gear outside of it, a no-no for the KST, whose vegetation has a way of snatching externally lashed items from tired hikers. To his credit, Roger was mule-like strong, genial, and open to suggestions. One recommendation from Pat was NOT to try to proceed to Kipapa because of the badly nature overgrown of the KST beyond Waikane and the Kipapa trail itself. Pat suggested Waikane as an exit route, and Roger agreed to that plan.
Shelter construction pau, next on the agenda was water resupply. Of the 5 liters I'd started the day with, I had consumed three. Taking into account what I'd need for dinner, for continuing hydration that night, and for the tough leg to Poamoho the next day, I figured I'd need about four liters from the boggy stream in the ravine. So from the helipad plateau, I descended a trail on its windward side to the ravine and slogged around until I found a decent drip in the muck. While I'm skeptical about drinking water from a fountain at a city park, when in survival mode, I do what needs doing, so out came my SafeWater filter to begin H20 acquisition.
In fifteen minutes, I had filtered the needed amount and added some iodine tabs to the mix for purification. After a 30-minute wait for the iodine to do its thing, I added some Crystal Light powder to a couple liters for some good-tasting juice. Granted, it wasn't a 7-11 Super Big Gulp (my favorite), but in this remote spot in the Koolaus, it was a close second. We later found out that Pat, Ken, and company found a better water source further up the ravine. This spot featured a tiny waterfall and a small, clear pool. Pat said an HTMC oldtimer had told Stuart Ball about this spot, and Stuart passed word to Pat. A good piece of info for future campers at Kawailoa.
With water secured, we shifted into dinner prep and consumption mode. Using my Esbit stove, my pack to block the wind, and a make-shift aluminum foil windscreen, I boiled 2.5 cups of water, needing about 12 minutes to get that done. I used the water for the Mac&Veggies meal, which proved to be palatable. For desert, I had a Power Harvest bar with some "glop" dabbed on for good measure. In addition, Dusty offered a bag of Doritos and some chocolate chip cookies, which several of us gobbled down without hesitation.
I ate on a wooden plank laid next to my bivy, the plank serving as a kind of front porch. Mark joined me in dinner prep on the porch, and as the afternoon transitioned to evening, we enjoyed a nice view of the distant Wahiawa plain, the Waianae Range beyond it, Haleiwa town, and further off to Mokuleia and Kaena Point. As night fell, we watched the lights of Haleiwa, Helemano, and Ka'ala flicker in the darkness. Looking the other way, we could see the twinkle of Laie town, including a curious florescent light that changed color periodically.
By 9:00, we all were in our tents, hoping to sleep as best as we could in preparation for the tough haul to Poamoho the next day. What would the weather and trail be like? We'd find out soon enough.
== Day 2, Saturday, July 31==
Saturday morning at the Kawailoa campsite translated into a 6 a.m. wake-up. I was pleased I'd had a decent night's rest since the coming day was to be no cupcake. One tip I've learned is to avoid the temptation to check the time in the middle of the night, for once I begin, what usually results is a repetitive cycle of watch-checking until the sun rises. That equates into morning grouchiness, not a good thing.
The helipad pu'u campers fared better than expected because the wind was gentle overnight. Rain fell in five-minute bursts twice during the night, but the clouds that bred them didn't linger and the brightening dawn showed signs the coming morning would be pleasant.
Wanting to keep things simple, I decided on non-cook breakfasts and lunches during the trip, and on this first morning I ate two Clif bars (carrot cake) with a couple of curls of glop spread atop them for added fuel. Not bad. I drank down the remaining liter of juice from my 2.5-liter platypus and a subsequent check revealed I had 2 liters for the day's trudge. "This will get me to the waterfall notch," I told Thomas, in reference to the H20 I lugged. "And if there's no water there, I'll gut it out to Poamoho."
Thomas reported he'd had no major problems in his tarp setup. There was some condensation but nothing to fret about. The others were up and about and no one complained about a bad night. Most folks ate some hot cereal or soup for breakfast, and at varying paces began the task of shelter disassembly and packing.
By 7 a.m. I was packed, dressed in my muddy togs from the day before, and ready to depart. Before shoving off, I slogged across the ravine to where Pat, Ken, Carole, and June were camped to check on how their night went. They reported no problems. "I *will* see you at Poamoho this afternoon," I said to Carole and June, who seemed nervous about the rugged day to come.
After confirming the radio contact times with Pat (our first check would be at 10), I set off southeast on the KST with Mark and Steve. Roger, perhaps anxious about making it to Poamoho, had left 30 minutes prior, and since he was lugging such a heavy, bulky load, I figured we'd catch up to him at some point. Our departure time from Kawailoa was 7:20, with the others leaving at varying intervals over the next hour.
With a light, nonbulky pack and hiking poles, Mark moved fairly fluidly along the rugged, muddy trail. Steve and I managed to keep pace, and once in a while we rotated into the ramrod slot to spell Mark. But as I pointed out to Steve, the trail was no different whether one was first, second, or tenth--the uluhe and clidemia were still intact and the trail was just as muddy. Admittedly, one advantage trailing hikers had was that they could step in the bootprints of someone ahead to minimize the amount of ooze dealt with.
For about an hour from Kawailoa, we spotted blue ribbons periodically affixed to trees at points along the summit trail. We saw many signs of pigs (tracks and rootings) but the only encounter with na pua'a occurred later in the day by Mark and Roger. The plant experts in the group (Ken, Kay, Brandon) later told me they'd spotted a myriad of interesting native flora. Kay even retrieved some stalks of a rare plant (the name I can't recall), probably broken off inadvertently by the pack of someone in the lead group, and said she'd give these to a friend for examination and possible grafting/germination.
For just about the entire duration of the summit trail from Kawailoa to Poamoho, there was little sense we were hiking on or near an actual crest of a ridge because the mountaintop was broad and rolling instead of narrow and precipitous ala the eastern Koolaus above Maunawili and Waimanalo. Care had to be taken in places, however, to avoid dropoffs into steep gulches. But the biggest danger of this segment of the summit trail is becoming disoriented and lost, a happening that likely was the undoing of Wade Johnson, the BYUH student who was never found in this general mountain vicinity, despite a massive search and rescue campaign.
But our Higher Power was compassionate on Saturday, for the morning became progressively clearer and sunny and we'd have no clouds to inundate the summit and cause us to stray. A highlight was emerging through a narrow notch in the ridge to an overlook of the spectacular upper environs of Kaipapau Gulch. It was then I sensed the true wildness and beauty of where we were. At the time, Mark and Steve were just ahead, and watching them hike along a section carved into the sheer side of the mountain created a surreal contrast in this remote, lonely venue.
Not long after that, at an ascending leeward section, we stopped for our first break at a boulder along-side the trail (we had passed the remains of the Kahuku Cabin 20-30 minutes prior). I felt fine, invigorated as a matter of fact, and a check indicated I'd have enough water to get to the next source. A pack of Power Gel provided fuel as did a couple of fig bars from Mark. And after ten minutes of rest, we were on the move again.
Within half an hour, we caught up with Roger, who reported he'd gone off course at least once (probably a pig trail). Eyeing the hiking poles, gloves, and cleated shoes Mark and I used, Roger observed, "You guys got your act together up here, huh?" "Let's say, we've logged some time up in the mountains," said I.
Gloveless, Roger's hands were being beaten up by the brush. Plus his heavy pack slowed him down. But the man is strong, no doubt. And despite the abuse he suffered and the debilitating load he lugged, he managed to stay with us for the rest of the day to Poamoho. Hats off to him.
At the 10 a.m. radio test, Pat, continuing in his classic sweep mode, reported the others were moving along steadily and everyone's spirits were fine. Earlier, I asked him to keep tabs on the progress of the group and to do all he could to make sure all reached Poamoho.
Around 11:15, Mark, Steve, Roger, and I reached the Castle Trail junction. Even though it was still early, we decided to eat lunch and rest there, thinking Poamoho was only two hours away (it was actually closer to three). Mark took off his shoes and socks to air out while the rest of us lounged about in the clearing at the junction, eating lunch, resting, and talking story as we did. A couple of power bars and some glop served as my midday meal, and I would have accepted some of Roger's dried ahi chunks if the stuff wasn't so salty and hence make me want to drink more water.
After lunch, I had less than a liter of water remaining, but I still felt fine and was hopeful I'd be able to obtain some at a forthcoming waterfall notch Stuart Ball mentioned as a potential H20 source. As it turned out, the water there, though available, was unappealing, so I just had to wait until reaching the reliable small pool next to the traditional tent campsite by the Poamoho Trail.
But that was still a ways away, and beyond the Castle Junction the mud became an increasing challenge to deal with. I suppose the mudholes might not have been any worse than the ones we'd traversed earlier, but given a long day of hiking and the resulting tiredness it brings, the mud seemed especially vile.
Landmarks from Castle to Poamoho included a fenced-off area (Kay called this an "exclosure") where some supposedly rare plants are situated (Brandon later told me he didn't spot any significant flora in the area); a large grassy bowl marked by a solar-paneled weather-gage; the waterfall notch I mentioned previously; another grassy bowl with metal grating on the ground; and the junction with the Peahinaia Trail (some white PVC pipes in the ground mark the initial segment of Peahinaia).
One prize of the day was the superb windward segment of the KST cut into the side of the mountain right before the Poamoho terminus. Gazing down into Kahana, I had to stop and marvel at the sight. Even though I've taken in the view before, this time seemed different, special. Glowing in the afternoon sun, all my familiar friends were there--Piei, Pu'u Koiele, Pu'u o Kila, Ohulehule, Manamana, Kanehoalani. Back in '94, I knew none of them, but I can now recognize each with ease, without question or hesitation and with a special fondness that is difficult to explain.
Mark and I arrived at Poamoho a little past three, with Roger not far behind. Steve had slowed down a bit but would make it okay around 4. Meanwhile, because of intervening hills and ridges, radio tests the past couple hours proved spotty. The last word I had, via a relayed message from Dusty, was that the group was beyond the Castle junction by 2:00. That was good news and if all went well would put the last folks in at Poamoho before 6:00.
Needing water, Mark and I headed quickly down the Poamoho Trail to get some from the stream by the campsite. A couple minutes later, good news--the water source was ample and clear. Over the course of the next hour, I filtered eight liters of water, drinking two after treating it with iodine and adding crystal light, and saving six more for dinner, for evening fluid consumption, and for the final hike leg the next day. Mark obtained the water he needed, using a combination of a 2.5 gallon water bag, a Gregory hydration system, iodine, and a Safe-Water inline filter. While we did this, Steve arrived at the stream, and he too filtered water for his needs.
Mark also cleaned up, walking several meters downstream of the waterhole, so as not to muddy the source the others would be using when they arrived. "Folks might be pretty moody when they roll in here (because of the hard day on the trail)," I reasoned, "and they'll be pissed off if they find out we took a bath in the waterhole."
Hydrated and with a good supply of water on hand, I returned to the summit around 4 p.m. to await the arrival of the others. In the interim, Mark and Steve hiked twenty minutes over to the Poamoho cabin where we'd spend the night. That is, unless someone else had snagged it first (no one was there and the cabin was ours to use).
What I didn't realize was that Roger, not knowing Mark and I had gone down to the stream, continued along the summit trail, past the Poamoho cabin, and on to who knows where. The next day, past the junction with Pauao Ridge (this is about 30 minutes beyond the cabin), we did see a spot on the trail with stamped down grass, and we surmised this was where Roger camped on Saturday night. I hope he made it to Waikane and back to civilization okay.
As I waited on the pu'u marking the end of the Poamoho trail, I put on my orange-glo zephur wind jacket to keep warm, since ka makani whips at the spot. Plus, I figured I'd be visible a good ways off for approaching members of the group. And one by one they rolled in: first Dusty and Rob, then Kay and Brandon, then Thomas, Ken, Carole, and June. Carole was especially jubilant about making it to Poamoho since difficult conditions kept her from completing the segment in a day back in 1994. And, of course, Pat, in the classic sweep mode since we left Kawailoa, rolled in last, his duty for the day finally done. At one point, I could see Pat perched on the spectacular final windward section of the KST before Poamoho, his arms outstretched toward Kahana. Seeing him like this, I smiled, picturing in my mind the many times I've seen him in this familiar pose over the years.
Although there was room in the cabin for the all twelve of us, Ken, Carole, June, Thomas, and Pat opted to tent-camp at the clearing by the stream. When I saw them the next morning, they reported a peaceful night. Meanwhile, seven of us shared the cabin. Mark, Rob, Kay, and Steve slept in the abode's four bunks while Brandon, Dusty, and I camped out on the floor. Spartan describes the cabin appropriately, for there is nothing in it aside from the bunks. But it offered a respite from the elements and assured us of a dry, warm night.
For dinner, I boiled water for my Alpine Air Mountain Chili and a side dish of garlic mashed potatoes. Folks with extra food shared some, including Brandon (pita bread) and Dusty (bagels, cookies, chips). I took particular interest in Brandon's homemade alcohol stove--very compact, light, with a strong flame.
Clouds rolled in as darkness fell, so there'd be no stargazing in the evening. As an alternative, Kay suggested we tell stories. She began with a recollection of being the last one to finish lunch as a young girl, this occurring to her during the hike when she was the last to finish her midday meal. Keying off something Kay said, Mark also shared a story, as did I, mine being about the German shepherds my dad raised. For me, sleep came easily in the night, the last one in the Koolaus for us on this trip.
== Day 3, Sunday, August 1==
The crinkling rustle of Steve Poor's space blanket-tarp was the alarm that woke me on the final morning in the mountains. Seven of us had slept in the cabin, the door and front window of the structure wide open with nary a mosquito to bother us during the night. Outside, clouds swirled about in the ohia and uluhe, and on occasion the sun tried to muscle its way through the smokey white.
Like the morning before, breakfast for me was a couple of Clif Bars (cookies 'n cream) with some glop spread atop them. I had an ample reserve of juice from the batch I'd made at the stream yesterday afternoon, so I chugged down plenty of fluids to prep for today's hike out.
I felt energetic, having had a good night's rest. The evening before, Mark suggested I double up my full-length z-rest to provide extra cushioning for shoulder and hip, and his tip proved helpful. And since I didn't have to pitch my tent, I used it as a pillow and the added comfort also was welcome.
At 7:00, I phoned HTMC trail clearing honcho Mabel Kekina to let her know we all had reached Poamoho safely and to relay that message to our HTMC friends, who probably were wondering about us. Mabel gave me the weather forecast for the day, which called for clear skies, decreasing winds, and increasing humidity. And since my friend Bill Melemai would be assisting with posthike ground transport, I phoned him with our ETA at California Avenue in the afternoon.
Between 7 and 8, the cabin campers began departing on the final leg of the day--a 2-mile hike south on the summit trail and an 8-mile west-bound rollercoaster finish on the Schofield Trail to California Avenue in Wahiawa. At 8:00, Brandon and Kay were the last to leave the cabin, saying they'd be moving along at a botanical/exploratory pace.
I held off on shoving off until the tent campers arrived and while I waited, I prepared most of my gear then lay down on one of the bunks to take a short nap. What I purposely delayed was putting on my trail clothes, mucked with two day's worth of grime.
Around 8:30, I heard familiar whoops from approaching hikers and that stirred me to action. On went my red t-shirt, then my mud-caked cordura pants, then socks, shoes, gaiters, and gloves. I reeked, an expected circumstance.
The tent camping group (Ken, Carole, Thomas, June) spent a couple minutes inspecting the cabin before continuing on. Pat, just as he did the day before, manned the sweep spot, and we agreed to continue our hourly radio checks.
At 8:45, I hiked away from the cabin, determined to get to California Avenue as quickly as possible to secure something I'd dreamed about the past two days: a massive plate lunch. :-) In a few minutes, I hiked past Ken, Carole, Thomas, and June, bidding them a good hike and mentioning my date with an L&L drive-in in Wahiawa. And not long afterward, I ambled past Brandon and Kay, who had stopped to examine a native plant on a slope on the lee side of the trail. I tripped and flopped while going past them, a foreshadowing of a more dramatic happening to come.
There is about 10 to 15 minutes of lee hiking on the KST past the cabin before the route transitions to windward. Though muddy, the trail was in nice shape compared to what we encountered between Kawailoa and Poamoho. About 20 minutes from the cabin, I paused momentarily to inspect the trail heading down to Kahana below Pu'u Pauao. I hoped Roger hadn't descended this trail, thinking it was Waikane, and it appeared he hadn't when a few minutes further down the KST I saw a flattened section of grass where he might have spent the night.
While I'm a very careful hiker by nature, my haste on this day caused me to so something I know I shouldn't do: fall off the trail. About five to ten minutes past the Pauao junction, the trail bends around a corner of the mountain. In this segment, land-slides have narrowed the path and careful foot placement is needed as a result. Well, I wasn't as careful as I should have been and an ill-placed step with my left foot sent me careening feet-first, face-down, ten feet down the mountain. By good fortune, my feet slid into a solid clump of vegetation that held my weight, stopping further slippage.
In a tiff, my first impulse was to curse myself for being in this predicament. However, the self-directed verbal barrage stopped quickly when I rotated my head, looked over my left shoulder, and saw what a dangerous position I was in. Specifically, if I were to slide down five more feet, the drop would be near vertical for several hundred feet with few if any trees to snag on to. Compounding the dire circumstance was that none of my colleagues were in eye- or ear-shot at the time. Mark, Dusty, Steve, and Rob were way ahead, and the others were behind, around the corner I'd just swung past. In other words, if I fell here, no one might ever know. Not good.
Accordingly, I made up my mind I wasn't going to slide down any further. Going straight up wasn't an option since my fall had obliterated a good deal of the vegetation in my slide path. So after tossing one of my hiking poles up onto the trail, I began edging my way to the right, testing vegetation for solidness. Not far above to the right was a large clump of clidemia, a weed that has a redeeming feature of being a pretty reliable handhold. After kicking my toes into the mountain to establish foot-holds, I then lunged upward for the clidemia, putting faith that this patch of the usually dreaded weed would be solidly anchored. It held.
I then was able to hoist my carcass onto the trail, where I rolled over onto my back, eyes skyward, heart pumping near full tilt. "What a #$$%ing bonehead," I barked, the previously terminated cursing now resuming. But I knew I had to settle myself before continuing, and I did, spending a few minutes drinking water, taking deep breaths, and eating a power bar. That done, I set off again, still moving quickly but with much more attention paid to foot placement.
The rest of the summit crossover went without incident (read: no more falls), with the views to windward the most spectacular I've experienced along this stretch. When cloudless, the section from Poamoho to Schofield is one of the most awesome on Oahu, and we were blessed without cloud-free conditions on this day. Good deal.
By 10:45, I was on my way down the Schofield Trail at high speed, my cleated shoes and hiking poles doing what they were designed to do. The late morning and early afternoon became scorching hot. But I don't loathe sweat--I love it, in fact. And moving down the trail quickly and alone, I enjoyed my most pleasant descent of Schofield ever. Radio checks with Pat at 11 and noon kept me updated on the pace and disposition of the other folks, Pat reporting steady progress and no problems. At 1:15, I reached the Schofield trailhead, and waiting there were Rob and Mark. Steve and Dusty pulled in in the next ten minutes. After a welcome half-hour rest, we shoved off for the 3mile walk on the dirt road to California Avenue, my spirits high knowing the end was near.
Rob, Mark, Dusty, Steve, and I emerged by the water tanks at the end of California Avenue at 2:45. Greeting us there were Mark's son, Ryan, and my friend, Bill Melemai. Bill had brought cold drinks and made cold cut sandwiches for us, and we ravenously consumed these while rehashing the past couple day's events. Thanks to Bill and Ryan.
Jumping into Ryan's Trooper, Mark, Dusty and Rob said their goodbyes and headed home to the windward side. Meanwhile, Steve awaited the arrival of his wife, who he'd called an hour earlier with my cell phone. Bill had driven to California Ave. in Ken's SUV and not long after we arrived there, Donna, Bill's wife, drove up in Pat's Honda SUV (Ken's, Pat's, and Brandon's vehicles had been left at Bill & Donna's house near Mililani on Friday). I had left my Cherokee at California Ave on Friday morning and it was good to see it still there intact.
Since the others would probably not arrive for a couple more hours, Bill and Donna jumped in my vehicle and we headed over to their house where I could shower, get something to eat (Bill had bought me the massive plate lunch I'd dreamed about--fried rice, eggs, luncheon meat), and relax.
At 4:00, Ken, using his cell phone, called Bill's house, reporting he and the six other folks on the trail were still about an hour from the trailhead, with another hour of roadwalking to log after that to reach California Avenue. Could we drive up the dirt road to the trail-head to pick them up? (I think Ken was actually asking for Carole and/or June). Bill was talking to Ken at the time, and said that'd be no problem. Ken would call again at five.
After Bill hung up, I told him it would be more fitting if everyone walked all the way to California Avenue. Catch a ride? Hey, the rest of us humped it to the end. "They'll thank me for having to walk out," I told Bill. "I'll talk to Ken when he calls at five." A little after 5:00, Ken called, reporting they'd reached the trail head. When I told him of my decision, he said okay, without protest or fanfare (Ken is not a griper and I respect him highly). From what I found out later, Carole, who was really looking forward to the ride, didn't protest either. She simply gobbled a power bar, shouldered her pack, and set off down the dirt road at a fast clip. Because they wouldn't reach California Avenue until 6:00, Bill (driving Brandon's car) and I (driving mine) didn't have to leave Bill's house until 5:30. Bill had made some more sandwiches for the final seven and I stopped at the store to pick up some chips and drinks.
At a little past 6:00 p.m., the HTMC Ko'olau Summit Trail backpack came to a successful conclusion when Brandon, Kay, Thomas, June, Carole, Ken, and Pat walked out of the forest and onto California Avenue. Food and drinks were gobbled down, and more stories shared. Though understandably tired, everyone was jubilant about having made it all the way.
By tradition, the next KST back-pack will be held five years hence in 2004. However, we might not wait that long since I've already received a request from an HTMC member to coordinate a similar trip in the summer of 2000. Sheesh, is there no end to the friggin nut cases out there? :-)
COMING EVENTS EditorPatrick Rorie's Ainapo Challenge, Part 2, delayed by the coverage of the rescue of the young Danish women in Kahana Valley, will appear in the next issue of the newsletter.
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