Makapu'u Lighthouse Trail

Most of us who live in Hawaii or have an interest in the islands are familiar with the TV shows Magnum P.I. and Hawaii Five-O. Remember scenes from a high vantage point with Rabbit Island and the Waimanalo coast in the background? If you were wondering, those scenes were filmed at the Makapuu Lighthouse overlook, a site accessible via a 45 minute walk from Kalanianaole Highway.
After years of driving from Honolulu to my windward side home in Kaneohe, I finally decided in the summer of 1994 to check out what lay beyond that gated roadway at the bottom of the long hill on the Hawaii Kai Golf Course side. What had taken a lifelong Oahu resident so long to explore this place? Probably like many others, I had a notion that access to the road beyond the gate was not allowed. Even though more times than not I saw cars parked along the roadway fronting the gate indicating that people were tramping around up there, I categorized these folks as trespassers who'd placed themselves at the mercy of the law, car thieves, or both.

I'm not sure if overhearing a conversation about the hike prompted me to venture forth; however, one midsummer morning I was on the road to Waimanalo and after a 20 minute drive from Kaneohe was parking at the Hawaii Kai Golf Course (I was more leery of car thieves than the law). By the way, you need not park at the golf course to do the hike. Parking along the fairly wide shoulder along Kalanianaole is fine.

Plan on a 15 minute walk to the gate if you park at the golf course. From there, simply follow the paved road that contours along the ridge in the direction opposite of your ultimate destination. The climb is gradual and soon enough you'll find yourself rounding the corner of the ridge where you'll have your first magnificent view of the azure Pacific from atop steep and rugged sea cliffs. However, the hike does not end there.

Continue up the road, this time heading in the direction of Rabbit Island. In some spots, the road skirts perilously close to the side of the steep pali. While walking along these places, I had visions of some olden day lighthouse keeper teaching his son or daughter to drive--certainly not a place to err.,p.
The ultimate reward of the hike is at the end of the road at a windswept lookout point high above Makapuu Beach and Rabbit Island. While I stood there and gazed seaward, visions of Tom Selleck, Jack Lord and television cameras and lights popped into my mind. In retrospect, I even recall episodes of Bodies in Motion, the aerobics show featuring Gil Janklowitz, being shot there. In fact, Makapuu point has been occupied or visited by many others before me: a couple generations of lighthouse keepers and their families, a group of Hawaiians who claimed family rights to the aina (land) there, scores of local fisherman who venture down the steep cliffs to take advantage of fruitful fishing grounds, armies of teens armed with beer and spray paint (graffiti abounds), and many others.

Along with Lord, Selleck, Janklowitz and a miscellany of siteseers, vagabonds and just plain folk, Dayle Turner can be counted among the many who have traveled up the Makapuu Lighthouse road.

I should mention that it is possible to hike from the road to the ocean. While walking up the road from the highway, look for the place where the concrete pillars begin (this is on the section of the road that overlooks the ocean and is heading in the direction of the lighthouse). Right at the first pillar, a trail descends the steep, rocky slope. The trail is readily apparent and if you think you have drifted off the path, look back upslope for arrows spraypainted onto the rocks.The descent to the ocean takes 10-15 minutes and at the bottom are some nice tide pools and a blowhole that puffs geysers of ocean water to the rhythm of incoming swells.

Once at the oceanside, it is possible to head right along the shoreline (toward Sandy Beach) to get to a cave and beyond. I've never gone beyond the cave, but others have told me it is possible to hike along the rocky shelf to reach Pele's Chair, the rock formation by the ocean in the Allan Davis area that is part of the Makapuu Shoreline Loop. Monitor the wave action if you decide to do this. Getting swept into the ocean in this area could mean curtains.

Puu Maelieli with the Sierra Club

Tomorrow, Sunday, May 30, 2010, the Oahu chapter of the Sierra Club will be conducting an outing on the Pu'u Maelieli Trail in Kahaluu.   It is a foothill/ridge hike and is 3 miles roundtrip.


This is a photography hike and the pace will be slow as a result.


The trail climbs to an old WWII pillbox with a good view of Kaneohe Bay and the Koolau Mountains.
 

For info, contact Stan Oka 429-9814, Clyde Kobashigawa 262-6092, John Shimogawa 227-9925

Kaupo Cliffs Trail-- Waimanalo, Hawaii

I did this hike back on Election Day in 2002 with Jay Feldman and Scott Villiger. Here is the write-up.

On the day that Hawaii will vote in its first wahine governor, Jay Feldman, Scott Villiger, and I elect to go hiking in the Waimanalo end of the Ko'olaus. We meet at 9:30 at the HTMC clubhouse in 'Nalo, then hash around some options for our outing, the top two being a circumnavigation of Koko Crater--my first choice--or a Kaupo Cliffs/TomTom combo, which Jay prefers. I actually like the Kaupo option but do not like the potential hassle we sometimes have from the guy who lives in the last house on the left on the street we use to access the trail. However, after some wrangling about transportation logistics and an assist from Man Friday, who says he'll help with the pre-hike drop-off, I relent and say okay to a Kaupo ascent, much to the delight of Jay, whose car we use to ferry us to our starting point on Manawaiola Street.

Thanks to MF's help, Jay, Scott, and I are dropped off at the end of the street and into the bushes of the vacant lot we go with no hassles from the guy in the last house on the left. In a minute, Scott and I are in a forest of koa haole, with Jay trailing behind us. Right off, we hit a snag when Scott and I veer left in the brush and Jay veers right to begin heading up the TomTom trail, thinking that is the plan. Meanwhile, Scott and I, not knowing where Jay has headed off to, wait in the forest for him. Fortunately, Jay and Scott have walkie-talkies, so we are able to summon Jay back to our position. After a couple minutes and a couple of whoops to home in on our locations in the thick forest, we all are back together again on our way to Kaupo Cliffs.

The "trail" over to the start of the climb up Kaupo isn't much of a trail. Instead, it's often just a meander thru a forest of knee-high grass, koa haole, some splotches of hau, and plenty of old rock terraces and walls. Remembering past hikes, I know that a key landmark is a fence line of old barbed wire that runs from mauka to makai, so that is the target. Once we hit the fence line, we turn mauka and began climbing, reaching, in a couple of minutes, an open area with a view back toward the ocean.

I start snapping some pics at this point with yet another disposable camera, and by hike's end I have shot the whole roll, 27 pics in all.

From the fence line ridge, we contour around the back of a steep ravine on a shelf that looks pretty gnarly from a distance but is quite safe when hiked upon. A very thin rope is available for grabbing if needed for a semi-exposed section, but in reality if a slip occurs, the rope isn't going to prevent the Big Spill.

After the contour, no spills having occurred, we begin climbing again, having switched over to a spur ridge more makai of the fence line ridge we have begun on. This climb is quite spectacular, most of it being on an open ridge with steep drops on both sides. At a couple points, the climbs are up and over some bouldery, exposed segments but the foot- and handholds are ample and generally stable. I take a bunch of pics along the way.

One of the more exciting sections of the climb involves a left-side contour to skirt around a vertical outcrop on the ridge. A long section of fixed rope, pitons, and cables is available to help prevent a Big Spill into a steep ravine.

Making use of the climbing aids, we execute the contour without a problem and then once on the ridgeline again, we climb a couple minutes more to an ironwood grove where we sit down to rest and talk story. During this respite, Jay shares some candy and almonds with us while we hunker down.

After the 15-minute break, we rise again to continue the ascent to the summit. We make our way thru the upper end of the ironwood grove, which Jay notes is a perfect place to string up a hammock and read a book, and then continue up a steep but broad slope with fairly decent footing. After climbing this way for ten minutes, the straight-up climbing becomes impossibly steep. At this point, we slab to the right, following a long fixed rope, which delivers us to an adjacent spur ridge. At that point, Scott spots a bunch of goats scrambling in the trees on the farside of a ravine to our right. At many points during our climb, we have seen evidence of the goat's presence via their black, pellety scat, so the sighting isn't a surprise.
Having executed the rope-assisted rightward slab, the major exposure sections are behind us and from then on we climb in relative safety thru another ironwood grove then up the final section of the ridgeline past or over a couple of rock outcrops. We acquire the summit very near the ironwood grove where we traditionally lunch during the Makapu'u-TomTom hike. A good climb completed safely.

From there, we hike along the summit, heading for the top of the TomTom trail. En route, we pause briefly at the Kamiloiki Ridge trail terminus in a shady grove of ironwoods and continuing on we pass the head of Kamilonui Valley. Beyond that, at the higher of two pu'us with powerline poles atop them, we reach the apex of the TomTom trail. A huge metal powerline pole with the word "FAT" spray-painted on it, marks the summit now. I take a pic of Jay and Scott next to the pole.

After resting and enjoying the wonderfully clear views atop the TomTom summit for a few minutes, we descend back to Waimanalo. While exiting in the grassy lot on Manawaiola, we see the man in the last house on the left. He is in his yard, cell phone in hand, with an angry look on his face. Is he calling the cops? We do not wait to find out and continue by somberly without pause.

Nothing comes of this but on the walk back to the clubhouse, Jay, Scott and I talk about how favorable it will be to talk story and make peace with this man, who may have some false impressions of us hikers. In fact, we may have false impressions of him. We agree that Mabel, with her grandmotherly looks and disarming ways, is an appropriate candidate to approach this man. We shall see.

When we reach Kalanianaole, we stop to buy lettuce from some nice folks at a roadside stand. An elderly tutu wahine at the stand, while eyeing us suspiciously, asks what we have been doing. When we say "hiking," her eyes soften and she smiles, replying, "Ahh, good exercise."
We smile in agreement, and each of us with a bag of fresh lettuce in hand, we tromp off back to the clubhouse for some cold drinks and snacks.

A good hike on a good day with good friends. I hope to have some pics up in a day or two.
With a new wahine governor to lead Hawaii for the coming four years, it's back to the grindstone tomorrow.

I hope you all are having a nice Election Day.

Pu'u Manamana

One of the most dangerous trails on Oahu is Pu'u Manamana.  The first time I tried it, I lost my nerve and turned back.  The second time, with the Hawaiian Trail and Mountain Club, went better and I completed the hike.  After that, I have hiked Manamana a number of times without mishap.

I have also written a detailed hike description of the Pu'u Manamana hike elsewhere.  Check it out.

The photo at left provides some perspective of what this trail is like--spooky yet spectacular.

Bear Claw Ridge -- 4/1/2001

[photo credit -- Jason Sunada]

I dislike hiking in streambeds and along narrow ridges with rotten rock. As things turned out, I did both today probably because I'm a hardheaded son of a gun. Or maybe I did it because it was April Fool's Day, and I'm the king of fools. Today, the TM gang was slated to work on the Kipapa Trail in cooperation with the feds, but that outing was cancelled at the 11th hour. So, in place of Kipapa, Mabel requested that the crew hike/work on the Pu'u o Kona route for an upcoming club hike. 

So a bunch of us showed up at the end of Kalaau Place in Kuliouou Valley this morning to do our thing. I'd hiked the o Kona route last Saturday and reported to Mabel that not much work was needed on it. Given that, the day was designated more one for hiking than for labor. No complaints from me in that regard. 

The assembled throng dispersed hither and yon. Some folks went up the direct route to Kuliouou Ridge. Some went up the middle ridge via the end of Papahehi Place. I went with a group of folks up the valley trail that led to the waterfall trail that led up to Kuliouou West by an airplane wreck near the summit. The valley/waterfall group had a good workout. 

We all made it up to Kuliouou West in good stead, after a romp thru a dry stream (which, as mentioned earlier, I dislike) and a huff-n-puffer of a climb.  Our group summited, rested awhile, then began clearing the trail along the crest toward Pu'u o Kona (not much work to be done).

Once at o Kona (elev 2200), we took a look at Bear Claw Ridge, the massive spur that extends down to Waimanalo. Many of us have looked at this ridge from the summit and from Waimanalo, wondering if we'd muster the nerve to ever attempt it. Well today a few of mustered up some muster. 

After some rationalizing and feet dragging, we took the plunge. I went down a side spur and then bashed and slashed left into a wide, heavily vegetated ravine that was a mess of 'ie'ie and strangling plants. Ed later followed my basic line of torture. Meanwhile, Jason damned the torpedos and went down the direct ridge, and Peter edged after him. My way was safer but required more energy expenditure. Jason's way was direct but more exposed. It was pick your poison.

I eventually made my way thru the vegetation stranglehold, while being urged on and peppered with advice via walkie-talkie from comrades watching my progress up on the summit ridge. After hearing from Jason that the main ridge was "okay" (a relative term in the HTMC), I clawed my way very steeply thru 'ie'ie and buffalo grass to regain the main ridge where Jason had stopped to wait for me. 

At this point, Peter had decided to head back up and Ed was still battling the tangling flora (Ed later gained the main ridge and then headed back to the summit). So Jason and I slowly and carefully continued makai down the Bear Claw. We moved gingerly down some steep, crumbly slopes that obviously were negotiable and edged to the right of a couple of pinnacle rock formations. While edging, I had to move extra carefully because of my wide and heavy bulk ("walk lightly" was my mantra). 

Many of the rocks along the ridge, some boulder-sized, were rotten and ready to dislodge under the weight or tug of an unwary hiker. Fortunately, Jason and I are experienced enough to know what and how much to grab, lean on, and put weight on to avoid a big plunge. We passed to the left of a large ironwood tree and the ridge narrowed right after it. We crept along the thin, rocky ridge and then jumped down on the right. In the process, I dislodged a piece of the mountain. Looking at the ridge I'd destroyed, Jason said, "I hope we'll be able to climb back up." I hoped so, too. 

Not far after that, we arrived at a place where the main ridge narrowed and veered to the left and a broader side spur split off down to the right, with a broad, vegetated ravine between the two. The main ridge dropped to a vertical rockface of 8 to 10 feet. On the other hand, the right spur could be descended without aids. While I watched from above, Jason descended the right spur ten feet then did a left slabbing contour to get over to the main ridge, bypassing the 8-10 foot rockface. 

While I continued to watch (I'd decided not to go any further), Jason went down the main ridge a bit more then came back, saying he felt a little nervous. In a way, it was good to hear him say this because I was plenty nervous. Nervousness loves company, it seems. 

Jason, having decided to descend the main ridge no further, reslabbed back to the righthand side spur, descended that for a bit, then came back up to where I was. From this position, we were at the ~1800 ft level (altimeter watch check) and about 100 meters mauka of the ironwood grove that marks the point where the two claws of the ridge split steeply downward to the Waimanalo foothills below. It was around noon and time for lunch, but we both agreed not to eat until we had returned to the summit since somehow food would probably be unenjoyable with thoughts in our heads of the dicey climb still looming.

Moreover, clouds started massing along the summit ridge, an indicator that rain might soon follow. Precipitation plus steep eroded slopes equal bad news, so even moreso were we motivated to return to the summit without delay. After discussing crossing over the ravine to our left to ascend a spur on that side, we decided to stick with the main ridge, which we carefully made our way up. When we reached the narrow section by the ironwood tree, Jason slabbed left past the tree while I used its branches like a ladder to regain the ridgetop (thank heaven for strong branches), bypassing the narrow neck we'd hopped down (and I damaged) earlier. 

We then ascended the steep, eroded hill we'd come down earlier, did a twister contortionist routine thru a thicket of christmas berry (I did a bit of chopping there), then climbed steeply and carefully up a narrow hogback to the summit. Safety. Yes. Breathing proverbial sighs of relief, we turned south to hike along the summit to the clearing at the top of the state trail, pausing on occasion to look back at profiles of Bear Claw. 

We ate lunch at the top of the state trail with Peter and Ed, who waited for us there. After lunch, we headed down the state trail, admiring the new stairs we'd worked on last Saturday, and eventually arrived back on Kalaau Place. 

Notes: We found no ribbons or old cuts on Bear Claw today. It seems that no one has done this recently. We also left no ribbons. On my way home, I drove the Waimanalo backroads to take a good look at Bear Claw from below. Both claws appear do-able. In fact, we know that Al Miller, John Hall, Fred Durst, and others have done Bear Claw. John, who was in attendance today, told me he last did it about 30 years ago but can't recall if he went up on the left or right. He did remember that the climb required no cables/ropes and that access in Waimanalo wasn't problem. In typical HTM fashion, he described the climb as "not too bad." Miller, who has done it more recently, says the right claw is THE WAY to go and that cables are required in several spots. Will it be right or left? Hmmm... 

A week ago Monday, Ed and Roger Breton completed the section between the Moanalua Saddle and Keahiakahoe. This was a daring, dangerous undertaking since it involved an ascent of a very narrow ridgeline much of it over rotten rock. Nice job to those two.

Piliwale Ridge --9/16/2000 --Jason Sunada

The following post was written by Jason Sunada on Thurs, 21 Sep 2000. The photo at left is the worst section of Piliwale Ridge.Here is Jason's post:

Last Friday afternoon (9/15/00) was so nice that I started thinking I should hike somewhere on Saturday before the HTM Clubhouse Appreciation Night pizza dinner. Briefly considered beating Dayle and Co. (didn't know he had e-mailed his intentions that afternoon) to Lulumahu Ridge and its K1 summit (the taller of the Konahuanui twin peaks and formerly known as K2). He had mentioned exploring this ridge after his upper Nuuanu to Pali Lookout bushwhack the previous week. But that would likely be too long and rugged. And the parking's not too safe. Then mulled over various stream/waterfall hikes. However, with my birthday approaching (it came and went) I wanted to try something more. Piliwale Ridge came to mind. I did it twice before in the mid to late 80's and in the early 90's (should have kept a hike log). A few years ago I joined Stuart Ball to check out this ridge to the old HTM Club lunch spot (the grassy shelf). The trail above the Maunawili Contour was very overgrown and scratchy. When we topped out on the grassy shelf I was feeling uneasy with the big drop offs and no plants nearby for security. Across the dip in the ridge (which I considered the most dangerous part) the rock looked more eroded [due to (recent?) use]. It "didn't look too good" but the cable was still there (seen the second but not the first time).

Saturday morning was too cloudy deep in the valley for a stream hike so I settled on Piliwale Ridge -- if not to complete it, at least to check it out. Nothing was prepped the night before so I lost time getting ready, debating whether to bring the Camelbak. On the drive over the sky transitioned from sunny in town to very cloudy on the windward side causing some concern. Noticed Tom Yoza's yellow Scout parked at the hairpin turn and wondered what he was up to: mountain biking, more trailclearing, searching for missing hikers again? Because of high potential for break-ins why would he want to park there?

Parked on Lopaka Way in a beautiful Maunawili neighborhood and started up the water tank road at 9:05 am. The trail above the water tank was clear and appeared well used. Reached the junction with the Maunawili Contour in less than 20 minutes. Checked that no one was around then continued up the ridge. Within seconds noticed sunglasses (dark blue frame) laying on the trail. Further ahead the trail was very clear with nothing scratchy and also appeared well used. The sun shined more often so I sometimes waited for clouds to cover it before breaking out in the open. Looked down at the hairpin turn for Tom's vehicle but couldn't see it. Either trees blocked it or he had finished his bike ride already and left. I later learned they (his bike gang?) rendezvoused there then drove near the middle part of the Maunawili Contour to clear the trail.

Got to the grassy shelf before the dip feeling fine. Wondered what lunatic would leap across to the rock below. Noticed the cable across the dip. The ridge looked "not too bad." Dropped down on the left to the dip then climbed up with the cable nearby in case I slipped. For some reason (no recent erosion, more grass/greenery?) I didn't realize this was the most dangerous part and continued on. While on a narrow area I noticed my left trailshoe laces undone. Dohhh. Made a mental note to double check laces before dicey spots. Saw another cable (part of two cables in series). Contoured left around it then got back on the ridgeline above it. Saturday night I mentioned two areas with cables (three cables total). Now I'm not sure. May have been three areas (four cables total). Definitely remember seeing a black one (first cable by dip?) and a gray one.

Anyway, above the cables I reached a wider rocky face where I couldn't go straight up. At first glance the right side looked too sheer so I spent 15 minutes contouring a couple steps left then trying unsuccessfully to step and grab my way up, pondering between attempts. Gave up, backtracked to the ridgeline and sat down, relieved but disappointed to be turning back. Ate three pretzels and some li hing guava, enjoyed the great view and wondered if I could come down safely (safety was on my mind throughout this hike). While taking my partially frozen iced tea from my bag something fell out. Looked down and saw my umbrella, fortunately just a few feet below on the ridgeline. Figured I'd pick it up on the way down after checking the other side of the rocky face. Found a path so I retrieved my umbrella then continued up. All along I kept wondering why the trail seemed so much harder than the time I previously checked it out with Stuart. Maybe I had already passed the bad spots. Topped out at the next point (or the following one) and could see I was home free. "Safer," wider ridge with plenty of plants to grab. Think was around 11:30 am. Still looked like a long way to go with the summit clouded in. The trail had been nice and dry but above about 2600 ft the ground became moister with some stepping and sliding. It again appeared well used with some significant clearings (Pat and Laredo's top down exploration?) making the going easier than previous times.

Recognized ohia, maile, i'e i'e, kahili ginger (!, many in bloom with yellow flowers), lapalapa, uli grass, other shorter/thinner blade grasses, uluhe, clidemia, another pest plant with prominently-veined leaves bigger and smoother than clidemia leaves. Also strawberry guava and fiddlewood on the lower ridge. Unfortunately, didn't spend any time looking off trail for lobelias, etc. (not that I would know). Reached the summit trail at 11:55 am (still clouded in). Plucked a little purple flower and stuck it in some moss at chest level to mark the junction and continued left trying not to step in the putrid, watery mud.

Summitted K1 at 12:05 pm at the grassy lunch spot of the June 25 trailclearing (I was in the group that didn't go down Manoa Middle). Recalled taking one hour from the grassy shelf the first time up and being real surprised because Ski Pole had said it takes 4 hours (maybe he was mistaken or setting ropes). Reset altimeter watch (was reading couple hundred feet low). Thought I heard faint voices so I walked toward the K2 side where the summit narrows again. Realized was the buzz of bees or something whizzing overhead from the windward side. On the way up I had been debating which way to go down (originally planned to be home by 2 pm). K2-Aihualama and get picked up at Paradise Park (2-1/2 hrs). K2-Nuuanu-Nuuanu Pali Drive-Pali Hwy-Pali Lookout-Old Pali-Road-Maunawili Contour-Lower Piliwale Ridge to water tank (5-1/2 to 6 hrs? Much less for Pat). Decided the same way down would be fastest. Also remembered previously having concerns returning the same way but being pleasantly surprised. Called home to leave a message that I got to the top and would return the same way but would need at least 2 hrs back to the car.

Started back at 12:10 pm. Reached the Piliwale junction in 5 minutes. Saw my feel good flower in the moss. Then realized any hiker would naturally continue down Piliwale Ridge because the trail to Pali Lookout was obscure. (I once mistakenly went part way down Piliwale Ridge in a whiteout when intending to check the ridge to the Lookout.) The clouds opened some and I could see buses and cars at the Lookout. Continued quickly down. Didn't tie ribbons coming up so I sometimes had to stop and search where I came up or just went down a different route (Pat and Laredo's?). Got tangled periodically in maile, i'e i'e runners, and a vine with large, light green leaves. Passed the various patches of Kahili Ginger where I stopped to take altimeter readings. They're growing between 300-500 feet below the summit of K1. Emptied my bladder (Camelbak, that is). Glad I brought it -- great on narrow ridges. With a slight left thigh muscle ache (due to dehydration?) and shoulder ache (slipped and held on) I stopped to drink, refill the Camelbak (only half-liter water and some iced tea left), and take two ibuprofen caplets. Also felt a little weak and ate half an energy bar, enjoying sweeping views with Olomana straight ahead. Continuing down, I saw an old, L-shaped backpack frame below the highest cable on the right. Thought of Greg Kingsley's famous orange backpack. Only the aluminum frame lay there. No pack, no straps, no waistbelt. Hadn't noticed it on the way up.

Continued down, unintentionally dislodging a couple rocks. Followed the ridgeline along the cable previously bypassed on the way up. Got down to the dip and back up to the grassy shelf. Relaxed and breathed a big sigh of relief! Continuing to the Maunawili Contour seemed to take a long time. The sunglasses were still there. Passed a jogger heading up the concrete water tank road. Didn't see him heading back down so I assumed he went up to the Maunawili Contour. Changed out of my dirty pants and gaiters and got back to my car at 2:10 pm (3 hrs up, 2 hrs down). A very satisfying day in the mountains.

[Note: Sorry for the poor trail details which I attribute to my impaired memory (just ain't there sometimes) and safety anxieties.]

[Warning Note: Mid-ridge is steep and dangerous with loose rocks and big drop offs. Do not rely on existing cables.

Ahiki Makai -- 8/19/2000

Date: Sun, 20 Aug 2000 18:29:18 -1000
From: Dayle K. Turner (turner@hawaii.edu)
Subject: Ahiki Makai

I enjoy exploring. Ditto for my hiking colleagues Wing Ng and Steve Poor. I'm not overly motivated and conscientious about proposing new exploratory adventures, but Steve is always brimming with ideas. Yesterday, he suggested we poke around the makai side of Mount Olomana to see if we could find a way up to Peak 2, also known as Ahiki (Peak 3 is Pakui). And lo and behold, we found a way although we stopped a couple hundred vertical feet of the goal when we dared not climb any further without aids. 

We met at 8:45 on old Kalanianaole Road, headed up the route we recently opened to Olomana Makai, and then veered left down a path we call "The Three Little Pigs Trail." No, the three pigs aren't Steve, Wing, and I. The name refers to a sign we found on the ridge. It says, as you've likely guessed, "Three Little Pigs." Who put it there and what three pigs are being referred to is a mystery. But it seems that the sign leaver also hacked out a trail up to the ridge from the Waimanalo side of the Olomana Makai Ridge. 

So we three followed this trail down and it led us to the bottom of a ravine. We crossed a small dry streambed, then climbed up a spur and then cross-sloped through a helluva gauntlet of bushes, vines, and bothersome flora. As you might expect, this interlude wasn't pleasant. 

  What was pleasant was that our cross-sloping ordeal led us to (surprise) a wide motorcycle trail at the edge of the spur. We followed the spur and trail mauka toward Ahiki (Peak 2), hoping it would go way, way up. It went up a good ways but then terminated at the 800-foot level (altimeter watch check) where the ridge began to narrow and steepen. 

So we pushed and chopped our way up the spur, taking the path of least effort. After about an hour, we eventually made our way to the base of a broad rock band just above the 1200 foot level (the summit of Ahiki is 1480). Steve and I ate lunch there (for me, my usual fare of Vienna sausage and peanuts). Meanwhile, Wing was further down the spur, continuing to climb. 

After lunch, Steve and I poked around 10 to 20 feet above our lunch spot and decided not to climb any further. The route might have been climbable but neither of us was motivated to give it go. Maybe another time. And maybe best done from the top down with some strong, long cables. Or maybe we'll leave well enough alone and call it unclimbable. Or more simply, what's the point? 

On our way down, we met Wing, his trusty lopper in hand. He continued on up to eat lunch and check out where we'd been. Steve and I continued down the spur, clearing away branches and brush as we did. After reaching the motorcycle trail, we headed down it, passing junked cars, trash, and the like. Steve cursed the inconsiderate louts who dumped stuff in the area. We eventually emerged on Old Kalanianaole Road on the makai side of which was a white fence with blue trim. The significant thing about this fence is that there is no house behind it. Maybe someday there'll be house, but as of Saturday, nada. 

To get back to where I'd parked my car, Steve and I walked back on the road for .6 miles (I drove back to the spot afterward and checked the distance with my odometer). On the way, we passed two horses in a corral. A fruit-bearing mango tree grew next to the corral and my question about whether horses eat mangos was answered when Steve picked up a fallen fruit from the ground, placed it on a fencepost, and we watched one of the horses stride over and eat it whole. Wow. 

After the .6 mile walk, we drove to a nearby 7-11 on Kailua Road for cold drinks and a snack and when we returned to check on Wing, we found him 100 yards away from his car. My motivation for returning to look for Wing was not only to make sure he was okay, but to find out if he'd found my hat which I'd lost somewhere along the way, most likely during the bash-and-crash cross-sloping segment. No dice. 

So that'll mean a return to the area for more exploring and also to search for my lost hat. I'll offer a reward of a can of Vienna sausage to anyone who finds my hat and returns it to me. It's a wide-brimmed boony type made of supplex material. Color is greenish-gray. Columbia brand. Mahalo.

Waikane Ka'aumakua -- 3/18/2001

Paying us will probably be the worst thing for the HTMC TM crew. If we ever were paid, then the amount of work we'd do, plus the quality of that work, would drop off drastically. I say this because as volunteers, with the only compensation being a couple of cold soft drinks and a piece of cheese cake (and occasionally hot dogs or meatballs) we do a helluva lot of work on Sundays. And if do say so myself, pretty damn bang-up work, too. Put a crew of paid workers up in the mountains to do what we do, and, yes, they'd get the job done. But likely in 3 to 4x the amount of time. And better? Probably not. But I'm biased.

Today, we worked on the Waikane Trail, which has traditionally been tough to clear because of numerous fallen trees, fast regrowth of trailside flora, and ongoing trail slippage. In short, we have to bust tail to clear this trail. But we inevitably do a good job. And today we did a helluva job. We started at 8, commencing with a hard hour of hiking just to get to the point where we began working. The last group was out at 5:30. That's 9.5 hours, with not much dillydallying.

While we traditionally use just machetes, sickles, and loppers to do battle, today the heavy artillery also came out, namely chain saws (3), hedge trimmers (2), picks, and shovels (several). The end result was a trail that in many sections is now as clear and well-graded as the Aiea Loop or the Maunawili Demo. Coordinated by Pat, the hike (members only) on April 1 will start at Kam Hwy and Waikane Valley Road. There's an hour walk on the dirt road in the valley to a water flume of the Waiahole Ditch (a good place to rinse/cool off on the way back). Next is a ~30 minute segment on the ditch trail to the Waikane saddle and the start of the Waikane Trail. Then add an hour to hour and a half climb to the junction with the KST (some magnificent sections of trail carved into the steep, vertical pali). Finally, finish with a 20-30 minute jaunt on the KST and a final scramble to Pu'u Kaaumakua, the piko of the Koolaus, where on a clear day you can see forever. I hope 100 people turn out for Pat's hike.

More than a dozen of us reached Kaaumakua today on one of the clearest days I've experienced in the mountains. Looking north, visible was the KST pointing toward Poamoho. Two large, recent landslides have raked over the summit trail just south of Pu'u Pauao. We're eager to find out what damage, if any, to trail occurred. To the south, about a mile and a half away as the apapane bird flies, was the summit of Kipapa Ridge. To leeward were the large, remote drainages of upper Waiawa where, in the land where no man roams, pigs rule. To windward, we looked down on the pointed pinnacle of Pu'u Ohulehule and its nearby cousin, Mo'o Kapu o Haloa, home of Kanehoalani.

The way up was the way down but the outbound leg went quicker than inbound, thanks to a beautifully cleared trail. While hiking down the mountain and admiring the work we'd done, I thought that if I were paid to do this, I'd stop trail clearing, for the work would then be a job. And I have one of those already. Sundays and trail clearing are a means to escape the world of my job, at least for the 6 to 8 hours I'm out in the hills. Somehow, getting paid would kill the escape.

Kipapa Windward pioneered -- 2/3/2001

Jason Sunada, Pat Rorie, Laredo Murray, and I were successful in reaching the summit of the Ko'olaus from Waiahole Valley today. Since the topping out point was quite near the terminus of the Kipapa trail, I will refer to the ridge we climbed as Kipapa Windward.

As I mentioned in a recent OHE post, Jason and I pushed partway up the ridge last Sunday. What took us two hours a week ago required only 30 minutes today. What a difference a swath made.

Once we reached last Sunday's stopping point, we were on virgin ridge. Laredo, shirtless and with hair dyed partially red, jumped out into the front and bravely ascended through uluhe, an assortment of native plants, clidemia, and the like. The most challenging sections were 1) a contorted climb around/through an ohia tree that spanned a narrow section of ridge, and 2) a steep scramble up a loose rock section just above the tree. Cables and/or rerouting might help for future
ascents/descents.

The critical area was between the 1500 and 2000-ft level where we saw very closely packed contour lines on the topo map, a red-flag zone meaning very steep stuff. Yes, it was steep but never cable-steep, and with plenty of grunting, twisting, ducking, and crawling, we made progress. At one point during the steep section we found ourselves tunneling through a dark corridor formed by uluhe, an interesting albeit less than pleasant time.

After the 2000-ft point, Pat assumed the lead and powered us up the ridge. This section was fantastic, with more open ridge conditions so we could see the hogback ahead as well as the array of steep, magnificent spurs left and right that stretched and strained up to the crest. We passed plenty of native vegetation, including loulu palms, lapalapa, olapa, kopiko, and others I can't name. Yes, we damaged native plants as we climbed and later when we headed back down. There was no malice in our damage.

At 11:45, 3.5 hours after we set our from our vehicles, we summited at a wind-whipped pu'u at the 2640 elevation level. Shouts rang out and arms were thrust skyward, save for Jason, who is not the shouting or hand-thrusting kind. We also exchanged handshakes, Jason a bit begrudgingly, to mark the summit acquistion.

In an adjacent ravine to the south (our left) was a grove of sugi pines where the remains of an ancient cabin (sometimes referred to as Uncle Tom's cabin) lay in shambles. We descended toward the ravine, hopped onto the Ko'olau summit trail, and hiked to south side of the pine grove to hunker down by the cabin ruins for lunch. From our lunchspot, the Kipapa summit was about ten minutes away.

Clouds had enclosed the area by this time and a chilly wind prompted us to put on raincoats or windbreakers to stay warm. We spent half an hour resting and eating, and perhaps would have lingered longer if we had warmer, sunnier conditions. A brief rainshower prompted Jason to open an umbrella and ultimately the wet stuff hastened our departure.

The return down the ridge back to Waiahole was one of the great descents I've experienced. After 15 minutes or so of down-hiking, we were below the cloud line and from there the ridge dropped in fantastic fashion like a steep escalator toward the valley floor. There were often precipitous dropoffs left and right but since the ridge never narrowed to dangerous proportions and since we were surrounded by ample vegetation that provided security, I never felt in danger. It was actually quite enjoyable.

The rain had made the way slick, but we took care not to make a bad error that might lead to "the plunge." In all, we needed about 90 minutes to reach the ditch trail from the summit (more handshakes exchanged) and another 30 minutes to hike back to our cars. By 3 p.m. we were on Kam Hwy headed back to home and warm showers and meals.