Waimano Ridge

Today's TM outing was Waimano Ridge, a 7.5 mile trail that starts in the hills above Pearl City and ends at a Ko'olau summit overlook of Waihe'e Valley. I didn't get a head count but there were between 20 to 30 of us on hand to work. As is usually the case when we bear down on this trail, some folks blitz to the summit and then work from the top-down. Others begin working as soon as intruding brush is encountered, usually about the 2-mile mark. Some hike in a bit further and then begin clearing. Nobody is assigned a particular section; instead, folks do what needs to be done to complete the job the best way. The trail was moderately overgrown but by day's end it was cleared to club standards. Based on a small notebook in a bottle that serves as a summit register, many hikers make it to the summit of Waimano Ridge. And based on the folks signing the register, the majority are island visitors or military personnel. During our outing today, we saw four other hikers on the trail. One, a woman hiking solo, said she was only hiking it partway. Three others were summit bound. Today's weather was great, with a mainland-like chill in the air. The summit was cloudfree to the north and south. A fine day for hiking and doing trail work it was. Next Sunday's TM outing will be Manana Ditch, a rugged rollercoaster affair that always tests our leg and lung power. Meeting time is 8 a.m. atop Pacific Palisades at the end of Komo Mai Drive. --dkt

Kipapa Windward

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.

--dkt

Waiahole Ridge

In the summer of '99, a handful of us tried to gain the summit of the
Koolaus from Waiahole Valley (see the OHE posts for June '99 for
write-ups).  We climbed up a ridge christened Kipapa Windward.  I was
so confident we'd reach the crest, I made a bold prediction success
would be ours.  Well, success wasn't to be had and it was humble pie
eating time.

I mention this because today I, along with the TM crew from the club,
returned to Waiahole, not for a summit attempt, but to work on the
Kuolani-Waianu trail for a 2/11, Sunday club hike.  There was something
out of the ordinary that happened, and I'll get to that later in the
write-up.

We, about two dozen of us, met at 8 by the Waiahole Poi factory just off
of Kam Hwy.  Along with the usual gang, we had three newbies out with
us.  It's interesting to have new faces in the crowd and observe how the
vets act and interact with them.  There's an intriguing dynamic that
transpires and a definite variance in behavior patterns.  I won't go into
specifics, for if you reflect on what happens when a new person appears
amongst a group of people who have a long association with one another,
you'll understand what I mean.

Okay, enough observational mumbo jumbo. Mabel gave us our hiking orders
and off we carpooled--some heading up the left fork of the valley road and
most heading to the right.  I caught a ride with Charlotte Yamane and her husband Volker 
to the end of the left fork, and hiked with Jason Sunada, Grant Oka, and
Georgina Oka.  After about 15 minutes, we caught up to Dusty and Sandy Klein.  Right
at that point, Jason and I bailed on the usual club route and began
climbing up the brushy but still doable lower segment of Kipapa
Windward.  I mentioned to Jason that it'd be good if Wing would come back
to re-clear the uluhe in the beginning, for it was Wing who reopened this
trail back in May '99 (www2.hawaii.edu/~turner/ohe/May99/5-29b.html).

But the uluhe was manageable and we were soon above it and climbing in
more unhindered conditions underfoot.  In less than 30 minutes, we emerged
on the Waiahole Ditch Trail, where we headed right (or north).  Neither I
nor Jason had ever hiked this segment of the ditch trail.  And, based on 
its overgrown, landslidish state, it appeared few, if any, folks hike it
nowadays.  But there's something about being able to say, "Yes, I've hiked
that trail."  And Jason and I can say that about this segment of
the ditch trail though it's unlikely I will be hiking it again
soon, for I can take only so much of weeds in my face and fallen logs to
crawl over & under.

After 90 minutes of moving slowly along the overgrown ditch trail, we
finally arrived at the improved section the club uses on its
outings.  Dusty was standing at the junction when we arrived and we found
out from him that most of the group had gone the other way around the loop
and were working toward us.  

This segment of the ditch trail didn't need much work aside from rocks and
branches that we tossed or kicked off the path. At one point, we passed an
outflow of the ditch, with water gushing out forming a noisy
cascade.  Not far past that, we explored a tunnel on the left.  Assisted
by Jason and his photon light, we stooped and shuffled through the tunnel
for 40 meters, stopping at a 4-foot  retaining wall.  Fifteen feet beyond
the wall was the Waiahole ditch.  Jason said something like, "With some
inner tubes away we'd go." No tubes, no go, however.

We exited the tunnel and continued north along the ditch trail.  I tried
to raise various members of the crew via walkie-talkie but had no
luck.  With all the intervening side ridges and a thick canopy of trees
overhead, negative radio contact was expected.  

I pushed a little ahead of Jason and Dusty and when I came to place along
the trail with ironwoods and an open uluhe slope on the left, I decided to
climb up the slope to try to gain a vantage point where I could
A) Sit down to eat lunch with a good view of the valley and
B) See further upridge to determin if I could find a way to try and climb
up toward the summit of the Koolaus.

As I climbed, I saw Jason and Dusty hiking along the ditch trail, and I
called out so they'd see where I was and follow me if they wanted.  Jason
waded up the slope after me.  Dusty, with trail marking duties to tend to,
declined. When Jason caught up to me, I pointed out an octopus tree 100
meters ahead of us that would be a good place to accomplish goals A &
B.  He was agreeable to that, and after huffing, puffing, and swapping the
uluhe-crashing lead position, we arrived at our lunchspot right around
noontime.  We each had altimeter watches that put us at the ~900-foot
level.

We had a nice lunch and jabbered about a variety of things, including
the merits of various new and used cars, the material composition of
gaiters, and the equitable dispursement of gifts for multiple
siblings.  And we also talked about the likelihood of summiting via the
spur ridge we were on.  From our lunchspot, it was clear we'd have to have
our ridge join up with an even larger one just to the north of us.  Humps
in our ridge kept us from seeing if it indeed connected with the bigger
ridge, so we made the decision to keep climbing to find out what would
happen.

Faced with overhead uluhe and no trail, we traded off in the lead
with the front man plowing through and the trailer doing some
chopping and uluhe stomping.  Our ridge narrowed a bit but never
approached a razor-like state.  To provide some perspective, it was like
climbing to Pu'u o Kila in Kahana but today's ridge wasn't as steep nor as
narrow.  We eventually climbed above the uluhe and had an easier go in
a section of  native forest (lama, ohia, akia, maile).  The ridge became
rockier on the final ascent but the climbing wasn't that difficult. At
around 1:15, we reached the place where our ridge joined the bigger ridge
to the north.  The bigger ridge had a faint (pig?) trail on it and from
the look of things, it appeared we could have continued on up and perhaps
even summited.  Jason, one of the few to climb Piliwale ridge to
Konahuanui,  was game for a summit go, but I had had enough climbing and
excitement for the day.  An altimeter check put us at the ~1500-foot
level, about 1000 feet from the top. A topo map review gave us an idea
what ridge we were on and where it would hit the summit.  

Based on all this, I'm cautiously optimistic we can acquire the
summit with this route and do so without great peril.  Keep in mind I
made a similar prediction before and was very wrong.  Although I'm not
sure when we will make a try for it, it'll likely be before the end of
February. 

Jason and I returned the same way we'd climbed, and on the way down we did
additional uluhe stomping to further establish the swath we'd created.  We
needed about half an hour to descend back to the ditch trail and another
hour to hike out to the end of the right fork of the valley road.  Tom
Yoza was waiting for us there and provided a ride back out to the
highway.  Mahalo, Tom.

Refreshments aplenty were being had at Waiahole Beach Park, and in
addition to consumption of cold drinks and snacks, I did more observation
of vet/newcomer dynamics and interaction. Interesting, indeed.

Next Sunday's TM outing will be Waimano.  Meeting time is 8 a.m. at the
top of Waimano Home Road next to the Waimano Home guard
checkpoint.  Newcomers are certainly welcome.  See you there.

--dkt

Moanalua Saddle to Halawa Ridge

What a difference a swath makes.  That's a thought that popped into my
head a bunch of times today while I hiked.  Joining me was fellow
swath-buckler Ed Gilman, who needs no introduction since he's been
mentioned on the list quite a bit.

The swath we were glad to have in front of us was on the west (aka
north) ridge of Moanalua Valley.  A small group of us did this ridge a
couple weeks ago, and in my write-up of that hike I belabored the point
that we had a pretty tough go of it because no trail existed up there.

But there is a trail on Moanalua west now as a result of the push-through
we did two weeks ago and some chopping Ed and I did today.  Mabel tells me
she will lobby the HTMC schedule committee to include a hike on this
route, so club members stay tuned.  And for non-club members, new hikes
like this might be incentive for joining the ranks of the HTMC.  We're a
pretty good bunch of folks.

My motivation for doing what we did today was two-fold.  First, the club's
trail maintenance crew would be working on Halawa Ridge--the
sequel.  Since I had taken part in the original flick last Sunday, I
wasn't brimming with enthusiasm for Part Deux today.  Second, I wanted to
hike a section of the crest between Moanalua and Halawa, the
penultimate hikeable segment of the Koolau summit I have yet to traverse
(Aiea to Waimalu will complete it).  

It would be good if I had some company, so I through out a line to OHE on
Friday night to see if I'd get any bites.  While there were some nibbles,
only Ed swallowed the hook.  The plan was to meet this morning at 7:30 at
the Halawa trailhead on Iwaena Street, and Ed was there to meet me at that
time.

We had planned to use either Ed's or my vehicle to drive over to Moanalua
Valley, but we didn't have to since Deetsie Chave, an early arriver for
Halawa trail clearing, offered us a ride. Thanks, Deetsie.

We were dropped off at the Moanalua community park at about ten to eight,
and as Ed and I tied our boots and checked our packs, we saw an off-duty
soldier with a big ruck sack checking his gear in front of the park's
restroom.  From his sweaty, disheveled disposition, he appeared to have
spent the night camping somewhere up mauka.  Either that or he'd hiked up
the valley and returned. Give him credit.

Ed and I began hiking up the valley road a couple minutes before eight,
and we moved along at a steady pace, talking story to help pass the 45
minutes we needed to reach the place where we'd leave the road to start
the valley trail.  Ed's an interesting and pleasant gentleman, and I found
out, via questions I asked, about his background in photography, his
fondness for sailing, his reasons for moving to Hawaii (he's originally
from the east coast), and other things.  We had a pleasant chat.

The chatting diminished in the next 45 minutes, which is what we needed to
reach the crest of Moanalua west ridge. We had an easier time today thanks
to the trail work of Mabel Kekina, Deetsie, and Charlotte Yamane a couple of Sundays
ago.  Like I said at the beginning, what a difference a swath makes.

At 9:30, Ed and I began heading mauka on Moanalua west after making
walkie-talkie contact with the HTM crew coming up Halawa.  I talked with
Tom Yoza, who was in the eucalyptus section at the time.  I radioed Tom
several other times that morning, usually to report our status.

And our status was always quite good, mostly because of the swath created
by our gang of six two weeks ago.  Feeling energetic, Ed and I fished out
machetes from our packs and did some cutting as we made our way
up the ridge.  Guava branches and i'e i'e tangles were chopped.  Ditto for
uluhe.  Hopefully, the swath will hold until the next time we go up the
ridge, perhaps with the TM crew.

At 10:30, we had completed the ascent of the steepest part of the ridge (a
rope is situated there) and we stopped to rest at the pu'u where we'd
eaten lunch two weeks ago.  We were over an hour ahead of the pace from
that ordeal.  The faster (and easier) progress was very encouraging.

Mushing on along the swath stamped down a fortnight ago, we dropped into
an intermediate saddle, ascended to a large pu'u (false summit), dipped
down into a significant saddle, and completed the final curving climb to
the Koolau summit.  We arrived at 11:15, two hours ahead of the top-out
time two weeks ago.

We rested for five minutes at the summit clearing (there's a metal pipe in
the ground there) and soaked up the clear views down in Haiku Valley and
beyond to Kaneohe and Kaneohe Bay.  A light, cool wind lifted up and over
the crest, and I found this very pleasant.

I radioed Tom Yoza to let him know we'd reached the top and that we were
commencing the crossover to the Halawa summit.  A pretty decent trail
exists on the crest and I spotted several areas rooted out by
summit-loving pigs.  There was one substantial nob to climb enroute to
Halawa, with severe dropoffs to windward much of the way.  The footing was
quite reliable and there was virtually no mud.  We needed about 30 minutes
to reach the Halawa terminus.

I again radioed Tom to let him know we had finished the crossover and that
we'd be eating lunch.  Tom reported that the group he was with was nearing
the Halawa crossover and that others had pushed ahead and were heading for
the summit.

Around noon, Nathan was the first member of the crew to arrive at the
summit.  He joined Ed and me for lunch.  After our repast, we spent a
couple minutes clearing the summit area lunchspot for club hikers,
and as we did, Inger and her friend arrived.  

We left them to have the summit clearing to themselves, and Ed, Nathan,
and I began heading down Halawa. "It's possible to be back at Iwaena in
two hours," I announced to my colleagues, who chuckled and nodded to humor
me.  Picturing a 2:15 arrival at my car, I set off at a konk-head pace
(and, yup, I did konk my head when I misjudged a duck under a branch). As
we wound our way down the switchbacks, we enjoyed the good hedge trimmer
work done by Pat two weeks ago.  We also passed other members of the crew
heading for the top--Arnold Fukioka, Reuben Mateo, Mike Algiers, Helene

Sroat, Lynn Agena, Kris Corliss, Larry Oswald (weedwhacker in hand), Jason Sunada, 

among others. Mike did some nice gradingwork on a couple trouble spots.  Ken Suzuki

also did some nice grading of a lower section of the trail. Awesome stuff.

The planned two-hour outbound leg of Halawa never materialized.  I
ended up hiking out with Mabel, Georgina Oka, and Michael Valentino (Ralph's
son).  Mabel told me she had hot dogs for the post-outing feast, and as an
avowed meat-lover, I was eager to scarf some 'dogs.  I also realized I'd
have no hot dogs until Mabel arrived back at Iwaena, so there was no
reason to blitz down the trail.

I have to give Mabel her due.  Now in her early 70s, she can still hoof
it at a good pace.  She'll probably still be hiking in her 80s.  I forget
what time we arrived back at Iwaena--it might have been 3:30.  What really
mattered was that Mabel was there with her butane stove, pot, and boiled
hot dogs.  I ate my share, plus the share of any/all vegetarians in
attendance (and even a couple who were not (wave to Jay and Jim).  In
exchange, I offered any takers my share of cupcakes, cookies, chips, and
other miscellaneous available carby-fare

We had one injury casualty today: Deetsie, who dislocated her shoulder
in a fall and had to be driven to the hospital.  Let's hope for a
quick, painless recovery.

Next Sunday's (1/28) clearing outing will be Kuolani-Waianu.  Meeting
place is by the poi factory along Waiahole Valley Road at 8 a.m.  This is
one of the less strenuous work days and will give the crew a chance to
recover for a couple of upcoming toughies--Waimano on 2/4 and Manana Ditch
on 2/11.

I'd also like to encourage anyone and everyone to turn out for the Halawa
Ridge hike on Sunday 2/4.  The trail is in wonderful shape.  Though long,
the route offers a gentle way to reach the summit.  And like Stuart Ball
says about Waimano, "the miles will fly by."

--dkt

Halawa Ridge

Nine months have passed since we last cleared the 7-mile Halawa Ridge 
Trail. And after yesterday's HTMC TM outing I can attest that the
vegetation we chopped last April has made a large-scale growback in
3/4s of a year.  The top prize for fastest regeneration went to
Setaria palmifolia (palm grass), a reedy pest that seems to have
multiplied and thickened ten-fold (for a pic, see
http://www.floridata.com/ref/s/images/seta_pa1.jpg ).  Additionally,
there was no shortage of thick uluhe along the trail.


The good thing is that we had a good-sized turnout of about 30
yesterday.  Even at that, the crew still needs to return to Halawa this
coming Sunday to complete the job.

An energetic and enthusiastic bunch, we were armed with machetes, sickles,
and loppers.  We even had heavier artillery, namely a chainsaw and two
gas-powered hedge trimmers, one which crapped out early on.  But we still
couldn't finish clearing the trail up to usual club standards.  So this
Sunday again to Halawa it will be.

Notes:

Mabel directed the crew to clear no further than the crossover and to save
the upper section of the trail for next Sunday.

A small handful of the crew were insubordinate and hiked to the summit
to cleared from the top to the crossover point. The guilty parties know
who they are.  At the summit, visual and walkie contact was made with
members participating in the club hike at the Moanalua Saddle.

The eucalyptus section is now wide-open and a few small blowdowns were
cleared away with handsaws and the chainsaw.

About 2/3 of the section from the end of the eucalyptus forest to the
crossover is well-cleared, in many cases to the wall.  Some badly
overgrown segments remain.

Weatherwise, it was a high overcast day with light breezes. It never
rained.

Afterward, Ken Suzuki made available to us copies of his pamphlet, "Plants
Found on the Coastline and in the Mountains of O'ahu".  A great resource.

Roll call:  Jim W, Jason Sunada, Cera Sunada, Pat Rorie, Roger Breton, Ed Gilman, Kost Pankiwsky, Mabel Kekina, Ken Suzuki, Ralph Valentino, Jay Feldman, Carole K. Moon, June Miyasato, Tom Yoza, Lynn Agena, Georgina Oka, Inger Lidman, Inger's friend, Mel Yoshioka, Connie Muschek, Gordon Muschek, John Hall, Charlotte Yamane,  Bill Gorst, Nathan Yuen,
Carmen Craig, Mike Algiers, Helene Sroat, DKT.

--dkt

Godek-Jaskulski Ridge, Moanalua Saddle

To OHE this past April, Stuart Ball posted a tribute to the late Chuck
Godek (see http://www2.hawaii.edu/~turner/ohe/April00/4-3b.html to read the
post).  In his write-up, Stuart mentioned a "hair-raising loop" using the
left (north) ridge of Moanalua Valley.  The loop was pioneered by Godek
and his hiking contemporary Erwin "Ski Poles" Jaskulski.  Intrigued about
the route, I made a mental note to give it a go at some point.   Today, a
handful of us--after a bunch of sweating, scrambling, clawing, slipping,
and swearing-- completed the challenging circuit.

My companions today, for better or worse, were Dusty Klein, Jay
Feldman, Ed Gilman, Jim Wilburn, and Jason Sunada.  Four of the five who'd
join me showed up at Moanalua Valley Park at 8 a.m. for HTMC trail
maintenance of the Moanalua Valley Trail and had no idea what the day
really had in store for them.  The day before, Jason and I had talked
about the possibility of trying the loop.  After checking out the route on
a topo map, I was encouraged that it was makeable in a reasonable amount
of time and suffering.  So when I showed up at the park this a.m., I told
Jason of my plan.  He was in.  Dusty, Jay, Ed, and young Jim also
expressed interest, so our small hui was set.

The six of us pushed ahead of the main pack of a couple dozen HTM trail
clearers during the 45-minute walk up the valley dirt road.  After a short
regrouping at the junction where the valley trail begins, our sixsome set
off for the unknown.  Just past the gaging station, we crossed the stream
and almost immediately veered left through a small hau tangle to climb up
the start of a little spur ridge.

We followed old ribbons that led us into a ravine between two significant
spurs.  We knew we'd eventually have to climb one of the two spurs, but
which one?  Continuing up the ravine, we found that the ribbons petered
out.  Based on what I remembered from the topo map, I suggested we try to
gain the crest of the spur on the right.  And we were able to do that
after some steep climbing, scrambling, and pushing and clawing through
uluhe.

Once atop the spur, we saw signs, mostly old cuts of branches, that this
was the correct route to the top.  Mabel, Ralph, Deetsie, and John had
explored this ridge back in April and they'd done a bit of the clearing
work we saw today.  Today, Mabel, Deetsie, Charlotte (and
others?) followed us up the spur to do more clearing work to help keep the
trail open. 

Nearby pig rootings and a metal pipe in the ground at a forested clearing
atop the ridge marked the topping out point of the spur. After an hour of
climbing, we had acquired the crest of the north ridge of Moanalua Valley
aka Red Hill ridge.  We took a few minutes to rest there and
then commenced pushing our way up the ridge toward the summit. 

Earlier, I'd suggested that the best way to proceed when bashing up a
trail-less ridge was to have each of us rotate systematically into the
lead position since the first man had to expend the most energy, bear
the brunt of the assault from the ferns and assorted vegetation, and, if
unrelieved, collapse from exhaustion.  I estimated that five to ten
minutes at the front would suffice and then the leader would stop to let
the others pass, with hiker 2 assuming the lead position, akin to what
bicycle racers do in the Tour de France when drafting.  The process would
repeat itself every five to ten minutes.

Well, the "system" didn't work out exactly the way I suggested, but five
of our group of six did man the front slot at various points.  Being tired
and abused by flora (among other things) sometimes brings out the asshole
in me, and there were times today, especially when I took
long pulls at the front, when I became snippy and a basically a
dictatorial ass, resorting to sarcasm, taunts, and bad jokes to persuade
some of my colleagues to shoulder more of the burden.  Sorry, guys, for
not being diplomatic.

The climb to the summit was a typical Koolau-type rollercoaster.  A
few times we saw pig damage and followed rough pig trails, but most of
the time the ridge was trackless.  The worst sections were ones with
overhead uluhe, not many but enough to make me cranky.  We never had to
climb super steep slopes but one of the steeper ones had an old rope (left
by Chuck or Ski Poles?) that surprised us since we saw no other signs (old
ribbons, trash, or cut branches) that anyone has hiked this ridge in
recent years.

I believed we could summit by 12:00, but at 11:45, with a mid-sized
and a large puu ahead of us to scale, it became clear a noon kaukau
session overlooking Haiku Valley wasn't on our dance card.  So we stopped
at a shady place on the ridge to eat lunch.  The thinking was the
rest and refueling would give us the energy we'd need to push through to
the top.  Jason and I debated how long we'd need to summit from our lunch
spot. I said 30 minutes while Jason said an hour.  The 30 vs 60 estimate
became a running joke/taunt between us during and after lunch.

It turns out we needed more than 30 minutes to negotiate the mid-sized and
then the large puu.  But our work was far from done.  We then had to veer
off to the right to descend into a significant saddle (never a happy
time when making for a summit) and then endure a final uluhe-bashing climb
to gain the summit ridge and our long-awaited view of Haiku Valley
(another metal pipe marks the summit junction with the  ridge we
climbed).  Time needed from lunchspot: 75 minutes. Total
time needed to reach the summit metal pipe from the downridge metal pipe
clearing: 2.5 hours.  2.5 pipe to pipe.

I should mention that it was a great day for hanging out at the beach
(sunny with very few clouds) but not the best for hiking in the mountains 
I prefer high overcast). It became especially warm in the late morning
and early afternoon.  And warm means sweating, general discomfort, and a
need for greater water consumption.

There was some discussion about hiking north along the summit crest to
exit via the Halawa trail. But we decided to proceed southbound to hike
out the Moanalua trail (which the crew had cleared today) to complete the
Godek/Jaskulski loop.  Actually, the decision for the latter was agreed
upon mostly because it would take less time and energy (in theory).

>From the metal pipe at the summit, we followed the ridgeline south,
passing three (or two?) badly eroded leeward sections where Henry Davis
had left ropes. The drops to windward were extremely precipitous. After
the narrow, level eroded section, we then had to down-climb steeply, and
butt-sliding became a popular ridge-descending technique.  This steep
section wasn't as bad as I anticipated but care had to be taken to
avoid falls to windward or leeward.

Enroute, we made radio contact with Tom Yoza, who was clearing along the
ridge from the Moanalua saddle lunchspot northward over toward where we
were.  I, for one, was glad for Tom's work, which made the going easier
for us after a long, tough day.  

Much thanks go to other folks on the TM outing who left water and a can 
of Dr Pepper for us. The extra fluids were helpful since most of us had
run low or bottomed out our supplies (I began the day with four liters and
finished all but half a liter before I reached the saddle lunchspot).

>From the saddle, we hiked the well-cleared valley trail to the dirt
road (great work in the hau sections) and were back at the park in about
two hours. We were glad participants in the posthike/clearing gathering at
the neighborhood park.  Parched and tired, I must have downed a half dozen
diet Pepsis.

We also heard from Pat Rorie via walkie-talkie that he and Roger Breton
were coming down from the summit saddle to the park after crossing
along the summit from points north.  Pat and/or his buddy
Kapa Reero will hopefully post something about that undertaking.

Hope everyone had a pleasant weekend, hiking or otherwise.

--dkt

Koko Crater

As I've done on New Years morning for the past five years, I drove out to
Koko Crater to do the annual first-of-the-year hike with the Hawaiian
Trail and Mountain Club.

There was a bunch of us who arrived before eight to get a head start on
the masses (over 30 hikers) who'd arrive a bit later.  Among the early
birds were Jim Yuen & Ralph Valentino, who went to the rock arch to
prepare it for the two dozen-plus hikers who'd traverse it.  Other early
arrivers were Bev Valentino, Gordon & Connie Muschek, Jason Sunada, Bill
Gorst, Jim Pushaw, Stuart Ball and wife Lynn (celebrating their 4th
anniversary today), Lin Black, Nathan Yuen, and June Miyasato.

>From the Blowhole side, there are two ways to get to the rim: the rock
arch way and the direct route from the parking lot.  A handful of the
early birds went up the direct route and a handful the rock arch way. Like
last year, I ascended the no-nonsense direct route and enjoyed the workout
it provided.  

It was brisk, glorious New Year's morning, and once up on the rim, we were
able to rest and take in the clear views of the coastline near Sandy
Beach.  The air was slightly hazy, so views of Molokai and Lanai were
obscured.

While resting on the rim, we watched the mass of club hikers gathering in
the Blowhole parking lot between 8:30 and 8:45.  Spaces for parking were
all used up, so some of the late comers had to park at Sandy Beach and
walk or be shuttled over.

Instead of waiting for the big group to come up, most of the early birds
headed one way or the other along the rim trail.  Jason, who said he
wanted to check out the rock arch, headed down that trail to check it out
and later climbed back up to the rim.  Along with Stuart, Lynn, Lin, and
Jim, I headed on a counterclockwise route.

Once we dropped down into the botanical garden, we weaved our way up
through dead/dying/drying koa haole on a non-trail until we broke out into
the open on a rocky spur dike.  That dike took us to the west rim of the
crater, which we climbed to the summit.  While making our way up, we
watched a parade of club hikers on the rim across from us.  Some of the
fastest were already at the summit, resting and/or milling about on the
grated metal platform.

As it usually is, the west side rim trail was exhilirating and
enjoyable.  I hiked with Jim, who spent some time chopping back some brush
and shrubby trees that leaned onto the trail.  Stuart, Lynn, and Lin were
behind us, hiking at a relaxed pace.

At the summit, new year greetings were the order of the day.  Among
the many folks I saw and talked to there were Ralph, Bev, Connie,
Gordon, Clayton Kong, Clement Aleka-Gorai, Judy Park, Wayne Yee, Grant
Oka, Joyce Tomlinson, Thea Ferentinos, Justin Ohara, Mark Dyer, Calvin
Zane, Mike Algiers, and Helene Sroat.

After an hour of resting and socializing at the summit, I headed down the
east side rim, passing the turnoffs for the arch rock trail and the direct
trail to the blowhole lot.  I wanted to do some exploratory hiking, so I
continued along the east rim and just before it swung left to drop into
the garden, I veered right to descend the spur toward the stables (Wing
wrote about doing this a while back).

The spur was open and rocky in its upper half.  Then it transitioned into
more of a grainy, eroded slope peppered with dried/dead koa haole
trees.  In about ten minutes, I completed the descent of the spur and then
picked my way through a koa haole forest toward Sandy Beach.  In the
forest, I passed many huge boulders, undoubtedly long-ago roll-downs from
the steep wall of Koko Crater.

After about ten minutes of bee-bopping through the forest and boulders, I
emerged on Kalanianaole Highway about an eighth of a mile from the
Blowhole lot.  I then walked along the highway to my car.

There was a posthike gathering at the HTMC clubhouse in Waimanalo, but I
decided to forgo that and head home instead (I was hungry and wanted to
take a shower and a nap). Well, I hammered out this report before eating,
showering, or napping. Man, what a dedicated writer I am.  :-)

I should add that on the drive home, I was able to contact Tom Yoza via
walkie-talkie.  He and Lynn Agena were exploring (yet again) Maunawili
Valley, specifically the left slope of Piliwale Ridge.  So the question of
the day is will we ever see Tom on an HTMC hike or TM outing again?

I should also add a get-well-soon to Jay Feldman, who is hobbled by a foot
malady (achilles?), and was unable to be with us at Koko Crater
today.  Take care, Jay.

Go HTMC!

--dkt