Friendship Garden and Kokokahi

Date: Sat, 21 Apr 2001 17:01:20 -1000
From: Shelly Bermudez <sbermudez@ywcaoahu.org>
To: turner@hawaii.edu
Subject: Friendship Garden

Aloha,

My name is Shelly Bermudez and I am the Program Manager of YWCA Camp
Kokokahi.  Upon conducting a word search of Kokokahi, I came across your
webpages about your hiking experience and the spirit dog.  Mahalo for
sharing your story.  For the past 5 years that I have been at the camp, I
have been interested in hearing any ghost stories about the Kokokahi
site.

Some brief history on Kokokahi.....

Dreams are realized in a diversity of ways, but few so beautifully as
that of Theodore Richards who envisioned  a Hawaiian valley where people
of many races would work, play, and pray together in harmony.  This was
"Kokokahi" of one blood.  This was the name he gave the valley when his
dream came to life in 1928.  His vision of Kokokahi was inspired by the
moving sermon of St. Paul in Chapter XVII of the Acts of Apostles.

Friendship Garden was a part of the whole Kokokahi system.  Mr. & Mrs.
Jack Gillmar, their children and numerous volunteers labored for 25 years
to restore and maintain the garden. In 1998, The Friendship Garden
Foundation obtained the deed for the property from the YWCA.  Mr. and
Mrs. Gillmar believe it is very important  to maintain the garden to
continue Dr. Richard's dream.  Mr. Gillmar's grandfather, Frank Schudder,
a Congregational missionary was a friend of Dr. Richards and played an
active role in Kokokahi's early days.

Russell Porter and Ted Talbott, two Windward residents were helpful in
restoring the trials that connected to the garden. One of the trails that
ties into Friendship Garden is named the Dudley Talbott Trail.  It was
built by Ted Talbott in honor of his grandfather, Paul Dudley.  It is
said that Mr. Tolbott, with the help of a few friends, worked about 1,000
hours and completed the trail in about 9 months.

If you are interested in more information about YWCA Camp Kokokahi,
please feel free to call the camp at the phone number below.

Aloha Nui Loa,

Shelly Bermudez
YWCA of O'ahu
Camp Kokokahi
45-035 Kaneohe Bay Drive
Kaneohe, Hawaii   96744
(808)247-2124 ext. 11
www.ywcaoahu.org

Bearclaw Ridge

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. Our crew included Peter Kempf, Ed Gilman, Pat Enomoto, Brenda & Dick Cowan, Jay Feldman, and Jason Sunada, and me. 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. After climbing up the middle ridge from Papahehi, Nathan Yuen, Thea Ferentinos, and Tom Yoza arrived at the pu'u by the airplane wreck about the same time as our group. Looking across the valley, we saw a string of hikers topping out on the Kuliouou state trail. They turned out to be Justin Ohara, Mike Algiers, and friends, who were bound for Makapuu along the summit. We also were in radio contact with other folks in the TM crew, who were working in Kaalakei Valley and up Mauna o Ahi Ridge. Lynn Agena, who's been tied up with work on Sundays since starting a new job, was with the crew today. Also on hand were Mabel Kekina, Deetsie Chave, Bill Gorst, Connie and Gordon Muschek, June Miyasato, Mel Yoshioka, among others. 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. This past Saturday, I hiked Kawaewae Ridge with the club. Jason and his wife and daughter were there as were Thea, Thea's sister and her two kids, Justin, Fred Boll, George Shoemaker, Peter, Steve Brown, Lin Black, Richard McMahon, and many others. It was a fine outing in good weather and everyone seemed to have had a good time. Go HTMC! --dkt

Waimano, Waiau campout

I'm on vacation this week (Spring Recess).  Ditto for my friend Bill
Melemai.  We hadn't hiked together for a bunch of months, so Bill
suggested an overnight backpack.  His first choice was Haleakala and his
second was Poamoho-Schofield. However, circumstances indicated we best
not attempt these. The third option was Waimano-Waiau, and we agreed that
this would work.

We started at 12:45 on Tuesday afternoon at the Waimano trailhead. Bill's
wife, Donna, dropped us off and she'd pick us up at the end of Kaahumanu
Street at the end of our trip sometime on Wed afternoon.  I was carrying a
fairly light load--no more than 15 lbs. In comparison, Bill's pack was
about 35.  During our trip, he heard me extol the virtues of lightweight
backpacking so much that he's  convinced he should make modifications to
what gear he'll use in the future.

Our plan for Day 1 was to pack in to the five-mile marker campsite along
Waimano. From there, we'd make camp then fetch water via the trail down
to the stream just before the 5.5 marker. Our hike in was slow and
leisurely, and we took a long break at the picnic shelter just past the
2.5 marker.  We arrived at five-mile camp at 4:30 and set up our tents
quickly as dark clouds swept down toward us from up-valley. I was using a
Walrus Micro Swift bivy and Bill a Peak 1 Cobra. These held up well though
mine lacked roominess.

We obtained a couple of gallons of H20 from the stream via a trail just
makai of marker 5.5.  Back at camp, I added iodine to the water and later
filtered a liter at a time with my SafeWater Anywhere squeeze bottle.
After adding some Crystal Light iced tea mix, we had plenty of drinkable
fluid for hydration for the night and next day.  Since we were just
overnighting, we decided to go the cookless route.  For dinner, I ate a
can of vienna sausage, some peanuts, and a protein drink (2 scoops of
whey with some Waimano Stream Water Iced Tea).  Bill ate an MRE entree
with a Tiger's bar for dessert.

After dinner, we talked story in the clearing next to our tents under a
splotchy night sky that hid all but a handful of stars.  Rain chased us
into our tents around nine, and after gabbing for a few minutes, I
was off into z-land.  The night turned a bit chilly and I could have slept
more restfully if I had packed a sleep cover and a long-sleeve top.  I
decided not to bring the former and forgot to pack the latter.  That'll
teach me. Camping, as I always discover, is a never-ending learning
experience.

The patter of rain on our tents greeted us at 6 the next morning.  By
6:30, the light shower had passed and we were able to emerge from our
tents to check out what kind of day we'd have.  Though the sky was gray up
toward the summit, the makai skyline was brighter, giving us hope
we'd have a decent day to hike.

And we did.  We were packed up and on our way up the trail to the summit
at 7:30.  The earlier rain made the trail a bit muddy, but on the whole it
wasn't bad. Just like the day before, we hiked leisurely, arriving at the
summit at 9:00.  The summit crest was clear and a brisk breeze swirled up
the pali from Waihee Valley below us.  I pointed out to Bill the wrong-way
ridge in the crossover section toward Manana and, looking in the
opposite direction, the broad flat-topped summit plateau of Waimalu middle
ridge.  I also made an entry in a logbook someone had left in a bottle at
the summit.  Perusing other entries in the book, I spotted a handful of
familiar names.

Bill had never made a summit crossing in this section of the Koolaus, so
he was a bit unsure of what to expect.  As I've done with others in the
past, I rehashed the maxim of summit hiking:  If you have to fall, fall to
the right (the left, in this case, being the sheer windward pali).  Bill
laughed nervously at my words.

The crossover to Waiau is brief, only taking about fifteen minutes, but
it's one of the windier summit stretches.  Upon arriving at the heavily
ribboned Waiau terminus junction, I stopped to plant the stalk of a red ti
plant I'd obtained on a lower section of Waimano.  Hopefully, the
plant will grow and flourish there and be a marker of this location for
future generations of hikers.

Bill and I made our way down Waiau Ridge and really enjoyed the upper
section of the trail, which is still wide open from the TM the club did
back in mid-October. The footing was also excellent, with no mud.   About
midway down, the trail became brushier, and I recognized this as the
section where the TM crew started pushing thru due to fatigue and time
limitations.  Nonetheless, Bill and I had no problem hiking with our bulky
packs.

We ate lunch at the junction with Brandon Stone's trail down to the old
cabin by Waimano Stream.  There's not much of a trail to speak of but I
recognized the telltale double ribbons marking the spot.  Plus, a visual
reckoning told me the spur heading down to the stream had to be the one.

After lunch, we continued down the ridge, arriving at the Big Dip.  I
pointed out Wing's rescue spot and also the point where I had stopped to
yell out for him a couple hours before he summoned Fire Rescue to pluck
him out.  We passed the junction with the trail down into Waimalu Valley
and then began the notorious rollercoaster middle section of Waiau.  This
wasn't fun, especially since the heat of the day intensified, but taking
one hill at a time, we progressed toward our final destination.

Further down, we met a lone male dayhiking up from Kaahumanu.  The guy
told Bill that the rest of the way was all downhill, but I told Bill that
this statement was false.  In fact, we still had several big hills to
climb.  "This is one helluva downhill," I yelled to Bill as we huffed our
way up every ascent we encountered on the way out.

I found the new Halapepe Nui trail that connects Waiau to Waimano and
hiked it for a short stretch.  The club will conduct its maiden hike on
this route on April 28.  Check it out, HTMC members.

The final section of Waiau follows a jeep road, which leads to a
watertank and then a paved road down to the end of Kaahumanu Street.
Prior to reaching Kaahumanu, Bill called Donna via cell phone and she said
she'd drive up to pick us up.  Along this final stretch, I spotted a black
rabbit, likely a pet someone let go, dashing off into the brush.

Donna was delayed by afternoon traffic, so Bill and I walked down
Kaahumanu. Next to the curb about a quarter-mile down, we found a turtle
crawling along the road.  Bill took a liking to it and decided he wanted
to take it home as a pet.  So he took a towel out of his pack, wet it
down, wrapped the turtle in it, and stuffed the towel-covered turtle in
his pack.

So earlier, I'd spotted a rabbit and now Bill had a turtle.  Maybe we'd
interrupted a race between the tortoise and the hare?  Ok, sorry, bad joke.
:-)

To my surprise, a security guard was on duty at the shack at the start of
the gated community of upper Kaahumanu.  I approached the shack slowly,
thinking the guard might read me the riot act for hiking out of the area
past his post.  But he was a nice guy and said hikers are allowed access
in vehicles past the security post as long as they leave their name and
the guard records the license number of the car.  Good deal.

Bill and I hiked down to Waiau District Park and kicked back in the shade
of a large tree as near us Little Leaguers practiced fielding grounders
and teenaged soccer players honed their kicking skills in a massive green
expanse.  A few minutes later, Donna arrived and presented us with
super-sized soft drinks and hot dogs.  Without pause, Bill and I scarfed
these down.  Thank you, Donna!

So ended our overnight trip.  In all, we covered about 15 miles and
enjoyed decent weather.  Though this route can be done as a dayhike, using
it as an overnight backpack trip was a pleasant and interesting variation
that others might want to try.

--dkt

Haleakala, Holua, Waikau cabin site

Date:   Mon, 26 Mar 2001 14:06:26 -1000
From:   nota yahoo <notayahoo50@hotmail.com>
Subject: Waikau overnight  

After hiking down the Halemauu trail I turned left on the unmaintained trail 
that leads across Koolau gap to the old Waikau cabin site and up to re-join 
the Halemauu trail near Bottomless Pit. This trail makes lots of twists and 
turns through the very rough lava fields.

With the normal situation of hiking in the clouds it is very easy to lose 
your sense of direction and even to lose the trail. One area was covered by 
what looked like a lichen(?) forest. All the lava was covered by the gray 
stuff, which was from one to three inches high, and occasionally green. I 
was looking for some large pine trees I was told were at the cabin site but 
found they had been blown down long ago.

As I set up my tent it began to rain lightly, after I was all set it rained 
more heavily and began to get dark. I was snug in my tent, having put on dry 
longjohns and enjoyed my dinner. Later that night I had to go out despite 
the cold and the prospect of putting on wet shoes. I was rewarded with a 
clear night sky and as I gazed at the beauty of the stars I momentarily 
forgot that I was standing in freezing cold weather with wet freesing cold 
shoes on.

In the morning I was not able to light my Esbit fuel tab. I had left it out 
all night and it seemed to have absorbed moisture and frozen, also my 
lighter ran out of fuel. So I decided to pack up, hike awile and have a cold 
breakfast. The puddles around my tent from the rain at night was frozen and 
the tent floor had to be broken free, this required my hands to be re-warmed 
a couple of times as I folded up the tent.

Again the trail was unmaintained but now the sky was clear with the lava 
formations looking like castles & other impressive structures against the 
back drop of the early morning lighted walls of Haleakala Crater.

At Mamane hill I stopped to dry out my gear & eat breakfast, just relaxing 
in the quite & solitude. Once back on the main trail I exchanged good 
mornings with hikers headed in to the crater.

At Holua I had a snack and while trying to enjoy the quiet I was diturbed by 
some loud yahooing in the distance. Since I was annoyed I decided that this 
is where the derogatory term Yahoos came from. I then decided not to be 
annoyed, that these Yahoos were just expressing their appreciation for the 
beauty of the wilderness.

I then proceeded up the old switchback trail. This was a first for me and a 
good work out. The bottom portion is completly wiped out so it is a straigt 
up affair. The switchback portion is littered with large rocks and goes up 
at at a good angle almost all the way to the parking lot. I tryed to 
memorize the junction so I can take it down next time.

This was a great short trip and I look forward to some longer explorations 
of this area.

Waikane, Kaaumakua

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.

Roll call: Mabel Kekina, Bill Gorst, Deetsie Chave, Connie & Gordon
Muschek, Pat Rorie, Larry Oswald, Kris Corliss, Mike Algiers, Helene
Sroat, Dick & Brenda Cowan, Charlotte Yamane, Cera Sunada, Grant Oka,
Georgina Oka, Ed Gilman, Peter Kempf, Tom Yoza, Ken Suzuki, Carole
K. Moon, June Miyasato, Nathan Yuen, Carmen Craig, Pat Enomoto, Mel
Yoshioka, Ralph Valentino, Reuben Mateo, Dayle Turner.  Hats off to the
gang.

Next Sunday, the TM outing will be Pu'u Ohulehule.  Meeting time is 8
a.m. at the parking lot on the mauka side of Kam Hwy across from Kahana
Bay Beach Park.

--dkt

Kulepeamoa, Kupaua, Kuliouou West

Today, the crew worked on the Kulepeamoa Ridge trail, part of the Hawaii
Loa trail, and the crossover on the summit between the two for an upcoming
(3/25) HTMC hike.

As it always is, the starting place for the outing was in Niu Valley at
the end of Anolani Street.  We started at 8 and on hand were Mabel Kekina,
Jay Feldman, Ken Suzuki, Carole K. Moon, Ralph Valentino, Grant Oka,
Georgina Oka (16!), June Miyasato, Dick & Brenda Cowan, Connie & Gordon
Muschek, Ed Gilman, Peter Kempf, Tom Yoza, Ken Mankhoff (78!), Brandon
Stone, Kay Lynch, Karen, Karen's boyfriend, Karen's boyfriend's brother
(didn't get the names of these two), Jason Sunada, and I.

Also doing trail work for the club (Kawaewae Ridge overlooking
Kaneohe) were Dusty Klein and Steve Brown.  Around noon, I made
walkie-talkie contact with Dusty. Soon afterward, I tried radioing
someone on the HTMC Pupukea to Laie hike but did not hear a response (I
once made contact with Mike Algiers via walkie-talkie when I was at the
Poamoho summit and he at the Kuliouou summit, so I knew connecting at such
a distance was possible).

Today's weather was of the spectacular variety, with clear summits and a
brisk, nippy breeze.  The winds were so gusty at times that I had to
remove my cap for fear of having it blow off into oblivion. The net result
of capless hiking: a sunburn.  Ouch.

Most of the crew ascended Kulepeamoa Ridge while a smaller group started
at the head of Hawaii Loa and went up and around that way.  With just
a half mile between ridges, both groups could easily see (and hear,
by whoops) each other.

I hung near the back of the Kulepeamoa-ascending group and got to talking
with Jason, who told me about a descent into the valley on the right
(Kupaua--lit. "upright clam") a few years ago during his "adventurous
days."  On the way up Kulepeamoa, Jason tried to pinpoint the place where
he'd headed down into Kupaua but couldn't be certain.  The spur that
looked like the likeliest candidate looked messy and unpleasant.

Further up, we came to a forested saddle between two hills.  At that
point, we poked around on the right and found a (pig?) trail contouring
along the base of the upslope hill.  Along this contour, we spotted
some cut branches and that was encouraging, so we ventured further
until the path began descending the crest of a spur ridge.  At that
point, I said something like, "So shall we?"  and Jason said something
like, "I'm game."

So down we went.

The upper section of the spur wasn't too steep and populated with
just enough guava for abundant handholds but not so much to create
messy blockades.  Further down, we had to resort to hunching over and
doing maneuvers akin to a duck walk to get by guava.  Luckily, there was
no uluhe. In 15-20 minutes, we had lost 700 feet of elevation to arrive in
the dry bed of Kupaua Stream, overgrown with vegetation.

We made our way downstream, looking for a landslide on the far
bank.  During his adventurous days, Jason had climbed up this landslide
and had found a zigzag trail up through guava to ascend to the crest of
Kuliouou's west ridge.  We found the landslide, climbed it, pushed
briefly through some thick vegetation, then came to a more open area of
guava.  Sure enough, trails zigged and zagged along the slope.  Jason
thought these were hunter trails but I thought they were made by
pigs.  Whatever they were, these led us up to Kuliouou West, where
we topped out in an ironwood grove.

In the ironwoods, we found a shady spot and sat down to rest for ten
minutes.  In the past year, Jason had hiked part of Kuliouou West with Jim
Pushaw, Bill Gorst, Jay Feldman and others, and he thought we were
downridge of the spot where he and the others had crossed over from
Kuliouou's middle ridge (he was correct and later pointed out where the
crossover junction was). 

After our rest, we began up Kuliouou West, which was dry and
relatively open initially and uluhe-covered higher up.  Fortunately, the
swath from last year's trek was still intact through the uluhe.  Also
recognizable were old ribbons and lopper cuts by Wing from his successful
circumnavigation of Kuliouou a couple years ago.  Good work, La Wingo.

After a steep final section, Kuliouou West merged with Kuliouou Middle at
the uppermost of two cable sections on the middle ridge.  From there,
Jason and I hiked to the Koolau summit in ten minutes and sat down to eat
lunch at just about high noon.

Up to this point, no one from the crew seemed to realize we had gone off
exploring.  I thought that if anyone would eventually check on us, it'd be
Tom Yoza, a man who is big on head counts and keeping track of
folks.  Sure enough, during lunch Tom radioed, asking for our whereabouts.
The conversation went something like this:

Tom:  Dayle, what is your location?

Me:  Jason and I are sitting down to eat lunch.

Tom: Are you coming up? (he thought we were still coming up Kulepeamoa).

Me: We already are up.

Tom: On the summit?

Me: Yes.

Tom: Whereabouts?

Me: About a mile east of you.

Druing the radio conversation, we could see Tom standing on the summit of
Kulepeamoa and I'm sure at that point he shifted his gaze to the east to
look for Jason and I sitting atop the summit of Kuliouou middle/west.

>From our vantage point, we could see hikers making their way along the 
summit from Hawaii Loa toward Kulepeamoa.  Jason, using his binoculars,
verified that these were Ken, Georgina, Carole, et al.  Toward the end of
our 30-minute lunch, we saw members of the Kulepeamoa team heading across
toward Hawaii Loa.

At 12:30, Jason and I departed the Kuliouou west summit to cross to
Kulepeamoa.  This section was overgrown with clidemia and uluhe but wasn't
hard to push through.  Plus, the trail was mudfree, a welcome contrast to
the quagmire I'd hiked in the day before (Alewa Ridge).  We'd
thought we'd need 45 minutes to make the crossing, which includes a
steady, grinding, final climb, but 30 is all it took.  Good deal.

Resting at the Kulepeamoa summit were Ken, Connie, June, Georgina and
Carole.  They had come over from Hawaii Loa and would be heading down
Kulepeamoa.  Jason and I followed them down, and we all made an unrushed
descent on a sunny, pleasant afternoon.

We all made it back down to Anolani Street without a major hitch (Carole
did have sore feet), and we enjoyed refreshments ala Mabel. Superb

Next week Sunday, the crew will be working on the Waikane Trail up to the
KST and Pu'u Kaaumakua.  Meeting time is 8 a.m. at the parking lot of
Waikane Beach Park, located on the makai side of Kam Hwy a bit past
Waiahole Valley Road.  New volunteers are welcome.

--dkt

Mo'ole, Alewa Ridge, Lanihuli, Kekoalele

Thirteen members joined me today for an HTMC hike in upper Nuuanu.
Hikers included Arnold Fujioka, Dave Webb, Dave Waller, Deb Kuster, Rich
Jacobson, Ed Gilman, Pat Enomoto, Hiroshi Sakae, Tom Anderson, Don Piburn,
Janice Nako-Piburn, Ben McBride, and Gary Christal.  Wing Ng also showed
up and was hiking unofficially.  There were two last minute drop-outs.

First off, thanks are extended to Pat and Wing who helped with the vehicle
shuttle from Puiwa Road in lower Nuuanu to our starting point by the
hunter check-in at the top of Nuuanu Pali Drive.  We began hiking at just
about 8 on the dot, and just like this past Wednesday we were joined by
the same Waianae bowhunter.

After we entered the forest, I stopped to brief the group about the hike
and in particular reminded them about one-at-a-time-on-a-cable protocol
and carefulness when climbing one after another, especially in areas with
loose rock.  In 15 minutes, we had reached the tunnel, where most stopped
to dig out flashlights from their packs (I recommended that each bring a
light). We sloshed our way through the tunnel and folks commented how
interesting it was to have something different like this as part of the
hike.  In about five minutes, we all were through the rocky portal and we
then proceeded up Hillebrand Glen (aka Mo'ole Valley). Wing had fallen
behind by this point, and we would not see him again for the rest of the
day.  Ditto for the hunter, who, on the way to the tunnel, had peeled off
from our group to make his way off-trail in search of pua'a.

We moved cautiously but steadily up the valley, hiking in the stream at
times and contouring high above it to avoid large waterfalls at
others.  At one fairly large falls, where there is a long rope on the
right, half a dozen of us found a way on the left to get past the falls. 

Without incident, we reached the junction where we would leave the valley
and then began the climb up to Alewa Ridge.  The wind was blowing with
decent strength today and not once did it rain.  High clouds blocked out
the impact of the sun, making for pleasant hiking conditions.

After the 15-minute climb to Alewa Ridge, we all turned right to climb to
Pu'u Lanihuli, at 2,700 feet one of the higher peaks in the eastern
Koolaus.  The trail to it was muddy, and after we went up then down
Lanihuli, there'd be no doubt about our presence on this day.   We spent
about half an hour at the summit, with clear views to windward (Kaneohe &
Kaneohe Bay) and leeward (Nuuanu extending makai to downtown
Honolulu). While sitting down to rest, I tried radioing HTMC Waimanalo
(clubhouse day), but heard no response.

A bit past 10:30, the group, seemingly a bit angsted and roaring to go,
had saddled up and  begun the descent of Alewa Ridge to its eventual
junction with Kekoalele Ridge at Napu'umaia.  This segment of the hike
went smoothly and quickly.  At one point, I whooped out down into Mo'ole
to see if I'd net a response from La Wingo.  Sure enough, a whoop rang out
in return.  It seems that Wing had made it a good way up the valley and
likely would be successful in eventually acquiring Alewa Ridge via the
same trail we had used.  I'm sure he'll post his report later tonight.

A few minutes past noon, we had reached the junction with Kekoalele Ridge
and was heading down it.  Rich and Ed, who'd hiked the route with me on
Wednesday, were out in front guiding the bulk of the group on the
descent.  I hung back as sweep and spent most of the time hiking with Dave
Webb and Gary.  Dave, who's a teacher at Mililani High, and I talked about
the impending strikes we both are facing.  At a pleasant section along a
dike with nice view, Dave and I stopped to rest and eat lunch.  Dave is
planning a backpack trip up Mauna Loa later this month, and we talked
about that a bit.

Via walkie-talkie communication with Rich, I heard that the leaders were
out at Country Club Road by 1 p.m. Hiking near the back of the group, I
waited for the last person, who arrived at the park on Puiwa Road at
1:30. Later, when I drove up Pali Highway to the point where we'd started,
I saw Wing's car was still there.  I left a note on his windshield, asking
that he call me when he makes it back to his vehicle.  It's 3:30 p.m. as
I'm typing this.  That's still early.  He has three more hours of
daylight. I'm sure he'll make it.

Overall, a successful hike it was.  Most, including I, was surprised by
how soon we all were finished.  To me, how fast we finished isn't
important; that we all had a good time and finished without a mishap is.

Go HTMC!

--dkt