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    

Mo'ole, Lanihuli, Kekoalele

Today, Rich Jacobson, Peter Kempf, Jason Sunada, Ed Gilman, and I covered
the route to be hiked for this Saturday's HTMC outing which I'll
coordinate.  I hiked part of the route this past Saturday but felt a need
to cover the whole thing prior to make sure ribbons were up at key points
along the way.  And it was good that we hiked the whole deal because
there were places folks might go astray without today's ribbons and trail
bashing.  Amen.

We left a car (Ed's) at the park on Puiwa Road which is just mauka of
Queen Emma Summer Palace and then drove up to our hike's starting point at
the upper end of Nuuanu Pali Drive.  We started hiking at 8:30 and were
joined by a Waianae bow hunter, who was unfamiliar with the area and
wanted to tag along.  On the way to the ditch tunnel into Mo'ole Valley,
Jason said he and the hunter spotted three baby pigs. This apparently was
a good sign for the hunter, who did not follow us through the tunnel,
ankle-deep in water for most of its ~100 meters. 

Once in Mo'ole, we headed upstream, following the route used in past
forays there.  Because of rain the night before, we faced more slippery
conditions than I had had on Saturday. At a place where there was a
rockslide, we put up an orange rope for security.

We made it past the seven falls of the valley without incident and then
commenced the steep climb on the left to Alewa Ridge.  Halfway up the spur
from the valley, we stopped to check out the view of Honolulu urbandom,
framed by the spreading funnel of the walls of Mo'ole. While we were on
the ascent, Peter's cell phone chimed, and he stopped for a minute to chat
with whoever had called.  After the call was completed, I jokingly needled
him for the idle chitchat that distracted us from the business at
hand.  With the views and phone calls taken in, we crested out on Alewa
Ridge at 10:30, two hours after setting out.

>From the ridgetop junction, four of us made the muddy ~20-minute climb to
Pu'u Lanihuli.  I noted heavy pig damage to the trail about half the way
to the top.  The pigs, it seems, do not fancy climbing all the way to
Lanihuli.  I'm not sure why since no physical obstacles prevent them from
doing so. Maybe they're not into the views.

With the summit acquired, we ate lunch there (peanuts and vienna sausage
for me), ogling occasional vistas of the windward side when clouds allowed
them. Just like Saturday, I spotted my house in Kaneohe, which garnered
only lukewarm interest by my colleagues. Jason and I talked about an
upcoming HTMC TM outing of Kawaewae Ridge (aka Dusty's Ridge), one of the
many features we could see from our summit vantage point.

When a drizzle shower arrived, we quickly packed up and headed down the
slippery trail.  In 20 minutes we had rejoined our non-summiting colleague
and then commenced down Alewa Ridge.  En route to the top of the
Kapalama Loop, we passed several noteworthy places, including a junction
where Rich and Henry had climbed up from Mo'ole on a past hike, a narrow
dike section (I call this "Straddle Ridge"), a lunchspot used on HTMC
hikes of the Kapalama Loop, and the junction with Brandon Stone's spur
trail down to Mo'ole.

At the top of Kapalama Loop (an old wooden sign is affixed there), we
veered left to head down its Nuuanu side.  We passed a bamboo grove on the
right, contoured up and around a small pu'u, traversed a fairly level
section through uluhe, then climbed to the top of Napu'umaia, a large
hill.  Near the highest point of Napu'umaia, we veered left on an
overgrown trail to descend Kekoalele Ridge, which bottoms out adjacent to
the Oahu Country Club. To channel hikers from Saturday's group down
Kekoalele, Jason and I stacked a blockade of dead uluhe across the loop
trail. I also affixed several ribbons there.

The initial descent of Kekoalele was messy (with a capital M), and we had
to wade around in uluhe at times to find the correct line. At one point,
Ed said, "I feel like I'm about to plunge into a deep hole."  A couple
minutes later--bingo--a-plunging Ed went, landing him in a hole obscured
by thick uluhe (fortunately he was unhurt).  After navigating and marking
a line through the Mess, we veered right and down into a dark guava hollow
then climbed gradually to go left around an eroded dike.  After that, most
of the "trail" down the ridge was generally obvious, with occasional old
ribbons still hanging to help.  I hung more ribbons, mostly for assurance
value and also to direct folks to the best lines.  About an hour down the
ridge, Jason and I stopped at a section of rocky dikes with a nice view of
the neighborhood where Ralph Valentino (HTMC good-guy) lives.

Like the top, the bottom of the ridge was a bloody mess.  Since the last
time I'd been there (a year ago?), someone had cut down large trees with a
chainsaw.  The fallen timber wasn't moved and effectively obscured what
was already a fairly obscure trail.  With ample searching, hacking, and
ribbon tying, we forged a hikeable route through the obscurity to emerge
next to the maintenance area of the Oahu Country Club.  Mission
accomplished.

We were back at Ed's car at the park on Puiwa Road by 2:45 and by 3:00 I
was in my Cherokee on the way home to Kaneohe.  Much thanks to Jason, Ed,
Rich, and Peter for hiking with me today.  While we didn't do much
clearing, the stamping down of the trail we did will be helpful to club
hikers on Saturday.

--dkt

Waimano Pool, Mo'ole Stream, Lanihuli, Brandon Stone's spur ridge

I have to lead a hike in upper Nuuanu for the club next Saturday, so I
wanted to cover the route to put up ribbons and make sure things were
okay.  While I like to have a few others with me when I do these
hike-thrus, everyone else had other plans or preferences (many folks were
helping to clear the Kipapa trail today), so I ended up solo. 

This morning at 8, I swung over to the trailhead at the top of Nuuanu Pali
Drive.  Steve Poor had indicated he would join me unless the surf on the
north shore was up (it was), so when 8:15 arrived and Mr. Poor hadn't, I
knew he was likely out in the lineup at Waimea or some other wave-riding
venue.  The weather wasn't looking pretty in Nuuanu, with blustery winds
propelling drizzly sheets of rain.  And with Steve a no-show, I wasn't
enthused about going out alone.

So what would be Plan B?  It was too late to blitz over to meet the folks
doing Kipapa, so that was out.  However, the club had a hike on the
schedule today (Waimano Pool), and I figured that wouldn't get started
till 9, so factoring the time it would take me to drive over to Pacific
Palisades, that option was do-able.  So Pearl City bound I headed.

Gathered at the end of Komo Mai Drive were about twenty hikers, the
overwhelming majority females, most whom I hadn't met or if so, only in
passing.  I did know several of the gatherees, including Mabel, Fred
Casciano, George Shoemaker, Clayton Kong, Andree Paradis, Joyce Tomlinson
(hike coordinator), Janice Nako-Piburn, and Justin Ohara.   While
listening to Joyce's no-pets/firearms/radios manifesto, I noticed that the
upslope conditions were gray and ominous.  "Let's hope for no rain," I
thought.

The hike to the pool isn't a long one and in about an hour we had reached
it, which I've seen with much more water.  Because of the cold, overcast
pall, and perhaps because of Janice's pre-hike warning about
leptospirosis,  no one was up for a swim. In fact, some just lingered a
few minutes then headed back up the trail and back to the cars.  Instead
of following everyone up, I took a diversionary trip downstream for a few
minutes then picked up a splinter trail through strawberry guava to get
back to the main up/down route to the stream. 

I ground out the hike up cardiac hill (Mabel's term) then hiked back to my
car, declining Justin's hospitable offer of fruits and drinks.  On the
drive back on H-1, I noticed the weather situation in upper Nuuanu had
improved.  Maybe I'd still have a chance to scout out the next Saturday's
route after all.  So I drove up Pali Highway and yes, indeed, the weather
was much better than a few hours earlier.  Feeling much better about
hiking solo under improved conditions, I parked by the hunter check-in,
shouldered my pack, grabbed my hiking stick, and dashed across Pali
Highway to the start of the trail.

A few steps into the forest, I noticed 8 to 10 young black pigs rooting
near a hau thicket about 20 yards away.  I stood silently, watching them
for a minute, and then the wind shifted, and, boom, one of them caught my
scent (ripe from the earlier hike, no doubt).  That started na pua'a on a
fleeing bolt through the forest away from me--a pig stampede, as it
were.  After the keiki pua'a dispersed into their muddy realm, I scanned
the area for mama pua'a, who might likely be pissed off that I had
frightened her youngens.  Seeing nada mama, I continued on.

Moving quickly as I am wont to do, I noticed ribbons on the ground. So
instead of tying new ones, I picked up the ripped down ones and re-tied
them to mark the way, which is jumbled and confusing.  Luckily, I've hiked
in this area several times, so I knew the general direction to head if I
lost the trail.  After a few minutes, the path descended a slope to cross
a tiny stream (Makuku) then climbed a narrow gully to emerge on a trail
along the Makuku Ditch. I continued to pick up and re-tie discarded
ribbons and noticed that someone had come through and sawed fallen trees
since my last hike in the area.  

The trail followed the ditch for maybe a half-mile and ended at a
tunnel.  The ditch fronting the tunnel often is muddy (usually very
muddy), but today it was bone dry.  I poked my head into the tunnel and
saw that the ground in it too was as dry as my skin on a windy day.  Going
thru the 100-yard tunnel is the quickest way to reach Hillebrand Glen (aka
Mo'ole Valley), but I was without flashlight and not in the mood to duck
thru the 6-foot-high tunnel in darkness.  So I made the short climb up and
over the ridge the tunnel cuts thru and descended via a contour trail to
the tunnel's farside in the Glen.

>From there, I followed a rough trail that headed up a trickling Mo'ole
Stream.  In a minute or two, I came upon a small waterfall and climbed up
a slope on the right to get by it.  I continued upstream for a bit more
and then again climbed up on the right to begin a bypass of a much larger
waterfall ahead.  There are many ribbons from past visits on the contour
bypass, so the way is easy to follow.  At one point, I stopped to do some
grading on a section that had been swept away by a rockslide.

Eventually, the high waterfall was passed and I descended back to the
stream, noting multiple pig scat and areas pigs have damaged. I continued
upstream, hiking mostly on the banks and crossing the stream
occasionally.  I then came upon another waterfall that I bypassed on the
left.  Upstream progression continued and I climbed to the right of yet
another waterfall with the help of a long rope.  Later, I bypassed another
very high waterfall via a steep climb on the right.  On a past hike, we
put a cable in one section of the bypass. 

After descending back to the stream and heading up it a bit, I arrived at
the point on the left where I could climb a steep trail up to Alewa
Ridge.  Pat and I pounded our way up this route a couple of years ago and
though hikers have gone up this since then, the numbers have been
relatively low.  Add the passing of time and a good deal of rain, and what
you have is a ridge that needs to be pounded open again.  I did what I
could on the way up, knowing there was only so much a single machete can
do. 

I reached the crest of severely windswept Alewa Ridge and paused a minute
to drink some water (I had eaten lunch on the drive over from Pearl City
so I wasn't hungry--hunger would come later).  I then dropped my pack and
then headed to the summit of Lanihuli via an overgrown trail.  I crested
out in 20 minutes on a cloudfree summit.  The wind was still blasting, and
I was without jacket, so I quickly scanned civilization below to find my
house in Kaneohe, and having found it, or what my mind told me was it, I
departed and began descending.

In twenty minutes, I had returned to where I'd left my pack.  I gave
thought to returning the way I'd came, but opted to continue makai on
Alewa Ridge and descend back to lower Moole via Brandon Stone's spur ridge
trail.   That meant traversing the once-vaunted straddle ridge (now it
doesn't seem bad at all), passing the junction with Kamanaiki Ridge (I'd
hiked up to this junction with Wing a few years ago), and then the
arriving at the junction with Brandon's trail.  This was also overgrown
but became more manageable lower down.  Once at the base of the spur
ridge, I was able to weave my way through a jumble of pig and hunter
trails to arrive back at the tunnel at the end of Makuku Ditch.  From
there, it was a routine hike back to Pali Highway and my car at the end of
Nuuanu Pali Drive.  After a shower at home, I was ravenous, and I prepared
myself a sumptuous meal, the kind that would make Wing pine for his
favorite beef broccoli noodles.

As a postscript, I've decided to return to put up some additional ribbons
and do a bit more clearing this Wednesday.  I hope some of the
Wednesday hiking gang can join me.

--dkt