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
Wednesday, March 7, 2001
Mo'ole, Lanihuli, Kekoalele
Saturday, March 3, 2001
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
Monday, February 26, 2001
Koolau summit trail, Pupukea, Laie
The subject line reveals what we worked on for yesterday's HTMC trail
maintenance outing, which has to rank up there with the longest and
toughest I've been involved with. Three ways were used to access the
Koolau Summit Trail: the end of Pupukea Rd, the Kahuku Trail, and the Laie
Trail. By day's end, exit routes included Pupukea, Malaekahana, and Laie.
We met a half hour earlier than usual (7:30) at the Laie ballpark and from
there, the majority loaded into a couple trucks for the drive over to
Pupukea. In the meantime, the remainder would hike to the KST via Laie or
Kahuku trails. The weather report for the day mentioned the possibility
of thundershowers, so I kept an eye on the sky for any approaching gray
masses. Except for a misty sprinkle a couple of times, nada on the
thundershowers.
By 10, the Laie team (Ed, Thomas, Dusty, Roger, and I) was at the KST and
hacking away (the crew had cleared Laie a couple months ago and it is
still in good shape). Roger had lugged up a gas-powered hedge trimmer but
it malfunctioned and ended up being just dead weight he had to shoulder
all day. Our main objective was to clear the .75-mile section between
Laie and Malaekahana, and, if time and energy permitted, as much as we
could toward Pupukea beyond Malaekahana. Via walkie-talkies, we kept in
contact with the Kahuku (Jay, Bill, and Steve) and Pupukea teams, the
latter which included happy hiking couples Larry & Kris, Mike & Helene,
Jason & Cera along with Pat, Carmen, Georgina, Ken, Carole, June,
Ralph. Pat (a man possessed, according to eyewitness accounts) and Larry
used a hedge trimmer and chain saw, respectively, while the others used
machetes, sickles, and loppers. Additionally, Mabel, John, Connie, and
Gordon worked on the lower section of the Malaekahana trail, which made
the afternoon exit easier for those who went out that way.
The first of the Pupukea team reached its start-clearing point (pu'u
1860) at 9:30. Making their way up to the same pu'u was the three-man
Kahuku Trail team. They arrived around 11. Prior to leaving the ball park
in the morning, Larry, who along with Kris will coordinate the club hike
on 3/11, indicated that ideally everyone heading south on the KST from
pu'u 1860 should be at the KST/Malaekahana junction by 1:30 to allow for a
timely exit back to the ball park (read: so that they'd be out before
darkness hit). Well, 1:30 came and went and not a soul from the Pupukea
team had yet to arrive at the top of Malaekahana where I had stationed
myself. There was periodic walkie-talkie contact, which included Carmen
screeching out about a close encounter with a black pua'a. When 2:00
rolled around, I, via walkie-talkie, urged members of the Pupukea team to
put away their tools and push through to Malaekahana else they might be
hiking out to the light of the moon.
About 2:20, Bill and Helene were the first of Team Pupukea to reach my
position on the KST about 20 minutes north of Malaekahana. I suggested
that they use Malaekahana as a descent route since some clearing work was
being done in the upper section (by Dusty, Ed, and Roger) and lower
section (by Mabel and company). About ten minutes later, Jason, Cera,
Georgina, and Carmen met me, and I encouraged them to head down
Malaekahana when they reached it. Apparently happy to see me, Georgina
told me I was her favorite person in the whole world, at least for that
moment, and that Mabel would likely replace me as favorite by day's
end. Ahh, how fleeting and fickle is fame.
After thanking Georgina for being the temporary object of her
favorite-ness, I followed her, Jason, Cera, and Carmen back on the muddy
tramp to the Malaekahana junction and watched as they descended that trail
back toward civilization. The Malaekahana trail rolls gently away from
the summit and it's possible to scan the progress of hikers a good way.
While watching Jason and company head down, I waited at the Malaekahana
junction for Thomas, who, in addition to trail work, had to backtrack
toward Laie to retrieve his hiking pole, which he'd dropped along the
way. Not long after he arrived, Thomas and I began the descent of
Malaekahana. This was around 3:30. The upper mile of Malaekahana is
beautiful, with a series of rolling hills with panoramic views available
almost all the while. This upper section parallels the summit, and it's
possible to look mauka and see hikers on the KST. And in fact we did see
four (Pat, Ken, Jay, and Mike) making their way steadily south on the
summit trail. At 4:00, they were the last of the Pupukea/Kahuku team to
reach Malaekahana. Turning around at 3:00, other Pupukea team members
hiked back to Pupukea in just under two hours, taking advantage of the
freshly cleared trail, and then drove back to Laie.
As I hiked down Malaekahana yesterday, I recalled my first trek on it
(with Wing), which included wading through overhead uluhe and avoiding a
deranged rat. Since then I've hiked the trail about a half dozen other
times. One thing I can say about it is that hiking down, though not as
tough as hiking up, provides a damn good Manana-like workout. In the low
saddle segment near a small pool by a large paperbark tree, Tom and I
caught up with Jason, Cera, Georgina, and Carmen. Jason and I then picked
up the pace down the rest of the trail, with Jason at times demonstrating
his superior ridge-descending ability, with me left far back in his wake.
Meanwhile, Tom, always the good shepherd, hiked out with the three
wahines. Like its sister ridges Laie and Kahuku, Malae (for short) has a
lengthy guava section and a lower segment through eroded foothills and
along old jeep roads.
Having avoided an attack by dogs on the dirt road out, Jason and I
arrived back at the Laie ball park at 5:30 and waiting for us there were
Mabel, Ed, Bill, and Helene (Dusty, Roger, Connie, Gordon, and John had
already departed for home). A few minutes later, Ralph, having driven
over from Pupukea, pulled up in his truck. With him were Larry, Kris,
Carole, June, and Steve. At 6:10, Tom, Cera, Georgina, and Carmen hiked
in. A half hour later, just as darkness fell, the final four to arrive
were Pat and Ken, who'd hiked out via Malaekahana, and Mike and Jay,
who'd hiked out via Laie. Mike had placed a "Laie Trail" sign at the
summit junction with the KST to replace a sign that someone had
removed. Thanks to Mike, there are other signs along the KST at Pu'u
1860, and at the top of Malaekahana.
Mabel had refreshments waiting for us and I was thusly and summarily
replaced as Georgina's favorite. After 9.5 hours of hiking and trail work
I was so famished that I decided to temporarily can my low-carb diet and
devour high-carb desserts Mabel (cheesecake) and Jason (brownies) had
made. Mmm, mmm, good. Before we said our good-byes, Ken identified
three planets overhead, and with darkness already having taken hold in
Laie, we made our way home.
Next Sunday (3/4), the maintenance outing will be Papali-Uka. Meeting
time will be 8 a.m. along the mauka side of Kamehameha Hwy by Hauula
Homestead Road.
--dkt
Sunday, February 18, 2001
Pu'u o Kila
Kahana is broad. Kahana is green. Kahana is also home to Pu'u o Kila,
which we hiked to today. Our main objective was to clear a
loop route the club uses to acquire Kila's summit, and 17 turned out to
tend to the task. The members-only club hike will be on Sunday, March 4.
Roll call: Mabel Kekina, Gordon Muschek, Connie Muschek, John Hall, Jay
Feldman, Bill Gorst, Roger Breton, Arnold Fujioka, Grant Oka, Georgina
Oka, Dick Cowan, Peter Kempf, Dusty Klein, Ed Gilman, George Shoemaker,
Tom Yoza, Dayle Turner.
>From the hunter's check-in where we started, Kila is visible toward
the back of the massive maw that is Kahana. Jay, Dusty, Roger, Mabel, and
Connie crossed the dam and headed back on the valley trail to tend to the
left-hand ridge. Meanwhile, a dozen of us headed up the watertank road
then continued down to the stream crossing by the bamboo grove to
eventually reach the right-hand (north) ridge.
Our group encountered a hunter and his dogs by the junction with the start
of the Kila trail. A dark-skinned local guy, he was friendly
and later joined us for posthike refreshments.
The route to Kila was overgrown with uluhe, which wasn't surprising since
Kahana is quite rainy and the trail likely sees light traffic, if any at
all. While our group worked our way up the ridge, we kept in
walkie-talkie contact with Jay, Dusty, and Mabel of the left-hand ridge
team. While I'm respectful in my radio conversations with Mabel, I'm
prone to firing (friendly) insults at Jay and Dusty, and
vice-versa (though I'll admit I'm usually the instigator). Jay, whose
group was using a hedge trimmer, volunteered me to carry it out after they
were done using it. Of course, I balked at the suggestion and rained down
barbs on the glib Mr. Feldman.
Later after lunch, Dusty, in response to jovial hooting and hollering I
was doing while descending from Kila's summit, barked into his
walkie-talkie, "Shaddap and start working!" Dusty has taken to
addressing me as "wimp," especially when I express my dismay for hauling
the hedge trimmer. But it's all in fun (you are just kidding, right,
Dusty?).
Even with all the walkie-talkie insults, we actually did some work. The
majority of the right-hand ridge dozen reached Kila's summit before noon,
slumping down to eat lunch there. Meanwhile, the left-hand team members
had yet to arrive, claiming heavy uluhe overgrowth was slowing their
progress. Via walkie-talkie, we encouraged them to climb to the summit
and leave what was left for our larger group, but Jay and company, perhaps
spurred on by pride, ego and/or the possibility of insults from our group,
stuck to the task. Jay also requested that we dispatch members of our team
down the ridge to help clear, and, ever the loyal helpers, we responded to
his request. :-)
For those who've never hiked to Kila, be prepared for very steep
ascending & descending up to and down from the summit. Ample
trees and roots are available for handholds but dislodged rocks can be a
hazard, especially on the descent of the upper part of the left-hand
ridge.
** Udda stuff **
Around lunchtime, we heard from Charlotte via walkie talkie. She was
assisting friends with an important mission on a nearby ridge. It was
good to hear from her.
Georgina, just 16, hiked impressively today, reaching the summit of Kila
not long after the lead group. The time may soon come when she will power
by me on a ridge ascent, and on that day I will kneel down to salute her
painted-toenail feet.
Georgina's dad, Grant, was on hand after having missed a bunch of
recent Sundays due to work demands. It's always good to have
Grant and his mega-loppers on the trail with us.
Roger and Ed have plans to climb Kipapa Windward (from Waiahole) to the
Koolau summit tomorrow morning then head northbound on the KST to descend
the Waikane trail. While I'd like to join them, I've entered the Great
Aloha Run and will be jogging along with 20K+ folks from Aloha Tower to
Aloha Stadium.
Peter reported having a successful backpack trip to Kalalau recently. A
couple spells of wind and rain put a slight mar on an otherwise pleasant
four days.
After today's outing, George told me about topo map software he has from
delorme.com. I just checked out the website and am giving serious thought
to purchasing software.
Tom is considering exploring Maunawili yet again tomorrow. Anyone
interested in this can email him at tyoza@gte.net
Dick told us his wife Brenda is recovering nicely. We all wish her well.
About a dozen regulars on the TM crew were taking part in a backpacking
outing in the Pahole area of the Waianaes. We look forward to having them
back with us next Sunday, when we tackle the route from Pupukea to
Laie. Meeting time is 8 a.m. at the ballpark in Laie (some will start at
the Pupukea end--contact Mabel and/or Larry & Kris for details).
--dkt
Kealia, Mokuleia, Peacock Flats, Old Peacock Flats Trail
Yesterday morning (2/17/2001), I hiked up the Kealia Trail to meet friends backpacking their way from the Kaena tracking station to Peacock Flats and/or the Mokuleia campsite. I figured to get a workout out of the deal. I got that plus some unanticipated adventure.
I launched from the parking lot by the Dillingham airfield control tower at 9:30, feeling relaxed and energetic after the hour drive from Kaneohe. The switchbacks up the pali were overgrown, perhaps a consequence of the budget/personnel shortcomings of Na Ala Hele.
Once I reached the ridgeline, I kept moving up the dirt road, a steady unrelenting, and at times steep climb up to the rim of Makua Valley. With a nice view into the controversial valley, I paused to rest and scan the rim trail for any signs of my friends. Heading away from me to the left appeared to be Pat Rorie. And coming toward me in the distance was June Miyasato.
I continued alone along the Mokuleia firebreak road toward Peacock Flats and after fifteen minutes I came upon Pat, Cera, and Magnolia at a junction with a lesser used road that descends a ridge to connect to a lower 4x4 road. Cera and Magnolia had been hiking together and, unsure which way to head, stopped at the junction. Pat then came along to give them directions.
I continued ahead of the three and ten minutes later came upon Larry, Kris, Ginger, and Carmen resting at a junction with a road that climbed a slope to the right. The righthand road ascended to an overlook above the abandoned Nike Tracking Station and connected with the Makua Rim Trail. The Mokuleia firebreak road, the other option at the junction, winds in and out of a series of gulches to eventually connect with the paved road leading to Peacock Flats and up to the abandoned Nike Site.
I headed up the righthand road and caught up to Carmen just before the overlook. After a short rest at the overlook, she and I hiked together along the rim trail, bound for the Mokuleia campsite. When we reached the switchback section of the rim trail, she pointed out lobelia plantings she, Charlotte, and others had done during a recent service trip with the Army Environmental folks.
At a beautiful overlook of Makua, we came upon Nathan and Justin, both lugging heavy packs (Justin's was VERY heavy). We hiked with them, still bound for the Mokuleia campsite. We passed sections of trail cleared very nicely by Pat last weekend and later stopped to examine the twin pines that mark the junction with the Piko Trail. Nathan and I looked for a sign affixed to the tree but found none.
We stopped for lunch at the final hilltop before the junction with the trail leading down to the campsite, and I happily and hungrily chowed down on vienna sausage and a powerbar and glugged down a liter of water. During lunch, Carmen displayed her fairly new camelback pack and she, Nathan, and I chatted about techniques for cleaning and drying camelback bladders, an undertaking I usually neglect and that Nathan and Carmen regularly tend to.
A bit before 1, I said goodbye to my friends and headed off. After descending, I passed through the campsite and headed down the trail toward Peacock Flats. Enroute, I met Kay and Brandon, who were off on a dayhike after having set up camp.
A few minutes later, I arrived at the Flats and spent time resting and talking story with the folks there, including Mike, Helene, Larry, Kris, Cera, Myra, June, Carole, Ken, Ralph, and Bev. With no other campers around, HTMC had the run of place and everyone was hopeful for continued good weather for the weekend.
Just past 2:00, I said my farewells and headed out of the Flats. Initially, my plan was to climb the paved road up to the old Nike site, then drop back down to the fire break road and continue on to Kealia. However, not enthused about the ascent up to the Nike site, I opted for Plan B, which was to follow the fire break road and then veer makai down an old jeep road which eventually would hook up with Kealia just mauka of the top of the switchbacks.
After ten minutes of hiking along the firebreak road, I arrived at what I thought was the junction with the old jeep road heading makai. So makai-ward I headed. After a minute or so, I realized that what I was descending was a trail rather than an old road but, using an all-roads-lead-to-Rome analogy, I figured that all makai-heading trails in this area lead to the lower jeep road complex.
How wrong I was.
I kept descending the non-road, spurred on by the presence of a well-used path and an occasional old ribbon or cut branch. "Hunters must use this trail," I reasoned, and as such they surely must have found a way to connect with the old road and/or an adjacent ridge that will lead to the old road.
After a half mile of descending, what had been a trail became less distinct. In fact, the trail all but ended when I reached a 30-foot dropoff. I found a way on the right to skirt the dropoff and continued down the grassy, trail-less ridge. Further down was another dropoff which I again skirted to the right.
The prudent thing to have done was to end the charade that this ridge was going to lead me to the old road or a connecting trail. But stubborness, ego, and a sense of adventure egged me on. Plus it would make for a good story to write about.
Off in the distance, I could see that the ridge would eventually level out in a broad expense of rolling hills and then flatten out at a large banana farm. Already in my mind I was preparing my verbal defense when confronted by owners/workers of the farm. "I'm a poor lost hiker," was one possible spew. "I parachuted from a plane and was blown by the wind into the mountain," was spew two.
Also as I was descending, thoughts of falling, hurting myself, and waiting for rescue popped into my head. I visualized Tom Yoza meticulously scouring every ravine in the area weekend after weekend until finding just the tatters of my red shirt and the blue lanyard with assorted doo-dads I wear around my neck. I also had visions of a pack of huge pua'a grinding my body as I lay helpless and injured (go see the movie *Hannibal* and you may have similar visions).
Well, I didn't fall nor was I devoured, but I did have to spend a good hour wading and swimming through thick buffalo grass until I caught a break and came upon an ancient road that runs across the base of the mountain (a review of the Kaena quad topo indicates that I was on what is labeled as the "Peacock Flats Trail"). Now overgrown with chest-high grass, the road was still apparent and I moved much more easily by following its tread. Finding this meant was that I wouldn't have to cut through the banana farm and if I was lucky, I'd be able to make it all the way back to the Dillingham Airfield without having to pass through a farm or ranch or homestead.
The old road/PFT eventually ended its traverse along the base of the mountain and began climbing up along the side of a ravine toward the top of the pali. No, I certainly didn't want to go back up again, so I hopped over a barbed-wire fence and waded through high grass to make my way toward lower ground.
I weaved through waist-high grass in a forest of haole koa and then happened upon another old jeep road. This road soon ended at a barbed-wire fenceline, which I hopped to continue my wade and weave. My next objective was to make my way under a string of powerlines, thinking a swath or road of some sort would be under it. I made it to the powerlines okay but found nada swath or road.
Still determined to find my way out of the mess, I continued to angle toward lower ground and in the general direction of the airfield until, voila, I stood on a slope looking down on a large paved expanse that probably once was an old landing strip for planes. I made my way down to the old strip and followed it toward Dillingham Airfield.
The old air strip led to a well-used (military?) jeep road that led me to the road that runs along the mauka side of the current airfield. I followed the road to the hangars adjacent to the control tower and then arrived at my car. It was 4:30, 2.5 hours after I'd left Peacock Flats and only a half hour longer than I thought I'd need if I had hiked the route I'd had planned in my mind.
The adventure was a nice tradeoff for the extra 30 minutes. In retrospect, if I had a map with me I'd not have turned off the fire break road to head down the ridge when I did. That being the case, I wouldn't have stumbled (literally) upon the old Peacock Flats trail and hike back to the airfield as I did. This adventure, it seems, was born out of being mapless. And by the end of the day I had completed a loop of about ten miles, never once having to retrace my steps. A nice hike.
--dkt
Sunday, February 11, 2001
Manana, Waiawa, Ahern Ditch
Despite their battered, dirt-stained state, my topo maps are among my most
treasured possessions. One of my favorite pastimes is to spread a topo
on my bedroom floor and trace out with a yellow highlight pen routes
I've hiked. In fact, I just finished inking in a route I, along with a
bunch of HTMC colleagues, hiked and cleared today. Having done that, my
rough calculations indicate we covered 12 miles with an elevation gain of
2600 feet. A decent workout in the mountains it was.
In what may be a surprise to some, we weren't hiking a ridge trail to the
summit of the Koolaus or Waianaes. Indeed, we never came close to a
summit. During the course of the day, we crossed three streams--Manana,
Waiawa South, & Waiawa North; we hiked along an old ditch trail
(Ahern); we climbed to a high point of 1400 feet and descended to a low
of 350; we battled uluhe, ginger, and palm grass; we descended and
ascended muddy, slick slopes; we strolled along motorcycle trails; we
sauntered along old jeep roads.
We also encountered over half a dozen hunters and double the amount of
hunting dogs. Some of us saw (4) pua'a. We all saw many areas damaged by
pigs. A handful temporarily went astray (we refuse to say we're ever
lost). One temporarily misplaced personal items that were
recovered. Some used gas-powered tools to attack encroaching flora; most
used handtools to clear the trails we hiked.
The majority--the cross-country crew--started at the Manana trailhead atop
Pacific Palisades. A smaller group--the covert crew--began hiking from a
locale with problematic access but with quicker access to the
major work area.
Covert crew: Pat, Ed, Ralph, Roger, Thea, Reuben, Bill.
Cross-country crew: Jason, Charlotte, Georgina, Carole, John, Connie,
Nathan, Gordon, Mike, Helene, Kris, Ken, Thomas, Stuart, Carmen, Deetsie,
Dayle.
Since I was with the cross-country crew, I'm in better position to
describe what our day was like. We gathered at the end of Komo Mai Drive
at just before 8, having seen our colleagues in the covert crew
whisked away in two vehicles about twenty minutes prior. Stuart,
who'll coordinate the club outing on 2/25, briefed us on what to expect,
and we were off up the single-lane paved road for about a quarter
mile. At a large metal powerline tower, we turned left off the road and
followed a trail that after an initial level section began descending
steeply to Manana Stream. At a fork a third of the way down, Tom, Jason,
and I opted to descned a steep trail to the right; meanwhile, everyone
else veered to the left to descend and clear a trail that way.
Once at Manana Stream (dry), Tom, Jason, and I crossed it and picked up a
trail on its far bank. The trail, overgrown and damp from the previous
night's precipitation, was still passable, and Tom and I began ascending
it through uluhe, then guava, then low-level dryland vegetation. Jason,
not a big fan of the status quo, decided to climb a vaguely-trailed spur
to our left. In the meantime, the others were heading up a better trail
further downstream (this is the trail that'll be used on the club hike
and the best of the three).
Once the climbs via the various trails were completed, we all, in various
ways, found our way across a grassy, flat-topped mesa to a broad,
powerline-topped spur that filtered down toward Waiawa Stream. In
anticipation of hot, thirsty conditions later on, some of us stashed
water bottles along the trail on the mesa for the afternoon return
leg.
The descent steepened for a couple hundred meters then eased as we made
our way through a grassy meadow along an old fenceline. Ken pointed out a
seemingly out-of-place orchid by the fence. As we approached Waiawa
Stream (south branch), Carole came upon a hunter and his dog. Even though
I wasn't far behind Carole, I didn't see the hunter nor the dog, which had
blood spattered on its face, according to Ms. Moon.
Waiawa South was narrow and gently flowing at its ford. Soon thereafter,
after passing the toe of a prominent middle ridge, we crossed broader
Waiawa North, the main river, just upstream of a large circular pool.
With ribbons from last year's hike removed by some unknown person, we faced
the challenge of finding the trail to ascend out of the gulch to a
junction with the Ahern Ditch trail. Charlotte, who has a nose for such
things, eventually located the trail; meanwhile, I was nearby doing some
"exploratory ascending" through guava, vines, and pig paths (no, I wasn't
lost). :-)
After completing the stiff, sweaty climb from the stream, we regrouped
at the junction with the ditch trail. Snacks of various kinds appeared
and eagerly and thankfully disappeared. Though we had done some work on
the rollercoaster cross-country trek from Palisades, our real labor
commenced on the ditch trail, where we whacked down christmas berry
branches, palm grass, clidemia, ginger, uluhe, et al. As we worked
and hiked, remnants of the now waterless ditch lay to our left.
The ditch trail, cut into the side of a large ridge at the 900-foot
elevation, winds in and out of several clefts in the mountainside. Kukui
trees are plentiful along the trail as were areas rooted out and decimated
by resident pigs. After a mile and a half, the trail entered a crease
between two ridges and switched back to gain a saddle at the crest of the
righthand ridge. At that point, the ditch trail dropped into Waiawa
Valley via switchbacks. At the saddle, we stopped to eat lunch and
chat with a hunter who was tracking his collared dogs in Waiawa Valley
with an electronic device.
The hunter, a friendly man, answered our many questions about his
equipment, his dogs, and his hunting experiences. The senior man in his
crew, he was hunting with several other men and over a dozen dogs. The
dogs had killed at least three pigs in the morning: two babies and a
90-pounder too badly mauled for dressing and hauling out. He had no
problem with us being there. In fact, he especially liked HTMC's
no-dogs-on-hikes policy.
After lunch, we ascended west along the ridgetop (the club no longer
hikes the switchbacks down into Waiawa). We worked hard to clear back
thick patches of uluhe and large lantana plants. After an hour, we
finally made the connection with the covert crew, who'd been
clearing the route the club hikes as a loop in a clockwise direction.
Meetings like these are always happy times, for not only are we glad to
meet friends we've not seen all day, but we also know our
work for the day has ended. And that's a good thing.
Though are chopping work was completed, we all still faced a rugged return
leg to get back to Komo Mai. The group I was with continued around the
loop counterclockwise, admiring the nice clearing job the covert team had
done (way to go, gang). Eventually, we emerged on a motorcycle trail just
seconds after a pack of dirt bikers noisily roared by. The motorcycle
trails, after some initial ups and downs, descended steadily southwest,
with three critical left turns to make to return back to the junction with
the ditch trail.
By my estimate, the loop is about four miles, with a third being
motorcycle trails, a third a graded ditch trail, and a third an ungraded
(but now well-cleared) ridge route. The loop's high point, and in fact
the highest point of the entire hike is 1400 feet. The crossover from
Palisades to the junction with the ditch trail is about two miles and
involves two large descents and ascents. Double that for the roundtrip.
Slippery morning slopes were drier and easier to manage in the
afternoon. Additionally, cool, overcast conditions helped lessen
overheating problems we might have faced on the double-dip crossover back
to Palisades. Stashed bottles of water also didn't hurt.
Worthy of note was that just about every wahine who attended today's
outing didn't go "topless." That should make Jay Feldman proud and/or
envious. Also worthy of note were the steamed hot dogs Mabel served up for
post-work consumption. I had at least six, sans buns, of course.
Next Sunday's TM outing is Pu'u o Kila in Kahana Valley. A significant
percentage of the crew will be participating in the Kuaokala campout next
weekend, so extra hands will be needed to help out with Kila. Meeting
time is 8 a.m. in the parking lot on the mauka side of Kam Hwy across from
Kahana Beach Park. Come on down if you can.
--dkt
Saturday, February 10, 2001
Hunting Miconia in Maunawili
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