Waiakeakua miconia hunt

I know I've had a nice Saturday when among the things I did on it were hiking in a place I've never been; floating peacefully in a pool of a clear, cool mountain stream; talking story with a group of friends while enjoying snacks and cold drinks; and getting a hug and kiss from a pretty young woman.

What am I rambling about? The monthly miconia hunt sponsored by the Sierra Club, of course. I've written about these before as have Charlotte Yamane and Tom Yoza. And we encourage all hikers to turn out for hunts because they're fun, albeit sometimes rugged and strenuous. And the hunts are for a good cause, namely finding and eliminating miconia, the purple-leafed menace, which fortunately hasn't yet made big inroads on Oahu.

For me, the hunts, in addition to the eradication goal, are a good way to grab a workout and do some exploring, two things I relish when hiking. Today, with our targeted search area the east (Koko Head) side of upper Manoa Valley, I got both.

Ten of us turned out this morning, including OHE/HTMC folks Tom Yoza, Kay Lynch, and Stuart Ball. Hoala Fraiolla, Amy Tsuneyoshi, Ray Baker, Ryan Smith, and Randy Ching were the others in our small but interesting cast.

Most OHE list members know Tom, Kay, and Stuart but probably little or nothing about the others. Ho'ala, in her early 20s and a botany student at UH Manoa, is a sweet young woman with an angelic personality. She was the listed leader of today's expedition, and during the pre-hunt spiel, I could sense her nervousness telling us veterans the procedures and the day's plan. But we all were nice and she overcame her nervousness and did fine. Acting as co-leader was Amy, plant propagator at the Board of Water Supply's Halawa Xeriscape Garden. She's a veteran of many hunts, and I'd bet if Amy were to come out hiking with the HTMC, she'd be one of the top wahines in the mountains. A tough cookie, no doubt. Dr Baker, the grounds superintendent for Lyon Arboretum, is an expert on palms and a strong hiker to boot. Ryan, in his mid-20s, is upbeat, energetic and works for the Oahu Invasive Species team. In other words, he hunts miconia and other invasive flora for a living. Randy is a former HTMC member (he says he'll reapply for membership in the future), the Oahu Outings Chair for the Sierra Club, and a math teacher at Maryknoll School. He's also a nice guy who I've hiked with before.

A new twist for miconia hunting was that we each were issued a compass beforehand. Tom gave a brief lesson on orienteering (a former Boy Scout?) and Ryan tested our ability to find a compass bearing by having us turn and face a given direction. Good news: we all passed!

Ryan said the plan was to use the compasses to maintain an established course while hunting. For example, if a bearing of 90 was stated, we'd use our compass to maintain that line and thus the keep the spacing between us.

"Sounds good in theory," I said, smiling while thinking about how the terrain often dictates how well we can maintain our search phalanx.

"Everything sounds good in theory," replied Amy with a chuckle.

As it turned out, I never used my compass during the entire outing. And neither did any of the others on the four-person team I was on. So much, it seems, for theory. On my team, by the way, were Ryan, Tom, and Ray. We ended up searching a ravine I'd never hiked before. The ravine stemmed off to the right (east in this case) of Waiakeakua Stream just makai of the Gladstone Wright Memorial Stone. Tom and I focused on the left side of the ravine and Ray and Ryan the right. Meanwhile, Amy and Ho'ala led the others in a systematic sweep of an area west of us between Waiakeakua Stream and Waaola Stream. In the end, no one found any miconia, a good result.

The day was a humid scorcher, and by lunch time my shirt and pants were soaked with perspiration as if I'd just emerged from a swimming pool. I achieved this soaked state as a result of a couple hours of grunting and clawing my way up a spur ridge to the Wa'ahila/Olympus trail. After reporting my whereabouts via walkie-talkie to my teammates, I sat down (more like collapsed) to eat and rest at a clearing often used as a rest stop by Wa'ahila hikers. In fact, when I stepped onto the clearing, a haole couple was resting there. As one might guess, they were surprised to see me appear in a spot where no trail existed and, of course, they were curious about what I'd been doing and where I'd come from. So I told them about the hunts, and they expressed interest in volunteering for one in the future. I hope they do.

No less than a dozen hikers went by as I sat in the clearing for lunch. Later, after I was finished eating my cottage/tuna/curry goulash, I hiked down the Wa'ahila trail because I was too sapped to head back down the spur ridge I'd climbed. As I hiked along, I saw that the trail up Wa'ahila is being well-used and is open. Good deal.

Arriving at a signed junction, I headed down the Kolowalu trail, noticing a typo "Kolowalo" on the Na Ala Hele trail sign. I came upon seven more hikers huffing their way up Kolowalu. I give them credit, since Kolowalu is a lung-buster to ascend, even moreso given today's hot mugginess. From Kolowalu, I hiked along the Pu'u Pia trail for ten minutes then descended a steep "trail" to return to Waiakeakua Stream.

Still dripping with perspiration, I figured I'd cool off by way of a dip in a pleasant little pool a minute makai of the Gladstone Wright Memorial. Arriving at the pool, I took off my daypack, fanny pack, and shirt. Then, kaboom, in I plopped, the cold water of the pool infusing energy into my tired, overheated body. Feeling the heat from my body core plummeting pleasantly, I just floated there. I don't know how long I lounged in the pool, maybe just fifteen minutes. But the time spent was wonderful, and I daydreamed of small-kid days when I spent hours swimming, diving, and playing in the stream near where I lived in Kaneohe.

I had hoped to wait at the pool for Tom, Ryan, and Ray, but I decided to hike out after a walkie-talkie call to them indicated they'd probably take a while to reach my location. When I hiked back to where we had left our cars, I saw Stuart, Kay, and members of their team waiting there. Ho'ala had guava juice and potato chips for us, and we enjoyed these as we talked story and relaxed on a bus stop bench along Manoa Road. Fifteen minutes later, Tom, Ryan, and Ray appeared, and they, too, joined in on the refreshment and talk-story session.

Before we left, Ho'ala gave each of us a hug and a kiss on the cheek

"Thank you, uncle," she said when I received my hug and kiss.

"You're welcome, Ho'ala," I replied. "See you next month."

A nice Saturday it was.

--dkt

Kului Ridge 1st ascent

Kului Gulch is located just to the west (ewa side) of the Hawaii Loa Ridge Trail. On a day that started off beautifully but later deteriorated weatherwise, Wing and I hiked partway up HLRT and crossed Kului Gulch to gain the ridge on Kului's ewa side. We then pushed our way up this ridge, which I'll refer to as Kului Ridge, to the Koolau Summit.

We met at 8:30 at the end of Anolani Street in Niu Valley. Plan A was to hike up the trail in the valley then climb up the guava spur club route to the HLRT. But since the only hikers to show up at Anolani were Wing and I (several others were invited), there was a change to Plan B, which was to drive up Hawaii Loa Ridge and start there. So Dr Ng and I jumped into his aging but dependable maroon Mustang, leaving my aging but dependable blue Cherokee at the Anolani Street terminus. After signing a liability waiver--one of the stipulations being that we refrain from ti leaf sliding (yup, really)--and showing proof of Hawaii residence to the guard at the Hawaii Loa estates security post, we proceeded to the HLRT starting point.

Shoving off at just past 9 a.m., Wing and I hiked together up HLRT, talking about this and that. He pointed out places he and the Wedgees (Jay Feldman and the Wednesday gang) had hiked to on Kului Ridge to our left. Kului, according to info gleaned from the web, is "a large shrub or a small tree which grows up to 15 feet in height. The 'kului' is peculiar to the very dry regions of all of the islands where often nothing else grows. Its silvery-gray foliage and drooping flowers make it a conspicuous and attractive little tree. Nototrichium and another Hawaiian member of this family, Charpentiera, are the world's only woody amaranths." For a pic and info, see

www.nhm.org/research/botany/Hawaii_Vanishing_Flora/Dry_Forest_Folder/not_san.html

I'm not sure if we passed any Kului during our hike today. Since I'm not flora akamai/observant like Ken, Charlotte, Brandon, Kay, and others, I could have hiked right past some and not even known it. Two lashes with a clidemia branch for me.

We departed from the HLRT in the uluhe section just mauka of the last big guava pu'u. Wing set off into the uluhe abyss first while I sat down to put on long pants, eat an energy and a protein bar, and drink some water. After pants-ing and fueling up, I followed Wing's swath and caught up in a couple minutes. Instead of following Wing from that point, I slid down an uluhe embankment (fast and fun!) until reaching an open guava slope. From there, the going was open and easier, and I descended to a dry streambed, with Wing following not far behind.

After crossing the streambed, I then began climbing a spur ridge, with the objective being to gain the crest of Kului Ridge on the gulch's far side. Thick with uluhe was the spur, so we had to shift into bulldozer mode as we climbed. I recognized several large Halapepe specimens (patting myself on the back while sending kudos to my plant kumu, Kenji), which were as big as the ones growing along the Halapepe Nui Trail. Otherwise, it was uluhe heaven (or hell, depending on one's mood/point of view). I was hoping to find a swath/trail of some sort on the crest of Kului Ridge but alas there was nothing--nada, zip, zed, zilch. Not even na pua'a roamed on this ridge [insert expletives of your choice here].

At this point, Wing and I kept in contact via walkie talkie since the distance between us increased. Proceeding mauka up Kului Ridge, I (tool-less) occupied the primary battering ram slot, with La Wingo following behind, trusty loppers at the ready. The ridge initially was rolling and fairly broad; then it steepened and narrowed; then it broadened again but remained steep, but never cable-steep. Separated by about 100 meters but in contact via walkie-talkie, Wing and I sat down on the Kului Ridge hogback to eat lunch at just past noon. I found a bit of shade on the upslope side of a kopiko tree, and I was glad for some coolness as I watched steam wafting off my sweat-soaked shirt.

Lunch for me was brief (didn't want to stiffen up). Plus, I was eager to summit. Thirty minutes of tough climbing and pushing through after lunch, the summit of the Koolaus was acquired, elevation 2660, according to my altimeter watch. Today's climb was tough, as is the case when ascending trail-less ridges in Oahu's mountains. However, there have been tougher ones, namely Manoa Middle Ridge aka Waiahilahila Ridge (which I did with Wing and Brandon Stone), Pauao Ridge (which I did with Pat Rorie, Steve Poor, and Laredo Murray), and Kamaohanui (which I did with Steve Poor).

Kului Ridge crests out two nobs to the west of the Hawaii Loa Trail terminus. The trail on Kului Ridge isn't much of trail, so if anyone has plans to hike it, be prepared for a rough go. At least a swath is now in place. And, please, no verbal attacks on Wing or I for doing this. We were not doing it for the HTMC. For that matter, if the club never hikes this ridge, that'd be fine with me but if the Wedgees are looking for something to do :-). And while I can't speak for Wing, any damage done to native flora was minimal. So there.

I exited via HLRT. When I reached the HLRT terminus, I chatted briefly with three burly military guys, who inquired about where I'd come from. I explained what Wing and I had done, summing it up by saying, "We get our kicks doing stuff like that." The three burly guys smiled, one saying, "I can relate, bro."

The descent of HLRT was fairly uneventful, with the main item of note being that it began to rain. It had been so clear and sunny all day that precipitation, save for a mention of its possibility by weather forecasters, was completely unexpected. While I was descending HLRT, I contacted Wing one last time by walkie-talkie. During that conversation, I had a visual fix on him as he was making the final assault on Kului Ridge. I'm confident he topped out and descended HLRT back to his car. I'm sure he'll file a report on OHE as well.

To get back to my vehicle, from the HLRT, I headed down the club's guava spur trail to Pia Valley. Having descended that safely, I followed the valley trail back to Anolani Street. Pau by 3 p.m. dripping wet from the rain.

Tomorrow, it's back to Anolani Street for HTMC TM of the Kulepeamoa Ridge Trail--unless, of course, my aging body says otherwise when I wake up in the a.m.

Hike on, all you enthusiasts.

--dkt

Moanalua to Halawa cross country route

As a 14-year-old high school freshman, I'd never have guessed that the map reading lessons I learned in Sgt. Lytle's ROTC class at Kamehameha would be useful. However, in addition to learning smidgens of military history and procedures, I apparently picked up some tidbits about discerning geographic information via the teaching of the good ol' Sarge, for today I can decipher a topo map with some semblance of skill.

A case in point of my interest in maps is the cross-country route I'd pinpointed to reach the Halawa ridge trail from Moanalua Valley. Yesterday--a clear, cool Sunday--a bunch of us set out with the intent of determining if theory could translate into practice. And dog-gone, it did.

Our hiking day started at the neighborhood park at the Ala Aolani Street in Moanalua Valley. Normally, to access trails in the area, we tramp on up the valley's dirt road (not a fun thing for me), but yesterday we climbed a route that began behind the park's mauka-most basketball court. The route isn't a new one, for previous hikers/hunters have placed ribbons and done some cutting to establish a line up the ~700-foot face of the mountainside. Of note are a couple of rock faces to scale, one which has a cable for assistance, but these climbs aren't technical or dicey.

Once the 20 to 30 minute climb to the crest of the (Red Hill) ridge is completed, there's a jeep road to head up. The road passes several power line towers while proceeding about a half mile or so up the ridge and terminating. In a recent post to OHE, Jim Pushaw noted an encounter with a thick stand of guava (likely the one we came to at road's end) that seemed to discourage further mauka progress, but with some poking around (by Dick Cowan) a contour path through the guava on the left was found. Thereafter, a well-maintained trail on the ridge continues. Mabel Kekina and Peter Kempf did good work opening up some brushy uluhe sections, making our return in the afternoon much easier and quicker.

The trail, which offers nice views into Moanalua Valley to the right and South Halawa Valley to the left, passes a large landslide scar on the right before dipping to a saddle lined by a row of Cook pines. After the saddle, the path climbs steadily to a prominent pu'u topped by a grove of more Cook pines. The topo map identifies this pu'u as 1620 feet in elevation (hence I refer to it as Pu'u 1620). While examining the map last weekend, I eyed a well-defined spur descending into South Halawa Valley (H3 is in North Halawa) from the mauka-facing flank of Pu'u 1620. Today we went down the spur, clearing it as we descended. The spur was uluhe-free (a good thing) and we noticed old cut marks, likely made by hunters, so we knew we weren't the first down this way. On our descent, we cleared branches and encroaching vegetation, creating a useable route down to South Halawa Stream, which I, and most of the others, had never been to before.

Once at the gently flowing stream, we picked up an established trail on the far bank. We later met some hunters who'd hiked up the stream trail with their dogs from the end of the restricted-access road that passes Halawa Prison (they may have gotten access because of their membership in the pig hunters' association). Less than 100 meters mauka of our bottoming-out point, we started up another spur ridge with the hope of reaching the Halawa ridge trail. Taking turns at the front, we plowed through uluhe, weaved and chopped our way through stands of guava, and climbed steadily. An hour and 45 minutes of chopping and climbing after leaving the stream, we gained the Halawa trail at a point a 100 feet mauka of a recent landslide that has obliterated about 20 meters of the contour path. That we had reached Halawa from Moanalua would probably make Sgt. Lytle smile.

We ate lunch seated on the Halawa trail, and I dined on my latest culinary concoction: a mixture of a half cup of cottage cheese, a can of tuna, a tbsp of olive oil, and a couple dashes of curry spice, consumed with a couple of taro muffins. Mmmm-mmm ono! Before lunch, I made a declaration on the walkie-talkie that I'd had enough of cross-country bashing and wanted to exit via the Halawa trail (I'd request a pickup in Halawa Valley by one of the other crew members). A couple other folks liked the sound of the out-Halawa proposal, so talk at lunch centered on how long it would take to hike out that way and where it would be best to emerge.

Rest and water and food, however, brought on a more energetic outlook, and I decided that retracing the route back to Moanalua wasn't as bad as it seemed ("It's really just one up," said Dick). Ed "Glutton for Punishment" Gilman tried to enlist others to join him for an ascent of Halawa Ridge and a crossover on the summit to return to Moanalua, but he found no enlistees, so he decided to waylay that plan hike back with us.

The return leg gave us a chance to inspect the clearing work we'd done on the outbound trip. And our inspection indicated the route up to the Halawa trail from South Halawa Stream is now reasonably cleared and marked (double ribbons just mauka of the large landslide on Halawa ridge mark the down-point).

The ascent from stream to Pu'u 1620 (the "one up" that Dick mentioned) was a sweaty, heart-pumping affair, and I was encouraged that I was able to complete it without having to double over and wheeze as I've done on hill climbs in recent weeks. My bodyweight (244) is the lowest it's been in a year, so maybe the lessened load is helpful.

A group led by Jason Sunada, Tom Yoza, and Ken Suzuki climbed a spur mauka of the one from Pu'u 1620 and reported that hunters had already established a marked route on it. Additionally, as Jay reported, Mike Algiers and Helene Sroat ascended Red Hill Ridge another mile and change mauka of Pu'u 1620, encountering heavy uluhe growth and some narrow dike sections en route. They steadfastly plowed through the uluhe to the junction with the Godek-Jaskulski spur trail which they descended to Moanalua Valley to a point near the start of the Moanalua Stream and middle ridge trails. A walk on the valley's dirt road brought them back to the morning's starting point.

By mid-afternoon, all who set out in the morning were back at the neighborhood park partaking of refreshments ala Mama Mabel. The fare included fresh fruit, hot dogs, dirt cake (a wonderful dessert made up of, among other things, Oreo cookies, pistachio pudding, and cream cheese), and more. While eating, our spirits were high since we had a good day of exercise, camaraderie, and exploration.

Notes:

As Waianae Steve reported in a post last week, a good deal of climbing is involved to reach Halawa ridge and return to Moanalua-over 3000 feet of vertical gain all told. Consequently, using today's route as a means to maintain Halawa ridge isn't feasible because we'd expend too much time and energy to get there and return. Ken suggested that club ask the quarry management for permission to use the quarry road to drive up the initial part of Halawa ridge. It seems the pig hunters' club has such an arrangement, and Ken is right, asking can't hurt.

Jay is gung-ho about adding Red Hill ridge to the summit to the HTMC's inventory of hikes. I agree that opening up the route is doable and is likely something that the crew will tackle, if the schedule committee and Mabel give their blessings, of course.

We heard walkie-talkie chatter from club members taking part in today's HTMC Treasure Hunt on the Aiea Loop trail. I hope an OHE subscriber took part and reports on what happened

Speaking of treasure hunts, Ken conducted one for us at the post-hike refreshment gathering. The objective was identifying a plant based on a leaf sample he showed us. The winner: Mabel. The answer: guava. Among the prize choices: a mini mag light and a Swiss army knife.

Yesterday's participants (13): Mabel Kekina, Peter Kempf, Dick Cowan, Brenda Cowan, Jay Feldman, Ed Gilman, Dayle Turner, Tom Yoza, Jason Sunada, Ken Suzuki, Georgina Oka, June Miyasato, Lynn Agena.

Today (Monday), a group led by Stuart Ball and Tom Yoza will be continuing to work on the old Kahuku trail via Pupukea. Tom or some other participant in that adventure will likely post a write-up to tell us how it went.

I'm not sure what next Sunday's TM outing is. I'm certain Jay or someone else will post the info to the list this week.

Go HTMC!

--dkt