Manana Ridge -- LastKoho -- December 2000

From the OHE archives, posted on 11 January 2001 by LastKoho (lastkoho@yahoo.com)

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This past December, early on a Sunday, I dragged myself out of bed and wobbled to the kitchen where I forced down two Eggos with maple syrup, some cold left-over fried rice, and a couple of Portuguese sausages. My wife, I vaguely recall, already done with her breakfast, was watching CNN. It was not morning ----- it was a dream, a dream that continued with me behind the wheel of our car as it floated along H1, a dream in which my wife and I talked about the traffic.

"Man, I'm surprised there're so many cars out here at this time of day."

"I guess folks are going to breakfast before church or something."

"Geez, who the hell are all of these people?"

We headed along Moanalua Road and turned onto Waimano Home Road and were then somehow magically curving up into Pacific Palisades on Komo Mai Drive. Finally, reaching the end of the street and the start of Manana trail, I parked at a cul-de-sac, feeling a small jolt as the front bumper scraped against the curb. Car locked, backpacks slung on, my wife signed-in at the trailhead mailbox ("Koho, party of 2, hikers, 5:55 AM, Please don't touch the car") and, with flashlights beaming, we headed up the paved road.

There was no wind but the air was cool and the torches provided plenty of light so that we glided past three utility towers and a water tank and, at the end of the pavement, entered a forest where three brown signs with yellow arrows (the first sign full of bullet holes) helped us stay on path. No menehunes, no boogeyman, no nutcracker doll, just a tranquil, dark forest that we emerged from after about a half an hour.

The skies had now lightened. There were clouds in the east, no great dramatic fireball or sizzling red-orange horizon, just a gray-white eastern sky. The air still, birds were calling in the distance, a serene dawn. I was finally awake and, to boot, pleased.

We now put our flashlights in our packs and walked on top of a bare hill below which the State (or some other concerned party) had planted baby pine trees and on top of which they had pounded-in erosion guards. The trail was slippery in spots because of the morning dew but we did just fine, hiking through brown-topped buffalo grass, up a lengthy and relatively steep grade, along the muddy side of a hill, and then climbing a puny pali with the aid of some well-placed ropes. Five minutes after 8:00 A.M. we reached the helipad, halfway ---- and it started to rain. This was not a terrible thing, the rain, since we found shelter under a tree past the pad and sat and each ate a banana (visually rhyming with Manana) and, after twenty minutes, now in gaiters and windbreakers, the rain just a sprinkle, trekked through a terrific native forest. The ohia and fern surroundings were so enjoyable that we almost forgot about the mud and steep hills.

We took frequent water and cardiac breaks (my personal rule of thumb: when the heart knocks heavily, answer it). And, after a few rope climbs (nice, these ropes; thanks to those who set them up), eventually broke into the open, no more rain, moving along the narrow somewhat overgrown ridge path from one small knob to another. While the flora along the sides of the valleys was clearly beaten and bent from frequent winds, there wasn't a breeze to be found on this day. We were far out in the thunderously quiet, peaceful Koolaus, just us. And then, suddenly, we spotted two apapanes; they flew above and over the Waimano Valley, gave out a call, and then just as suddenly disappeared below the cliff.

Happy, on we went; and after one last push through a bit of brush, we popped onto the summit knob, which was about twelve feet by eight feet with knee-high grass that we promptly matted down with body and bag. Like in a bad novel, the sun broke through now for the first time that day. Then a high cloud came overhead and then the sun again broke through. High clouds, sun, clouds, sun. Not a drop of rain, always the stunning view of the windward side below and the sea beyond, framed by Ohulehule to the left and Makapuu far to the right.

We ate lunch, which included a memorable peanut butter and guava jelly sandwich, and for a full hour enjoyed the scenery.

Starting back at around 11:30, with time on our side, we took a picture or two, gained three more quick looks at apapanes, stopped frequently for water. When we reached the helipad over two hours later, I was tired. I lay down on my back. When I lifted my head and looked toward the summit, I saw that it was now cloaked in clouds. My wife sat nearby and compared the mud on her legs and shoes to the mud on my legs and shoes and declared the contest a tie.

About twenty minutes later, in the sun, we began moving again. Shortly after passing a shelter and picnic table, about an hour or so from the car, we saw people, the sight of whom, after a day of relative solitude, was slightly jarring. A young man and young woman, perched on a green puu, were together bent over a book. We kept going. In the forest, we passed a mountain biker and a couple of other hikers and a little later, on the paved road, said hello to a pack of five or six fellows (towels slung over their shoulders) who carried and drank from McDonalds cups (they were heading, no doubt, to Waimano pool).

After a hundred or so more yards we saw a discarded McDonalds cup lying like an open wound in the center of the road. There's always something. It was a rather depressing sight after such a satisfactory day, this trash on the trail. I had an urge to backtrack and find the culprit and somehow make things right. But, of course, it was only an urge. Feeling a little foolish, I picked up the cup (somewhat absurd -- there was also litter in the brush on either side of the trail but I just focused on the "new" litter). I recalled the stretch of the hike where we hovered over the valleys on the narrow ridge path as the apapanes flew above us. I wondered what it would feel like to be there and come across, as someone inevitably one day would, a McDonalds cup lying on the ground. It stung a little, this thought.

At the cul-de-sac, finished, we signed-out at the mailbox and threw our rubbish in a smelly waste can. After changing shoes, we got in the car, my wife behind the wheel, and, with visions of McDonalds and Manana dancing in our heads, rolled toward home.

Waimalu to Moanalua on the Koolau Crest -- Pat Rorie

Yet another post from the OHE archives, this one by Patrick Rorie, posted on 9 January 2001.

Gene Robinson and I have accomplished some pretty challenging backpacking trips together during the past few years (i.e. La'ie to Waimano in '98, Mauna Loa via the Ainapo Trail in '99). This past weekend (January 6, 7) the two of us got together to attempt another tough outing - an overnight stay on the Ko'olau summit at the terminus of the Waimalu middle ridge, followed the next day by a rollercoaster tramp along the Ko'olau crest, eventually dropping down into and exiting Moanalua Valley. Roger Breton also received an invitation, but he had a commitment on Saturday. Instead, Roger decided to meet us at the top of Aiea Ridge at noon on Sunday. The weather on both days? Almost completely clear skies and bright sunshine due to light winds until mid afternoon when thick clouds engulfed the Ko'olau summit.

Gene is a medical doctor and has two 8th grade children so he had some loose ends to take care of before we could commence the trek. As a result, the two of us didn't hit the trail (Waimalu Ditch - the first leg of our journey) until 11:15 a.m. Nevertheless, we made good time to the floor of Waimalu Valley via the ditch trail despite a hau tangle nuisance, arriving at the normal terminus of the HTM hike (elev. 657 ft) at 1:15 p.m.

After obtaining four liters of water from a nearby pool (the stream was not flowing, and Gene had never seen it so dry), I followed Dr. Robinson to the base of the middle ridge. Due to a lack of trade winds (steamy!), the initial steep climb through thick uluhe took quite a physical toll, every shady spot serving as an oasis. Fortunately, the ridge leveled off and the thick open uluhe section transitioned to forest, the home of a few native birds. Gene, an avid birder, paused frequently to listen to their calls and attempted to identify the species. Meanwhile, I spocked the surrounding flora. Farther ahead, we recognized dormant "Angel Falls" (a sheer rocky cliff on Waiau Ridge shaped like an angel), gained pleasure from the excellent view of Waimalu Valley stretched out before us toward Pearl Harbor, and enjoyed "the process of getting there", esp. over a particularly narrow stretch, as we continued the birder/botanical pace. Eventually, Gene and I commenced the final spectacular open grassy ascent to the summit, halting on atleast one occasion to gaze at a lovely copse of tall loulu palms to the left of the ridge. During the final climb, Gene sang a line from the movie "Sound of Music"..."The hills are alive with the sound of music!"and proclaimed the section "The Ramp to Heaven".

At 5:21 p.m. the two of us reached the Ko'olau summit (elev. 2,570 ft) in the fog and immediately began erecting our canvas coverings on the broad essentially tree-less peak, Dr. Robinson his four season tent and myself a slumberjack bivy (we decided against an exploratory jaunt down windward facing Kalahaku Ridge because of the fog and a shortage of daylight). Once our tents were pitched, Gene and I put on warm clothes, ate dinner and relaxed near the campsite. When darkess set in, a rare break in the mist revealed the nearly full moon high in the eastern sky and the Pearl City/Aiea city lights far below in the distance to leeward. A gentle breeze also existed in stark contrast to the gusty trades that normally pound the region.

Anticipating an arduous day of hiking along the summit ridge, Gene retired for the evening inside his humble abode around 8 p.m., and I entered my temporary shelter half an hour later upon giving up hope that the clouds would significantly dissipate.

== Sunday, January 7 "The Long Haul to Moanalua Valley"

A few minutes prior to 6 a.m. I emerged from my slumberjack bivy to a dark, chilly morning (57 degrees fahrenheit) but was amazed at the wonderful sights. At long last, the fog had lifted revealing windward suburban/city lights from Kahalu'u to Waimanalo, and to leeward, the lights of Salt Lake, Aiea, Pearl City, Waipi'o and Mililani/Wahiawa. The heavens were filled with many stars/constellations, including Leo almost directly overhead, the Big Dipper, the North Star, Hokulea, Spica, the Southern Cross and Gemini. I encouraged Gene to come out of his tent and soon he joined me in star gazing mode. As the glow of the golden hue of the rising sun filled the eastern horizon above Moloka'i and Lana'i, the silhouette of the Aiea Ridge terminus appeared to the south. Then we witnessed a gorgeous sunrise, and while the sun moved higher and higher above the horizon, its rays reflected beautifully off the surface of the Pacific Ocean and illuminated the impressive sheer fluted cliffs in back of Waihe'e Valley, as well as Mount Ohulehule and Pu'u Kanehoalani.

At 7:46 a.m. packed and psyched, Gene began the traverse to Aiea Ridge along the Ko'olau crest. I had spent too much time delighting in the marvelous panorama and required an additional half hour to get my act together. Nevertheless, I departed the peak at 8:20 a.m. bound for a rendezvous with Roger Breton.

Regarding Ko'olau summit trekking, every step usually finds terra firma under a mask of uluhe but stumbling or slipping is fairly common. Because the leeward side of the ridge tends to be choked with vegetation, travel is easiest on the extreme windward edge. However, it is similar to walking on a tight rope, one wrong step, esp. if burdened with a 45 pound pack, can send the hiker over the windward pali to a potentially catastrophic injury or even death!

It didn't take long for me to catch and pass Gene, and following the first serious climb to the top of the next prominent pu'u, I had to wait for my hiking partner (not a good sign). After a couple more significant ups and downs, Gene confessed that his legs just weren't in shape for the rigors of summit travel (he would bail down Aiea Ridge). Although steamy conditions prevailed and the journey proved laborious, the two of us enjoyed looking down on lines of loulu palms clinging to the sheer windward pali and the fluted cliffs/precipitous ridges to windward. Furthermore, the presence of native plants, such as lapalapa trees, bolstered our spirits.

Once Aiea Ridge came into view, I spotted Roger completing the final stretch to the summit. When he turned toward me, I signaled him with my mirror. Unexpectedly, Breton interpreted my act as a gesture of distress and descended along the Ko'olau crest, closing the gap between himself and Gene and I. Later, when I realized what Roger was doing, I yelled for him to stop, which he did. Dr. Robinson and I got together one last time and agreed to keep in touch via walkie-talkies. While Gene rested, I proceeded south along the summit and rendezvoused with Breton. I radioed Gene that a bottle of gatorade and Roger's truck keys lay in a clearing where he could find them. Suddenly, Dayle Turner chimed in on the radio, and he and Gene spoke briefly to each other.

Pressing on, Breton and I accomplished the tough climb to the Aiea Ridge terminus (elev. 2,805 ft) at 12:45 p.m. then took a much needed water break. Roger provided a 20 oz. Dr. Pepper to quench my thirst, and I also consumed the contents of a 12 oz. can of Dr. P! Talk about a sugar/caffine jolt! :-)

Leaving Aiea Ridge behind, Roger and I continued on the Ko'olau crest toward the Haiku Valley overlook between 1/1:15 p.m. During the cross over, the two of us recognized a tour helicopter parked on one of the concrete platforms once used by the Coast Guard to secure the former Omega Station wires, but the chopper flew away before we reached it. Upon arriving at the overlook at 2:43 p.m., I radioed Dayle and found out that he and his Red Hill Ridge gang (masochists?) were reclining at the Moanalua Valley saddle. En route to the Halawa Ridge Trail terminus, Breton twisted his ankle and doubled over due to heat exhaustion. As if right on cue, a thick cooling mist engulfed the Ko'olau crest, allowing Roger to partially recover. Nevertheless, Breton stripped off his shirt and hiked ala "Big" John Darrah style despite the scratches he knew he would suffer.

We reached the Halawa Ridge Trail terminus, but did not pause for a breather/rehydration. From Halawa Ridge, Roger and I ascended to the Ko'olau summit/Red Hill Ridge junction, successfully negotiated the Henry Davis rope sections, and used the steep eroded swath created by the Red Hill Ridge masochists to drop down to the Moanalua Valley saddle. Upon tramping through Thomas Yoza's superb clearing job, Roger and I attained the normal terminus of the Moanalua Valley Trail (elev. 1,680 ft) at approx. 5 p.m. I immediately contacted Dayle (now residing at the Moanalua Valley Park with those remaining from the trail clearing effort) via walkie-talkie that Breton and myself were at the saddle safe and sound.

After gazing at the sheer fluted cliffs of Haiku Valley for a short duration, Roger and I commenced the final leg of the day - a 5.5 mile stroll by way of the well cleared valley trail and long dirt/gravel road. Prior to exiting the valley, night fell but the pale moon light of the nearly full moon illuminated the thoroughfare nicely.

At 7:07 p.m. the two of us emerged from the woods onto Ala Aolani Street where our vehicles were parked (Gene had dropped off Roger's truck subsequent to reaching the Aiea Loop trailhead at the top of Keaiwa Heiau State Recreation Area), and bid each other "Aloha".

== Paka

Maui Valley Trails --by Eric Stelene -- 8 January 2001

Another installation from the Oahu Hiking Enthusiasts Archives. This one is by Eric Stelene (stelene@email.com). Here's Eric.

I've been on Maui for about 3 months now, so I guess it's time to start posting stuff. So with out further ado here's some of what I've explored so far:

WEST MAUI

A'e Stream (aka JFK's Profile)-
This deep gorge in the Iao valley is only a roadside curiosity to those on their way to the Iao needle. The profile of John F Kennedy (the drunk, womanizing war-monger covered for by his classy wife) can supposedly be seen in the canyon wall.

Park your car at the Needle parking lot and walk back down to the bridge. Pick your way down to the stream bed and follow it up. There's no trail but the going's not too hard. Large boulders are scattered throughout the valley floor and seem to have originated high on the cliffs above and probably came crashing down long ago. Climb up a few small, dry waterfalls and in about 45 mins the canyon walls close in. About 3/4 mile from the start, the canyon becomes reminiscent of Ma'akua Valley on Oahu.

The narrow walls are covered with moss and water continuously seeps from above. A waterfall about 40 feet high blocks further progress upstream. However, a large tree trunk leans at an angle to the top of the falls and it seems possible, but very dangerous, to climb the slippery wet log to the top of the falls and continue to the amphitheatre at the back of the valley. Just below the falls, an irrigation tunnel comes out of the canyon wall about 6 feet above the stream bed. Those who are suicidally adventurous could crawl through tunnel and emerge (hopefully) somewhere else.

"Iao Needle Canyon" (unnamed stream)-
When looking at the Needle from the small footbridge everyone takes pictures from, you can see this incredibly narrow, steep gorge to the right of the Needle. In other words, the canyon's west wall is the Iao Needle itself. From the left side of the bridge, you can see a small trail leading down to the stream.

The is a sign written in some foriegn language that reads something like "No resspassing, keep ou" With no intention of "resspassing", follow the trail down to where it meets the stream. Cross it and climb up the embankment into the "Needle Canyon" streambed. The rocky streambed is thick with hau and progress is hard and slow. In several places it is necessary to remove your pack and squeeze through the branches. The stream bed opens a little and you can see the valley walls towering above you on each side. Although you can't distinguish it as such, the cliff on your left is actually the base of the Iao Needle. Climb up several rocky cliffs, each harder than the one before it, then the vegatation disapears and you can see the back of the valley ahead. The canyon walls soar high above you. Pass several small pools and dry slippery slides and come to one more dry waterfall to climb. You have to cling to roots and branches next to falls to make it up. Its not easy. Squeeze through a windy, fantastically carved section section of streambed comperable to a slot canyon of the southwest. Emerge at a small amphitheatre and 60 foot waterfall chute. Above the chute, you can see the back of the valley several hundreds yards beyond. Total distance to here is less than mile, it takes about 1 hour.

EAST MAUI

Twin Falls-
You have to do this early to beat the crowds at this very popular spot. Although it's a real tourist trsp, its well worth it. Twin Falls is the only waterfall I have found in Hawaii that is possible to walk behind. The trail starts at mile 2 of the Hana Highway and follows a dirt road about 1/2 mile to Twin Falls. Several pools and small falls are found along the way. The road is wide and easy. Come to a juction where a path splits off to the left. A rock with a faded painting of a waterfall and arrow pointing left sits at the juction. Take this path a short distance to another juntion. Bear to the right(to the left the path leads to a rusty gate). Reach an overlook of Twin Falls and climb down to the pool. At the back of the pool is a large eroded alcove. Walk/wade around the pool to alcove. Long ferns hang down over the cliff above you reminding you of Fern Grotto on Kauai (Note: There is only one single waterfall here, so I don't know why its called Twin Falls). When you're ready to leave, head back the way you came. At the juction you can take the path that leads to the rusty gate. You can continue a little further to several small water falls and pools.

Waikamoi Stream-
Waikamoi Stream is the first bridge past the Waikamoi ridge trail, past mile 9 on the Hana Hwy. The first waterfall you will find here is right at the bridge. Hike beyond on the trail to right of the falls and follow the streambed a few hundred yards upstream to another waterfall with small cave near its base (see pic at left). You can also hike downstream from the bridge and in about 15 mins come to the top of a 40 footer with big plunge pool. It looks like great place to jump from, only there is no apparent way to get back up.

Puohokamoa Stream-
Probably the most popular swimming hole along the Hana Hwy, its is 1 mile beyond Waikamoi stream. Like Waikamoi, you can find 3 waterfalls all within a short distance. The first one is a stones throw from the bridge. There is path to the left of the falls that leads to the top. Continue a little further to the second waterfall and a little more privacy. Downstream from the bridge, walk several hundred yards in the stream bed and come to the top of a specatular waterfall about 300 feet high. You can view this waterfall another way:

From the bridge, drive back in the direction of Kahului. Just before the road turns out of Puohokumoa valley, there is a pulloff on the left next to some powerlines. A short trail leads to a breathtaking overlook of the falls. a little further along the trail you can get a partial glimpse makai of the Hana coast and Keopuku Rock, an impressive seastack just offshore.

Punolao(?) Stream
Honomanu Valley is the largest valley on the Hana Highway west of Kipahulu. On the west side of Honomanu is a deep draw cut by Punolao(?) Stream. A short hike up this stream is a must. Almost immediately upon leaving the Highway you find yourself in deep narrow valley similar to Ma'akua. In 15 mins you find yourself at the base of a 100 foot waterfall. This valley looks so wild you would think you were in the most remote, unexplored parts of Hawaii and not minutes from a major thoroughfare!

Hanawi Stream-
Around mile 24, there is another roadside waterfall everyone takes pictures of and then drives off. If you climb over the fence and down to the stream, you will find one neat little place! A small stream comes down from the left from a cove so undercut by erosion it looks like its flowing out of a cave. The first pool above the falls has a natural arch big enough to walk through. This the only arch I've found along a stream in Hawaii. There are 2 more pools upstream and another waterfall, The whole place is filled with all kinds of alcoves, pukas, and swimming holes. Its definitley worth a look.

Nahiku-
Nakhiku Road turns makai off Hana Hwy to Nahiku landing. About a mile down the road look for caves on the right. you'll drive right past them if your not careful. There're not very big, but one is big enough to stand up in and goes back about 30-40 feet. You'll need a flashlight.

More to come.