The last few weeks have been a transition period on the island. It happens often, a large fluctuation of people from and to Hawi. A group of my good friends left to chase their fate on the mainland. And I'm sure that their positions have already been filled by equally amazing people just waiting to be discovered. I know that there are a few people who have just returned to Kohala from the US winter, I even met a kid who grew up in Carbondale and is friends with a lot of the same people from the valley.
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| Right to left Brian, Anna, Tanager, Travis and Honokoa gulch |
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To celebrate the transition of Shell, Anna, Brian,and Tyler, a few of my friends from different social groups. We decided to do something that none of us had ever done before. They left the decision up to me. I have to admit its my favorite thing; taking a bunch of people to do something that none of us have ever done. We got out the maps on a Monday morning, while Shell and Lana made the house brunch. None of us expected the crowd that showed up and kept growing until we departed. I decided on a large canyon on the desert side of Kohala, a big gash that runs from the Kohala mountain road all the way down to Kawaihai. I measured it up and a rough estimate of five miles and four to five hours was produced. Eight hours later we would realize how rough an estimate can be.
We departed with a larger group than I could accommodate with my gear. We were two harnesses shy because of the tag alongs. I should start my own company, I already have gear for eight. We took three cars leaving the truck at the bottom of the canyon and driving up to the top where we would drop in around noon. All ten of us and Makai started down the north branch of the canyon so we could skirt the houses and the big drops at the beginning of the trek and gain more ground faster. We did end up coming upon more people then we anticipated; eventually we all ran through a field to avoid walking right next to some people putting in a fence. When we made it back to the canyon we were past the confluence of two streams, there were two huge waterfalls before and one immediately after the streams connected and we had a great vantage point where we were standing hundreds of feet above it.
After chasing a heard of about 500 feral goats we found a way back into the canyon. The scene was perfect; sun from above, rain from the east with no clouds in sight, beautiful flowers and green grass everywhere because of the twenty or so inches of rain we had received this year on the dry side of the mountains. We strolled along the river banks until someone spotted an unfortunate goat bloated and floating in an eddy. Everyone wanted to chill on the green grass and swim in a pristine pond so they decided to hang out upstream while I scoped the scene a hundred feet below. Not very far away there was a waterfall about twenty yards tall with a perfect anchor and rigging spot. Had the situation not been so fortunate we probably would have bailed back out of the canyon and looked for a way around, but we had the gear and I had already dropped the rope by the time anyone else got a look.
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| Anna on rope with the crew standing on the rocks below |
No matter what laid below the majority were ready for the challenge. I manned the station on top of the waterfall, Tyler stayed below until he was blue, and Peter checked out the canyon ahead to find potential ways out if we ran into big falls. Everyone made it down safely to the pond below, even though it wasn't a flawless rappell. When Makai and I arrived at the bottom and pulled the rope everyone knew we were running short on day light. The sun was no longer directly into the canyon from above and it was shaded in a lot of spots. So everyone picked up the pace. No longer worried about getting wet, we quickly slid and waded through the stream. The canyon became deeper and wider but still allowed enough light for small stands of kukui and peach trees, to our surprise. We took an exit out of the north of the canyon, I learned later that this was our biggest mistake; If we would have gone out the other side there would have been a dirt road leading directly to our destination. However, we were still having fun and were gung ho about making it out in the next hour or so to make it to sunset on the beach. Looking up at our path we should have realized that my "half way there" was not true, but the path below looked like a comfortable grassy field all the way down to the ocean. So we trudged along for a couple of hours still enjoying ourselves as until we ended up with cliffs on both sides of us, the sun setting into the ocean, and no where to go but down. At that point Lana consulted the Iphone map and the truth came out; we were half way to the truck.
We quickly scurried down a cliff through a dry stream bed and up the other side. I saw a road and a subdivision on the map and decided I would like to head for that. I hung back with Tyler at that point hoping that everyone would make an effort to stay together, but we were moving slower and even the dog ditched us. We caught up to a portion of our group flashing lights up the hill in the dark and stopped for a brief snack of Nutella and sardines. Not the most appetizing dinner but enough sustenance to keep us going. Again the group took off and was a few hundred yards away from us before we got moving.
For the next hour and a half Tyler and I made our way towards some lights off in the distance, we just kept trudging along hoping we were close to our destination but beyond the point of worrying. The weather was perfectly comfortable, warm with a soft breeze from the mountain. At any moment I could have laid down and fallen asleep, but I didn't want to even mention the idea because it sounded so much easier than the situation we were in. The lights in the distance never seemed to get any closer even after crossing a dozen gulches. At some point Tyler noticed the lights were from Kohala Ranch Rd. still miles away from us and we changed our course immediately heading straight down hill. After ten minutes Tyler said, "A Watertower!" and I hardly even heard him until he told me to stop. Right next to us was a huge water tank and upon approaching it the whole subdivision below us came into view. We were finally at a road, we just had no idea where.
Surprisingly enough the road offered no console to our tired soles.We could move at a faster pace than the grassy rocks we had been tripping on for hours, but our tired legs could hardly take the impact of pavement so we ended up walking backwards until we came to a street sign and found out where we were. We phoned the others who were just making it back to the truck, sat down on the corner and we were picked up in no time. With a bed full of eight dirty wet adventurers we descended upon the only restaurant left open in Kohala, The Seafood Bar. We hardly said a word as we sucked down dark beers and late night happy hour pupus. We had a few people ask what we were up to; I'm sure that ten people sitting at a table giggling hardly saying a word and ravenously stuffing our faces were quite a scene. We left as the restaurant closed and headed up the mountain to our vehicles. This would end up being the worst part of the adventure. After nearly nine hours, six miles of hiking and 3500 feet of decline there was nothing comfortable about sitting in a truck in the cold wet Waimea wind with full bellies an cramping muscles. But, we made it. All of us, and with only sore muscles and scratched ankles to show for it. Not bad considering the amount of unknowns thrown into the situation. I did apologize to my friends as we loaded up, but they only laughed it off and said they really enjoyed it. I actually believe them now after hearing all the stories and comments from people I don't even know. I really enjoyed it too. After talking to a few of my local friends I discovered that they too have done the same route, and that the gate on the other side of the canyon leads directly down to where we parked the truck only two hours away via the road. Oh well, next time. I also heard somewhere that staying in the canyon is a guaranteed full day, about 18 hours. Now that is an epic adventure.
I got a plan to fill the rest of my 40 days with activities and fill in the calendar with things I need to accomplish before I go. So far there are about a hundred things to do. I'm fulfilling one by writing on here as much as possible. The other thing I was supposed to do was to get a doctor to write me a prescription for Makai, my dog. I think I got one!
