Hanakapi'ai Hike

I won’t be able to move tomorrow.  I can barely move now, and it’s only a few hours since my 8 mile, all-day hike.  To be honest, if I had known in advance how strenuous and difficult the Hanakapi’ai Hike was going to be, I might not have tried it.  So I’m glad I didn’t know. 

Early this morning, my friend Dylan (the one who works on a fruit farm) and I made the 40-minute drive up Highway 56 (a 2-lane road that they call it a highway…) to the Hanakapi'ai trailhead.  Highway 56 ends at Ke’e Beach, and the last mile or so of road is lined with parking lots both for hikers and beach-goers.  The lots were packed by the time we got there, but we found a spot about half a mile down the road from the beach.  On the half-mile hike to the trailhead, we came across a cave surrounded by a mystical pool of water.  My camera lens wasn’t wide enough to capture it, but this cave and pool were in the very back corner of a larger cave that was carved out of the side of the mountain we were walking along.

We came to the trailhead and began our adventure. :)  The trail started out rocky—not with big boulders, but with smaller rocks about the size of a coconut.  It was difficult to get your footing and stay balanced in spots, but eventually we made it up the slope and came to an easier trail of dirt and strewn with tree roots.  (Remember the intricate webs of tree roots in the pictures I posted?  We had to climb over a lot of those.)  The first two miles of the trail stayed on the outer edge of the mountain and provided beautiful views of the Na Pali Coast. 

At one clearing there was a group of people gathered, all watching a spectacular acrobatics show from a school of dolphins in the bay below.  They were so far below us that it was hard to make out specifics, but what we could see was that every few seconds, a dolphin would flip completely out of the water and land with a large splash.  I got a couple shots of the splashes... and one photograph that might be of a dolphin’s head—if you use your imagination. 

As we got closer to the beach, we saw signs warning hikers and swimmers of frequent high waves and strong currents… but by that point, after hiking through terrain that was fraught with rocks, roots, and hills, we were ready to take a dip no matter what the conditions!  But luckily, after carefully crossing the river (which had quite a flow) boulder-by-boulder, we made it to the beach to find the water calm and filled with swimmers.

We took off our shoes, ran across the hot sand (the soles of my feet literally felt like they were boiling), put our stuff in a pile under the shade of a tall crevice in the mountain, and dove into the crystal-clear ocean.  “Refreshing” isn’t a strong enough word to describe the feeling of floating over the swells and diving into the occasional wave.  We basked in the water for a while, then headed to shore to eat our lunch.  I had brought peanut-butter sandwiches, and he had brought fresh avocados.  Dylan insisted that peanut-butter/avocado sandwiches are a delicacy, so we ripped the avocados open with our bare hands and squeezed the fruit onto our sandwiches.  I don’t know that I would label it a delicacy, but it was definitely delicious and filling.  We laid on the beach for a few more minutes, then decided that we better finish the hike to the waterfall (two miles further inland) if we wanted to get back to the car by dusk.  On the way back to the trail we passed this pool of water left from when the tide comes in.  It's hard to tell, but those black blobs that look like seaweed are actually hundreds of tadpoles!  

  

And so began the treacherous journey to the falls.  Unlike the first two miles of the trail, the second two miles cut directly inland, through the jungle.  This second trail made the first seem laughable.  At times we had to pull ourselves up the inclines by tree roots and branches.  The trail crossed back and forth over the river three or four times, and each crossing the current grew stronger and the boulders further apart and more slippery.  There were parts of the trail covered in mud and slippery rocks, and we had to stay close to the side and hang on to tree trunks for balance.  We scaled 80 degree inclines of solid rock, tripped down dusty declines, and ate lots of wild guava.  Except for the few times the trail followed the riverbank, the jungle surrounded us on all sides—lush foliage, mammoth Chinese Banyan trees, and thick vines.  I wish I’d had time for photography, but we were too concerned with getting the falls in time to enjoy it and make the 4-mile return trip all before it began to get dark.  Just picture any scene from Lost or Jurassic Park and you’ll feel like you were there with me.      

But I really wasn’t sure we were going to make it to the falls.  My legs were shaking from muscle exertion, and after spending an hour in the sun on the hot beach, I was drained.  Dylan was feeling the same exhaustion, but we pushed through without stopping to rest… and what a reward we got.  When we got to the clearing, climbed across a field of boulders, and finally set our packs down to take our first real look at the waterfall, I thought, “It’s so skinny!”  Compared to the impressive width of the Kilauea River Falls that I hiked to last Thursday, this waterfall seemed so narrow.  But what it lacked in width, it made up for in height.  The Hanakapi’ai waterfall cascades down an impressive 400-foot cliff and empties into a circular, ice-cold swimming hole.  I couldn’t capture the entire falls in one photograph, but here are some shots of the waterfall and pool. 

Almost immediately, we put our stuff in a pile and climbed into the pool, which like the pool on Thursday, was surrounded with slimy rocks on the edges.  But once we were in a few feet deep, the pool deepened and we could swim freely without touching.  The water was freezing.  But once we were in, it only took a minute to get used to the temperature, and we swam the length of the pool and through the rushing falls (which looked SO much bigger and wider from directly below!).  Behind the waterfall there were slimy rocks just deep enough for us to sit comfortably on and still be in the water.  A group of people followed us and swam through the falls one by one, cheering each other on, and joined us on the rocks.  We had a nice chat with a few of them.  They were all tourists except for one native girl (who had brought all her friends to the falls)… she told us that she was born and raised on Kauai (looked to be about my age), but that this was the first time she’d successfully completed the Kanakapi’ai Hike.  She’d tried before and failed, but this time she’s brought her friends from the mainland with her and was determined not to give up.  Good for her. :)

We swam back to shore and ate our last remaining guacamole.  Then we climbed the last hundred feet of the trail up a cliff to a little cove in the side of the mountain, and got a couple shots of the waterfall/swimming hole from there.  In a couple of them you can see how tiny the people look next to the falls.  Even though it was a thin waterfall, it was still majestic and impressive!  It does get wider in the winter, when there’s a lot more rainfall. 

Completely rejuvenated by our swim and short rest, we hiked the next 4 miles back, only stopping twice for less that two minutes each time.  We were relieved to find that we had misestimated our pace and would have plenty of time to return before sundown.  We stopped for a few pictures of a bamboo thicket.  The thicket was just like those from Lost, where the characters find refuge from the monster when it chases them.  I climbed inside—you can’t tell, but in the last picture I shimmied up the bamboo and was a few feet off the ground.  Right after the picture I put my hand in a spider web and let go without thinking… I made it back to the ground pretty quickly. ;)

During one of our 2-minute breaks on the last leg of the hike, a man and his wife caught up with us, the man nearly crawling from exhaustion.  Almost begging, he asked if we had any water to spare, said that they “grossly underestimated” the hike.  We’d had plenty to drink throughout the day and were only a mile away from our car, where we had more… so we gave them the rest of the water we were carrying.  They were so grateful—but how could we have said no?!  The man looked like he was going to either pass out or have a heart attack.  I cannot possibly imagine completing that hike if I weren’t young and spry.  Still, we saw several people in their sixties, and even one man who was carrying his baby in a pack strapped to his back.  I can’t imagine trying to cross the river with something as fragile as an infant on my torso!  I don’t know how he did it. 

We stopped at the clearing where we’d seen the dolphins earlier and snapped another shot of the Na Pali Coast…

… and hiked the mile back to Ke’e Beach, where we once again cooled off, got refreshed, and admired the rainforest mountains that were now behind us.  

On the walk back to the car, we passed a young couple decked out in proper hiking attire: boots, shorts, hats, backpacks, metal walking sticks.  (Dylan was wearing just his swim trunks and a tiny backpack; I was wearing my swimsuit and a cover-up, carrying only my camera case and a towel.)  We all recognized each other—they had been not far behind us during most of the hike.  They told us that they were avid hikers, but that after today’s journey, they’d need an entire day’s rest to recover.  I’m not an avid hiker.  Right now I feel like I could need a week. 

The only other thing worth noting is that we picked up a hitchhiker on the way home (they’re everywhere here)—a teenager girl who wasn’t very chatty, but was pleasant enough.  As soon as I got home, I took a shower and just laid on my bed for a good half hour.  I wanted to get some work done tonight, but there won’t be any time once I’m done posting this entry.  I suppose I’ll have to work long hours tomorrow and Thursday to make up for my adventures (Friday I’m going on a waterfall kayak tour)… but it’s beyond worth it.  :) 

To end with, I’ll just make it clear for all of you who are wondering (I’m sure there’s more than a few of you)… Dylan is a great guy, but just a friend, and that’s the way it will remain. ;)  It’s just nice—for both him and me—to have someone else on the island who’s in a similar situation (moved here recently for a job, staying a couple months, gets mildly homesick off-and-on, wants to explore the island with a companion). 

And on that note… goodnight everyone. :)