I have been woefully irresponsible lately... including keeping up with this blog...
But for the end of my story... when we last left our hero she was on the path home from Kalalau...
So I packed up my camp ate some granola bars, nuts and such and headed out, relatively early. It was overcast but not raining, a good day for hiking. Too worn and tried shoes, and a broken backpack, and my fabulous hat, set out along the path again. The first climb is hard. Loose sandy soil and a pretty immediate vertical climb for awhile. Once through that I settled into an easy pace and began my long journey back. I planned on either getting through it in one go or settling in at Hanakoa for the night and breaking up the hike. As it happened, the choice was once again taken from me.
After about an hour or two, the skies began their mockery of my progress. Light rains at first... enough that I didn't bother pulling out my raincoat or anything. It would rain and stop and rain and stop. It still wasn't bad hiking weather all and all and I pushed on... passing the unofficial 8-mile camp, I saw three young gentlemen, resting for a bit. Half a mile later, it was pouring. I ducked into a little shelter that I had noted earlier, a bush, similar to the one I camped under, with a good hollow in it. I knew that if I had to, I could wait out the storm here. I really didn't want to, but the trail was slick and I didn't like the idea of traversing it in this sort of rain. But with a light pack and a steady pace, I hadn't been doing bad. I didn't really want to go back to 8-mile. I could just snuggle down under the relative shelter and spend the night. I was hoping that the rain would pass and I could press on at least to Hanakoa though. Then I heard someone screaming. I had noticed her go by on the path a moment ago and worried I quickly left my brushy shelter and went out to see what was going on. She was in hysterics. Her hiking partner was a little down the trail and she had been screaming for him to wait for her. By the time I reached her she was with him and had calmed down a bit. Not wanting to interfere, I passed them and decided to carry on, damn the rain. Another few twists, up another hill, and over a very treacherous, slick, obnoxious, clay section that took all my capoeira balance and skill and several convenient roots as handles to get across, I came to a long curve where I was able to see the other side and the exposed rocky section before 7-mile. There I saw the three boys clinging to the rocks. They stood there for awhile and then turned around and saw me. I thought I caught the words "No Trail! Go Back."
The idea of no trail definitely disturbed me. Shrugging I moved back and hid behind the lee side of a boulder, waiting for them to come and report. The wind was blowing hard and the rain was gusting. They came up and said there were landslides and boulders and the trail was out and so on. We decided to find some shelter. We headed back and found a nice spot under some trees and banana leaves and soon the other couple I had seen joined us. The boys told their story which didn't help the womans nerves at all. I decided to build a fire. It was pretty wet and rainy but determination will prevail, and then the man produced an instalog... so much for my making fire in the rain skills... but instalogs are useful. Soon we had a smoking, but warm and pleasant fire and we began drying our soaked clothes and chatting about what to do next. Soon we discovered each other's stories. The three boys had a plane out that night and were in a hurry to get back. They had decided to only have one day in Kalalau and were hiking out. They weren't real experienced backpackers, they'd done some but had never hiked Kalalau before. The woman was talking about how to get a helicopter to take her out. She also wasn't experienced. The man was an experienced backpacker, but he was really quiet and also had never done Kalalau. I almost groaned cause I instantly knew my position in the party... While not having experience or any such things, I also was keeping my head the best and getting things done... I had the charisma and determination and so on... I was the leader.
So we hung out around the fire and talked and got warm. Eventually I told them that once the rain stopped for a bit I would run out and check how the trail was. Then we could decide whether we could go on to Hanakoa or if we had to go back to 8-mile. This is Kalalau... there's no cell service, no calling for help, no rescue, you have to get yourself out of sticky situations or pray there's someone around who can help.
Eventually the rain did let up. And, true to my word, I went back up (leaving my backpack behind) over the treacherous slippery clay section, around the big bend where I had spotted the boys, beyond along the rocks until I could see the switchbacks. The trail was fine, even the footing wasn't as bad as I had feared. That decided it for me, I was going to try to get everyone to head out. By the time I got back they had almost started come looking for me. The man and I talked a bit. We agreed that if we could, even though he and I were certain that we could do it, we needed to try to get everyone to go together. It immediately became a struggle. I had his vote but chatting merrily and encouraging brightly, the three boys and woman were still quite nervous about the idea. The boys came to the conclusion that they wanted to wait an hour to let the path dry. I didn't like the idea... I tried to convince them of the break in the storm idea and taking the opportunity presented, but they were adamant and the woman still didn't want to go at all. Finally I agreed. One hour. If it wasn't raining then we'd see about going on. So an hour went by and it didn't rain (this was after almost an hour an a half of talking convincing, exploring and waiting already so we were around two hours of no rain before we began this hour wait). So finally after the time went by, I had everyone convinced that I was either going to leave em all behind or take them all with me. We began packing up and getting ready for the next leg of the journey, heading out together.
Of course, the moment we were ready, it began pouring. Now a couple other people went past us before the downpour began, but there were no hikers coming from the other direction. I didn't blame them, it was crazy weather to be hiking in. So we settled in to wait but this time I told them that the minute the storm stopped, we had to move. We couldn't wait for another nice break like we had to sit around and twiddle our thumbs. I at least was going on as soon as it cleared. After another hour the rain stopped again. I hoisted my pack and said - let's go!
After some grumbling and nervous mumbles of wanting to stay, everyone packed up and we began moving. The main encouragement that I had been pulling was that it was helpful to have someone leading who was adventurous of spirit and so I would lead the way and all they had to do was follow and we'd all make it together. The first part was one of the hardest, the deep slippery clay. Bracing and using the roots, hand over hand, climbing along the slippery slope we got past it. One of the guys, the one just behind me, was pretty steadfast. Once the decision was made he helped, calling back encouragement and advice to his group. He could also see the difficult spots I got into before the others could. We went along the great curve and onto the exposed rocky section. The wind here was intense but at least the ground wasn't slippery. With both hands on the rocks, glancing at the ocean far below, we headed on, step by step. Then came 7 mile, the dreaded switchbacks. This was the spot I was oh so glad not to have had to do in the rain last time, it was hard enough dry. Taking a deep breath, we started up it. The lower area was a bit of a bowl so we weren't too nervous starting out. But the switchbacks climb higher and higher and were difficult every step of the way. Exposed and slippery there isn't much to hold onto and the ground is loose. "Hand and Feet!" Became the cry as I warned of each dangerous patch and scrambled slowly and carefully over it, once again blessing the balance I learned from capoeira. I could easily brace my body weight against my various limbs and shift them. We made slow progress, it was me then the boys then the couple. Step by step. Each dangerous patch I glanced back at the guy behind me and said "shh" then would smile and wink and call back, "this part is a little tricky, just keep your balance over your hands and feet and keep moving." Every time I wanted to say, oh don't worry things get easier now, but I would have been lying. So instead I just said, "We're doing great, keep digging your feet in, use your balance, stay low." The last section before the beginning of the brush was the worst. I stopped and felt myself sliding. I had to keep my feet moving to keep from slipping right off the trail. "This part is bad," I said and moved forward, working hard to figure out what to hold onto or how to do it. Eventually it was a matter of digging my feet in and staying as close to the left wall as possible and trying to place as much weight as possible on my hands. It was about twenty feet of hell. At one point it was a matter of reaching up over a corner and digging your hands into the dirt basically to keep yourself balanced. But once past that the trail widened a little and a quick scramble over some deep mud landed me on solid ground again. Standing up and taking a deep breath, I didn't want to have to tell my struggling band what I had just gone through. But I stayed where I was, perched on a bit of dry land, knowing that ahead it got easier with the underbrush and called back to everyone. "This part is rough! Just keep moving!"
Then I proceeded to talk each person through that section. One at a time until everyone had made it through. That was the roughest part, we had made it through. By the top of that hill, it started downpouring again. But we kept going, sending warnings back along the line of tricky spots and things to watch out for. The way was much easier now, despite the rain, and we were all in good spirits to be alive.
Then came the river. Between 6 mile and us was a very large river. Swelled from the rain with all sorts of warnings about not forging during rushing water. We waded in and out (already soaked not caring much about getting wet) trying to find a way across. Finding the best route, we were still pretty nervous about the fording. We stopped, uncertain. Now, I wanted to get across because I knew I had a pack stashed that had a lovely sleeping pad and sleeping bag waiting for me. But I could drive them across without a good reason, and it was getting darker, so I didn't think the boys would make their plane anyway. But then someone appeared on the opposite shore. He said that his group had forded by linking arms and walking across. "We've made it this far! We can do that!" He agreed to catch our packs, so we tossed our bags, one by one to him, then linked arms and headed in. It wasn't easy, but we kept each other anchored and made it across. Victorious!
The boys were talking about heading on, but it was only a half hour to dark and I soon learned they only had one headlamp between them. Eventually we convinced them to stay and pitched camp together. We build another fire of wet wood, cooked some food and shared our reserve stores with each other. Lots of victorious joy and laughter to be had. I woke in the middle of the night and stoked up the fire. The rest of the people were leaving at dawn to head out, but i was going to stay, rest, repack and take a slow meandering way, cause I had no where particular to be. But I still woke with them at dawn and restoked the fire for everyone and wished them well on their hike out.
Then, alone, I broke camp slowly, gathered up my stuff, repacked, ate some food and headed out myself. It was pretty clear and very warm, and I set a steady pace, once again burdened, but handling it well, even with my broken backpack. Soon it began to rain lightly but that caused some beautiful rainbows and double rainbows and soon I was singing with my enjoyment of how beautiful everything was. There were great friggate birds flying the drafts below me and the color of the ocean was wonderful with the rainbows arching over it. I hiked along happily... until it started pouring again. But I kept going, determined just to be done with this damn hike already. I thought if there was good shelter at 2 mile I might stop there... but there wasn't So I had to forget the next river, with some help from a day-hiker, and kept on the difficult up and downs and around between the start and two mile. At this point I really just wanted to be done with it and pushed on steadily. Taking breaks often cause my pack was getting water soaked and thus heavier. Stopping around 1 mile to fix my headphones, I suddenly felt like there was someone behind me, looking at me. I turned around and, sure enough, there was Andre, one of the musicians from Halloween. We hiked out the rest of the way together and he managed to find us a ride and invited me back to his place for the night. We were both soaked, exhausted and craving warm and dry of some sort. He also had a friend who could probably drive us to a laundrymat.
Sleeping in a bed was a luxurious experience. The next day we went to do laundry and he and his housemate dropped me off at a hostel where I could get the hot shower I needed so desperately and get to the airport the next day for my flight to visit Ruth Chang, an old family friend of the Chapmans, in Oahu for a couple days... That should have been one of my most luxurious and relaxing nights... instead it became another in a long line of insomnia... this time from pain. I was kept awake by a terrible toothache that no amount of chomping on Ibuprofen could relieve. Before I left in the morning I had an appointment for a dentist the next day (saturday) after I landed in Oahu.
Ruth met me at the plane and we became fast friends. She is a wonderful lady. I had a room in the height of luxury in an attached apartment in her house. But by that time I was in some amazing agony and it was pretty obvious. She drove me to my appointment where i got the glorious new that I needed a root canal... I was supposed to fly out in two days. And it was a weekend, no one was open or available to do it.
Long story short, after hours of battle on the phone by my glorious mother, some fantastic generosity on Ruth's part and a lot of waiting, dealing with pain, codine, sickness, and desperate phone calls, I managed to get an emergency appointment on monday, get my flight delayed for a week and have a place to stay with my glorious host. And, I got to spend an extra week in Hawaii... besides miserable pain and a HUGE dent in my trip funding, I have no complaints. The following tuesday, the 17th, I got on the airplane destined for Narita.
FAREWELL PARADISE!!
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