Kalalau Day Hike: A Mud Fest

We are somewhere on Kauai's north shore, in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, Western Hemisphere, Planet Earth. This part of the globe is wet and crazy, with rainbows and roosters thick as thieves.  The ocean is aquamarine and warm and has pounded the shore for enough time to create miles and miles of golden soft sand out of reef coral and shells.

I hear the surf and night insects and sometimes a car going by on the narrow highway beyond the yard, and there are loud drops of rainwater tapping on the lanai's awning, a corrugated metal surface.  No barking dogs.  No sirens or yelling people.  Nothing but various kinds of water noises, sometimes showers of rain.  There's also a white cat, Leroy, snoring next to me as he sleeps upside down the way cats do.

We got a wild hair this morning and decided it was a good morning to go hike on the infamous Kalalau Trail to a point two miles distant from its trailhead in Ha'ena State Park so we could see the Na Pali Coast.  Neither of us had hiking boots, bandana, or snack food to carry, but we set off anyway.

Let me tell you something:  The Kalalau Trail - if you hike beyond the two-mile marker where  Hanakupi'ai Beach lies - is an intense and challenging hike with unparalleled views.  It's steep in sections, slippery with mud, rocky, narrow and has a severe drop-off to the ocean, sometimes a thousand feet below. There are no facilities anywhere along its length; you must pack everything in on your own.  It's considered one of the most dangerous hiking trails in the U.S.  So, if you hear someone say they hiked it, buy them a treat; they deserve it.  The initial section to the beach is considered "moderately difficult" in comparison.

The four-mile round trip we undertook today was about all we could handle.  I was wearing Ecco sport sandals (like Tevas), nylon pants and a thin no-sleeve top.  I would have been a lot happier in hiking boots, but the sandals did okay.  I could not have gone any farther than I did with them, as sandals offer no ankle support and no toe protection really.

This is the rainy season in Hawaii, especially in Kauai's northern area where the trail is.  Hawaii's soil degrades into a gooey, sucking red mud that is slippery and tractionless when you're going up- or downhill.  But, off we went, feeling adventurous.  We strode past a host of signs shouting last-minute warnings about falling rocks, steep slopes, sun and wind exposure, and rocky surfaces.  We felt as ready as we'd ever be to hike this trail, even if that was not really true.  The trail is immediately thick with glistening lava chunks and dripping water from trees overhead, and it heads uphill at what seems like a 45-degree angle, although it's more likely less.  After a quarter of a mile, you are rewarded a beautiful view of Ke'e Beach and the pulsing blue Pacific that stretches to infinity. And then the rain starts.  But, so do rainbows.  Big, thick, vivid Walt Disney rainbows that practically sparkle on their own.

We picked our way along the boulder- and root-strewn muddy trail for the next two hours, stood in the lee of tall trees, hatless, while showers passed along the coast and rainbows beamed everywhere.  There were only a few serious uphill sections after that first stretch, so aerobically the hike was not bad.  But...the mud is treacherous and each footstep must be carefully placed or you are in some peril of doing a classic pratfall, landing on either your backside or some other bony aspect of your anatomy, graceless and embarrassed.  I managed to stay upright, but my dear husband hit the ground three times.  Oh, will he be sore tomorrow.

The trail is very popular because of its beautiful views of the tropical, rugged Na Pali Coast.  This coast is inaccessible for the most part unless you helicopter over it or take a boat or kayak down its length during calm-water months in summer.  The popularity of the day-hike trail means hundreds of human feet trample it into muddy oblivion on a daily basis, which turns the path into a wide slimefest most of its length.

Every single person we encountered on our hike today was friendly, and most of them were younger than us, which actually felt pretty good.  It's certain that if we hiked regularly, we would be more prepared for a tough trek, but we made it and feel pretty okay at the moment.  In my mind, I keep hearing the sucking slurp of our footwear in the brown muck of the trail - all sorts of gurgley, slippery, slimy sounds.  The round trip took us about five hours including a rest break on the beach.

To reward ourselves, we indulged in a long hot shower, put on dry clothes and then went to Princeville Center to find North Shore Grindz for exceptional (ono) hamburgers and iced tea.  On the way back home, we explored the taro field road in Hanalei Valley that is home to a National Wildlife Refuge.  It's backdropped by layer after layer of jagged volcanic mountain ridges that look like Chinese brush paintings.  We saw two very rare Nene geese, an endangered Hawaiian native bird.

Now the little cat next to me is sleeping more quietly and the day is over.  We're planning a trip to Waimea Canyon tomorrow, the grandest feature of the whole island.  But first, some sleep.