Island Trails

Island Trails' 2011 Video Summary

2012-01-03T22:18:00.000-08:00

2011 was good fun! Within our crew, there weren't any major injury(s) like last year. Our crew had a couple close calls, but nobody wen make. (Excuse my pidgin.)

There were a bunch of trails discovered, and lots cleared. And there was certainly a big and obvious surge of new people around the island setting aside their "rubbah slippahs" for some good 'ole hiking shoes. Not that it's a bad thing. Getting sweaty and dirty in the mountains is a hell of a good time when you're with your buddies. But with more people on the trails, mountain rescues were noticeably frequent and all over the news. At one point I remember there being over forty rescues in one month, all hiking related: poor HFD.

With all drama aside, 2011 was definitely the year of exploration for us. From our backpack trek on an outer island, to a gluch with not a single human footprint, to a ridge that only goats trample on, to a spot on a local TV show, and to some pictures featured in Hawaii Magazine, I'd say we covered a lot ground, literally and figuratively speaking.

Despite the exposure, 2011 was the year with the lowest page views. Don't get me wrong, though. The site was booming with the highest visitor traffic on record for Island Trails in the first seven months or so this year. But recently, the page views have taken a dramatic nosedive. Why? Part of the reason is that I'm too lazy nowadays to scrounge up pics, edit video, force a write-up through the keyboard, and immediately post what recent hikes we've done, leaving those who visit Island Trails regularly to give up on future updates. (Sorry, guys. I'll try my best to speed up the updates.) But the main reason for the site's low visitor traffic is the influx of new hiking blogs. Research an Oahu trail on Google, and you'll have more then enough options to browse through. Island Trails is almost four years old. Who wants to read a hiking post about Kuli'ou'ou Ridge that's almost four years old? I wouldn't. We all want fresh info. Fresh pics. Fresh video. "What is there now?" "What wasn't there before?" "Is the trail even open?" Probably not.

With that said, look for Island Trails to post hikes we haven't done yet and maybe even redo those trails we've done and posted before. We haven't completed every trail yet; we still have a lot more to go. Shit, I haven't even stepped foot on Bowman or Aiea Ridge yet! So with the new year upon us -- and the new GoPro2 HD Hero in my pack -- it looks like we got some work to do. We met and hiked with a lot of great people in 2011, all of whom we will have long-standing friendships with for as long as we have our two legs. Hopefully 2012 will be the same, if not better. Looking forward to it. Aloha!

Piei Makai - November 12, 2011

2011-11-19T10:50:00.001-08:00

A couple weeks ago I was fortunate to have completed a portion of ridge that I thought was un-hikeable. Thanks to an invitation by Pete Clines, who actually did it about ten years prior, my preconceptions were shot down, and what I thought was un-doable, turned out to be doable. In fact, it was more enjoyable than I had expected. Coupled with an awesome crew and great weather, it is now one of my favorite loop hikes.

Pu'u Piei is a peak situated on the northwestern wall of Kahana Valley located on the northeastern side of Oahu. The main trail to Pu'u Piei climbs a steep spur ridge then takes a left to the actual summit of Piei. Few, if any, turn right and take the little-used route heading makai (towards the ocean) along a craggy, tooth-like ridge. From the bottom of Kahana Valley, looking up at the "teeth," the makai portion heading away from Pu'u Piei looks a bit menacing, and a tad crazy. But with a little rope and meticulous hand and foot placement, the ridge offers up a good upper body workout, with insane views of Punalu'u Valley, Kahana Valley, Kahana Bay, and the coastline leading from Punalu'u to Kahuku.

On hand was a crew of seven, including myself: Pete Clines, Chenay Borja, Duc Ong, Rosie Ho, Dave Webb, Laredo Muredo, Chase Norton, and Ryan Chang. We met at the Kahana Valley parking lot nearest to Kamehameha Highway around 8:30am, headed on foot a short ways into Kahana Valley, and took a right on the road that lead us to toward the Pu'u Piei trail. The last time I did Pu'u Piei I miraculously found the main trail leading to the top. I say "miraculous" because for those who have tried to find the main trail to Piei for the first time would definitely agree that it is difficult to locate.

The same thing happened to us this time around. Following an obvious trail below the spur ridges, we sparked the notion that we were headed the wrong way toward the fishing lookout known as Kapa'ele'ele Ko'a. Little did we know that if we hit the lookout, we would've hit the main Pu'u Piei trail. Instead, we backtracked and crossed a dry stream, then resorted to following the stream uphill. Once out in the open we could tell that we were on the left side of a broad ridge clad with uluhe. Our errant decision didn't threaten our forward progress, for we knew that if we pushed uphill through the uluhe, we would eventually link up with the main trail leading up to Piei. After a tiring ten minute bushwhack uphill, we finally hit the main trail.

Relieved, we sped our way up the spur ridge and topped out a little past 11am. Duc and Chase decided to tag the peak of Piei, while the rest of us took a rest and waited for their return. A quarter before noon we headed makai towards the teeth. Dave decided to call it a day and turned around.

A small rock face with an old cable had to be negotiated, and past that the "trail" was pretty straightforward. A small amount of hacking here and there was needed to create a swath but nothing was entirely overgrown. We encountered a cool looking rock feature that resembled a ten-foot high tombstone. From there some minor climbing was involved, but nothing overly strenuous. Downclimbing was the norm, and the rocks were brittle in spots, but keeping a low center of gravity on the downclimbs and constantly determining our next step was key.

Along the way were a few old black cables that were either broken or just too old to rely on. A couple of those black cables were also anchored and hanging off of ridiculous looking portions of the ridge that really had no merit. So we pretty much made forward progress by ignoring the cables, keeping our pace slow.

The ridge narrowed considerably in spots. Comparable to other dangerous ridge trails, the drops were modest but still had us on alert. One wrong move and we would have got stabbed by the surrounding vegetation, cracked our heads open, broke our bones, or all of the above.

Our first major obstacle was a large notch in the ridge. Debating on a contour, we decided that dropping to the left side of the ridge with the aid of Chase's rope was the best way to go. Perfectly situated directly above what we intended to drop down from was a small hole in the ridge. From there it was roughly a twenty-foot drop to a narrow strip of solid ground surrounded by vegetation. The hole was our anchor point. We would loop the rope around the hole and make our way down slowly with whatever foot holds we could find. Pete, of course, elected to go first. Second was Chase, third Chenay, then Duc, then Rosie, then Laredo and Ryan. When it was my turn I realized that getting down would require putting all faith into the rope. Foot placement was tricky, but the rock was surprisingly sturdy. About 3/4 of the way down, my arms began to cease, and I found myself struggling to get down the last eight feet or so to solid ground. I took a quick rest to regain my strength, and finally made it down to where Ryan was.

With the first large notch behind us, we moved on. I spotted another one of those old black cables, this time hanging off the right side of the ridge. It looked as though it lead to a contour trail that would bypass what we would encounter next.

A bit of uphill climbing led us to the top of another large notch. This time, the drop wasn't so forgiving. One slip to the left and you'd get some airtime before hitting something. At the top of the notch was an old white rope and a very useful O-ring. However, the rope and O-ring were attached to a weak shrub that would definitely not bear the full brunt of someone's weight. Using rope on the downclimb would require gentle pulling and extreme caution to not rip out the shrub from its roots. Pete took out some webbing and looped it around the O-ring. Again, in the same order, we descended one by one. The downclimb we had to negotiate was similar in size to the previous notch we successfully passed, but there were more footholds and ledges to boost our confidence on the way down. But like the last notch, the remaining eight feet or so was devoid of footholds. Pete helped us down the last several feet, his hands acting as ledges. He put both hands on the rock face, had us step on his hands, and he'd instruct us to slowly move downward all while cradling our feet in his hands. That's one technique I've never used while downclimbing, and it was a useful one at that.

With the second notch behind us, we headed further. A smaller notch in the ridge had to be negotiated, but no rope was needed. A short uphill climb led to the top of broad crag with a view to die for. We rested a bit and ate lunch, then headed steeply downhill to the remainder of what we could see was the saner portion of the ridge. We followed an obvious swath to the last spur ridge that would make its steep descent to Kamehameha Highway. We were back at our cars at 3:30pm.

My friend Scott Fisher successfully completed the same route solo one week after we did it. He confirmed that the old black cable that was dangling off the right side of the ridge after the first notch did actually lead to a contour trail, avoiding the second notch altogether. That's good to know. I'll be sure to use that contour the next time I do the hike. Piei Makai is definitely worthy of a rehike.

To see more info on Pu'u Piei, check out the following link:
Pu'u Piei - May 10th, 2008

Laredo on the ridge.

Pete on one of the narrow sections along the ridge.

Looking down the coast from Punalu'u to Kahuku.

Looking back at the 1st notch. (photo: C. Borja)

Laredo, negotiating the downclimb from 2nd notch.

Looking back at the 2nd notch. (photo: C. Norton)

Clinging. (photo: C. Borja)

The hardest part behind us. (photo: C. Borja)

Ryan on the ridge. Chase in the distance on the broad crag. (photo: C. Borja)

Heading to the last crag. (photo: C. Borja)

Ryan, downclimbing one of the smaller notches.

Piei teeth. (photo: C. Norton)

Heading down the makai-most spur ridge to Kamehameha Highway.

Kahana to Wahiawa - October 8, 2011

2011-10-26T21:41:00.000-07:00

Hike long enough on Oahu and you begin to notice that the island is small. It also becomes obvious that you can hike trails -- or blaze your own -- and find yourself in another town on the other side of either the Ko'olau mountain range or the Waianae mountain range. And if you plan accordingly, a lot of those "over the mountain" treks can actually be done in a day.

In my pre-hiking days, if someone told me, "Yeah, you can walk over that mountain range to your house in a day," I wouldn't believe it. Take Kahana Valley to Wahiawa for example? I'd think, "Yeah, right!" "How is that possible?" "Who in their right mind would do that?" Well, a bunch of my friends and I did it for my birthday, and it was long, wet, muddy, and cold as fuck.

Hiking with me was Kelven Del Rosario, Johhny Martin, Daniel Napoleon, Lei Yamasaki, and Ryan Chang. We started around 8am in Kahana Valley, a massive valley situated on the northeastern side of Oahu. From Kahana, we ascended the recently cleared Pauao Ridge trail to the Ko'olau summit. From there we hiked southeast along a short, beautiful stretch along the KST to the Schofield-Waikane trail. Upon reaching the Schofield-Waikane trail, we descended it all the way to California Avenue to Wahiawa Heights. A half-mile walk down California Avenue, and we ended at my house.

The day started off perfect for hiking: clouds were high, the tradewinds were blowing, and an intermittent drizzle would cool us down. It was whole different story along the KST and down Schofield-Waikane. The KST jaunt had its fair share of no-rain moments, but the majority of it was spent in clouds and being pelted by heavy downpours, especially coming down the Schofield-Waikane trail. Almost the entire time coming down Schofield-Waikane, we were getting pummeled by endless amounts of rain to the point where we just took off our shirts -- not Lei -- and jetted down the trail to keep our body heat in check. A little after 7:00pm, we were at the water towers at the top of California Avenue. From there we walked to my house and finished around 7:30pm. Drove Kelven's car all the way back to Kahana to drop Lei, Ryan, and Johhny off at their cars; arrived in Kahana a tad before 9pm. Long day, but well worth it.

To see previous write-ups, pictures, and videos of the trails mentioned in this blog post, check out the following links:
Pauao Ridge - October 18th, 2008
Schofield-Waikane Trail - July 5th, 2009
Pauao Ridge (Trail Clearing) - July 10th, 2011
Poamoho to Wahiawa - July 24th, 2011

photo: D. Napoleon

photo: L. Yamasaki

Looking toward Punalu'u Valley. The prominent peak near the middle of the photo is Pu'u Piei.

photo: D. Napoleon

photo: L. Yamasaki

photo: D. Napoleon

View of Kahana Valley and its bay through the bushes. (photo: D. Napoleon)

photo: D. Napoleon

Heading toward the Schofield-Waikane trail along the KST. (photo: D. Napoleon)

photo: D. Napoleon

photo: L. Yamasaki

photo: D. Napoleon

Finally at the road and Schofield-Waikane trailhead. (photo: L. Yamasaki)

Walking down California Avenue. (photo: L. Yamasaki)

Missile Flats (Kaukonahua) - September 18, 2011

2011-10-21T00:25:00.000-07:00

Big mahalos to Jason Nakasato and Shannon Shimata for giving me directions to this jump spot. And also thanks to Melissa Hernandez and Tony Mercado for identifying it. I've lived in Wahiawa for the majority of my life, and I had no idea this existed.

Located in upper Wahiawa, there's a 35-foot jump spot into Kaukonahua Stream known as Missle Flats. The trail is easy, short (about two miles round trip), and offers a great workout, but it can get you lost fast. The trails above Wahiawa are endless, with numerous junctions and side trails. If you don't know where you're going, you can get really disoriented. Tall trees and a vast undeveloped landscape will make a dummy out of someone who is not familiar with the area. Directions to this spot are even more confusing to put on paper, or on the internet for that matter. So, if you're looking for directions here, I can't help you. My directions will make no sense, and it probably won't be correct. I know how to get there if I'm actually hiking there. Sorry.

On this outing, we were greeted to a raging stream, all due to the constant rains a couple days prior. The water was brown as brown could get, but we jumped in anyway. (Can you say "lepto?") Kinda gross, but we had a blast. Definitely gonna come back when the water level drops a bit and the stream color gets back to normal. A portion of this hike uses the Wahiawa Hills trail.

For more info on the Wahiawa Hills trail, check out the following links:
Wahiawa Hills - April 25, 2009
Wahiawa Hills - August 20, 2010

photo: D. Napoleon

Kaukonahua Stream. As brown as it gets. (photo: D. Napoleon)

photo: D. Napoleon

Ryan Chang, taking the leap. (photo: D. Napoleon)

View of Ryan jumping from the water.

Piliwale to Lulumahu - September 10, 2011

2011-10-18T20:04:00.000-07:00

Last time I did Piliwale, I fell off. The trail leading to the notch was overgrown then, and beyond the notch there were very little ropes affixed for assistance. There were also a ton of bees that set up camp along the southeastern side of the ridge which weren't very happy of us being there. To make a long story short, the bees attacked and won, forcing me to fall head first off the ridge, with a scar left on my head as a reminder to never do it again. Yeah, well, actions speak louder than words.

Fast forward to 2011 and I found myself back on the ridge that almost took my life. Only this time the trail and ridge was way different from how I remembered it. The trail leading to the notch was pretty well paved, there's a contour section around a rock face just before the notch that I had no idea existed the last time I did it, and the ridge is littered with rope, some of which is not even needed, but that's besides the point. The point is I finally got to complete it. Joining me was Lei Yamasaki, Ryan Chang, and Daniel Napoleon. Daniel was with me on the last attempt, and he, too, fell off, tweaking some back muscles and getting some awesome muscle relaxers as a plus. But now, since completing Piliwale, I've come to realize that it really isn't that bad. It just climbs, climbs, and climbs constantly to get the top of the highest peak in the Ko'olau mountain range, Konahuanui (K1). Don't get me wrong, though. Piliwale is not for beginners. The ridge is narrow, crumbly, and very steep, with large drops on either side of the ridge. One for the books, I must say. Because we didn't only do Piliwale: we descended Lulumahu Ridge on the other side, too. No bees this time either. Hallelujah.

Lulumahu Ridge is a little-used ridge jutting south from Konahuanui (K1) to Nu'uanu Valley. Near the summit of K1, the trail is very obvious, then disappears as the elevation decreases. And when I mean "disappears", I mean that there is no trail at all until a large saddle in the ridge is reached. The upper portions of Lulumahu Ridge are loaded with native Hawaiian plants that are only found on Oahu and nowhere else in the world. Had we had known this before the hike, we wouldn't have descended it.

After the saddle, the trail was still partially overgrown but in way better shape. We reached an old rope at a steep section (Dayle Turner?) that aided our descent to a spot on the ridge that indicated we were almost finished. Following the ridge further, our hopes that it's direct route would eventually bottom out somewhere in Nu'uanau Valley was botched. We encountered an insanely overgrown section where the ridge dropped off into oblivion. Ryan was the guinea pig, tying a rope to a tree, and then jumped down into the "oblivion," only to disappear in the thick uluhe brush. After a short scare, Ryan called out that he was okay, so we then backtracked, brainstorming other options as to how we were going to get down into Nu'uanu without another mishap.

Two ridge spurs to the west were obvious escape routes. One was higher up, which meant we had to go back upridge to the steep rope section. That option seemed pointless considering that we were at the apex of another side ridge that was broad but looked to be choked with vegetation. We opted to descend it, with Daniel leading the way. Lower and lower we went, eventually hitting a wide swath marked with pink ribbons. It was the recent work of Josh Serrano, who has been clearing Lulumahu Ridge from the bottom-up. Relieved, we pushed on, following Josh's ribbons all the way to Lulumanu Stream. Exhausted and hot, we headed toward Lulumahu Falls to cool off. After a quick rinse, we headed out the stream trail towards the Nu'uanu Reservoir and out onto the Pali Highway. Waiting for us was Keahi Ka'a'awa with drinks and food. It was an awesome day hike: all nine-and-a-half hours of it.

To see my previous hikes up Piliwale Ridge, check out the following links:
Piliwale Ridge (Trail Scout) - May 8, 2009
Piliwale Ridge - October 10, 2009

photo: D. Napoleon

Looking toward the Konahuanui Windward route. (photo: L. Yamasaki)

Descending Lulumahu Ridge looking toward K2. (photo: L. Yamasaki)

photo: L. Yamasaki

Cyanea koolauensis. (photo: L. Yamasaki)

Looking back toward Konahuanui.

(photo: L. Yamasaki)

Waimanu - August 19-21 2011

2011-10-01T11:41:00.000-07:00

It's been over a month since I backpacked to Waimanu Valley. Since then, I've been back home on Oahu, working, sitting in traffic, and getting in the usual day hike every weekend; familiar views, familiar terrain: beautiful in its own right by Oahu standards, but compared to the Big Island, everything I've done doesn't come close to Waimanu. Waimanu is surreal in every sense of the word. It is wild, alive, and it affirms every breathtaking expectation you have before you get there, multiplied by a hundred when you arrive. The smell of salt air, the howling tradewinds, the rushing streams, the dark grains of sand: Waimanu is definitely an out of this world paradise. From fishing, to day hiking explorations in the valley, to bodysurfing, or just laying back at camp or on the black sand beach: Waimanu Valley has it all. I once heard a phrase that claims "experience frees the mind." The Waimanu experience frees the soul.

Waimanu Valley is located in the Hamakua district on the Big Island of Hawaii. The valley is lush and filled with water that flows from the upper reaches of the Kohala Mountains, resulting in tall and spectacular waterfalls deep within the valley. The rain water flows into Waimanu Stream and empties into the ocean. The majority of the valley is a large wetland, with only a narrow strip of walkable terrain existing at the base of the northern valley wall. During the times of ancient Hawaii, Waimanu Valley was an ahupua'a (ancient land division) and was once inhabited by native Hawaiians.

Today, no one lives in Waimanu, but camping is allowed with a permit that can be obtained by the Department of Land and Natural Resources. Waimanu can be accesed by boat or by foot along the Muliwai Trail from Waipio Valley. The Muliwai Trail is an eight mile contour trail that weaves in and out of thirteen gulches between Waipio Valley and Waimanu Valley. The start of the Muliwai Trail is located on the northwestern end of Waipio Valley. The trail steeply ascends on switchbacks, topping out on the northwestern wall of Waipio where the trail starts meandering through lush gulches and fast flowing streams. The trail is mostly shaded with much of the views obscured. After the tenth gulch, there is a large hunter's shelter that can be used as a camp site if needed. From the shelter, you walk in and out of three more gulches and finally see the first view of Waimanu Valley. The trail then descends steeply along the southeastern wall of Waimanu Valley to Waimanu Stream, which has to be crossed and is the last obstacle to negotiate before setting up camp.

The Waimanu campsites are meticulously set up and numbered from one to nine near the bay's coastline. Campsite #1 is nearest to Waimanu Stream on the southeastern side of the bay. Campsite #9 is at the northwestern end. Campsite #2 is the largest campsite and can perfectly accommodate a large group and has an unobstructed view of the valley. Because of its luxuries, Campsite #2 is the most popular and is often used by "squatters" -- those without permits. For first time visitors, I'd recommend Campsite #2. For those who are visiting Waimanu for a second time or more, Campsite #9 would be the camp of choice, especially with a group of two to five people. It is closer to Keawewai Springs (the water source), and it conveniently sits right near the section of beach that is the preferred spot to swim.

So what is there to do in Waimanu? Plenty. Doing a day hike in the valley can bring you to four waterfalls: Wai'ilikahi, Kaka'auki, Lahomene, and Waihilau. Wai'ilikahi Falls, a multi-tiered waterfall with a combined height over 1,000 feet, is frequented the most. At the base of the falls is a large, deep pool, perfect for swimming. The trail to Wai'ilikahi is pretty straightforward, and relatively easy to follow. Ribbons mark the way. A bit of trailblazing is required to reach the seldom visited falls deeper in the valley. If you're hungry, either side of Waimanu Bay -- Laupahoehoeiki and Laupahoehoenui -- is great for fishing and picking opihi. The valley has a lot of food options as well, from guava, mountain apples, and even prawns, to name a few. And if you're into riding empty waves with not a single soul around, there are nice surf breaks along the entire stretch of sandbar and along the rocky Laupahoehoenui coastline.

I was very fortunate to experience Waimanu with great company. Aside from my usual hiking pals tagging along -- Ryan Chang, Lei Yamasaki, and Brian Bautista -- I also invited several avid hikers from Oahu known as the Lost Trailblazers -- Reanne Solomon, Justin Ugalino, David Chatsuthiphan, and Cory Yap. We shared stories of our past hiking adventures and future hiking adventures, we shared food we caught from the ocean and the valley, and we shared some hard liquor all around our toasty campfire. Cory Yap runs the AlohaFrom808.com website; David is the owner of UnrealHawaii.com. Both are extremely talented photographers with top of the line camera equipment. If you haven't seen their websites yet, you have to check those out. The pictures they shot from our Waimanu trip are mind blowing.

To get more information on how you can get to Waimanu Valley, check out the following link:
Waimanu Campsite -- Division of Forestry and Wildlife

For more pictures and even more information about Waimanu, check out the following links:

Unreal Hawaii by David Chatsuthiphan
Installment #1
Installment #2
Installment #3
Installment #4

Aloha From 808 by Cory Yap
Installment #1
Installment #2

Wailoa Stream in Waipio Valley. The first stream that has to be crossed on the way to Waimanu.

Crossing Wailoa Stream.

Walking near the Waipio Bay coastline to the start of the Muliwai Trail.

photo: B. Bautista

Waipio Valley. (photo: B. Bautista)

The first view of Waimanu. (photo: B. Bautista)

Descending into Waimanu, looking toward Wai'ilikahi Falls. (photo: B. Bautista)

Crossing Waimanu Stream.

Starting the fire.

Settled in a Campsite #2.

Looking toward the Laupahoehoenui coastline. (photo: L. Yamasaki)

Looking toward the Laupahoehoeiki coastline. (photo: B. Bautista)

Brian, taking it all in.

Pre-packed harami steak that the Lost Trailblazers brought in.

Fresh prawns and ophi.

Night crawlers.

Waimanu Valley in the morning.

Fun looking wave breaking right in front of Campsite #7.

Panorama of Waimanu Bay.

Wai'ilikahi Falls.

Group shot at lower Kaka'auki Falls. (photo: L. Yamasaki)

Kaka'auki Falls. (photo: J. Ugalino)

Exploring down the Laupahoehoenui coastline.

Found a perfect, empty wave far along the Laupahoehoe coastline. Surfer's dream.

Using a raft to get our packs across Waimanu Stream. (photo: B. Baustista)

photo: L. Yamasaki

Our last look at Waimanu Valley and its spectacular waterfalls. (photo: B. Bautista)

The hunter's shelter. (photo: B. Bautista)

Back at Waipio.

Video by David Chatsuthiphan (UnrealHawaii.com)

Video by Ryan Chang (http://2-bupaina.blogspot.com/)

Video by Justin Ugalino

Bolohead Ridge - May 12, May 15, & August 14, 2011

2011-09-06T23:00:00.000-07:00

"Bolo is lolo."

The phrase says it all. Bolohead Ridge is definitely not the preferred route to the top of Mount Ka'ala. In fact, it shouldn't even be a route. But I've been to the top of Ka'ala way to many times to not notice "that ridge" that sits to south of the main Waianae-Ka'ala trail. I think that what we hiked on only goats walk on. There wasn't a single proof of evidence that someone had been there before on our top-down approach: no ribbons, no rubbish, no old ropes. From a distance the ridge has rock features that look unclimbable and skinny dikes that rival some of most narrowest ridges on the island. It could very well be the most dangerous, alternate route to the top of Oahu's highest mountain peak. And we touched almost every inch of it.

Hiking up to Mount Ka'ala from Waianae Valley is a spectacular day hike. There are other ways to get to the top of Ka'ala, but those routes are difficult to access, overgrown, or both. The most direct way is to hike up the Waianae-Ka'ala trail. The trail is beautiful: you start in the lush expanse of Waianae Valley and climb a steep spur ridge to the top of Ka'ala. There's another spur ridge that parallels the Waianae-Ka'ala trail. It's called Bolohead Ridge, and it was named by Steve Rohrmayer because of a ridge feature that looks like the face of a man with a bald head. It's an intimidating feature, and it actually resembles a large gear cog. Each side of the cog is steep, with massive drops on either side. There are also other obstacles along the ridge that need to be negotiated, but the cog feature is the most difficult. In recent memory, no one has completed the ascent or descent of Bolohead Ridge.

The following pictures and video edit was compiled over three separate days. All days were equally exciting, with the third day being the only approach from the top-down. The hike from the top-down is surprisingly easy going, but finding it is a chore because navigating through the Ka'ala bog is a bitch. Going top-down is steep, but absolutely breathtaking. There is a long stretch of exposure along a wide open ridge that is littered with goat trails until a point where the ridge gets dangerously steep and narrow near the Bolohead feature. From the bottom-up approach, the ridge is just as breathtaking. At a certain point, the ridge narrows to about a foot wide just before a large, near-vertical rock face that has to be climbed to get to the the Bolohead ridge feature. Both sides of this ridge feature are extremely steep. The side facing the ocean is a sketchy scramble over loose dirt, grass, and rotten rock. Climbing up is not recommended; roping from the top-down increases the odds but not by much. The Ka'ala facing side of the ridge feature is entirely exposed and mind-boggling narrow. Like the other side, the rock is crumbly, if not worse. The top of the Bolohead feature is heavily vegetated, probably harboring great anchors for rope.

The only other people I know that attempted this trail was Dayle Turner and Steve Rohmayer. They turned around at a certain point when they did not like what they saw ahead. I'm pretty sure we went a bit further, but now I know why they turned around. Bolohead is not a trail. It's definitely not for beginners looking for a good thrill, either. It's just plain stupid once you hit the massive obstacles that stand in the way. In its true form, Bolohead Ridge is just another goat trail.

photo: A. Carcueva

photo: J. Nakasato

photo: C. Delima

Pauao Ridge (Trail Clearing) - July 10, 2011

2011-08-13T14:27:00.000-07:00

So, it's open. Finally. I scouted Pauao Ridge back in October 2008. It was choked with uluhe back then, but just recently, a group of hikers decided to reopen the path. It took the group eight long outings to clear the entire ridge, and now that it's wide open, it is hoped that the ridge will get regular hiker traffic to ensure its sustainability. The last HTMC outing along this ridge was in 2004. All the recent hard work may finally pay off as the club might add Pauao to the club schedule once again. Although I haven't climbed the entire ridge to the Ko'olau summit, this could possibly be one of the nicest, advanced ridge trails on the island. Pauao Ridge is a strenuous, ungraded ridge trail to the Ko'olau summit. It's goes up and down multiple times until the last steep approach to the summit. Now that Pauao is cleared, it opens up several alluring options along the KST. Schofield-Waikane, Waikane, and Poamoho trails are very close in proximity, creating the possibility of epic day hikes along the best windward contour section along the KST. There are views in every direction of Punalu'u Valley and Kahana Valley, with the surrounding peaks of Pu'u Piei, Pu'u Manamana, Kanehoalani, Pu'u O Kila, and Ohulehule.

Want to help keep it open? Here's how to get there:
The trail starts in Kahana Valley. Walk on the paved road. You'll see a hunter check in box. Keep to the road on the right and go around a gate. Walk until you reach a watertank. A trail will veer off to the right and uphill. Follow the ribbons. The trail will immediately start climbing to reach the crest of Pauao. Once at the ridge crest, turn left and follow the ridge all the way to the Ko'olau summit.

Read the past report of my 2008 outing along Pauao Ridge by clicking the following link:
Pauao Ridge - October 18th, 2008

At the back of Punalu'u Valley looking toward the ocean.

On the ridge.

Kahana Valley to the right. Punalu'u Valley to the left. Pu'u Piei in the middle.

Looking into the back of Kahana Valley, with Ohulehule to the left.

Pu'u Pauao in the distance.

A carving of my name back in 2008.

Kaupo 3 - August 6, 2011

2011-08-09T14:33:00.000-07:00

Nate Rubio and I hiked the third ridge of Kaupo Cliffs this past Saturday. We had another hike planned, but it would've taken way too long, and Nate needed to be at work by 2:30pm, so a shorter hike had to suffice. I hiked from Kaupo 2 to Tom-Tom last September with Nate Yuen, Ryan Chang, Duc Ong, and Matt Chessey. Before that trek, Nate Yuen and Justin Ohara repaved the old Hawaiian route and it is now done more than often since it was exposed on the internet. In fact, there now is an actual trail leading to the base of the cliffs. Compared to the last time I hiked Kaupo, the trail is now wide open, marked, and very easy to follow.

Back in September, as I hiked up Kaupo 2, I couldn't help but notice the ridge to the right, Kaupo 3. It was obviously steep just like Ridge 2, but what set Kaupo 3 apart from Kaupo 2 were several daunting rock faces. Doable? I didn't know. So I put it on my bucket list of trails to attempt and nothing really materialized. Soon after completing Kaupo 2, several groups tackled the same route. It wasn't before long that Kaupo 3 was completed by others as well, proving its "doability."

The climb up Kaupo 3 is short but very steep. A lot of contouring and slabbing was involved to progress further, making it a "trial-and-error" type of trek to the KST. The condition of the rock faces along the ridge varies from brittle to solid, so testing everything we grabbed and stepped on was essential. I had one close call at a contour section around a certain rock face where I was standing on a narrow spot blanketed with pine needles. I slipped on the needles and fell about eight feet downhill, miraculously finding a tree (the only one) to grab onto to pull myself back up. Had there not been a tree, I would've slid down a couple more feet off a ledge. Got scraped a bit on my arms, but at least I'm still alive. Falling off would've been lights out for me. The ridge eventually meets up with the Kaupo 2 trail and then tops out at a point along the KST. From there we headed west, hit some powerline towers, and descended the Tom-Tom trail. Total time: three hours.

For more pictures and details, check out Nate Rubio's report of the hike by clicking the following link:
http://HobbitAndShire.blogspot.com/

For more info and write-ups about Kaupo Cliffs, visit the following links:
Refinding Kaupo Cliffs by Nate Yuen
Kaupo Cliffs - Kaufaux Cliffs by Nate Yuen
Kaupo Cliffs to Tom-Tom - September 19th, 2010

photo: D. Napoleon

photo: N. Rubio

photo: D. Napoleon

photo: N. Rubio

Up, up, up. (photo: N. Rubio)

photo: N. Rubio

Nate Rubio's video edit:

Poamoho to Wahiawa - July 24, 2011

2011-08-02T01:45:00.000-07:00

Hiked from Poamoho Ridge to Wahiawa Heights last weekend. It was cold, rainy, muddy, and wild. In terms of beauty, not many hikes can touch this one. The route traverses some of the most remote and undeveloped terrain on the island of Oahu, with an incredible two mile walk along the Ko'olau summit trail. Exactly how awesome was it? Unforgettably awesome: in fact, the route is so awesome, that we all agreed to do it every year for as long as we're still alive and able to hike. Yeah, it's that beautiful.

Poamoho Ridge is a gem among all Oahu state trails. It's located in one of the most desolate areas on Oahu in the the Ewa Forest Reserve. It's short, it's easy, and it tops out at arguably the best view on the island. It also is home to many native Hawaiian plants. Poamoho Ridge is a graded trail, meaning it is cut below the crest of the ridge, making for relatively easy walking all the way to the Ko'olau summit without feeling much elevation gain. To hike the Poamoho trail, a permit must obtained from the Department of Land and Natural Resources. The permit allows access to a six mile dirt road and three locked gates. The gate combinations are supposedly changed every week; the combos are listed on the permit for the week that is chosen. The road, used primarily by hunters, passes a large ranch and heads deep into the Ko'olau mountain range. As of July 2011, the road is in very good shape. A two-wheel drive vehicle could make it, however, a particular section near the end of the road may be tricky when it's wet.

Our day started at 7am at the top of California Avenue in Wahiawa. From there we staged two vehicles, jumped in Brian Bautista's truck, and was shuttled by his dad all the way to the Poamoho Ridge trailhead just before the military gate on Pa'ala'a Uka Pupukea Road. The weather was overcast and surprisingly cool for a summer day in July. The tradewinds were blowing, and the mountains looked ominous with wispy, silk-like clouds basking the peaks along the Ko'olau summit.

At around 8am, we reached the official Poamoho trailhead and parted ways with Brian's dad who then drove the truck back out. The trail was muddy but very groomed. En route we passed two hunters and several of their hunting dogs. Superb views of the Waianae Mountain Range and the Mokuleia coastline could be seen. We paralleled Poamoho Gulch to the south and could see Poamoho Stream flowing audibly. At a certain point, the rain started to come down hard, making for even muddier conditions all the way to the summit. I was envious at the sight of Nate, Christina, and Daniel donning rain gear; Brian and I were without jackets. At around 10:40am, we reached the summit, only to be completely socked in with no chance of a view of the windward side. It was cold and very wet.

After a short break at the Poamoho summit, we turned right along the Ko'olau Summit Trail and hiked through the muddiest terrain I have ever hiked in. Skirting mudholes were impossible, so walking in the mud, at times shin high, was the norm. The rain was in full force, and the trail turned into a flowing river, with shin high waterfalls trickling at our feet as we gained and loss elevation. After about twenty minutes of walking we reached the Poamoho Cabin, doors unlocked. I was surprised at the condition of the shelter. It was clean, cozy, and harbored everything needed to survive. Water catchment behind the cabin flowed underneath the cabin in a PVC pipe with a spigot at its end. Inside the cabin at the far wall were four bunks complete with mattress pads, sleeping bags, and pillows. Large plastic boxes in the cabin contained food (rice, bread, trail mix, peanut butter and jelly, etc.), cooking supplies (pans, pots, portable stoves, etc), and clothing. There was a bench, folding chairs, a radio, a deck of playing cards, and even mouthwash. By mountain standards, the cabin was more like a hotel, far from rundown, but far from what Paris Hilton would be satisfied with. A log book near the window contained writings of previous visits by other hikers. Lots of stories of rat poo and cockroaches, but we didn't see any. The last entry was around May 28-30, 2011, Memorial Day Weekend. We jotted our names down, took a half hour break to wait out the rain, and headed back out on the summit trail at about noon.

A few short sections of trail along the muddy and vegetated leeward side soon made its way to a small meadow. The trail then switched to the windward side. The initial windward section is unbelievably clear, and it would be safe to say that you could actually ride a mountain bike on it, though I don't recommend it because there are large drops to the windward that could prove fatal if someone fell. Still in the clouds with an occasional downpour, we trekked the windward section all way to Pu'u Pauao. It was at Pu'u Pauao where the clouds finally lifted and we were able to see the amazing views over looking Punalu'u Valley and Kahana Valley. I pointed out to the others the section of trail along Pauao Ridge that Daniel and I helped clear several weeks prior. I double-ribboned the intersection of Pauao Ridge and the KST, and we then headed for the final windward stretch to the top of the Schofield-Waikane trail.

In relation from Poamoho to Pauao, the stretch between Pauao and Schofield-Waikane was far more overgrown. Uluhe, palms, and clidemia choked the trail, making for slow progress to the Schofield-Waikane junction. We also encountered three large washouts, all of which were the only dangerous sections along the entire hike. The first washout was a steep descent over crumbly and slippery rock. The second was a narrow walk on loose dirt. The third washout was a minor, narrow hump over unstable ground.

At 2:30pm, we finally reached the top of the Schofield-Waikane trail and had lunch. As happy as we were to make it to top of the Schofield-Waikane trail, we still had seven more miles of hiking to reach the top of Wahiawa Heights. We started our descent down Schofield-Waikane at 3pm at a brisk pace. The walk down Schofield-Waikane was uneventful except for moments of heavy rain that kept us cool the whole way. At 4:50pm, we reached the East Range military road, and were back at the top of California Avenue at 5:50pm. Total distance: a little over twelve miles. Total time: nine hours and forty minutes.

To do Poamoho Ridge, visit the following website:
Na Ala Hele - Poamoho Ridge Trail

To get access for Schofield-Waikane, visit the following website:
Na Ala Hele - Schofield-Waikane Trail

To see past write-ups along the Schofield-Waikane trail, click on the following links:
Schofield-Waikane Trail - July 5th, 2009
Kaukonahua Stream (North Fork) - March 28th, 2010

On the Poamoho trail. (photo: B. Bautista)

Looking into Poamoho Gulch and stream. (photo: B. Bautista)

photo: B. Bautista

Looking toward Kaena Point. (photo: D. Napoleon)

photo: N. Rubio

In the clouds. (photo: B. Bautista)

Plaque at the Poamoho summit indiacting the mileage to other points along the Ko'olau Summit Trail. (photo: D. Napoleon)

Cold, windy, rainy, and in the clouds at the Poamoho summit. (photo: B. Bautista)

This is how the view from the Poamoho summit should look on a clear day. This photo was taken in November 2010. (photo: B. Bautista)

Heading south along the KST. (photo: N. Rubio)

The Poamoho Cabin. (photo: N. Rubio)

On the Poamoho Cabin porch. (photo: B. Bautista)

Poamoho Cabin log book.

On the leeward side of the KST. (photo: N. Rubio)

photo: D. Napoleon

photo: N. Rubio

photo: D. Napoleon

photo: B. Bautista

photo: D. Napoleon

photo: N. Rubio

photo: B. Bautista

photo: N. Rubio

What a view. (photo: B. Bautista)

photo: B. Bautista

photo: N. Rubio

At the Schofield-Waikane terminus. (photo: B. Bautista)

Looking toward the Waianae Mountain Range and our long way back down to Wahiawa. (photo: B. Bautista)

Nate Rubio's version:

Malaekahana to Laie - July 2, 2011

2011-07-14T14:16:00.000-07:00

I had my sights set on connecting Malaekahana Ridge and Laie Ridge for well over a year. I don't know why it took me so long to do it, but I finally completed it recently. It's a beautiful twelve mile loop that reaches far into the remote and undeveloped section behind Laie Town. This particular loop hike was awesome because it included a short section along the Ko'olau Summit Trail (KST). It was a first for me, for I had never topped out along the Ko'olau summit in the Ko'olauloa district. The summit trail section was in good shape and well marked thanks to a crew of four that did some minor clearing on a backpack trek from Pupukea Heights to Waikane a few weeks prior. Although it was a bit overgrown at times and extremely muddy, the swath was very obvious as it contoured leisurely around the numerous hills of the Ko'olau summit ridge. An hour-and-a-half jaunt along the summit trail and we were at the Laie Ridge junction. The hike down Laie Ridge was a breeze compared to the hike up Malaekahana. Malaekahana is an ungraded ridge hike, where the trail follows the crest of the ridge, undulating all the way to the KST; Laie is graded, its trail contoured below the crest of the ridge, making for easy going on the hike up or down. The hike took us a total of nine hours to complete.

*Note: In order to hike either trail, a permit must be obtained by Hawaii Reserves, Inc. located in the Laie Shopping Center. For more information, contact Hawaii Reserves, Inc. at 808-293-9201.

To view previous hikes to Laie Falls and Malaekahana Falls, visit the following links:
Laie Falls - March 28th, 2009
Malaekahana Ridge and Waterfall - May 31st, 2009

photo: L. Yamasaki

About 20 minutes before the summit, an alternate route to the KST heading toward Pupukea comes into view.

The upper sections of the Malaekahana Ridge trail passes through areas abundant with native palm trees. (photo: L. Yamasaki)

Walking on the ridge. (photo: L. Yamasaki) [Photo credit is wrong indicated in the picture.]

The view along the upper section of the Laie Ridge trail looking toward Hau'ula. (photo: L. Yamasaki)

Lei calls this section of the Laie Ridge trail "The Green Waterfall."

photo: L. Yamasaki

The signed junction to the waterfall. From here it is an hour-and-a-half to the starting point. (photo: L. Yamasaki)

Ulupaina - June 30, 2011

2011-07-09T14:06:00.000-07:00

Ulupaina is four mile loop hike in the foothills that edge the Valley of the Temples Cemetery in Kaneohe. Although short, Ulupaina offers up a great workout and can be done in less than three hours. The hiking route is a loop and can be done either way, with the counterclockwise direction being the most strenuous.

Hiking the loop clockwise, the trail coutours through small ravines along the left side of a ridge. At a certain point, about half an hour from the start, the trail takes a right and ascends gradually until it levels out near the junction for the route back out. Past the junction further upridge, the hike tops out at 960 feet elevation at a power line tower at the very base of the Ko'olau mountain range. Taking the junction for the route back out is mostly downhill on a broad ridge laden with ironwoods. The route is obscure at times, and the trail can be overgrown in some sections, but the trail always stays on top of the ridge crest and leads directly back to the start of the hike.

The trailhead is located on the far left corner of the Valley of the Temples Cemetery nearest to Kahekili Highway. A good landmark is the Ko'olau Center on Hui Iwa Street. Park on Hui Iwa Street. Walk across Kahekili Highway at the traffic light toward the cemetery. To the left is a pet cemetery with a low wall uphill. Walk parallel to the wall to the far end corner of the cemetery. The trail starts in the forest and is marked with pink ribbons.

To view more pictures and another write-up of my last outing along the Ulupaina loop trail, click on the folowing link.

Ulupaina - July 28th, 2009

Wiliwilinui - June 28, 2011

2011-07-07T23:18:00.000-07:00

The Wiliwilinui Ridge trail is one of the most popular and easiest ridge routes to the Ko'olau summit. It starts at the top of the Waialae Iki subdivision and follows a dirt road that eventually turns into a hiking trail all the way to the Ko'olau summit. On a clear day, views of the windward side of Oahu can be seen from the top. At around five miles round trip, the trail caters to hikers of all levels.

For directions, click the following link:
Na Ala Hele directions the the Wiliwilinui Ridge trailhead

For more pictures and write-ups, check out my past blog posts about the Wiliwilinui Ridge trail by clicking the following links:
Wiliwilinui - June 14th, 2008
Wailupe Loop - January 24th, 2009

Looking back at Wailupe Valley. (photo: B. Bautista)

Looking towards Diamond Head and Waikiki. (photo: B. Bautista)

Going back down.

View of Wailupe Valley from the road.

Kalihi Saddle - June 26, 2011

2011-07-03T11:25:00.000-07:00

Found this one by accident. We were looking to top out at Pu'u Kahuauli along the Bowman maintenance trail but found this trail instead. The weather was cold, windy, and rainy, making for a slippery and muddy trail. Plus, hiking in the clouds made us lose our sense of direction, and when we topped out on the summit, we found ourselves on the treacherous Kalihi Saddle near a prominent feature Pete Clines dubbed "Witch's Hat." A scout of the saddle ridge would have happened had the weather been good, but it was far too windy and wet to explore. The hike was short -- an hour tops -- but access to this trail is a problem. There is no where to park at the beginning, so someone had to drop us off in the morning and pick us up when we were done. Half fail, half success: at least we know where the saddle trail is now, but where the hell is the Bowman maintenance trail?

photo: B. Bautista

View from our top out point along the Kalihi Saddle. (photo: B. Bautista)

photo: B. Bautista

Kalauao - June 12th, 2011

2011-06-16T12:02:00.000-07:00

When it rains, head to Kalauao Valley. I like to refer to it as the Maunawili Falls of Aiea, except that the waterfall in Kalauao Valley needs a good downpour to start flowing. Plus, the odds that you'll be there by yourself are pretty good even though the trail gets trampled on more than often. As an in-and-out hike, Kalauao is short at about four miles round trip. The trail is muddy, steep at times, and slippery along the stream trail. When it's flowing, the waterfall gushes, and a pretty large, deep pool sits at its base, perfect for jumping off the available ledges near by. From the waterfall, you can either turn around and go back out the way you came in or explore beyond the waterfall upstream. It is also possible to do Kalauao as a loop. That option serves up more of a challenge as the junction out of the valley is obscure, little used, and very steep. Eventually it rejoins the Aiea Loop Trail.

Directions for the hike can be found below:
The hike begins at Keaiwa State Park. Click this link for directions. Go to the very top parking lot and park your car there. You'll see a bathroom and a picnic area. Take the Aiea Loop Trail. You'll eventually reach a power line tower on your right. Keep walking a little ways and you will see a very obvious junction on the left. Take that junction. You will reach another power line tower and will walk directly under it. Keep going. The trail will then open up and you'll find yourself gradually heading downhill on a broad ridge with paperbark trees and eucalyptus. At first you will see an indistinct trail sharply turning right. DO NOT TAKE THAT TRAIL; IT LEADS NOWHERE. Instead, keep following the ridge downhill until you see another trail on the right that is more distinct and marked with ribbons. It, too, turns a sharp right and heads steeply down hill. You will eventually hit the stream. Turn right and follow the trail upstream. End at the waterfall and turn around, or take the trail on the left to explore further upstream.
To make the trail a loop continue upstream for about 20-30 minutes. Keep looking on your right. You will see a marked junction heading uphill. The first junction is a very steep pig trail that is not recommended, but is doable. The second junction is the route that is used the most and is well-marked and well-trodden. Both junctions eventually intersect at a spur ridge heading straight toward the Aiea Loop Trail. Once you're back at the Aiea Loop Trail, turn right for the 20-30 minute walk back to your starting point. You can, however, turn left for an even longer hike along the Aiea Loop Trail. Eventually you'll get a view of the H-3 Freeway and Halawa Valley. Then the trail will split. Turn right and follow the trail back to the parking lot.

For more pictures and write-ups about my previous outings on Kalauao, click on the following links:
Kalauao Falls - May 23rd, 2008
Kalauao Loop - March 14th, 2010

photo: B. Bautista

Getting our feet wet.

photo: L. Yamasaki

The waterfall. (photo: B. Bautista)

Video below by Ryan Chang:

Wailele Gulch - May 29th, 2011

2011-06-02T13:57:00.000-07:00

Back to Wailele. Yep. After one week of hiking the same place, we were back. The last time we just hiked to the first pool/waterfall. Within the past week, I found out that the first waterfall is also dubbed PCC Falls and Turtle Falls. PCC Falls seems apt, so I'll call it that from now on. It's the waterfall that people usually visit, and then when they've had enough, they turn around and head back home. The REAL Wailele Falls is the waterfall that is five miles in at the very back of Wailele Gulch. Our intent was to reach the back of Wailele Gulch, but the stream at Wailele had other ideas.

Wailele is a quite a gulch. It's lush, serene, peaceful, and, more than not, untouched. The stream was still clear and flowing, just as I remembered it. The birds chirped, the wind rustled through the trees: why is there not a traditional Hawaiian song named "Beautiful Wailele"? Someone needs to make one. Someone had marked the stream route with red tape since the last weekend we were there. I don't know why. It's hard to get lost when all you have to do is follow the stream mountainward. The stream, vibrant as ever, harbors giant prawns and o'opu. The prawns in Wailele are ridiculously huge, almost the size of a small lobster. Lei snagged one for a photo op; the prawn spread out its long limbs and "smiled."

We reached the first pool and took a quick swim before heading upstream. Above the first pool is a nice little camping area under some ironwoods. Nearby, nesteled in bushes, we found a geocache. Inside the cache was a camera and log book. The camera looked pretty beat up, and ants were colonizing inside of the camera, so we wrote the day's date and our names in the log book and began our journey upstream.

Beyond the first pool there is no trail whatsoever. Getting our feet wet was the only option. The stream, though, never got too deep to the point where it couldn't be walked in. But because we hiked directly in the stream, our progress was very slow. We passed our first sign of something manmade about an hour from the first pool -- a steel cable anchored horizontally to a rock wall on the left side of the stream. Another 45 minutes in and we reached another steel cable, this time connected horizontally to a rock wall on the right, extending across the stream to a rather large rusted tin can and a splintered block of wood. Not sure what the cables were for, but we would use it as landmarks to indicate our progress on the way back -- first cable: 45 minutes to the 2nd cable. 2nd cable: one more hour to the first pool.

Further into the gulch we went. We then entered the largest tangle of hau I had ever seen. The hau plant is a native plant in the Hawaiian islands. Ancient Hawaiians used the inner bark of hau to make cord for slingshots and spears. Hau branches grow close to the ground and intertwine. It is a beautiful plant, but a downright nuisance to hike through, especially in a narrow stream. The hau tangle we encountered was massive. It clogged the entire stream and even slowed the flow of water to a trickle. At first glance, the hau was such a mess that we debated on whether or not we should press on. Closer inspection proved that it would be a daunting task, but navigating through the mess was doable. Ryan Chang and Kyle Rennie and his two other friends decided to turn back. I, with Lei Yamasaki and Keith Mahon, decided to push forward. Over, under, up-and-over -- the hau tangle took a long time to pass through. The stream opened up periodically, only to greet us with other short stretches of tangled hau.

Once we passed the hau tangles, it was very apparent that we were in no-mans land. Not a single shred of evidence showed that anyone had been past the hau tangles: no machete marks, no ribbons, no footprints on the muddy embankments, nothing. It was a bit eerie, and the gulch walls were noticeably higher and closing in as we hiked further and further upstream. The gulch walls acted as a corridor for the breeze, the cool wind eerily blowing downstream. Looking upward we could see what we thought to be the very back of the Ko'olau mountain range, hoping that our trek would soon terminate at our destination. Instead, the stream kept bending at every turn, seeming to never end.

After four-and-a-half hours of hiking in the gulch, we finally reached a site worth dawdling at. A quaint little falls with a nice clear pool at its base situated in a remote area near the base of the Ko'olau mountain range. We set down our packs, took some pictures, and prepped ourselves for the chilly swim in the mountain pool. Keith elected to climb the falls to see what was upstream. He came back and said that the stream just kept going and going. Who knows how long it would take to reach the back of stream? The stream could bend more than we had wanted it to. It was 2:00pm, and we started at our cars at 9:30am. Considering the amount of time and labor it would take to head out, we decided to not head upstream to find the real Wailele Falls. It was a bit disappointing, but the regret was washed away once I jumped into the mountain pool below the falls. The water was instantly shocking, yet revitalizing. We ate our lunches, tied an orange ribbon to a guava tree on the right side of the pool, wrote our names and date on the ribbon, and made the long, arduous trek back to our car.

On the way back, we passed the landmarks we pointed out that would indicate our homeward progress. We passed more prawns, more o'opu, and the hau tangle was still as taxing as it was heading in. We reached PCC Falls at around 5pm, took a quick swim in the pool, and headed back on the main stream trail to the farm road. Ryan had texted Lei on her cell phone that he and Kyle and friends had made it safely back to their cars but was worried about our situation. Lei texted him and reassured him that we were fine. Once on the road, we looked back at the Ko'olau mountain range and were taken aback at how far we had walked. "Somewhere in there," I pointed for Keith. Somewhere. An understatement. We were as far as you could get. Our bodies were exhausted. Eight-and-a-half total hours along a stream -- unheard of on Oahu! I kept saying "never again, never again." But now, as I sit here typing this, I wouldn't mind going back. With an early start, we could definitely make it to Wailele Falls -- the real one. An overnighter would suffice, too. But for now, the real Wailele Falls sits at the back of the gulch, lonely and cascading, waiting for a camera flash to show off its rarely viewed beauty. That is what intrigues me. That is where I want to be. That is what I want to accomplish. That is why I will be back.

Monster prawn. (photo: K. Mahon)

PCC Falls. (photo: K. Mahon)

The Wailele Cache. (photo: L. Yamasaki)

photo: L. Yamasaki

The "trail" through the hau tangle. (photo: L. Yamasaki)

In the stream. (photo: L. Yamasaki)

The pool and waterfall after hiking four-and-a-half hours upstream.

Keith spotted a cool looking rock. A bowl fit for a menehune? (photo: L. Yamasaki)

Waiakeakua - May 27, 2011

2011-06-01T22:35:00.000-07:00

Waiakeakua is a lesser known stream and waterfall hike near the eastern wall at the back of Manoa Valley. It is similar to the Ka'au Crater trail in Palolo Valley: it is rather short to the first waterfall, and it possible to climb multiple waterfalls to progress further. However, in relation to ascending with rope, Waiakeakua is more dangerous.

The waters of Waiakeakua are clear and cool. Hawaiian royalty often basked in the pools of Waiakeakua during the summer. It is also the site of Hawaiian folklore. Waiakeakua means "Water of the Gods." It is said that two gods, Kane and Kanaloa, arrived at Hanauma and traveled all the way to Manoa Valley. Along the way, Kane's younger brother, Kanaloa, would complain of thirst and hunger. Kane would penetrate the ground with his staff and create a waterhole for he and his brother to drink from. The waterholes from Hanauma to Manoa Valley are said to be created by Kane, for the waterholes were resting spots for both Kane and Kanaloa's during their arduous journey.

Because of this legend, Hawaiian chiefs would often order men to capture water from the falls of Waiakeakua at night. The darkness and aura of Hawaiian spirits often turned back many, and only the bravest would come back with the pristine water of Waiakeakua. The water was so pristine that there were noticeable bubbles in the catchment brought back to the chief. If there were no bubbles found in the water, the chief knew that it wasn't from Waiakeakua.

The hike to Waiakeakua is short: about one mile. The trail leisurely follows upstream to the first waterfall. At twenty feet high, the climb up the first waterfall seems a bit intimidating, but there are strong ropes and many grooves and ledges near the waterfall to make the climb a heck of a lot easier. The rock, though, is very slippery. Beyond the first waterfall is another waterfall about fifty feet high. It is possible to climb the second waterfall with the aid of strong ropes situated on the left side of the falls. The climb is very steep and very slippery. The last fifteen feet to the top is near vertical. Once at the top of the second waterfall, it is possible to hike further to see a couple more waterfalls, none as big as the second. Again, climbing the waterfalls beyond the second waterfall is definitely doable. On this outing, though, I decided to turn back once I reached the third waterfall. Going down the second waterfall was equally challenging as climbing up.

For those in the know, Waiakeakua is an awesome hike. At only around two miles round trip, it offers up a good workout and a spectacular Oahu stream and waterfall experience. The trail is well-trodden but hard to spot off of the Pu'u Pia trail. With that said, take a stroll along the Pu'u Pia trail to find it. You will not be disappointed. It is definitely one of the clearest streams I've seen, and one hike that I will definitely be doing again many times in the near future.

Keith climbing the 1st waterfall. (photo: L. Yamasaki)

Lei climbing the 1st waterfall. (photo: K. Mahon)

Climbing up the 2nd waterfall. (photo: K. Mahon)

As small as it looks, this pool is deep enough to jump into.

Toad.

Pool near the start of the hike.

Wailele Falls - May 17th, 2011

2011-05-23T00:43:00.000-07:00

This past Thursday before work I finally got to do a trail that had been in my sights for a quite a while. The trail was a short hike that led to Wailele Falls, a quaint waterfall located on the northeastern side of the island of Oahu. I had seen pictures of the waterfall but had no idea how to get there. The only clues I had access to was a random email I received from a guy named Alan Niwao. He told me where he started and attached a few pictures of the roads he hiked to get to the stream leading to Wailele. Although the pictures weren't much, it still led us in the right direction. A big mahalo to Alan for providing me with the info. Wailele Falls is classic.

Joining me on the hike was Daniel Napoleon, Kristen Jones, Ryan Chang, Brian Bautista, and Keith Mahon. We parked at Pounders Beach Park and headed to the Koloa Gulch trailhead. I followed what I remembered in the pictures Alan sent me and soon found ourselves on private farm lands. It was a bit sketchy. At times we hiked directly on the trails through cropland, keeping an eye out for anyone who spotted us. Running through my mind was the scene from the movie "The Beach" where a group of friends run into a massive farm of weed, only to find out their presence is unwelcome. Sadly, they get shot at by the farm owners, and one or two of them die. I can't remember. Anyway, we didn't die; no one was around to shoot us when we passed through the croplands. Lucky us.

Blindly following a maze of dirt roads, we passed more farmland heading deeper into the mountains. We finally hit a well defined trail that paralleled a lively stream. A half hour of criss-crossing and rock hopping along the unmarked stream trail, and there it was: Wailele Falls. The photos I had seen on the internet does no justice. Wailele Falls is truly something to witness in person. Despite its low height, it is still an awesome sight, with a very lovely open area to just sit down, relax, and hear the rushing mountain water cascading eight feet into a large, deep mountain pool perfect for swimming. As the sun shined, the bluest color I had ever seen of a fresh water mountain pool radiated from the pool's surface, amplifying an already surreal landscape. We took a dip, snapped some photos, and headed back quickly along the stream trail to make sure we'd make it back in time for work.

The hike back was faster. We ended up following a road -- still passing farmlands -- all the way to Kamehameha Highway. I believe the dirt road we followed on our way back is the correct route; it only took us about fifty minutes to get back to our cars compared to the hour-and-a-half it took from the Koloa Gulch trailhead. Starting from the Koloa Gulch trailhead turns out be just a big mess.

Wailele Falls is definitely worth checking out again. In fact, I may be back there in several weeks to explore upstream. From what I saw, the trail keeps going deeper into the mountains. And from what I've heard, there's an even bigger waterfall about four miles in. We'll see. For now, I'm just glad I know where it is.

Following one of the roads, not knowing where it leads to. (photo: D. Napoleon)

Passing an open field.

Finally at the stream. (photo: B. Bautista)

Wailele Falls. (photo: B. Bautista)

Here's Daniel standing at the top of the waterfall. Gives a pretty good perspective of exactly how high the waterfall is. (photo: B. Bautista)

Lua'alaea Falls - May 10, 2011

2011-05-17T00:11:00.000-07:00

Lua'alaea Falls is a tall, lonely waterfall located in the back of Manoa Valley. The trail to Lua'alaea Falls branches off the extremely popular Manoa Falls trail. It is short and easy, and much more wild than the Manoa Falls trail. (Refer to the following link for trailhead directions to Manoa Falls: Manoa Falls Trailhead Directions.) Initially, the Manoa Falls trail starts off on a road. It then enters a high canopy forest and takes a left on a narrower path through lower trees. The junction to Lua'alaea Falls is located on the right after a leptospirosis warning sign. Heed a narrow crossing of Waihi Stream and follow the trail going away from the stream. The trail eventually finds its way to Lua'alea Stream and finally to Lua'alaea Falls. Go after a heavy downpour; the waterfall is more spectacular during a heavier flow.

photo: L. Yamasaki

photo: D. Napoleon

photo: L. Yamasaki

Maunawili Falls - May 5, 2011

2011-05-16T22:16:00.000-07:00

Maunawili Falls is one of the most popular waterfall hikes on the island of Oahu. The trail winds through the lush foothills of Maunawili Valley, crossing streams and offering amazing views of the Ko'olau mountain range. At about three miles round trip, the muddy trail ends at a waterfall about thirty feet in height with a deep swimming hole that is perfect for taking a dip after working up a sweat. It is also an ideal family hike.

For directions to the trailhead, click on the following link:
Mauanawili Falls trailhead directions

photo: B. Bautista

Ka'iwa Ridge (Lanikai Pillboxes) - April 28, 2011

2011-05-03T14:20:00.000-07:00

Over four months have passed since the year started. It's been eventful, to say the least. Looking back on the hikes I've done so far, it seems that every trail was well off the beaten path. All were either nuts, long, or both. I've come to realize that I've ignored the trails that are used quite often, where the path is wide open, the views are still awesome as ever, and you can actually exchange a smile crossing paths with other hikers along the trail. Smiles are scarce when plowing through thick vegetation, machete in hand, and backpack heavy. The familiar worry and butterflies in the stomach were non-existent this past Tuesday. It was a hike that reminded me of why I started hiking in the first place: for fun. And that's exactly what it was: not scary, not difficult, not death-defying, just fun.

There are several very popular hiking trails around the island of Oahu. Ka'iwa Ridge is one of them. It's also known as the Lanikai Pillbox trail -- "pillbox" because of the bunkers that are passed along the ridge. I never had the opportunity to hike Ka'iwa Ridge, so I wanted to give a try. Although short, the hike serves up a good workout and has nice views in all directions. It's dog-friendly and perfect for a family outing. It's also done by the Hawaiian Trail and Mountain Club as a night hike during a full-moon.

The Ka'iwa Ridge trail follows a dry, windswept ridge above the community of Lanikai on the eastern side of Oahu. Two bunkers are passed en route to the top. From the second bunker (elev. 565 ft.), there is the option of turning back the way you came, or you can explore past the second bunker and follow an obvious trail heading inland. The trail will eventually split. First, you'll see a junction on the right that leads to a gated community bordering the Mid-Pacific Country Club. Then a little ways past that junction is a trail coming in from the left that heads to Wailea Point. The latter option makes for a longer outing.

The views throughout the hike are awesome. Atop the bunkers looking to the ocean is the twin islets known as Na Mokulua. Moku Nui is the largest isle; Moku Iki is the smallest. To the left is Kailua Bay; beyond is Mokapu Point. To the right is Waimanalo Bay, with Manana Island (Rabbit Island) and Makapu'u Point in the distance. Behind, looking inland, are the tall mountain peaks of the Ko'olau mountain range. In the forground is the three-peaked ridge known as Mount Olomana.

Directions for this trail can be found by the clicking the following link:
Na Ala Hele Ka'iwa Ridge Trail Directions

Approaching the 1st bunker. (photo: B. Bautista)

View from the 2nd bunker looking toward Na Mokulua. (photo: B. Bautista)

photo: L. Yamasaki

Looking toward Wailea Point, Waimanalo Bay, Manana Island, and Makapu'u Point. (photo: L. Yamasaki)

The view looking toward Kailua Bay and Mokapu Point. (photo: L. Yamasaki)

Continuing on the trail beyond the 2nd bunker.

The towering peaks of the Ko'olau mountain range in distance.

photo: B. Bautista

In the top left portion of the photo is Mount Olomana.

Heading down.

Ohulehule Southeast - April 16, 2011

2011-04-19T11:25:00.000-07:00

Standing tall at the back of Kahana Valley is the pyramidal peak known as Pu'u Ohulehule (elev. 2,260 ft.). Although it's not as tall as other peaks on the island of Oahu, it still takes a lot of strength, cardio, and a big chunk of the day to hike. There are four routes to climb Ohulehule, the northwest ridge being the most popular. The other climbable routes are from the southwest ridge, the northeast ridge, and the southeast ridge. Stuart Ball, author of the highly successful "Hiker's Guide to Oahu," claims the route to the top of Ohulehule along the southeast ridge as "the most dangerous hike on the island." Our planned route would take us up the southeast ridge and down the northwest ridge. It was the toughest hike we ever did.

The southeast ridge of Ohulehule gets little to no hiker traffic at all. It is narrow, very steep, and extremely overgrown with vegetation. The route was used by the Hawaiian Trail and Mountain Club until an outing along the ridge caused a hiker to fall off. After the incident, the HTMC vowed to never hike the southeast ridge again, and the trail went into disuse.

In 1999, two Danish women roamed Kahana Valley and took the trail leading up to the northwest ridge of Ohulehule. They reached the peak, only to be intimidated by the route going back down. So instead of heading back down the northwest ridge, they tried descending the southeast ridge. On their way down, they reached a certain point and realized that the steepness of the southeast ridge was worse than the northwest ridge. Not wanting to take the risk of being hurt or killed, the two women stayed put on the southeast ridge for seven days until they were miraculously rescued on the eighth day. More details about the incredible story can be found by clicking here.

Despite the foreboding incidents, Nate Rubio -- gung-ho as always -- asked if I was down to ascend the southeast ridge and descend the northwest ridge. I jumped on the opportunity and invited two other people to join us: Kelven Del Rosario and Kale Tulang.

Kelven picked me up in Wahiawa at 5am. We headed to Kahana Valley to meet Nate and Kale. Nate parked his car just outside the Kahana Valley housing community and hopped in Kelven's car with Kale. We then drove to an unnamed road at the very bottom of the southeast ridge leading to Ohulehule that separates Waikane and Hakipu'u Valley. We parked on the unnamed road, and at 7am, walked to the road's end where a concrete barricade blocks further progress for vehicles. Not going beyond the concrete barricade, we took a right and headed uphill into the forest, eventually intersecting a well-defined trail coming in on the left. We broke out of the forest and caught our first glimpse of the awesome views from above of the surrounding area. The day's weather was hot, cloud-free, and lacking any form of breeze: good for views, but the major cause of our heavy and persistent perspiration. Further along the ridge, we spotted an ironwood grove, our first out of many rest stops. Ohulehule in the distance, was a far, far way, and free of clouds at its summit.

The trail then began to undulate, becoming more vegetated but still with a discernible path to follow. The ridge itself began to narrow as well with sizable drops into Hakipu'u Valley. An hour-an-a-half had lapsed, and we reached our second rest stop at yet another ironwood grove. Beyond the second ironwood grove, the trail seemed to disappear altogether and we found ourselves contouring while following pig trails. The contour trails were especially necessary at large dike formations. From afar, the imposing dikes looked intimidating to climb; however, upon closer inspection, pig trails contoured to either the left or right sides.

We eventually reached an old white rope leading off the southeast ridge to a spur ridge coming in from Hakipu'u Valley. There wasn't much of a trail near where it intersected the southeast ridge, but well below was nice open ridge that I'm sure was or can be used as a shortcut to gain the southeast ridge. Beyond this junction we spotted a very faded pink ribbon covered in moss. More ribbons were spotted along the way, also faded and weathered. The trail now was gone.

A huge dike section, a hundred feet or so, stood before us. It was definitely climbable, but we all opted to contour to the right. Shortly after the contour we were finally at the base of the steep and final climbs to the summit of Ohulehule.

The first several climbs were very steep over a very narrow ridge. At one point the ridge narrowed to two shoe widths! Also, there were very old ropes and cables installed where it was needed, and some were so old that it frayed with the slightest tug. A spectacular and unstable boulder section made up a portion of the ridge. We installed a rope at the first boulder; it wasn't necessary, but Kelven had a hard time climbing it so we installed one for him anyway. The rest of the way up the boulder section is roped as well. What makes the boulder section so frightening is the drop into Hakipu'u Valley on the right and the hidden drop into Waikane Valley on the left. The exposure at the boulder section is the "real deal." One mistake, and it's over. Kelven never experienced anything so mentally taxing in his entire life, so Nate and I had to coach him, step-by-step, handhold-by-handhold. Nearing the top of the boulder section the grade of the climb got even steeper. Coupled with vegetation directly in the path of the ropes, it was difficult maneuvering our bodies to progress further upward. It was at the top of the boulder section where I pulled on a yellow rope and it snapped. Luckily, I was near the top where the yellow rope was anchored, so I was fortunate to make the split second decision to fling my arms up to the tree the rope was attached to. If I had been further down, I would've slid down slope quite a ways, or maybe even off the Waikane side of the ridge. The cables were the most trustworthy during the ridge climbs. And the most trustworthy cable was installed at one of the toughest climbs I've ever encountered.

After the boulder section is the last climb to a false peak. The climb is over the softest, most unstable terrain I've ever hiked on. The rock, too, is mind-boggling brittle. The slightest touch or step and the ground crumbled below our feet. I was last in line to tackle the steep section, which I estimate to be about 130 feet or so of unnerved climbing. Kale and Nate made it up without a problem. Kelven on the other hand had major trouble nearing the top of the climb. Dirt and rocks fell from under his feet all the way to where I was. He let out a cry for help.

"Help me! I'm stuck!"

His upper body strength could no longer support his weight along the rope. Nate and I told him to rest and to regain his confidence. Surprisingly, after a quick rest, Kelven pulled through and made it to the top of the cable. I was next. As I was going up I was shocked at how physically taxing it was. My arms and upper body was burning, and I had a long way left to the top of the cable. I situated myself on an unstable dirt ledge to the right for a quick break before the ground below me all of sudden gave way. At one point I was just dangling, dirt and dust flying in my eyes, sweat dripping off my chin. With every last bit of energy I had left in me, I pulled myself up with only my arms, relying on the cable to hold all my weight while the ground disintegrated below me. I made it to the top. I screamed out a "fuck you" and plopped myself down on the nearest flat spot above the cable.

Just after the false peak the ridge leveled out. The vegetation was still thick, and the hardest part was now behind us. The last section to the top was a minor scramble over grass, and before we knew it, we reached the peak of Pu'u Ohulehule at 2:30pm, seven-and-a-half hours from our starting point. Descending the northwest ridge felt amazing, primarily because there was an actual trail, and the ropes for the descent were in awesome shape. When asked how the northwest ridge felt compared to the southeast ridge, Kelven replied, "This shit's a playground!" When we reached the first stream crossing at the bottom of Kahana Valley, we lowered our body temperatures by drenching our skin in the cool, clear stream water. Nate even jumped in with all his clothes on. It was revitalizing and refreshing. From the stream we made our way to the Nakoa Trail, crossed a dam, and made it back to Nate's car at 5:30pm.

The "trail". (photo: N. Rubio)

Kale climbing. (photo: N. Rubio)

The view of Ohulehule from the false peak. (photo: N. Rubio)

Moanalua Saddle to Red Hill Ridge - April 3, 2011

2011-04-07T15:03:00.000-07:00

A few days ago Brian Bautista, Ryan Chang, Daniel Napoleon and I did an exhausting loop in the Moanalua Valley area. It totaled about 11 miles and took us 8 hours. The route went like this:

1) Start on Kamananui Valley Road.
2) Take the Kulana'ahane (Kamananui Stream) trail junction.
3) Turn left on the summit saddle.
4) Follow Ko'olau Summit Trail to Red Hill Ridge terminus.
4) Turn left down Red Hill Ridge.
5) Turn left down Godek-Jaskulski trail.
6) Turn right on Kamananui Valley Road.

Kamananui Valley Road is an old dirt road, complete with bridges, that heads all the way to the back of Moanalua Valley. We passed a bunch of people along the way: a boy scout group and a group of guys, one of them barefoot, doing Moanalua Middle Ridge to Haiku Staris. A little under an hour of walking on the road and we then took a left on the marked Kulana'ahane trail. The Kulana'ahane trail is a stream trail that crosses Kamananui Stream about 30 times until the last portion where hikers must ascend a semi-steep ridge to gain a saddle along the Ko'olau summit to reach a lookout. From the lookout is a nice view overlooking Haiku Valley and the H-3 freeway. Hikers usually turn around and head back the way they came in. Few opt to hike either side of the saddle.

From the saddle we turned left along the Ko'olau summit. The trail immediately gets narrow and dangerous. Precipitous drops into Haiku Valley on the right had us inching our way slowly and even crawling at times. A couple dips and hills and we finally encountered a section with no trail. From our vantage point we could see the short, yet steep climb to a higher point along the Ko'olau summit ridge. Brian and I grabbed our machetes and started whacking away. Reached a rock face with a tree on top of it. Used all our upper body strength to get past that part. Then commenced the bushwhacking. The grade seemed to steepen to our left, so we opted to edge to the right. It was a lot easier. Climbed up some grass and finally reached a level spot with awesome views into Moanalua Valley.

Up ahead I could see a group of four men descending above us. I yelled out at them and they responded with a yelp and shakas. Eventually we met up with the group at a steep eroded section that they just had roped off, which was perfect timing for them and us; they would drop down with the rope, and we'd climb up with their rope and detach the rope for them. Brian and I agreed that the rope wasn't necessary, but using it helped us climb the section faster and safer. The group we ran into had ascended Aiea Ridge the day before and camped out at the powerlines near the Ko'olau summit overnight. They had planned to reach the top out point of the Haiku Stairs, a pretty ambitious mission considering where they started from and that the climb out of Moanalua Valley's saddle to Haiku Stairs is downright mental. But we wished them luck, and told them they could bail out the way we came up on the Kamananui Stream trail. We untied their rope, and parted ways.

Above us the climb was more exposed. We edged to the left of a large washout, and began climbing steeply over loose dirt, crumbly rock, and low grass. Beneficial was the fact that the guys we ran into left a pretty good swath to follow on our way up. We scrambled our way to the top, holding and pulling onto grass to progress further. The grade of steepness eased and at a little past 12pm, we met up with the trail that followed the relatively level Ko'olau summit trail to our destination, Red Hill Ridge.

Again, the guys we ran into left behind a nice trail to follow, making our progress easier, however, it was still badly overgrown with lots of thimbleberry plants and uluhe. Reached a spot with a rope contouring to the leeward side of the ridge. The dirt was soft and very loose there. Shortly after we found ourselves at the terminus of Red Hill Ridge at about 1pm. Ate our lunches, hydrated, and began the trail down Red Hill.

Descending Red Hill Ridge was just as I remembered it: hot, lacking wind, and overgrown. The wind on the upper portion of Red Hill Ridge is often blocked off, making for sweaty hiking in the noontime heat. The views are spectacular, though: to the right is the H-3 freeway, and in the distance we could even see the Waianae Range. Two hours down Red Hill Ridge, and we finally reached the Godek-Jaskulski junction to head back down into Moanalua Valley.

The Godek-Jaskulski trail was in damn good shape because of the recent clearing three weeks ago by the HTMC. Great job on their part: it was easy going all the way down to the stream. By 4pm we were back at the road. Took the leisurely stroll on the road and reached our cars at 5pm. At our cars we saw the guys we ran into at their rope section. They told us they went up a ways toward Haiku Stairs along the other side of the saddle but decided to turn around. They thanked us, we thanked them, and then headed home.

Around the 5 mile mark, looking back at Moanalua Valley. (photo: B. Bautista)

Short, minor ascent to the summit saddle. (photo: B. Bautista)

View of the H-3 freeway from the summit saddle, the endpoint of the Kulana'ahane trail.

Looking north toward the route we would take (red dots) to intersect the terminus of Red Hill Ridge. (photo: B. Bautista)

The trail becomes narrow immediately and forced us to edge along the ridge with large drops to our right. (photo: D. Napoleon)

photo: R. Chang

Some scrambling was involved to climb out of the saddle. (photo: R. Chang)

The view looking southwest along the Ko'olau Summit Trail. (photo: D. Napoleon)

The view coming down Red Hill Ridge, with the H-3 freeway at the right side of the photo and the Waianae Mountain Range in the distance. (photo: D. Napoleon)

Ohikilolo Middle-Kea'au - March 6, 2011

2011-03-13T11:24:00.000-07:00

My skin is burnt to a glossy burgundy color from hiking up Ohikilolo Middle Ridge yesterday. A hat would've done me some good, but the blazing sun on the west side does its damage regardless of sun protection. Nonetheless, tolerating the blazing sun and merciless climbs was well worth it once we reached the summit. The view overlooking Makaha Valley on Kea'au Ridge is one of the best I've seen on the island.

If you start the trail near the ocean like we did, the hike up Ohikilolo Middle to Kea'au is one of the few trails on the island that starts near sea level. Walking towards the mountains, Daniel Napoleon, Nate Rubio, and I followed a paved road that eventually turned into a dirt road. After an hour of road walking we reached a trail that led into a forest. The trail was very muddy and reeked of cow shit. We also noticed evidence of fresh cattle footprints. The apparent size of the footprints kept our pace uphill a bit faster than normal.

As we gained higher elevation, the ridge narrowed and we were now out of cow territory. The ridge, though, was now littered with goat shit. My brand new Merrell shoes were being "broken in," but I had no idea I'd be baptizing its soles walking over pebbles of goat poo.

Heading on, we passed a short dike section: nothing extremely dangerous because the ridge never narrowed to the point where we needed to crawl. It was around this section that we could see an
awesome view of the many near-vertical ridges to the west.

Past the dike we could see the last steep climb to the summit. Initially, the trail contours around and to the right at the base of a large, brittle rock face. As we contoured, we spotted bruised and fallen trees left in the wake by past rockfalls. The ground was also loose and unstable. Rope was installed on a few steep sections, with the last fifty feet being the steepest.

At around 12:30pm, we finally reached Kea'au Ridge at around 2,900 feet. The view is without a doubt one of the best I've seen on the island. Straight ahead is Mount Ka'ala and Makaha Valley. Looking to the southeast we could see the peaks of Kamaileunu, Kawiwi, and No Name. To the northwest we could see Pu'u Ohikilolo and the remainder of the ridge leading to Three Corners. Behind us was Ohikilolo Valley and the azure Pacific Ocean.

Our intent was to get to the top of the pyramidal peak of Pu'u Ohikilolo, but a fence situated directly on the ridge crest leading to the peak didn't look like much fun, so we took some pictures, ate lunch and headed down the way we came up. Three hours later from the summit we were back at the car. One hell of a workout, and one damn painful sunburn.

photo: D. Napoleon

Are you sure we're on Oahu?

Daniel and Nate along the dike.

photo: D. Napoleon

Seriously. Are we really on Oahu?

The amazing view at the summit.

Nate on a rope section, heading back down.

Panorama looking to the south.

Panorama of Makaha Valley. (photo: N. Rubio)

Hapapa Direct - February 27, 2011

2011-03-01T00:23:00.000-08:00

If you've hiked enough, you tend to examine mountain ridges from a distance and wonder if it's climbable or not. I usually do it behind the wheel, a bad habit I can't seem to shake. But the bad habit can sometimes be a ridge adventure in disguise. For quite some time now, one particular ridge has had me swerving and riding braille every time I've been on Kunia Road. It's a ridge that shoots straight to the top of Pu'u Hapapa, a 2,883 foot peak in the Waianae Mountain Range. Eyeballing the ridge from afar, straight on from the east, is a bit intimidating, but upon inspecting it from the north or south side, the ridge is definitely hikeable.

First off, access. The Pu'u Hapapa trailhead is on Schofield Barracks, an army base in Central Oahu. Come with up-to-date paperwork for your vehicle and some identification cards (license, passport, etc.) for everyone that is with you. You can, of course, get on base with no hassle if you know someone that is in the military. Once on base, follow the road mountainward to Kolekole Pass. You'll see another guard station. Just before the guard station is a dirt parking lot on the left. Park there. Straight ahead is the start of the trail to Hapapa. You'll know you're on the right path when you start ascending on wooden stairs. Pass a large boulder known as the "Sacrificial Rock." Then follow a dirt road all the way to a grassy meadow with an awesome over look of sheer cliffs and Lualualei Valley.

*Side note: I highly recommend getting on base during the weekend. Past experiences have proved that access to the trailhead on the weekdays are hampered by the military performing live fire exercises. WHEN THE LIVE FIRE EXERCISES ARE GOING ON, YOU CANNOT HIKE THE TRAILS NEAR KOLEKOLE PASS.

From the meadow, we moved away from Lualualei Valley, and beared left on a trail jutting into the forest. This is the beginning of the Honouliuli Contour Trail. It contours in and out of small gulches between the base and the summit of the mountain range.

There are two popular ascending routes to the top of Hapapa. I've done both. You can check those out here: 1st time to Hapapa and 2nd time to Hapapa. En route to Hapapa Direct, we passed the turnoffs to those ridges after about 15-20 minutes along the contour trail. After passing the second turnoff, we walked another 15 (+/-) minutes to get to a very inconspicuous turnoff on the right leading up the broad initial portion of Hapapa Direct. I marked the turnoff with one orange ribbon. Near the area of my orange ribbon there are a bunch of scattered white, shin high poles erected in the ground with pink ribbons tied to it. Don't know what those poles are for, but it serves as a good indicator for the start of the ridge.

Following the ridge up is where the "fun" began. We followed pig trails, lost pig trails, got tangled in vines, got pierced by trees with painful hooks, and got bit by mosquitoes. I marked our route up along several trees with my orange ribbon but ran out at a certain point. I also did some swooping with my machete but it didn't help much, so we just tolerated the onslaught for a good 10-15 minutes until the vegetation cleared and the ridge narrowed.

What surprised me once the vegetation cleared was an orange ribbon overhead affixed to a tree and a swath leading up the ridge. The ribbon seemed relatively new: no color fade, no dirt. More ribbons existed upridge, so we followed the ribbons until we hit a fifteen foot rock face. No rope, but the rock was climbable: tricky near the top because of the moss growth and slipperiness on top of the rock, but the rock was surprisingly firm and didn't break loose under our weight. Beyond this rock face the orange ribbons were no more, and the climbing started to get steeper. We also encountered more ribbons, only this time the ribbons were very old blue and white ones which were few and far between. Also, the swath became barely discernible.

We soon found ourselves contorting our bodies to get under vegetation, swinging on trees to progress further, and scrambling endlessly over grass and loose dirt as the ridge got even steeper. Several other rock faces had to be negotiated as well. A few sections even had webbing anchored securely to strong trees above us. The webbing was very weathered, but it held our weight perfectly on the worst spots.

As we neared the top, an obvious trail opened up thru the vegetation. I assume people who spot the Hapapa Direct junction at the summit take a top-down approach and turn around at a certain point when they don't like what they see. We topped out a couple minutes north of the Hapapa lunch spot, an exposed 10ft x 10ft dirt clearing with a wooden perimeter and an awesome view overlooking the the western, southern, central, and northern sides of Oahu. And the Ko'olau Mountain Range? Yeah, we could see that, too.

After a quick lunch we headed back down a steep spur ridge that eventually met up near the beginning of the Honouliuli Coutour Trail. Back in 2008 I had thought that this spur ridge was THE craziest ridge I've ever hiked. Three years and 82 hikes later, this trail really isn't that bad. There are two very large notches that look insane from the meadow, but it is very doable. Plus, in my opinion, the route down the spur ridge is one of the most beautiful descents on the island. The sheer cliffs along the backside of Hapapa leading vertically to Lualualei Valley are unlike anything I've seen on Oahu. It is a must-do ridge if you ever hike Hapapa.

Back at the meadow, we admired the views once more, took some photos, some video, and then headed back to our cars. Hiked about a total of four-and-half-hours (I think -- I can't remember the mileage either). We passed a lot of people along the way back to our car as well, even about a dozen children. I wonder if they did Hapapa Direct that day as well? :)

Orange route up. Yellow route down. The Honouliuli Trail is somewhere in there near the bottom of the first orange dot and leading off to the right.

Nate taking a breather on Hapapa Direct. (photo: A. Carcueva)

View along Hapapa Direct looking northwest.

Nate figured out how to use the panorama app on his phone. Here's the view looking northwest at the lunch spot atop Hapapa. (photo: N. Rubio)

Here's a wide panorama taken from the top of Hapapa. From the left to right: Pu'u Kanehoa, Pu'u Kaua, Palikea, Pu'u Heleakala, Lualualei Valley, Pu'u Ka'ilio, Waianae Valley, Kamaileunu, Pu'u Kumakali'i, Pu'u Kalena, and Mount Ka'ala. Click on the picture for a larger view.

Going back.

Nate on the spur ridge.

Nay-ten. Shaka on rocks. (photo: A. Carcueva)

Albert, negotiating the first notch, the smallest of the two notches.

If you look closely you can see Nate and Albert on the left side of the panorama. They are at the bottom of the 2nd notch. Click on the picture for a larger view.

Back at the meadow. (photo: A. Carcueva)

Kalo Falls - February 20, 2011

2011-02-24T11:11:00.000-08:00

Kalo Falls. There's not much information about this waterfall on the net, so I decided to go out on a limb and see it for myself. What Lei, Ryan, Kelven, and I found, after hiking four-and-a-half-miles in a gulch stream, was a lonely 80-foot waterfall with a nice little pool at its base. The name Kalo Falls is derived from a small taro patch that grows on an embankment near the waterfall. Total hike time: six-and-a-half hours. Total mileage: a little under nine miles. Check out the pictures and video below.

photo: L. Yamasaki

photo: R. Chang

When we reached this waterfall, we took off our bags and had to swim in the pool and climb the waterfall to advance further. From this point the taller waterfall is about 15 minutes away. (photo: R. Chang)

Kalo Falls. (photo: L. Yamasaki)

The taro patch growing near the waterfall. (photo: L. Yamasaki)

photo: R. Chang

On our way back. (photo: L. Yamasaki)

Back at our bags. (photo: L. Yamasaki)

Mount Olomana (1st Peak) - February 3, 2011

2011-02-07T23:31:00.000-08:00

Did a short hike this past Thursday. I haven't done a weekday hike in...um...forever. My cousin was visiting from the mainland, so I decided to take her on a trail that's somewhat challenging for a first timer but very rewarding at the top. Plus, I had to work in the afternoon, so the first peak ascent of Olomana seemed to be a perfect choice. Good workout. Perfect views. All under three hours.

Check out the links below for my past hikes along the Olomana trail, complete with detailed write-ups, pictures, videos, and directions to the trailhead:

Olomana - May 31st, 2008
Olomana - July 27th, 2009
Olomana - May 18th, 2010
Ahiki Backside (Mount Olomana) - October 24th, 2010

True Manamana - January 23, 2010

2011-01-30T20:54:00.000-08:00

I hiked at the slowest pace ever this past Sunday. I ass-scooted, bled, and crawled like a baby most of the way. And when I mean "slowest pace ever," I'm talking about hiking a total of six miles in eleven-and-half hours! Go figure. Anyway, slow pace or not, I finally did it. All the hype. All the intimidation. All of it is finally over. And now I get to write about it.

If you're a trail aficianado like myself, then I'm sure you've heard of the Pu'u Manamana trail on the northeastern side of Oahu. If not, do a quick Google search. That is NOT the trail we did this past Sunday. The trail we did goes beyond the end point of the Pu'u Manamana main trail known as Turnover (elev. 2,027 ft.). Beyond turnover a trail makes its way to an awesome lookout. From the lookout is the menacing and intimidating trail below. You can litterally draw the route along the narrow ridge with your eyeballs. And although the actual peak of Manamana looks only about a mile away from the lookout, it was only successfully summited by eleven people before us.

Over a decade ago, Manamana was attempted by some of the most seasoned hikers in the HTMC. The most notable pioneers were Chuck Godek, Al Miller, and Charlotte Yamane, all of whom were unsuccessful at reaching the summit. Al and Charlotte tried to reach the summit three times: once from Turnover and twice from a side ridge in Ka'a'awa Valley. To this day, Charlotte and Al's weathered white cables are meticulously placed along prominent sections along the ridge, all within less than one-third of a mile to the summit.

It wasn't until July 2010 that Pete Clines and Laredo Murray were the first to fully document a successful climb to the peak. A previous attempt by Pete in 2005 proved ill-fated because of time constraint. However, at the end of June 2010, Pete, along with August Smith, Chris Cheng, and Tricia Higa, cleared the heavily overgrown portion from Turnover to the lookout. This once overgrown stretch is now hikeable to the lookout in under half an hour, a big obstacle Pete had to endure without any clearing in 2005. With news of Pete and Laredo's successful climb, a handful of others followed and reached the summit as well.

The fourth group that reached the summit consisted of Nate Rubio, Kale Tulang, and Albert Carcueva. It took them a little over nine hours, and Nate even installed a very useful rope on the initial descent after the lookout that other hikers after him used to their advantage. As if cheating death once wasn't enough, Nate Rubio called me to join him on his second attempt to reach the summit.

Our trek to Pu'u Manamana took place on a weekend with beautiful forecasted weather: partly cloudy skies, brisk tradewinds, and little chance of rain. Tagging along for the hike was Ryan Chang and Lei Yamasaki. We started off in the dark on the Graveyard Trail on Trout Farm Road in Kahana Valley at exactly 6am. Graveyard is a steep trail that climbs straight up to Turnover. The climb was tiring, at times narrow, and very muddy near the top. After an hour and a half of ascending uphill we finally reached Turnover.

A short break followed: we ate some snacks, rehydrated, I changed into long pants. Then we headed further beyond Turnover to the lookout. Twenty minutes lapsed and we were at the lookout. The view at the lookout is awesome. Straight ahead and below was Pu'u Manamana. Behind Manamana was Ohulehule. Behind Ohulehule was the towering mountain range of the Ko'olau. To the left was Ka'a'awa Valley and the jagged summit ridge of Kanehoalani. To the right was the large expanse of Kahana Valley. Views don't get much better than that vantage point at the lookout.

Another break ensued: hydrated again and got a bite to eat. We also left some items at the lookout to lighten our packs. The inherent danger of the trail was obvious as we made our descent past the lookout. Steep and narrow: two deadly combinations. Butt-scooting was the only option, and the drops on both sides were massive. At this point the views were long forgotten. Precise foot, hand, and butt placement was all that mattered.

Near the bottom of the initial descent the ridge notches off. A fifteen foot rock face had to be negotiated with ropes installed by both Pete and Nate. During his first trek, Nate secured 100 feet of blue rope to a tree well above Pete's on top of the ridge. Pete tied his rope around a portion of rock at the top of the rock outcrop. Nate, Ryan, and I decided on descending the right side of the rock face with barely any prominent foot and hand holds. Much of our weight had to be stressed upon the ropes. Sketchy to say the least, but the ropes were brand new and in very good shape. Near the bottom are a couple of trees, one stronger than the other, that aided in the harrowing descent. Lei was last and opted to climb down the left side of the rock face. The left side has lesser hand and foot holds than the right side. When Lei successfully climbed down the rock face, we then were faced with a problem. With the ropes hanging on the left side, we noticed that the ropes were in an awkward position to climb back up on the way back. Plus, climbing up the left side would be more difficult than climbing up the right side. We agreed to continue the trek and solve the problem on the way back.

And then the less than half a mile per hour pace began on probably the narrowest and crumbliest ridge I've ever seen. I don't know how this "trail" will survive if it gets additional hiker traffic on a regular basis. There are certain sections along the ridge that will eventually erode and crumble, hampering further progress for future expeditions. In fact, portions of the ridge have trees growing directly on top of it, and the only way to progress further is to swing on the trees like a monkey on either side. Although strong now, the trees will eventually weaken if the ridge is trampled and pulled on numerously, allowing less than secure trees to depend on.

Safe sections actually do exist along the ridge; however, it is few and far between. Some other rope sections prove to be very helpful, especially at a section where Charlotte Yamane and Al Miller left behind cables that contour around a section of ridge that has a hole in it and another section that contours to the left around a rock overhang.

The last two climbs to the summit are no joke. Nate compared it to the likes of Piliwale but shorter. The trail steepens and follows the ridge over lose dirt and unstable vegetation. Rocks are dislodged, every step and pull is recalculated, and the ridge, of course, narrows to mind boggling proportions. Nate and I were the first to reach the summit, followed by Ryan and then Lei. It was 12pm, and Nate said we were making good time. A twenty to thirty minute lunch break would suffice until it was time to do everything in reverse.

Going back was a lot quicker for some reason. I volunteered to go up the initial rock outcrop to switch the ropes to the right side. That feat was especially adrenaline inducing because I climbed up with no rope. I don't know how my shoes held its grip on the smooth rock, but it did. And by 3pm we reached Turnover. Heading down Graveyard, the sun began to wane, and our legs began to feel fatigued. At 5:30pm we finally reached the car: eleven-and-half hours of hiking.

The hike to True Manamana is definitely one to prepare for. There are many things to consider as well. Here's a list:
1) Water. I ran out of my three liters on the way back coming down Graveyard.
2) Start very early. The trail takes all day. Once past the lookout, you don't sweat much because you are moving so slow. Bring a headlamp or flashlight. If you're hiking in the dark in the morning, you're making good time.
3) Physical and mental ability. The trail going up Graveyard is one hell of a workout. You ascend Graveyard, and when you reach Turnover, you're tired and ready to go back. If you're scared of heights and/or get vertigo, forget about it. This trail is not for you. If you don't like extremely narrow and exposed ridge sections, again, THIS TRAIL IS NOT FOR YOU.
4) Pack light. A very small lunch and snacks will suffice. This isn't an overnight backpacking excursion. A small pack that can store ample hydration will do fine and is highly recommended. One tip is to tolerate a heavy pack stored with water to the lookout. That way you can stash water at the lookout like we did. A bulky pack will use up more of your energy past the lookout because much of the trail involves flexibility and body contortion. Just remember, a big pack is a big mistake.
5) Bring long pants and a long sleeve shirt. This is pretty self-explanatory. If you like cuts on your legs, wear shorts. If you like cuts on your arms, wear a T-shirt.
6) Have a solid crew. It may sound a bit macho, but come with people that can "handle." Lots of upper body strength is required for this trail. You also don't want to bring twenty people on this hike. Like I said earlier, the ridge is very brittle. More people means more chances of the ridge falling apart. And with more people, the pace will be slower. I can't imagine what it would be like having more than four people.
7) Weather. Check the weather forecast. Even if you're not a meteorologist, watch the news. Listen to Guy Hagi (or not). But with all joking aside, take the weather forecast seriously. Doing this trail in the rain and/or during extremely high winds is suicide.
8) Bring rope. Obviously.

The list above is just a list. It's what we considered, and it's what made the hike RELATIVELY pleasant. It doesn't mean I'm encouraging you to do it. I actually discourage you from doing it. This definitely is one of Oahu's most dangerous trails. So with that said, take my warning seriously: True Manamana is no fucking joke.

Going up Graveyard. (photo: L. Yamasaki)

First glimpse of Manamana and Ohulehule from Graveyard. (photo: L. Yamasaki)

At the lookout. (photo: L. Yamasaki)

photo: L. Yamasaki

Nate leading the way.

photo: L. Yamasaki

Ryan and Lei carefully making their way along the ridge.

Narrow. (photo: N. Rubio)

photo: L. Yamasaki

Coming up to the hole in the ridge (top left of picture). (photo: L. Yamasaki)

Lei contouring around a rock overhang.

Nate throwing da shaka.

Last rope section. (photo: N. Rubio)

Penguins on the summit, on Ryan's underwear. (photo: L. Yamasaki)

Climbing back on our way to the lookout. (photo: L. Yamasaki)

Know your knots! Nate's clove hitch with the ultimate stopper for 100 feet of rope.

Nate Rubio's video below:

Manoa Middle to Wa'ahila - January 16, 2011

2011-01-20T12:51:00.000-08:00

This past Sunday was the first hike I ever did in Manoa Valley. It was a ridge hike known as Manoa Middle Ridge which was recently cleared by several people who wish to remain anonymous. It took them eleven separate days to bushwhack, and right now, the trail is so clear that it looks like a state trail.

Manoa Middle starts on the same trail leading to Waiakeakua Falls. I've never been to Waiakeakua, but I did bring along two people who had been to the falls before: Ryan Chang and Keahi Kaawa. Without them, Brian Bautista and I would not have found the start of Manoa Middle.

The ridge starts off after some rock steps at an inconspicuous spot on the left. The initial climb is very steep. Ropes are affixed to trees at the steepest parts. The trail eventually levels out and begins climbing gradually towards the Ko'olau summit. Fresh ribbons marked the route. Some ribbons were written on, indicating the trail clearing progress in days.

Before reaching the summit, we encountered a long, semi-steep section with a long rope installed near the foot of the hill. At 11am, we reached the Ko'olau summit between Konahuanui and Awa'awaloa (Mount Olympus). We sat and ate lunch in the clouds for a brief moment, but after a few minutes we were greeted with views of the windward side as the clouds tried to lift and dissipate. To our right we could see the narrow summit ridge toward Awa'awaloa. Our route for today would cross the narrow summit ridge and head down Wa'ahila Ridge to Kolowalu.

The summit ridge trail was in very good condition thanks to the clearing efforts of Duc Ong, an HTMC member that recently hiked from Konahuanui to Makapu'u. What looked to be like fresh rope was installed on a very narrow section hidden in an ironwood grove. Just after the ironwood grove was another narrow section that's been dubbed "Sedan Rock." The section consists of an exposed outcrop of boulders along the narrow ridge crest. Much of the rock is brittle, so we had to take extra caution traversing this particular section.

After passing Sedan Rock, the trail undulates along the summit ridge until finally reaching Wa'ahila Ridge. We headed down the Wa'ahila "freeway", reached the Kolowalu junction, and dropped back down into Manoa Valley.

Looking back towards Manoa Valley and Honolulu. (photo: B. Bautista)

The last section before reaching the Ko'olau summit. Notice the obvious swath. And if you click on the picture, you can see Brian and Ryan at the bottom left of the photo.

Pretty cool panorama at the summit taken with my camera phone.

Looking towards Awa'awaloa. (photo: B. Bautista)

Starting the trek along the Ko'olau summit ridge toward Awa'awaloa.

Keahi and I coming out from the ironwood grove. (photo: B. Bautista)

The ridge began to narrow as we approached Sedan Rock.

Sedan Rock.

Looking back towards Konahuanui.

Island Trails - Manoa Middle to Wa'ahila [GoPro POV] from Island Trails on Vimeo.

Kawiwi to No Name - January 2, 2011

2011-01-05T19:54:00.000-08:00

Happy new everyone. This is the first posting since November 2010. My short break off of the trails was a needed one. The surf was good, and it still is, but sooner or later I had to get back in the mountains. And I did just that this past weekend.

I finally completed the summit connector between Kawiwi and No Name peak this past Sunday with some of the best company that anyone could ask for. The roster is long, so bear with me: Nate Rubio, Ryan Chang, August Smith (the only person who knew the route), Lei Yamasaki, Mark Seto, Kale Tulang, Nate Yuen, Duc Ong, Brian Bautista, and Albert Carcueva. It was a perfect day to ring in the new year. It was also Albert's 32nd birthday. The weather was heaven-sent in the morning with overcast skies, then turning to clear skies and cool breezes in the afternoon. Definitely one of the more memorable hikes I've done. It also reigns as one of the best loop hikes I've done on the island so far.

Kawiwi (elev. 2,975 ft.) is the not so high peak beyond the top out point of the Kamaileunu trail. There are three routes to climb it, two of which are relatively saner than the third. The first route is done by either ascending the Waianae Kai trail, Kumaipo trail, Tiki Ridge, or Ironwood Ridge. The more direct route is Ironwood Ridge, which tops out along the narrow summit ridge between Kawiwi and No Name. Waianae Kai, Tiki, and Kumaipo top out at different points along the summit trail to the east of No Name. The second route veers left at an inconspicuous spot at a certain utility pole along the road. After crossing the stream, the broad, grassy base of the ridge is reached, and steep climbing begins. The third and most dangerous route is done by dropping down past the terminus of the Kamaileunu trail.

The route we took on this day was the route that turns left off of the road. It is definitely the best route out of the ones I just mentioned. It offers up a bit of a challenge as the trail gains elevation, involving plenty of scrambling, route finding, and bushwhacking. There is a swath, however, and old ribbons can be spotted occasionally. Much of the vertical rock faces are bypassed with obvious contour trails to the left or right; of course, it is possible to climb the rock faces instead of contouring.

After about two-and-a-half hours, we finally reached the top of Kawiwi. It is a great place to have lunch and enjoy the views of Makaha Valley, Waianae Valley, and the neighboring ridges and peaks in the distance. The area is broad and grassy, and it can easily accommodate a group of twenty people.

From Kawiwi we made our way east along the summit connector toward No Name. The summit connector is narrow, with massive drops on both sides. At the most dangerous spots, there are anchored straps for added security. Further down, the ridge drops very steeply with a fence sitting directly atop the crest. The fence, installed by the military, prevents goats and pigs from destroying native plants in the area. Although fences are usually a nuisance and eyesore to hikers, it was especially helpful when descending the steep drop.

With the fence section finally behind us, we reached a large boulder section. The boulders were surprisingly smooth even when dry, making it a bit tricky to navigate through. August had thought about installing a rope at a certain steep part at the very end of the boulder section, but it wasn't needed, and every one made it through without incident.

We then reached a breezy ironwood grove along the ridge. To the right we could see ribbons marking the route down Ironwood Ridge, which would be an apt bailout option for those not wanting to push on further to No Name.

It is relatively safer past the ironwoods than what we encountered throughout our jaunt along the summit ridge. The ridge broadens, and the vegetation begins to thicken. The climb to No Name is semi-steep, and it was apparent that this particular section gets its fair share of hiker traffic, for I noticed an obvious trail and ample spots to place our feet. At around 2pm, we finally topped out at No Name. Our way back would take us down Tiki Ridge, which would eventually lead us back to the road and to our cars.

At 4pm we made it back to the parking lot. Some food and drinks were waiting in a cooler in the back of Albert's car. Lei made some awesome salmon musubi's, and Albert brought some killer spinach dip with crackers. We tipped a few Four Loko's as well, chatting about the hike, past hikes, and future hikes, all while listening to some Hawaiian music over Brian's radio until the sun went down. It was a perfect cap off to an epic first hike for 2011. I'm looking forward to what else this year has in store.

As green as it gets in Waianae Valley. Peaks from left to right: Kamaileunu, Kawiwi, and No Name. (photo: L. Yamasaki)

photo: A. Carcueva

Nate and Kale, taking a short break while admiring the awesome view overlooking Waianae Valley.

Inherent danger still existed even when contouring around rock faces.

Albert. No rope. No fear.

Looking down at the summit ridge from the top of Kawiwi. (photo: B. Bautista)

Making our way toward No Name peak along the narrow summit ridge. (photo: A. Carcueva)

Nate Rubio, contouring around a rock face with a huge drop to his right into Waianae Valley.

Nate Yuen, standing in line, waiting for Lei to ease her way past a roped section with Makaha Valley in the background.

Duc, leading the way.

The steep, fenced section.

Albert and Lei negotiating another rope section.

The large boulder section just before the ironwood grove.

photo: A. Carcueva

Final climb to No Name.

The recent occurrence of heavy rains prompted a more than normal green landscape in both Waianae Valley and Lualualei Valley. (photo: B. Bautista)

photo: L. Yamasaki

Mount Ka'ala, the highest peak on Oahu.

Makaha Valley.

Island Trails - Kawiwi to No Name (GoPro POV) from Island Trails on Vimeo.

Island Trails' 2010 Video Summary

2010-11-23T15:16:00.000-08:00

It's been an interesting and memorable year. I totaled thirty-one hikes, eleven shy of the amount I did in 2009. Still, I covered a lot of ground, literally. I hiked a bunch of trails I never did before, and a bunch I will probably never do again. I met a lot of new people that are highly esteemed and recognized in the hiking community, and I also made some brand new friendships that I'm sure will be long-lasting.

The whole hiking community has been really active this year, and I've noticed that more and more people have been getting into hiking. In addition, a lot of dangerous and unused trails have been resurrected and completed. Notorious hiking trails such as True Manamana, Bear Claw, and Lanihuli East (just to name a few) have been completed, forcing some to attempt other trails that are downright suicidal. But what sticks out and is most surprising is how Piliwale Ridge, a very dangerous trail that was used rarely, is now used more than it ever was since it was pioneered. It is an amazing feat, how in the several decades since its inception, more people have done Piliwale Ridge in one year than in three decades. The proof is obvious: hiking is growing on Oahu.

Personally, my blog has been getting record-setting views compared to last year. With the addition of the amazing GoPro camera I purchased, I was able to capture some unreal video footage to share with everyone here on the blog. GoPro even approved my blog for advertising, which is why there are a few GoPro banners on the blog now. If you want to capture footage on the trail, I highly recommend purchasing it. It's worth every penny.

Finally, if you haven't noticed, I'm posting the video summary a month before the year ends. What about December you ask? Well, I'm taking a break from hiking until 2011. In the meantime, I'll be catching up with my first love: surfing. It's been long overdue. Still, I will be squeezing some hikes in between every now and then to keep my stamina in check. I now live in Wahiawa, and my backyard is the forest, so I'm gonna see what kind of trails I can find. I might even trailblaze one to the Ko'olau summit. Who knows. For now, enjoy this video I made. It's a collaboration of some of the best moments from 2010. Aloha.

Island Trails' 2010 Video Summary from Island Trails on Vimeo.