Day Two

(As with other sections, I know that the quality of the images on this page is pitiful. You need to click on them to see them at a reasonable resolution)

Miles 1-4

I woke up to a faint glow revealing clear weather in the crater, which having lifted the veil of the previous day's mist properly expressed the grandeur of my surroundings. I sat at the head of the river of earth flowing into the wide expanse of the Kaupo Gap.





I could see clear to the summit now, and it was alive with fleeting spots of cars' headlights and premature camera flashes.



My faith in the resiliency of the human body had turned out to be well founded. All the previous day's soreness had melted away with a long night of warm sleep, and I felt refreshed and energetic despite the frost on the ground. My spirits were lifted farther because, though I wasn't sure when it was going to happen, I was going to have my Haleakala sunrise, even if from an unconventional viewpoint. Eventually, the first direct light hit the summit, after climbing over the very cliffs I was under.



The light crept across the crater, lighting it a fiery orange, and somehow managed to illuminate the bottom of the western wall of the Kaupo Gap before the top.



It took longer than I expected for the bright sunlight to traverse the crater floor towards Paliku, but once it did, the high cliffs caught fire and I was reminded again of "The House of the Sun."



Again slathered in an 85 spf sheen, I walked down the trail leading out of Paliku and was immediately reminded of the big day ahead.



I had over 8 miles to Kaupo Road, and over sixteen in total to Seven Pools. Various sources from web pages, to a ranger at park headquarters, to the horse equipped Hawai'ians from the previous day had spoke with reverence of the challenge of Kaupo. The words stuck out in my mind: "Relentless," "ball bearings." I afforded myself one final gawk at the crater soaked in full morning sun and turned left, bound for the Maui coast.



The first few miles of the Kaupo Trail offer steady change in landscape and scenery. As the descent quickens, the rocky shrubland "grows up" a bit and before long there are sections of tall grasses and large trees growing out of rainwater gulches. Not right away, but not after too long, your deep blue prize becomes distantly visible.



For much of the trip the trail hugs the tall eastern rim of the gap, properly framing the scale of the gash in this enormous mountain.



I went on carefully navigating the rocky trail, which switched back occasionally on steeper drops but also offered some flat landing areas to rest your quads. My pack was much lighter than the previous day, carrying only 2 liters of water and a bit less food, and it became a mental exercise to remind myself that the difficulty still lay in front of me. To be honest, the current exercise was pleasant and moderate. Rather than wearing myself out, I took my time, occasionally glancing back up the gap to see how far I had come.



My only time related goal was to get to the Kaupo Store while it was open to stock up on water and a few frosty beers for my hike along the coast. I had until 3:30 to cover 4 or 5 more miles but it was barely 9 am. Having plenty of time, I took pictures, stepped carefully, and rested frequently.





The shot of the walking path itself shows a section that's very fairly representative of Kaupo Trail within the national park. One thing to be wary of is that in some other sections with tall grass, some steps I took broke off invisible soil ledges underneath which could conceivably twist an ankle. I took a couple diggers which thankfully did no more than make me chuckle at myself. As I arrived at the gate where the trail crosses into a private ranch I was now below the bank of clouds that was rising up from the coast. I had lofty views of the mountain's gradual southern slope from under the cloudy ceiling.

Miles 5-8

The locals didn't look impressed with the view -- or with me.



The landscape opened up into the knobby green fluff of pasture, folding much more into my field of view. Continuing my descent I knew that realistically, I can't expect to ever have more striking ocean views.





The Big Island looked magnificent across the channel.



Once on ranch land, the trail follows a jeep "road." Starting out, the footing on the road was fine and the descent wasn't steep enough to warrant any concern. I kept repeating the word "relentless" in my mind, as in, "you'll see, the relentless part is right around the corner" but I was starting to cultivate a kernel of hope that it was all empty talk to discourage the unfit. After perhaps not even a mile, that childish hope was utterly dashed. The Gap, and the jeep road with it, accelerated down as if it wanted to be at sea level within a few thousand yards. Firm grass, dirt, and large rock footing simultaneously became unavoidable lakes of small rocks unable to hold fast in the loose dust of the vertical road. My already deliberate steps became almost obsessively calculated and tested. Walking with knees permanently flexed near 90 degrees drained energy from my quads, made worse by the constant effort to slow skidding footholds. The balance and sensitivity of my Vibrams was critical. I could tell when grip was fading and maintain control when it did. Thankfully, some easier sections of road were sprinkled in with the barely controlled scrambling, otherwise I would have been too exhausted and distracted to take any pictures.



Eventually the trail leaves the jeep road and the open pastureland, but there's not initially much leveling in the rate of descent. Here there are thickets, groves, some grazing fields, pigs, more cows, and even (or at least what look like) rams. Here I encountered another human for the first time since Paliku. Bravely, he was hiking the opposite direction, and in his own words, it was "kicking his ass." No doubt. Soon there was some relief from the constant drop and sensing the hard part was over, I stopped for a proper lunch. I was flat out lusty for Kaupo Store and its cold beer at this point. The only other human I'd see until Pilani Highway passed by here heading up the gap, but this one was more sensibly on horseback. I still had plenty of time to get there but I rushed a bit anyway, and when I got to a white ranch house seeming to sit as guardian of the gap above, I assumed correctly that I was nearly done with Kaupo Trail.



And there's the trailhead.



Note the laughably inconsistent (and completely incorrect) distance listed to Paliku. This sign must be a cruel false comfort to those who attempt to climb the gap.

Mile 9

I strolled lazily down the gentle slope of Kaupo road. I sucked the last bit of water from my Camelbak, noting how accurate my provisioning at Hosmer Grove had been. For almost the entire mile, I could practically taste the beer I was about to murder. I saw the intersection of Kaupo Road and Pilani Highway, which would take me towards Hana later. I turned right, and there's Kaupo Store.



It was, with positively no apology, closed. I flipped through candidates for appropriate emotional responses in my brain. Was it rage? Embarrassment at my not having planned for this possibility? Foolish hope that it will suddenly reopen after the shopkeepers' long lunch? Disbelief -- had my camera ceased to accurately tell time or confused the day of the week? Fear and dread of the coming seven mile hike without water and the potential accompanying death by dehydration? Dejection at my now incurable lack of beer? Not instantaneously, I decided against burning down the building or breaking in. There were plenty of rental cars going by, and all were not only witnesses, but also potential rides and possible sources of water. I walked towards Huialoha church where I thought there may be other travelers. An insufferable sign taunted me about the work still to be done.


There is an important lesson here in my experience with the Kaupo Store for Hawai'i travelers. Store hours, workdays, even reasonable expectations of service turn out to be much more subjective on the islands. Surf may be up, a cash strapped office may have mandatory furlough, a friend may have come by, or one of a million other possible distractions may have arisen. It's very awakening to meet so many people who go with the flow more than try to manipulate the flow. You may find yourself asking your own questions about what's really important.

Miles 10-16

My thinking turned out to have been reasonable. There were plenty of people, and very soon some nice folks eagerly helped me to half a liter of their water. I felt stupid now that I had packed all that water in Hosmer Grove just to run out anyway. I should have packed each day's water each morning, first at Hosmer, then filtering at Paliku. Regardless, it was time to move on. Huialoha church was a very picturesque. It just begged to be photographed.





I could tell right away that the road to Hana was going to be more challenging than I expected. It alternated scaling cliffs that jut out into the ocean to dropping heading inland to get to a bridge meeting up with the road up the next cliff.




When looking back, I could see why geologists theorize that an ancient landslide filled in Kaupo "canyon." Imagine the Tsunami that such a massive landslide must have sent to the Big Island (and probably quite a few other pacific islands).



I enjoyed hiking up the road quite a bit. There were black pebble beaches, sheer cliffs, and huge boulders resting in the surf.





I refused the offer of a ride along the way, and was graciously given more water by a bus driver who didn't even ask if I wanted it. I even got to drink a tender coconut and a smoothie at Laulima Farm's stand. The road straightened out here and leveled off, and I knew somehow that I was almost there. There were lots of fruiting mango trees along the road, and it felt less remote with gates for farms and some houses. It was pretty rural, but much less so than Kaupo. Soon I was there. I had made it to Seven Pools! The first order of business was to take a swim in the freshwater pools in the gulch to clean off. I was absolutely filthy and it felt great. Next I set myself up with a lovely little space to camp in away from the car camping area, for a little privacy on my last night in Maui. My spot was on top of some cliffs right on the water.



True to form, it rained off and on all night. The next morning I woke up and was already a little late to my appointment with the taxi up in the parking lot area. I threw my stuff together as the sun was rising, and as you can imagine given this photo of it, I had mixed feelings about my time on Maui coming to an end.