Some of my most memorable hikes have been on the neighbor islands of Hawaii. The toughest is on the Garden Isle of Kauai, and is on the secluded Kalalau trail. That trail stretches for 11 miles along the middle of these rugged mountains that go directly into the ocean. You start at a beach, go up about halfway into these mountains for a couple of miles, and end up at another beach.
For the next 9 miles you go along the ruggled Napali coast, hiking up and down these ridge lines, usually at the 2,000 foot level which is about halfway between the ocean and the mountain tops. I had to turn back twice in previous years, because of the muddy trail during the Winter storms, and because I had only two 2-quart canteens. This year I hiked in May, and got up at 5 AM for an 11 hour, 22-mile round trip. I had to cross three streams, and at times climb with hands as well as feet along the partially eroded trail covered by landslides. At one point the narrow trail went off the 2,000 foot cliff right into the ocean, and even if you survived the plunge you would never be able to climb up the slippery sheer cliff face. Dressed in my Hawaiian shirt with only sunscreen, three canteens, an umbrella, tennis shoes, and a lunch bag hooked onto my belt as equipment, I passed a real macho man carrying a 40 pound pack and wearing hiking boots and a poncho; his stunned look asked, "Where did this guy out for a Sunday stroll come from?"
After 11 miles I made it to the hidden Kalalau valley and beach, and looked back over the rugged mountains that I now had to hike back over. As I sat down for a half hour break to eat a sandwich, I noticed the gathering storm clouds and quickly started back for the final five-and-a-half hour hike. Suddenly, the rain came down, and my Wal-Mart umbrella went up. The first stream I reached was swollen from the rain higher up the mountain, and two campers were having great difficulty crossing the stream. I moved farther down the river to the top of a waterfall, and jumped from one boulder to the other, pulling myself up the other side. But the rain kept falling, and I started worrying about the two remaining streams. Since I had no camping gear, I would hate to be marooned on this trail.
The umbrella actually works pretty well, though when I have to go on all fours over an eroded part of the trail I have to fold it up and hold it in my mouth while I get rained on. Crossing the second stream isn't too hard, but after four hours or so I reach the third stream and notice hikers slipping over the boulders and into the water. For safety's sake, I go further downstream where the stream flows into the ocean. I then wade a short distance into the ocean and avoid the force of the flowing stream, and cross over to the other side of the stream. After 11 hours of a 22-mile hike, I have accomplished a hike that takes campers two or three days to accomplish. It pays to travel light! Most dangerous part of the hike--I am nearly run off the road by a speeder.