Mauna Loa Trail

Saturday May 25, 2019

You’ll have fun they said. It’s a life changing experience they said. That is how I found myself on the Big Island with Analyn, Cisco, Matt and Quan to hike up the world’s largest volcano. We endured the almost out of the door TSA line as it was a holiday weekend and then found ourselves waiting over an hour for our rental car. Payless. Wait more. Wait, it was actually pay more as well. Insult to injury. After finally picking up our car, we drove to the local stores to stock up on our supplies and had lunch at Restaurant Kenichi, the local spot for comfort food.

We stopped at the hairy hill parking lot as somebody had to empty their bladder, while our chip bag expanded due to the atmospheric forces equalizing the different pressures at roughly 4,000′ elevation. Photo by Matt Vidaurri

Driving on the narrow ribbon of asphalt that cut through the lava fields. Photo by Matt Vidaurri

We pulled our cars over at roughly 10,000′ to see how our bodies would react to the thin air. Photo by Matt Vidaurri.

Some of us tried to run or wobble down a straight line. Photos by Matt Vidaurri.

Others practiced their breathing techniques, two sniffs and one puff. Practice makes perfect. Photos by Matt Vidaurri.

We piled back into the cars after an abbreviated acclimatization and continued our rolling and winding drive down the road. Photo by Matt Vidaurri

Group photo left to right: Matt, myself, Larry, Cisco, Analyn and Quan; where we bumped into a HTMC group from Oahu that were coming down from the summit. Larry informed us that gas stoves burn slowly or not at all at higher altitudes, but he threw in a caveat that was with propane stoves back in the day. So we went back to our cars and tried with our butane stove and it flamed out while a waterfall was pouring in the background. So we had to rethink our food strategy as hot food was seemingly out the window. We left my car at the parking lot as that was our planned exit and drove down to the local KTA store to buy replacement food. Our dinner was planned at the Hawaiian Style Cafe but was thwarted due to long lines, so we settled for Tetsumen Ramen where I ordered the special chicken dish instead of the ramen.

We checked in late to the Kilauea Military Camp (KMC) at 4,000′ elevation and were upgraded to a four-room cabin. Rank has its privileges.

Reorganizing our packs as we discarded stoves and dehydrated meals and replaced them with tortilla wraps, spam slices, tuna, cooked rice and cold curry before turning in for the night. Matt was the only one to take butane fuel with him as he wanted to see for himself if it would work up in the mountains.

Sunday May 26, 2019

I did not add the audio to spare the sensibilities of anybody that may run across this post. Suffice to say, we were involuntarily treated to renditions of hits from the 80’s.

Shower sprinkles greeted our departure from the cabin and the short drive to the Backcountry office where Greg was kind enough to open the office earlier than business hours where we paid for our permits, which were $10 per person, that you can pay for a week in advance but have to pick up the permits in person the day before as seismic or weather conditions may deep six the hike. Gave our personal information and found out that only a few of us were bright enough to have bright colors. Got the skinny for our hike as to what to look for and what route to stay on. We found out that the supposed number of hikers staying at Red Hill Cabin had now increased from 10 to 15. Available bunks were 8. Maximum permitted were 24. Don’t understand the math. He said it was first come, first serve. So bring a tent as some of you may be sleeping outside. Good news was that both water tanks were full, based on a check several months ago.

Driving up the 11 mile road that cut through through old lava flows and dominant koa forests. It was built by prison labor back in 1951. Photo by Matt Vidaurri

Matt had been hoping against hope that the other hikers would not get up to the trailhead before us. Three parked trucks greeted us at the trailhead. Who brought the tent? Why isn’t Quan waving her flag?

Starting off at 6,600′ through mostly native forest on the trail built by Buffalo soldiers from the 25th Infantry Division back in 1915.

Passing through the gated fence meant to keep out hoofed animals.

We gained 400′ in elevation with no noticeable side effects, some of our group had started taking Diamox, physician prescribed medication, to prepare for the high altitude climb.

Enjoying the shade while we still could.

Analyn climbing up the rope ladder left by Pele. Photo by Matt Vidaurri.

Most of the ahu (cairn) stacked on the trail blended in with the background, some had white branches stuck in them for better visibility. Photo by Matt Vidaurri.

Matt poking around the crevice to make sure there were no critters in case we needed emergency shelter. Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. Photo by Analyn Baliscao.

Our first group photo on the trail, left to right: Matt, myself, Analyn, Quan and Cisco.

Standing under the last dead ‘ohi’a tree. Photo by Matt Vidaurri.

Will the real dead tree please stand up? Photo by Matt Vidaurri.

Hiking our way through the irregularly colored rocks and textured terrain, with only the ahu (rock cairns) to keep us on the trail as the massive dome of Mauna Loa lay ahead of us.

Let’s check out this lava tube and make Kenji wait ahead. That’s his fault for not stopping and smelling the sulfur. Photo by Matt Vidaurri.

The tube was dark and deep enough so that the end could not be reached. Besides, somebody was waiting.

The ahu (cairn) that Cisco made.

Glad everybody could make it for the group photo.

I spotted a group of hikers descending down from the summit. Upon exchanging pleasantries, they let me know that only a grandfather and his grandson were currently occupying the Red Hill Cabin. I got excited and yelled at the others to pick up the pace before those numbers changed again.

Quan trying to force more blood cells to her brain with Matt’s assistance.

Analyn coming up the trail.

Passing through another invasive control fence line. Still no signs of any hoofed animals.

Quan passing the Matt made waterfall.

Slowly moving rivers of molten lava frozen in time. Photo by Cisco Quintanilla.

Approaching the 8,500+ year old spatter cone that has since oxidized over time, resulting in the name of Pu’u ‘Ula’Ula or Red Hill.

Passing through a patch of bluegrass sprouting from the lava fields, the poor mans silverswords.

The rock formation that threw everybody off as it looked like somebody was watching us as we came up the trail.

We arrived at our cabin for the night that was built back in 1996, that replaced the original 1915 one. Now to see if everybody had bunks for the night.

The reports were true, Connor and his grandfather were the only hikers in the cabin. There were two depressions bordered by low lying rock walls outside the cabin that displaced hikers could pitch their tents in.

Yes Virginia, butane stoves do work in high altitude cabins. Photo by Matt Vidaurri.

Guess who came to dinner? A plastic centipede. A girl’s best friend. We also played a game of bullshit. No shit. Photo by Cisco Quintanilla.

Analyn ready to be evacuated. Call the chopper.

The water tank that can be checked for depth and the valve gate that must be turned off and the spigot cleared lest the residual water freeze. That’s why it’s best to fill up ones water before turning in for the night. Photos by Matt Vidaurri.

Connor showing us how it’s done.

The old and new toilet. We’ll stick with the new. Photos by Matt Vidaurri.

After picking our bunks and settling in, we made the short climb to the top of Red Hill to catch the sunset. Bare feet, slippers and shoes and all.

Looking down at the cabin as the creeping clouds cast doubts on any sunset viewing and the temperature began dropping. Time to go back down the hill.

Connor’s reward for being pressed into service as a photographer. Photo by Matt Vidaurri.

Who can resist a fig newton for their birthday? Photo by Matt Vidaurri.

Video by Matt Vidaurri of our first day on Mauna Loa.

Monday Memorial Day May 27, 2019

Sunrise in the mountains. It’s too cold, send out the boy to take the pic. Photo by Connor Krauss.

Packing up and getting ready for our second day of hiking. Some of us left extra food and butane fuel in the cabin to lighten our loads going up.

Celebrating Memorial Day with the free flags that we had picked up at Ace Hardware the day before. We said our goodbyes to Connor and Mike who were planning to head back down the trail.

Matt and Quan left ahead of our group to get a head start.

Somebody still needed more time before they got left behind.

Group photo left to right: Cisco, myself and Analyn.

Leaving Red Hill behind us, some of us with ginger chews in our mouths as it helped to combat the effects of thin air. Another helpful hint from Larry.

Seeking shelter in all the wrong places.

The terrain was unforgiving and rewarding. Brutal and charming. Contradictions that are best experienced in person.

Looking towards Mauna Kea, which at 13,803′ is the highest point in the Hawaiian islands.

The red and black spatter cones from the 1800’s that dotted the landscape. Photo by Analyn Baliscao.

Perhaps Matt was offering himself as a human sacrifice? Photo by Quan Haberstroh.

Most folks start exhibiting signs of acute mountain sickness around this elevation. The only cure is to go back down. Pressing further would only invite serious complications. Luckily, everybody seemed to be weathering the high altitude, albeit in slow motion.

Heading towards the prehistoric smoke hole surrounded by 1984 lava flows. Photo by Matt Vidaurri.

Sunbeam dancing on the smoothly rippled and undulating obsidian surfaces. It pays to slather liberal amounts of sunscreen and lip balm due to the higher elevation and absence of cloud cover. Photo by Analyn Baliscao.

Contouring around one of the older spatter cones.

Instead of inkblots, what do you see in the lava rocks? Photo by Cisco Quintanilla.

Mauna Kea above the sea of clouds.

Passing by the cinder cone formed during the 1899 eruption and named after US Navy Admiral Thomas Dewey.

The marked difference between new and old lava. We stuck with the old.

Quan hiking next to the huge trench. Photo by Matt Vidaurri

Matt elevated and shaded in a patch of olivine crystals, common lime-green minerals that have separated from the basaltic rocks.

Rock hopping our way through the olivine patch. Photo by Matt Vidaurri.

Spatter cone that was formed in the 1855 eruption and has since run out of steam.

3,658 meters to the rest of the world.

Approaching the prehistoric Pohaku Hanalei spatter cone.

The volcano living up to its name as we dragged ourselves up the trail.

One of the taller and densely stacked ahus on the trail. Photo by Matt Vidaurri.

What happens when you sit on a’a (sharp) rocks and not pahoehoe (smooth) rocks. Photo by Analyn Baliscao.

Analyn crossing over a fissure in the fields.

Crunching on the carpet of clinkers as we neared the pit.

Only two more miles to go. What many say are the hardest and longest two miles of the hike. Made harder by the fact that some in our group started feeling the higher altitude.

Dropping into the steaming North Pit. Yes, this is an active volcano.

Smooth walking on the 1984 pahoehoe lava.

Skirting the cracked rim bordering the yawning pit that’s over two hundred feet deep.

Taking it slowly on our way to the top of the caldera wall. Photo by Analyn Baliscao.

A welcome sight for our tired eyes, sore feet and aching lungs. The cabin that was dwarfed by the largest ahu on the trail. Somebody had ample time on their hands.

Passing the old outhouse with a view from the South Rim.

There was mutual surprise to find two hikers from Washington occupying the cabin built in 1934. No worries, there were still 10 bunks left for the five of us. They had the only hot stove in the cabin. Some of us were drooling over the prospect of hot left overs. Others had to get up during the middle of the night to quench their parched mouths and empty their bladders. One thing we noticed was that the other hikers hung their camelbaks near their bunk, so they could just take a sip when needed without moving around too much.

Tuesday May 28, 2019

Catching the sunrise at 13,250′. Photo by Matt Vidaurri.

The overnight temperatures must have plummeted to freezing as evidenced by frost on the rocks and a chunk of ice that fell from the water catchment. Photo by Matt Vidaurri.

Packing up and deciding if the group was going to hike the summit trail. Some had already decided.

Group photo with the backdrop of the island of lurid burning, although it was more lurid smoking than burning.

Looking across the caldera to the North Rim where the true summit is located.

Ring side seat to the massive sunken pit that encompasses seven square miles and is over 600′ deep. Photo by Analyn Baliscao.

We said our goodbyes to the two Washington hikers that were enjoying their morning java and caldera views.

Starting our third day of hiking at high altitude.

Glimpsing Mauna Kea with her glinting observatories perched on the summit. Photo by Cisco Quintanilla.

Panoramic view of the crater.

The rest of the group climbing out of North Pit. Photo by Analyn Baliscao.

Making our way to the junction where we could go up to the summit or down to the observatory.

C’mon guys, it’s only 2.5 miles to the summit! Photo by Cisco Quintanilla.

Decisions. Decisions. Decisions. Cisco, Matt and Quan were still suffering from altitude sickness and the decision was made for them to continue down the trail. Analyn and myself seemed unaffected by the thin air and decided to press on to the summit after depositing our packs in the cave to lighten our load.

The summit looked so close and yet was so far away.

Analyn had to double back as she had forgotten her phone at Jagger’s Cave, which afforded me a half hour nap.

Only two more miles. We got this.

Passing the carcass of a dead bird. Perhaps fallen by acute mountain sickness.

We thought we had reached the summit, but it was actually the remains of the original Mauna Loa Observatory. Looking ahead we still saw the ahus dotting the trail that continued to wrap around the rim.

Making the final push to the top.

The summit was not marked with a sign but simply another irregularly stacked ahu sprinkled with trinkets and mementos left by others that had preceded us to the top. We must have missed the logbook. Darn.

The caldera was even more majestic and massive from our lofty perch. Analyn noticed the Mauna Loa Cabin across the crater.

Group photo at the 13,678′ summit. Breath taking. Literally.

Time waits for no one, except another photo shoot.

Going down as the clouds starting to roll in over the landscape. Whiteout and darkness are two conditions you don’t want to encounter on the trail as it will increase ones chances of getting lost up here.

Random trail meetings with Robert, a hiker from England.

Drizzling rain followed the clouds.

Another random trail meeting with Rob and Megan and their trailing friend.

Hiking over the fractured lava landscape that was riddled with tubes, fissures, trenches and coated with jagged a’a rocks and spots of smooth pahoehoe lava.

Back at the junction.

The drizzling rain had increased the steam output from the caldera.

We recovered our intact packs and took a short break before our final trek down the volcano.

Looking out towards the lime-green pumice sprinkled among the a’a rocks.

Descending past the junction.

When you got to go, you got to go. Luckily, we didn’t need to go.

Most of the group had decided to use hiking sticks that afforded better balance when hiking on the uneven terrain.

Coming down on the old lava trail. Photo by Analyn Baliscao.

Hiking through the cloud soaked landscaped which muted the cairns and cones.

Leaving the trail temporarily as it intersected with the jeep trail.

Walking down the road, hoping that a truck would come along and give us a ride to the bottom. No such luck.

Getting back on the trail. If we had missed the shortcut, the road would still have deposited us at the bottom. It just would have been a longer day.

We noticed yellow splashes of paint on the rocks as we made our way down, probably to help locate the trail during times of low visibility.

Passing a cavernous lava tube stacked with two large ahu. Last chance for shelter. Photo by Cisco Quintanilla.

The end of the six mile trail from the summit.

Trudging down the dusty road covered with small and rough a’a rocks as we passed the atmospheric baseline station.

Our journey up and down the world’s largest volcano had come to its conclusion. Glad to have done it with this great bunch of friends. We joined the rest of the them who were waiting for us in our staged car at 11,055′ elevation.

The three day hike covered 29.7 miles through heaven and hell. Our hunger for protein was denied by a long wait at Hilo Bay Café, so we drove to Jackie Rey’s for that open table. We should have waited. Walking back to our cars, the ladies were serenaded by the male coqui frogs chirping their high pitched mating and marking calls. We later checked in to KMC where Matt had booked a cabin with a jacuzzi to massage our tired muscles. I think everybody was too tired to use it and turned in for the night after a nice hot shower.

Note: I have been made aware that some hikers have been using my blog as a hiking guide and getting lost on the trails. Please note that this blog was made to document the hike for the crew(s) that did it. That is why some of my comments will seem to have no relevance or meaning to anybody outside of the crew(s) that hiked that trail. My blog was never meant as a hiking guide, so please do not treat it as such. If you find inspiration and entertainment from these hikes, that is more than enough. If you plan on replicating these hikes, do so in the knowledge that you should do your own research accordingly as trail conditions, access, legalities and so forth are constantly in flux. What was current today is most likely yesterdays news. Please be prepared to accept any risks and responsibilities on your own as you should know your own limitations, experience and abilities before you even set foot on a trail, as even the “simplest” or “easiest” of trails can present potential pitfalls for even the most “experienced” hikers.

Tagged as: dewey cone, jagger's cave, lua poholo, mauna kea, mauna loa, mauna loa cabin, mauna loa observatory, mauna loa summit, mokuaweoweo caldera, north pit, pit toilet, pukauahi, puu ula'ula, red hill cabin, steaming cone