Back in the saddle again. A heavy soaking the day before had actually aborted our saddle hike. However, after going all over the board with alternate hikes to do, we ended up doing the saddle anyway. The skies were clear, so despite the weather sometimes changing on a dime up in the mountains, we decided to take our chances. Photo by David Johnson.

Burmeister Overpass

We carpooled to the end of Kalihi Street to minimize our footprint, as ever since Naohia Falls has been shut down, the neighbors have been quick on the telephone draw. After quickly making our way up the side road, we crossed over the Burmeister Overpass and headed up to the spur ridge.

Bowman shortcut

The Bowman shortcut shaved three miles off the traditional trail, but we paid for it with buckets of sweat. Okay, maybe not buckets, but at least little teacups. The ridge was short and steep and the humidity level was high. No signs of surveyors today.

Bowman trail

Enjoying the easy part of the hike while it lasted, which was about three miles.

Little green men

I always wondered who leaves these plastic soldiers behind, as they are scattered on trails throughout the island.

Mr. Bowman

Thessa crossing over an eroded trail section, with the prominent knob that resembles a face (see the “eyes” and “nose”?), looking down at us.

Kalihi Saddle

The cloud deck started to get lower and darker over the saddle. Pretty please, don’t rain on our parade.

Needs a name

Climb this rock and get the right to name it, much like Griego Wall and Dorito Tower. Just kidding. It already has a name. That big piece of rock sticking out of the hillside.

Climbing the knob

Switchbacks made it easier to climb up the knob. No straight shot to the top.

Panoramic view of the Leeward side

Clouds started to roll through the saddle, which still left clear views of town. Photo by Jose Luis Delaki

Meadow

Jose and Thessa crossing a grassy meadow near the summit.

Bog

The top was home to a bog, similar to ones found at Ka’ala and other high spots on the mountains.

Pu’u Kahuauli

Cloudy summit at 2,740 feet. At least we could hear the cars on the highway down below us.

What’s over that peak?

After taking a short break at the summit, we made our way over this small peak that leads to the saddle.

No turning back

Group photo back to front: Jose, Thessa and myself.

Into the clouds

Hiking into the clouds.

Windward side

Jose contouring around the Windward side of the ridge.

There’s the saddle

As we dropped below the cloud deck, the saddle popped into view.

Slightly eroded

A taste of what was in store for us.

Stay high

Spikes definitely helped to grip the crumbly and eroded ground as we made our way down the saddle.

Say cheese

Now the fun begins. Photo by Thessa Bugay.

Shaky tree

Hmmm, what is this tree for?

Going down

Oh, to help us climb down the side of this crumbly ridge. The tree was shaking the whole time Jose was climbing down and it looks like it could pull out one day. Maybe we should bring it some Miracle-Gro. Photo by Thessa Bugay.

Clear

Thessa making her way down. We had to space ourselves apart, especially when down climbing the heavily eroded sections, as rocks and dirt would get dislodged. None of us were wearing hard hats.

Got room?

The winds were noticeably absent. That was a good thing. Usually I welcome the brisk trade winds to help cool off. Not today.

Checking out the views

The views, when the clouds cooperated, were just to die for. Sorry, poor choice of words.

Left or right?

Jose and Thessa went down the left side that had the vegetation. I decided to see if my spikes would hold me coming down the right, rocky side. They held.

Getting lower

The HECO building at the base of the saddle seemed so close from so far up. The summit of Lanihuli seemed so far away, capped in clouds.

Climbing down

Thessa climbing down a pile of rocks. Most of the rocks on the saddle looked fractured and split, ready to come off at the wrong time.

Getting cloudy

Never a dull day on the saddle.

Grassy spot

The angle makes this part of the ridge look ready to fall off one day.

Dirt triangle

Thessa climbing down from the “dirt triangle.” Fellow hiker, David Concepcion, named the obstacle when he last did the saddle.

Wide open area

Looks wide from this angle.

Clouds rolling in

And skinny from this angle. All about perspective.

Somewhat narrrow

Huge drops on the Windward side. Actually both sides.

Are we having fun yet?

Yes. Why else would we be hiking on a severely eroded ridge? Photo by Jose Luis Delaki

Mahalo for the ropes

Many thanks to the hikers that have left ropes on this trail and shared advice on this hike. The ropes and/or anchors that are here today, may be gone tomorrow. Trail conditions change frequently, especially on this saddle. Hikers that have done it, always seem to report that the saddle becomes more eroded with each visit.

Don’t let go

Thessa looking for a place to land her feet. Maybe we should have come down the right side. Oh well, we all need a little challenge every now and then.

Best seat in the house

Seats single file only.

Balancing act

No margin for error.

Narrow ridge

Most parts of the ridge had to either be “saddled”, crawled, scooted or skirted on the side with precious little purchase beneath our feet.

Another perspective

Looking back at the saddle.

Is this rock safe?

The answer is no. The rock wobbled when we pushed it.

Don’t pull on the webbing

We didn’t rely on the webbing going down as we didn’t want that rock landing on our heads. Talk about a bad hair day.

Crossing the ridge

Jose crossing a mini-saddle on the saddle. Well, that’s what it looked like to me.

Coming down the mountain

Thessa coming down the saddle, with the most difficult sections behind us.

Too early for trick or treat

Jose approaching the last obstacle, dubbed “Witch’s Hat” by hiker, Pete Clines.

Scooting

Thessa coming over one of the last “humps.”

Witch’s Hat

The base of the “hat” was somewhat steep and then leveled off to a “walkable” grade.

Leave the webbing behind

Thessa coming down the backside of the “hat.” Jose donated his webbing to the saddle. Gracias.

No climbing involved

Jose contouring around the Windward side.

I want to go back up

Not today.

All pau!

Just as we made it down to the power lines, the clouds released her rain. Perfect timing.

Goodbye Kalihi Saddle

Until we meet again. She was a lovely ride.

Hitchhiking to Kenny’s

Shout out to Chris and Brian for picking us up on the side of Likelike Highway. What’s for dinner? Prime Rib! Photo by Chris Hiona.

GPS Tracks

The 4 mile hike now ranks as my hardest hike to date. Many thanks to Jose and Thessa, who have done the saddle numerous times, for keeping me company on this trail. Would I do it again? Yup, but going up, as going down was a crazy albeit fun experience.

Rain kept me off the mountains. Again. Plan B. Despite assurances from a hunter at the Manana trailhead, that it only rains in the morning, we all piled into Jose’s car and drove to the West side looking for a dry trail to hike.

Westside Pavilion

We soon found ourselves roughly two miles deep on Lualualei Naval Road in Nanakuli, where we parked outside Westside Pavilion, a party venue. If one has the proper military clearances, the road goes all the way to Kolekole Pass and beyond. A somewhat suspicious caretaker swung by and quizzed us as to what we were doing and if we worked in the insurance or law enforcement fields. Hiking was our reply. His parting advice to us was “Lock your car as this is Waianae.” Sound advice anywhere.

Trailhead

The trailhead is across the street and easily gained by climbing up a concrete wall and squeezing in between a barbed wire fence.

Where is the trail?

We followed the faint foot trail in the dry grass and kiawe trees.

Heiau?

Going up the rocky slope, we skirted the remains of a rock wall. Perhaps it was once part of a heiau?

Scrambling

The trail going up the northern ridge is somewhat obvious, punctuated with faded ribbons that marks the path.

Two more humps

Going up the somewhat steep ridge provided a cardio wake up and several rock faces sprinkled along the way were easily climbed thanks to numerous handholds and footholds.

Can you see the rainbow?

Rain made a quick show in Lualualei Valley and a rainbow soon appeared over the coastline, washed out by the strong Waianae sun.

Maui!

Passing the second false peak, the triangular face of the adjacent ridge which bears a striking resemblance to a pyramid, popped into view. Heleakala means “where the sun is snared” as the Hawaiian demigod, Maui, caught the sun and slowed her down so that his mother’s bark cloth would have more time to dry.

One more hump to go

Thessa climbing towards the summit of Pu’u Heleakala.

Pink flowers

As we neared the summit, we left behind the dry shrub, which was replaced by greener vegetation and a profusion of these tiny pink flowers.

Lualualei Valley

Looking down into Lualualei Valley and the Navy’s VLF Antenna Farm that towers over the land at 1,503′.

Hawaiian Pyramid

Jose pointing to the ridge commonly called the “Hawaiian Pyramid” for obvious reasons. As one climbs higher, the perspective changes and it looks less like a pyramid and more of a ridge.

Pu’u Heleakala

Group photo at the 1,900′ summit left to right: Jose, Brian, Thessa and myself. I heard that a Buddha statue once marked the summit, Buddha was nowhere to be seen.

The trail to Palikea

Looking towards the 1,000′ drop to the saddle and the 1,200′ climb back up towards the pyramid ridge. The ridgeline continues to Palikea and Palehua if one so wishes. Today we had no such wish. Another hike for another day.

Going down

We decided to take the gradually sloped southern ridge, which splits Nanakuli and Lualualei Valleys, back down.

Baby mantis

Jose found this tiny critter, which was about the size of a grain of rice. Thank goodness for macro capability in cameras.

Raining in the ocean

Looking out towards the ocean, we saw several rainclouds. Recycling in action.

Looking back

The summit of Pu’u Heleakala is easily gained and easily lost. The hike seemed too easy to be true.

Henry Guevara, we meet again

Coming down the ridge, we ran across this base that had “Henry Guevara” tagged on it. Apparently, he had just died a week earlier as his ashes are hanging on a tree at the summit, perhaps this was his favorite trail. Luckily, Brian did not sit in the ashes, like the last time on Olomana. Inside joke.

Down to the pillbox

We started descending down from the ridge before the residential housing area and towards this white topped pillbox.

No vacancy

The pillbox was taken, in terms of occupancy, by homeless people as their camp was located nearby.

Trail out

Walking back towards the road with Puu o Hulu Kai and Uka in the background.

Following the tracks

Remnants of railroad tracks that once crisscrossed the island.

Emergency Access

The road to nowhere? Photo by Thessa Bugay.

Is the coast clear?

Thessa hamming it up. No palm trees were taken or harmed during the photographing of this event.

GPS Tracks

Our dry hike in Nanakuli was a short and sweet 3.9 miles, as compared to a wet and long muddy hike if we had stuck with the original plan on going from Manana to Waimalu.