Maui - part 1 - hiking in Haleakala

It was snowing in Seattle a few weeks ago: some freak weather pattern left the city in an icy grip. I was freezing, cars were crashing, and no one could believe it was only November. And then Phil and I went away to Maui. The sunny, warm, tropical Hawaiian island at first had been a quick substitute for the Chile trip we lacked the time for. But with the snow and ice in Seattle, it dawned on me how wonderful it would be to get away to the sun, to the beach, and the mountains (yes, unlike normal people, we went backpacking on Maui.)

Our trip began with a lot of rain. After flying into Kahului airport, we picked up our rental car and tried to navigate to Peace of Maui in Hali'imaile (our lodging for the night) and ended up detouring around lakes of water that had formed in the streets due to heavy rains. Luckily, the puddles disappeared quickly, and we spent the night relaxing before our three day, two night camping trip in Haleakala National Park. Peace of Maui was comfortable and surprisingly pleasant for the cost ($60!), and the owner kindly allowed us to store our luggage at the house instead of leaving it in the car while we were hiking.

Sunday we drove up Crater Road and entered Haleakala National Park. Haleakala means "house of the sun" - legend has it that the demi-god Maui climbed to the 10'k summit of the dormant volcano, snared the sun with a lasso, and negotiated a longer day before releasing it. We checked in and convinced a really nice German couple to help us to the top, so that we could leave the car where we would exit the trail. The summit was chilly - luckily it wasn't raining, but it was completely overcast.

We began hiking along the Sliding Sands trail: from the Keonehe'ehe'e Trailhead we walked 9.2 miles to Paliku, our camp for the night. Because we were a little late starting out, we didn't stop much, and completed the hike in about 4 hours. It is almost completely downhill, which makes it easier, however the ground is sandy and gives your muscles a good workout. The hike begins "on the moon"... or at least it feels that way. As far as the eye can see, there is a base of grey-black sand; streaks of copper sand sometimes snake through the floor, metallic rocks catch the light, and occasionally a plant grows (from what I do not know.)

After about 3 miles, life gradually unfolds: plants appear together, hues of orange, rust, and green enter, and we see birds and a few bees. (It was about this time that we passed The Kapalaoa campground and stopped for a quick meal.) Towards Paliku, plants become more and more abundant, until we notice we're now walking through what feels best described as a prarie.

When the 9 miles were finally up, our calves were relieved. The cabin we've reserved through the National Park is situated just under a towering cliff. The cabin itself is convenient: our tent, a stove, and other misc gear stayed in Seattle; provided are both wood and gas stoves, bunk beds, "mattress" pads, an outhouse already equipped with toilet paper, and even soap. Paliku was a bit dirty, but the ease and comfort of staying in a cabin greatly outweighed any negatives.

We awoke early, made granola for breakfast, and packed and cleaned up. Nene were hovering just outside the door, but we were already aware not to feed the nene! Nene are endangered birds that sound a lot like calfs. I swear!

The next day, we had a 6.3 mile hike to Holua cabin. Unlike most of our hiking trips, our quad muscles weren't sore, but our calves were. This was Monday: it was sunny and warm (I finally felt like I was in Hawaii!) We backtracked the first mile, and then veered off onto the Halemau'u Trail. As we bore west, we gradually gained altitude (a few hundred feet) and lost the lush green flora. By halfway, the trail was beginning to resemble the rock and cinder of the crater once more. Check out the photo of Phil (to the left) and compare it with the photo of the trail about two hours later (below right.)

We continued hiking, past Kawilinau, a 65' deep fissure. Once known as the Bottomless Pit and believed to only end at the ocean, the park service has since measured the hole and now uses its original Hawaiian name. Unfortunately, the drop itself is fenced off.

Just afterwards is Pele's Paint Pot, where a mix of reds, oranges, and golds color the slope of a cinder cone.

Only a mile from Holua is the silversword loop. With almost no appreciable gain in distance, it's a no-brainer to take the loop. Silversword are beautiful plants with narrow, silvery leaves; now protected, they are endemic to Hawaii and appear throughout the park. They flower only once in their lifetimes and then die: we saw only a few actually in this state, but many post-flowering.

After completing the loop, we easily trekked the rest of the way to the cabin at Holua. About a dozen German tourists were lunching there, the most people we had seen in the park so far. (We barely saw anyone else unless we were very close to a trailhead.)

Holua cabin was similarly equipped as Paliku, but much cleaner. We arrived about 1pm, allowing a lot of time to unpack, relax, and play cards before the sun went down. It also allowed the Nene a lot of time to (unsuccessfully) beg for food from us. That night, there was a bright, full moon that we could see from the bunks.

Tuesday morning, we woke up just before sunrise, and watched the sky change while drinking hot cocoa (warm inside the cabin.) Although it was cold, as soon as the sun hit, everything (including us - yay) heated up. We cleaned up, packed up, and headed out. This was our final day: we had a 3.7 mile hike to the Halemau'u trailhead, mostly uphill, but not too bad.

We started out flat, but about a mile from the cabin the trail passes through a ranch gate and begins to climb. A series of switchbacks works its way to the rim of the crater, a thousand feet above.

Although it was hot, it didn't take too long, and we finished with tired, but happy feet.