Date: Mon, 7 Jan 2002 12:41:51 -1000 From: Patrick Rorie (prorie@k12.hi.us> Subject: [OHE-L:2680] Mauna Loa for New Years Many people on O'ahu look forward to celebrating the coming of the new year by shooting off fireworks, resulting in the formation of huge clouds of smoke, transforming their neighborhood streets into war zones. I, on the other hand, desire to escape such chaos and did so a little over a week ago by sojourning to the summit of the largest volcano in the world, Mauna Loa (ML). The trip almost did not come to fruition when Gene Robinson (family trip to the mainland) and Torrey Goodman (who opted instead to spend time with her boyfriend doing wimpy hikes on the Big Island) bailed and a miscommunication with Greg Kingsley led to his dropping out, but thanks to 54-year-old Brian Daniel (the dude who made that unusual video of the Ko'olau crest from his little plane), the get-away took place. == Friday, December, 28, 2001 At 3 PM from Waikele, Brian and I carpooled in his old truck to Honolulu International Airport. After dropping me off, he parked on Ualena Street, a 15 minute walk to the interisland terminal. Despite our flight being delayed about half an hour (pretty much a given after the events of September 11), the two of us caught an Aloha airlines jet to Hilo. Upon our arrival there, Brian's wife Barbara drove us to the Big Island village of Volcano where we ate dinner and slept at altitude (elev. 3,500 ft) inside her small but charming home nestled in a forest of tall 'ohi'a trees. == Saturday, December, 29, 2001 The three of us awoke to a gorgeous day, not a cloud in the sky, a nip in the air. Following a delicious breakfast, Barbara got us to the Hawaii Volcanoes National Park (HVNP) visitor center as soon as it opened; Brian obtained a backcountry permit. From HVNP, we motored up strip road to the ML trailhead (elev. 6,662 ft). Prior to commencing the opening leg to Red Hill cabin, Barbara spotted an 'i'iwi as it landed on a nearby koa branch and pointed it out to me. It was the first time I'd ever seen an 'i'iwi, a terrific way to begin the journey. At 8:52 AM Brain and I hit the trail, Brian's pack weighing only 20 to 25 pounds; mine, conversely, weighed between 40 and 45 lbs. Nevertheless, I felt good and did not stop for a break until reaching the lone 'ohi'a (above the 8,000 ft elevation marker). Brian set a more deliberate pace and a considerable gap formed between us as a result. En route to Red Hill, I enjoyed gazing at the curvature of the "long mountain" and met a handsome German with his attractive blond girlfriend traveling in the opposite direction. Farther ahead, I encountered two dudes from Austin, Texas, also bound for the trailhead and noticed Pu'u 'Ula'ula grow steadily bigger. I reached an unoccupied Red Hill cabin (aka "The Red Roof Inn", elev. 10,035 ft) at 1:18 PM, and, upon entering the rest house, dropped my pack and lay on one of the bunks to recuperate. A few minutes later, I sat up and began unpacking. Spent quality time on the porch gaining pleasure from the warmth of the afternoon sunshine, recorded an entry in the log book and waited patiently for Brian to arrive. Finally, at 4:30 PM, Mr. Daniel reached the hut, proclaimed the 7.5 mile hike one of the toughest events he'd undertaken in the past 20 years, and confessed that he would not see the summit on this trip. When the sun disappeared behind ML, the temperature plummeted but never dipped below 44 degrees fahrenheit according to my thermometer, which I had placed on the cabin porch. Once night fell, a bright, nearly full moon dominated the heavens, so the spectacular star gazing opportunity that Red Hill and the summit cabin usually afford didn't occur. After dinner (Mountain House chicken stew, caesar salad with crutons and ranch dressing, and an 8 oz can of Ensure for me) both of us ventured outside to enjoy the cool, moon lit region. At approximately 7:30 PM Brian retired for the evening on one of the bunks close to the dining table, and I entered slumberland myself at 9:15 PM in one of the corner bunks. == Sunday, December 30, 2001 I purposely arose between 5 and 6 AM to view my favorite constellation. Upon exiting the rest house, I strolled over to the wooden Pu'u 'Ula'ula sign and gazed to the south, and, sure enough, there it was - the Southern Cross clearly visible despite the nearly full moon which still hadn't set. I went back to sleep, but Brian arose later to witness a beautiful sunrise from atop the cone. We were blessed with another lovely day weatherwise, a completely clear blue sky with only puffy white cumulous clouds visible low on the horizon. At 7:05 AM I got out of bed for good, ate breakfast (peanut butter and honey sandwhich on wheat bread, balance bar, 12 oz Dr. Pepper) and packed for the tramp to the ML summit cabin. Prior to my departure from Red Hill at 8:26 AM, Brian set out ahead of me on a day hike to experience part of the trail. Near the first spatter cone beyond Pu'u 'Ula'ula, I found him stretched out on smooth lava admiring the fabulous view across the saddle of Mauna Kea, wide strips of lingering snow apparent below the observatories. After a brief conversation, including a request from Brian to take lots of photos, we parted company. Leaving Mr. Daniel and the spatter cone behind, I continued toward the summit at a steady pace. This being my 5th trip to Mauna Loa, the novalty had worn off, but I still delighted in the procession of colorful cones, starting with Pukauahi, where I began encountering strong gusts. By the time I reached Dewey Cone, 2 hours and change had passed since my departure from Red Hill. While adjacent to Steaming Cone, I exchanged greetings with Neil of New Haven, Connecticut on his way to Pu'u 'Ula'ula, and, farther ahead, I approached Pohaku Hanalei at 1 PM. Knowing that the toughest section of the trail lie ahead and Pohaku Hanalei being my favorite spatter cone of the group, I paused to snap photos and memorize the intricate details of this fascinating topographical feature. During my examination of the spatter cone, I recognized sheets of snow-covered ice along the steep slopes. Between Pohaku Hanalei and North Pit, I began traveling over tracts of snow-covered ice, which were beautiful to behold but their slick surface posed another hazard, esp. when burdened by a heavy backpack. At 2:25 PM I reached North Pit. Chilled and battered by the strong gusts and in need of a break, I sought refuge in Jaggar's Cave but discovered that it contained 3 feet of snow; therefore, I hunkered down behind the tall ahu near Jaggar's to eat a late lunch (another peanut butter and honey sandwhich on wheat bread), hydrate, don my green heavy duty Remington wind breaker, put on winter gloves and replace my Old Navy baseball cap with a dark blue balaclava (I was already wearing a grey wicker t-shirt, the red REI sweater John Hall had given me a few years ago, a faded red speedo bathing suit, duofold shorts, cotton sox and hiking boots). Rested and refueled, I pressed on for the summit cabin at 2:50 PM. Encountered more sheets of snow-covered ice as I crossed North Pit, and halted on several occasions to admire lovely snow drifts above Lua Poholo. The final 2.1 miles to the cabin are usually a grinder, but the sight of snow-covered lava all around provided a welcome distraction from the wind and fatigue. At 4:12 PM I entered an unoccupied ML summit cabin (elev. 13,250 ft), dropped my pack and sat in one of the chairs for a breather. Having some time to spare before night fall and some unexpected energy, I left the warm protective confines of the hut and strolled over to the water hole ahu, approx. .3 mile to the south of the cabin. From the water hole, I continued south a short distance until reaching the top of a landslide, which is an access point to the Moku'aweoweo Caldera. I desired to walk the floor of the crater, but the steep landslide was covered with snow (it looked like a playground slide) and without crampons and an ice ax to negotiate the snow packed slope, I concluded that it would be unwise to attempt such a risky endeavor. My plans of a hike on the caldera floor nixed, I returned to the summit cabin, but before entering the structure, I paid a visit to the summit outhouse. When I removed the lid to the toilet, I found the deep pit filled with snow, human excrement piled on top only a few feet below the lid! Undaunted, I used the facility to create a type of yellow shave ice next to the feces/used toilet paper. :-) After exiting the toilet, I enjoyed the awesome vista of Moku'aweoweo (intermittent sheets of snow-covered ice evident on the crater floor), including the 1940 and 1949 cones as well as the entrance to South Pit, from the rim at a protected spot until the sun disappeared below the far wall. Once night fell, so did the temperture (36 degrees fahrenheit inside the cabin made even colder by a howling wind outside), and the full moon rose slowly above the horizon in the northeast. Although the moon dominated the heavens as it had done the previous evening, its light beautifully illuminated the sheets of snow-covered ice near the cabin and on the floor of the summit caldera. I consumed dinner (Mountain House teriyaki chicken, caesar salad with crutons and ranch dressing, a large red gala apple, and an 8 oz can of Ensure), recorded an entry in my personal journal, and then ventured out to the rim for another look into vast Moku'aweoweo Crater. Upon returning to the interior of the cabin, I walked back and forth periodically from each window to keep warm and to memorize the manner in which the moonlight lit up the surrounding environs. At 10:15 PM I entered the synthetic cocoon of Gene Robinson's -20 degrees fahrenheit REI sleeping bag (mahalos to Gene for letting me borrow it), where I stayed nice and toasty throughout the night and early morning hours while slipping in and out of consciousness. == Monday, December 31, 2001 At 6 AM I went out to use the toilet, but before reaching it, I paused to gaze at Scorpius and the Southern Cross, as well as the impressive reddish orange hue low on the horizon that preceded the sunrise (the last sunrise of 2001). When I reentered the cabin, I returned to the warmth and comfort of Gene's sleeping bag but arose for good at 7:21 AM (the temperature inside the cabin read 32 degrees fahrenheit). Prior to departing the summit cabin, I ate breakfast (peanut butter and honey sandwhich on wheat bread, balance bar, 12 oz Dr. Pepper), packed, recorded an entry in the summit log book, swept the bunk room floor, and lingered at the caldera rim for one final gawk of Moku'aweoweo and its steep rugged rocky walls. Having dilly dallied long enough, I bid the summit cabin farewell and commenced the return leg to Red Hill at 9:48 AM on yet another gorgeous but breezy day. En route to North Pit, I snapped photos of snow drifts and stared at the pretty patterns the wind had formed in the snow. Upon arriving at the tall ahu near Jaggar's cave, I dropped my pack and headed for the true summit (elev. 13,679 ft) via the Summit Trail. Along the way, I spotted Haleakala but clouds obscured Hualalai. The excursion required 5 miles and over 2 hours of hiking round trip, and I lingered at the true summit for only 10 minutes, but it afforded a spectacular view, and, in my opinion, a trip to Mauna Loa isn't complete without a stop at its highest point. Once I returned to the Jaggar's cave ahu, I stripped off some clothes, hydrated and then strapped on my backpack. After a last look at North Pit, Moku'aweoweo Crater, and the entrance to South Pit, I began descending the Mauna Loa Trail bound for Pu'u 'Ula'ula at 1:45 PM. Between North Pit and Pohaku Hanalei, I encountered 3 Japanese Nationals, who spoke very little english, on their way to the summit cabin. The only words one of them could utter were "What time is it?" The procession of spatter cones followed - Pohaku Hanalei, Steaming Cone (I love tramping on that stretch of olive-green pumice to the north of the cone), Dewey Cone, Pukauahi, and other unnamed cones. As I approached Red Hill, a fog engulfed the region and I could hear voices in the distance. This gave me an eerie feeling. Nonetheless, I completed the walk to Pu'u 'Ula'ula at 5:39 PM and met 4 friendly people on the porch of the Red Hill Cabin - 1 woman (Cheryl), 2 men and a teenage boy (later, I exchanged greetings with 2 other men inside the dwelling). 3 of the 5 males were from Alaska, including the boy. Cheryl informed me that Brian had gone back down the mountain with Neil and would pick me up at the trailhead at noon the next day. Upon entering the rest house, I claimed a vacant bunk and then proceeded to the pit toilet to change into dry clothes (the ones I removed were moist with sweat). When night fell, the fog lifted and I delighted in the wonderful star gazing opportunity available from 6:45 PM to 7:30 PM or until a bright, nearly full moon had risen to such a height as to dominate the heavens - Pleiades, Taurus the Bull, Orion's belt, Jupiter, Cassiopeia, the Great Square to name but a few of the constellations/planets. However, the layered effect was the most impressive aspect of the star gazing activity - faint stars barely visible to the naked eye, brighter stars more easily seen and the major constellations. After dinner (Mountain House Chicken Polynesian, caesar salad with crutons and ranch dressing, an 8 oz can of Ensure), I climbed to the top of the cone, where I endured windy, frigid conditions and recognized a forest fire on the slopes of Mauna Kea. The last human to retire for the evening, I entered sleepland at 9:30 PM on a corner bunk. == Tuesday, January 1, 2002 Once again, I intentionally stepped outside at 5 AM to view the Southern Cross. I also noticed the Big Dipper, the North Star, Hokule'a, and Spica. Because I went back to sleep, however, I missed another beautiful sunrise. At 7 AM I arose to a plethora of activity - coffee added to boiling water, breakfast preparation, and a few of the men already packing for the return to civilization. Later, while applying sunscreen to my face, I overheard one of the Alaskan dudes tell a short story about a man who was eaten by a polar bear. Another shared his plans to backpack 250 miles of the Continental Divide sometime in 2002. By quarter til 9, all of us were about ready to hit the trail, and at 8:52 AM I bid farewell to the others and departed Pu'u 'Ula'ula slightly ahead of them. During the 7.5 mile leg to the trailhead, I paused on several occasions to look back at Red Hill as it became gradually smaller and to memorize the remarkable curvature of the "long mountain". Below the lone 'ohi'a, I enjoyed tramping amongst the native flora and hearing native birds (mainly apapane) singing, or observing the winged creatures soaring through the air. At 11:52 AM I reached the top of strip road and immediately entered the picnic shelter to drop my pack and relax/reflect on the trip just completed. 15 minutes subsequent to my arrival, Brian pulled up in his vehicle and then drove us to Barbara's home in Volcano where I showered. After a late lunch, the three of us prepared for our departure from the Big Island, and by 2:30 PM were motoring down Rte 11 bound for Hilo and a flight to Honolulu on Aloha airlines. Notes: A big mahalo to Brian Daniel for taking care of all the logistics on this trip, and to Brian's wife Barbara for her hospitality and delicious meals. Thanks again to Gene Robinson for the use of his fine REI sleeping bag. There is nothing worse than being cold at night while in bed, not being able to get warm, and, as a result, loosing much needed sleep. Refer to pages 25 through 40 in Stuart Ball's BACKPACKER GUIDE TO HAWAI'I for more info about the Mauna Loa trek. In the first photo section (top of page 7) is a picture of vivacious Carole Moon on the Mauna Loa Trail as she is approaching Pohaku Hanalei. Check out the updates to the trip at http://www.hgea.org/~lmasu/bmaunalo.html == Paka