Tag: backpacking

Part 2 of Hiking the Halemau’u Trail to the Paliku Campsite

The following is a continuation of Hiking the Halemau’u Trail to the Paliku Campsite at Haleakala National Park.

One of the best parts of camping is sleeping when the sun sets and waking when it rises. We were awake a little after 5am with the pleasure of enormous slugs crawling on the tent’s screen. It rained extremely hard during the night, leaving us wondering if there would be a flash flood on the hillside where we were camped. Fortunately, by the light of day the rain slowed down to a drizzle.

We made our breakfast and debated the best way to pack up our soaked tent. We finally decided that the best approach wasn’t to wait for the rain to stop, but to move as quickly as possible once we emerged. We packed the backpacks first so that the tent breakdown was as simple as dropping the poles, pulling the stakes and rolling up the rest.

Rainbows

We were essentially dry as we left the campsite but our pants were quickly soaked as we walked through light rain and wet vegetation. It was warm enough for us to be comfortable and we were delighted with rainbows over our trail as we hiked back toward the Haleakala Crater.

Even though we’d walked this route, by morning and in a different light, it was like a new adventure. We stopped for an early lunch at the first lava flow just as we left the rain behind, and were soon hiking once again through the lunar landscape of the Haleakala Crater. Our trip on day two was significantly more uphill and we could feel it.

Once across the Crater, we once again entered the rainy area that gradually became more green and less desolate. The final nearly 7 km (4.2 miles) was entirely uphill but a great way to finish such an amazing hike. The Halemau’u Trail is an excellent adventure for those who come prepared for the many climates of this unique landscape.

Hiking the Halemauu Trail to the Paliku Campsite at Haleakala National Park

The Halemauu Trail to the Paliku Wilderness Campsite is not a two-day hike for the casual hiker. Fortunately, we’re no casual hikers and were well-prepared for the altitude, wet, cold and 32.8 km (20.4 miles) round trip. We paid our $10 to enter the park for three days, and made our way to the Haleakala National Park Visitors Center to get our free permits and to watch the mandatory video, “Leave No Trace.”  We were skeptical about having to learn again about the philosophy we already practice, but it turned out to be a very good video that every national park should have.

Halemauu Trail

The Halemau’u Trail starts at 2435 m (7,990 ft) on the main road through the park. By the time we grabbed our gear and left our car at the parking lot, we were enveloped in a mist that brought the kind of rain that only happens as clouds try to push over 3,055 m (10,023 ft) Haleakala shield volcano. It is so large that it takes up 75% of the land area of Maui and dictates the weather for most of the island.

The trail leaves the parking lot as a fairly straight path that passes through scrub before beginning a significant descent of the West Crater Wall to the Ko’olau Gap at the floor of the Haleakala Crater. The trail in places is cut from sheer lava rock cliffs and represents an enormous amount of effort on the part of the National Park Service. Each turn that faced toward the sea brought rainy mist, and each turn away brought relief from the wet.

The descent section lasted nearly three miles and left us ready to hike on more level ground. We’ve always found going down to be tougher on our bodies and more risky than climbing even steep trails. Add wet rocks and loose gravel and you have a recipe for injury.

Lunch

Once off the cliff trail, we found an excellent place to have lunch just inside a gate that was constructed to keep feral goats out of the park and away from the silversword, a plant unique to Haleakala National Park. We made ramen noodles and brewed up tea as we rested our legs and enjoyed taking off our packs for a bit.

Soon after eating, we started once again down the trail and soon entered an area of lava flows that had remarkable formations that made the landscape appear apocalyptic. There were patches of pahoehoe (smooth, sometimes ropey-looking lava) and a’a, the jagged lava that is nearly impossible to walk across, leading to jokes that a’a is the sound you make when you try. At one point, we found lava chutes that still bore the evidence of lava flowing from underground even centuries after the last eruption.

Soon after the lava flow section, we entered an area that could best be called desert. We were fortunate that it rained recently and the footing was better than usual. Still, we felt our energy slipping away on the soft trail. This section didn’t last very long and we were soon back on hardpack trail.

Lunar

The landscape of the center section of our hike could best be described as lunar. We made our way around several cinder cones that looked like they could have erupted just recently, though we knew that not to be true. Lacking water in the rain shadow of the Crater’s walls, erosion takes place very slowly without vegetation to help break down the rock. In fact, one of the only plants is the silversword, unique to this location and possibly one of the hardiest plants on the planet.

Leaving the Crater floor meant a return of vegetation, but also of rain. We also reentered an enormous lava flow that managed to wind its way through man-made and natural pathways. The mist became closer as we descended and soon we were again enveloped in the light rain of a cloud.

Two hours after finding ourselves back in rain, we arrived at Paliku Campsite.

Paliku Campsite

At 6,380 feet (1,945m), Paliku is located on the east end of a beautiful valley at the base of a rain forest cliff.  We were very happy to arrive and quickly looked for a campsite. Unfortunately, just as we began to unpack, the rain started coming down very hard and the inside of our mostly-screen tent was soaked before we could cover it with the rainfly. Jeanne spent the next several minutes drying the tent floor as best she could, but the damage was done and we would have a wet tent for the the night. We spent the next two hours eating salami, our dried mangos and sunflower seeds. Darkness arrived at 7pm, and we were fast asleep minutes later.

Up next: Part 2 of Hiking the Halemau’u Trail to the Paliku Campsite at Haleakala National Park

When adventure isn’t your job

We know people who are paid to have an adventurous life, and we’ve interviewed a few like Eric Weihenmayer, Melissa Arnot, and Lee Farmer.  But what about the rest of us…those who have jobs and responsibilities that make it tougher to take the time and cover the expense of all of the things we’d love to do? We manage to have a great deal of adventure and are often asked, “when do you work?” and, “how do you afford it?” Here’s our advice for how to make it happen no matter what your circumstances:

Be ready to go

If it takes a great deal of effort to go, then you’ll make excuses not to. Every time we return from an adventure, we clean and dry our gear, fix anything that is broken, and have everything on shelves and in duffels in our garage so that we can find it quickly. We also have a master checklist broken down into sections that helps us quickly make sure we’re ready to go to the beach, climbing, or camping. The things we use most often, like our shoes, flash packs, headlamps and doggie water bowls are kept in the house where we can grab and go.

We find invariably that if don’t use our checklist, we forget critical things. Likewise, using a checklist makes us feel comfortable that we can make a decision about a hike very quickly and not feel stressed that we’re not thinking it through. Also, we always have extra canisters of fuel for our stoves, dehydrated food, MRE’s, and fully charged batteries. This way, we can leave any time of the day or night without stopping at a store or even worrying that a store is open.

Lastly, we have resources on the web, maps and books that allow us to quickly do research and pick something without taking large amounts of time to get all the information necessary. For Southern California, we use websites like Dan’s Hiking Pages, Modern Hiker, and SoCal Hiker. Having a few websites like these makes deciding and being prepared both stress free and quick.

Make adventure part of everything

When we have trips for work, we find ways to squeeze adventure into the mix, like when we hiked the first part of the Appalachian Trail while in Atlanta for business, or visited the Kennedy Space Center when at a conference in Orlando.

If you have an hour, find an adventure that takes an hour. For us this means hitting a trail near our home, like the Eaton Canyon First Waterfall. If we have a day, we find an adventure that can be done in a single day, like climbing Mt Baldy.  Too many people put off adventure because they have an idea that fun takes days or weeks. We have constant adventure because we take what time we have. Also, having small but consistent adventures increases your fitness and keeps your mind always open to finding new experiences.

Have a partner

We’re fortunate that we’re married and both enjoy the same things. Having someone you can rely on to share adventures makes it easy and more fun. For some of our friends whose wives don’t do the same things, we are their partners for adventures. You’ll be much more likely to carry out a plan if there’s someone else involved. If you don’t know anyone, there are great websites like Meet Up that will help you find partners.

Keeping the cost down

Your adventure doesn’t need to cost a lot of money. If you’re a beginner, buy good gear gradually, starting with great shoes. Hiking is inexpensive and an easy way to get started on the ‘right foot’. When you decide to invest more, buy only once by reading gear reviews and consulting with experts at the best stores like REI. Quality gear that is well treated will last for a long time, as opposed to inexpensive goods that in the end won’t save you at all. Don’t be afraid to use the internet to find the best prices but be aware that shipping costs and difficult returns could make the online experience not so competitive in price and service.

More than anything, get out there. The more you go, the more you’ll go. That sounds silly but is the heart of having great adventures.

Mt Whitney by the Mountaineer’s Route, July 2011

Jeanne, our friend Craig and I made our second attempt on Mt Whitney’s (4421 m. 14,505 ft.) Mountaineer’s Route on June 13th and 14th, 2011.  The highest peak in the lower forty eight states, Mt. Whitney is typically accomplished as a very long hike of 22 miles from the Whitney Portal (2,250 m., 8,360 ft.) trailhead.  We’ve managed to complete the typical route twice…once as a two-day hike, camping at Consultation Lake, and once in a single day where we left at 4am and made it back to the trailhead at 7pm.  The single-day option  makes for a grueling day and I don’t recommend it to anyone who isn’t in good shape.

Starting up

The Mountaineer’s Route, on the other hand, isn’t nearly as long as the main trail, but is a very direct route up the North Fork of Lone Pine Creek.  It is only 7 miles in each direction, but the trail has boulders to navigate, fast streams to cross, a dangerous ledge that has claimed lives in the past (Ebersbacher Ledges) and in late Spring, plenty of snow.  Snow can be your best friend or your worst enemy, depending on how much there is and how firm it is.  Last year’s attempt on the Mountaineer’s Route ended in the final snow chute at 2pm, when it became obvious that the slow going had soaked up so much time that we had to turn around or be stuck on the mountain overnight.  This year’s plan was to camp just under halfway up the trail at Lower Boy Scout Lake, making it easier to reach the steep chute at a point in the day when the snow would be easy to cross.

Lower Boy Scout Lake

The first day passed quickly as we left Lone Pine at 12pm, left the trail head at 2pm and were at Lower Boy Scout Lake by 5pm.  It was a beautiful and warm evening and we could see the peak looming above us in the distance.  Little did we know that it was a little too sunny and too warm for that time of the evening, that high on the mountain.  Craig went to filter water from the lake, while Jeanne and I set up the tent and started dinner.  With a plan to start hiking by 6am, we were turned in and sleeping by 9pm.  Despite the altitude, which can make sleeping difficult, we slept well and woke up to a beautiful pre-dawn sky.  It looked like it would be a gorgeous day, and it didn’t feel as though the temperature had gone below freezing.

Summit day

Other than being conspicuously warm, Day 2 was off to a great start.  We had our oatmeal, eggs and bacon and set off on the snowfield just above our campsite.  The snow didn’t seem very firm but it wasn’t very soft, either, and we were very fresh.  As we climbed higher, however, the temperature began to rise and the snow grew softer and deeper.  There are a series of snowfields as the climb passes Upper Boy Scout Lake, goes over a ridge into the large bowl below the Summit, and then up a steep hill to Iceberg Lake.  It is from Iceberg Lake that the final push is made up the snow chute.  By the time we reached this point, we were ‘postholing’ in the snow, which refers to suddenly dropping into deep, soft snow rather than being able to walk normally on the surface.  Beyond tiring, postholing causes injuries to the lower leg as there are often rocks or tree branches hiding beneath the snow’s surface with empty space around them.

The chute

We reached the final chute that leads to the Summit at 10am, far earlier than the previous year.  What we found, however, were snow conditions that were significantly softer than the previous year.  Jeanne and I climbed one hundred meters or so before deciding that the conditions weren’t safe to continue.   Our intrepid friend, however, made the decision to go for the top and soon disappeared above us.

Waiting for Craig

We waited for Craig, first in the chute, until the combination of the sun and its reflection off the snow made waiting unbearable, and then down below where we could see his return.  We were concerned that he would run out of water, and began filling water bottles with snow and laying them in the sun to melt.  Three hours later, an exhausted Craig was spotted sliding down the chute.  We were significantly relieved to see him and he was just as happy to see that we had water for him, as he had run out.  It always amazes me how much climbing dehydrates the body and how snow, unmelted, doesn’t solve the problem.

Going down

With more time than last year, the descent should have been an easy one, but the snow was so soft that at times we dropped into holes to our armpits, and only our backpacks slowed the drop.  In the steepest sections, we could sit and slide down on the snow to save significant energy and time, but there were also sections that weren’t so steep and simply had to be negotiated with care, with each of us periodically letting out a yell as we dropped into a hole.  Once we made it back to our campsite, we broke down our tent, repacked our backpacks and headed down the trail once again.  The stream crossings were made more difficult by the higher volume of water gushing down from the extremely warm and snowy slopes above.

Back at the trailhead

We were back at our car by 7pm and exhausted.  It had been another tough climb and for Jeanne and I, disappointing that our camp halfway and early start didn’t make the summit any more possible.  We have no choice but to tackle it again.