Tuesday, March 10, 2020

Good morning,

Yesterday we walked 15 miles along the Kilalau trial on the Napali coast of Kauai. The trail is reputed to be one of the most beautiful and most dangerous in the world. What they don’t tell you is that it is also one of the muddiest (at least in winter).

Our hike started at 6:30 a.m., in dim light. The goal was to hike to mile 7 on the trail and get back to the parking lot by 7 p.m., when our ride would pick us up. After a quick look at the beach, we started walking – up. The trail is rarely flat, almost always going up or down as it follows a jagged coast line of basalt that has been eroded over the millennia. The flowers, scents, and birds created a wonderful ambiance, and it rained on us about every half hour. Through the mist, we could make out the coast line.

The trail was not challenging in a cardiovascular way, because it took us so long to place each foot and gain purchase in the mud, rocks, and roots along the trail. However, it made walking quite slow. We made it to mile 6 around 11 a.m., and took a half mile side trail that was poorly marked to find ourselves at the base of an amazing waterfall. It was impossible to take a picture that took in the top and bottom of the waterfall, so I didn’t include a photo here. But it was amazing! And secluded. Signs told us to stay far from the falls in case rocks would fall on us, but we ignored them and got close enough to see the dark green pool that all this white water was cascading into at the bottom. What a tremendous splash!

After we made it back to the main trail, we passed a few hikers, and got to mile 7, just as the scary part of the trail began, the part that is called Crawler’s Ledge. Our plan was to turn around here, both because of time and because I am not so comfortable with walking ledges just a few hundred feet above an angry sea. (Others that passed us went on to camp at a secluded beach at mile 11.) When we reached mile 7, it was 1 p.m., precisely when we had planned to turn around. In a reversal of roles, Dave asked if we could go “just a little farther.” He was excited to flirt with the ledge. I had already kicked rocks off the trail, which was quite narrow at this point, and watched them tumble 40+ feet below me, so I decided to simply sit down and enjoy the view while Dave disappeared around the corner of the cliff. I really hoped he would come back, because I knew I would be useless with any kind of rescue on the rocks below. As soon as I had sat down and looked out to sea, I noticed some strange movements on the water, and realized I was seeing the blow of a whale. A few minutes later, Dave thankfully rejoined me, grinning with his close encounter with certain death, and we sat together watching what we think were two whales move across our view of the water. Wow! Then Dave pointed out a rainbow that was arching across the inlet where the waves were crashing below. Thoroughly satisfied with ledges, whales, and rainbows, we made our way back up the hill and spent the next 6 hours walking back through the mud. This time, however, the sun came out, and we got to see the coast in all its jagged chromatic glory, including several more rainbows.

We arrived back at the beach at the trail head at 6:30 p.m., in time to enjoy the sunset on the beach while stuffing our faces with the last of the foot in our pack before we walked back up to the parking lot to catch our ride home. What an amazing day.

We are extremely footsore and Dave insists that tomorrow be devoted to shopping, sight-seeing, and Kauai single-source chocolate eating. Incidentally, we have booked “seats” on a sunset sail along the Napali Coast tomorrow, so we get to enjoy the coastline once more (doubtless while rain falls for at least part of the time!). We will take a break from walking until Wednesday, when we will visit the “grand canyon” of HawaiiWaimea Canyon.

The next two nights we are staying in a cabin in Kokee State Park, and may not have internet service, so don’t expect to hear from us again until Thursday or Friday, when we fly home!

Cheers,
Erin