Much like my last stop, here on the northwestern coast of Maui, this stop requires a traverse down. Here more tide pools are formed by the lower ocean levels and rather unique formation under the surface provides a periodic wonder to for visitors to observe.
When the waves roll in just right, a fine mist starts to spray straight up through a hole in the black volcanic ledge. A moment or two later white water comes crashing through and splashes back onto the surface of the rocks. The even repeats every few seconds to a lesser or greater degree, presumably depending upon the angle and intensity of the incoming wave.
I stick around to observe several of these spouts and crashes from the blowhole, which do actually look very much like those created by the humpback whales I saw a couple of days ago in Lahaina Harbor. After about twenty minutes, I head back up to the car. This is my final stop for the day and for this vacation, but it was quite a way to finish.
Next stop for today's adventure on Maui are the Olovine Pools. To reach them, I have to travel further along the "road of death" and then hike down a steep rock cliff side once more to where the lava rocks meet the ocean.
At the bottom, I find dozens of people sitting and soaking in the green salt water pools left here when the tide recedes. Small fish remain trapped in these pools and scatter when the see people walk nearby. In the distance, the waves continue to batter the stony shoreline as they have done for many thousands of years. A sign further back on the trail told the story of a family member who was taken by the waves in 2017 and never seen again. A sad tale, but with the violence of the waves crashing now, during calm skies, I can only imagine what it would be like with a choppy sea.
After taking a few pictures and exploring around the area, I head back up the way I came and depart for my next stop.
For my second hike of the day, I chose a short hike to the Makamakaole Falls. This trail starts on the side of the road, along an area I've heard called the highway of death. After driving a distance along this road, along the northwestern side of the island of Maui, I can understand why. Several blind curves and narrow passes make the road bad enough, but considering some of those spots have drop-offs just a couple of feet from the edge of the road that fall hundreds of feet into the stony ocean shore below, the road earns its name.
I find a wider spot to park and search for a trailhead, which is no more than a fashioned cave through some incredibly thick foliage. The trail is narrow, but worn, and leads about a tenth of a mile before emerging on a tall green hillside. The falls is apparently along the small stream that carved this lush deep valley.
Arriving at the actual falls, it's not as impressive as one might think, but the seclusion, clearness of the water, and perfect depth of the pool at the bottom would make a perfect lover's rendezvous. The waterfall itself carves its way through stone, cascading over a couple of falls before feeding the pool. I take it in for a few minutes before returning to the car via a slightly different, but similar route.
Today, my last full day on the island of Maui, I'm hoping to visit a number of interesting wonders. The first on the list is the Waihou Spring, which I know little about - only what I've read. I leave the hotel at sunrise and arrive at the trail head after traveling a narrow and winding road up the side of the mountain.
The trail starts out in the most unexpected way, through a pine forest, which would seem much more in place near my home in Reno, NV. The pine needle carpeted forest, while familiar to me, is so bizarre to see here on this tropical island. Again, I'm amazed at the diversity in this place.
The trail loops around until it final comes to a steep cliff-side. The vegetation has changed to more of what I would expect here in the form of lush greenery. Signs warn of the danger of the trail from there, but as the trail seems to be well worn, I decide to proceed with caution.
Numerous steep switchbacks allow me to reach the bottom of the cliff, from which I can see the site to behold. A nearly vertical stone cliff is covered in moss and ferns. It rises perhaps 150 ft from a creek bed. Numerous small caves are obvious in the stone face. Probably too small for a human, but I suspect bats and other forest creatures might take advantage of these pre-made shelters, if they don't mind the running water, that is. The spring apparently flows out of the stone itself. It seems to almost sweat out the moisture. At present, the water flowing is only a trickle, but judging by the displaced rocks in the creek-bed and the size of the creek, I suspect that in times of high precipitation, the water flows much more rapidly.
I turn back and head for the rental car. The trail started out with a surprise and ended with really amazing cliff face. I hiked just over 2.1 miles on this short trail, but it was well worth it.
In the early 1800's trails were built in and around the island of Maui to connect communities. One such trail remains on the southern side of the island and is known as the Hoapili Trail or the Kings's highway.
The trail starts at a remote, but gorgeous beach, where cooled lava flow meets the sea. This truly is one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen. The mix of black lava rock, white sand, and blue ocean water is magical. I must move on further and see what this trail has to offer.
From here the trail moves into what I can only describe as a haunted forest setting. Twisting and dying tree trunks and branches create tangle of grayish brown mesh. Volcanic rocks have been piled into makeshift walls, presumable as the base for dwellings or windbreaks for past travelers of this road. As the never-ending winds blow in from the ocean, the trees creak and twist in a ghostly cacophony.
Further on, the trail enters an open lava field that seems to extend to the north endlessly. A couple of feral goats go hopping away over the difficult terrain as I approach. This area of the trail is lifeless and difficult to traverse, which makes me curious as to why the goats would be out here. Only they know.
After nearly a mile across the lava flow, I begin to get a little board and with limited time available, I decide to turn back, but before I do, I explore a side trail that leads out to a small peninsula. Between the trail and the ocean waves crashing in, a group of trees shelters what appears to be a tent city. I can see a number of shelters and note a number of voices talking in the distance. I can't help but wonder how permanent this little community is. Being off the beaten path, they must not get detected much and sheltered by the trees, they likely get protection from any storms that blow in.
Finally turning back, and heading back to the trailhead, I'm amazed at the diversity along this trail. Had I continued further across the lava field, this trail leads to another beach much like the trail head, but I'm out of time. I was able to get in right about three amazing miles on this trail.
When searching for hiking trails and various points of interest I might want to check out while visiting Maui, I was somewhat surprised to learn of petroglyph site near the village of Olowalu. Of course, I had to visit and though I just finished running a half-marathon, I'll somehow find the energy for this short hike.
Following the windy road just a mile or so behind the general store, I reach the lonely hill alongside a small creek, which I believe is the home to this Hawaiian rock art. A short hike around to the backside leads me to an informational markers and the actual panels.
From what I read, the glyphs are thought to be between 200 and 300 hundred years old. I can see many different figures, most of which are stylized humanoid designs. I've visited rock art sites all of the American west, but seeing similar designs on a remote pacific island only re-emphasizes how alike we all are. We must treasure what is similar between us, whether than battle over what is different.
I started running about five years ago in order to try and keep in hiking shape during the off-season, but since then, it has become its own hobby. In that time, I've run one full marathon, seven half-marathons, and numerous races of shorter distances. I've found that half-marathons are my preferred distance and I like to find events that have scenic routes that I have never been to before. The Maui Oceanfront Half-Marathon was actually the initial inspiration for the entire Hawaiian vacation. Unfortunately between early summer and the early winter, a period of almost six months, I did almost no training. In late November, I got back on the band wagon and I have been pushing myself very hard since that time. This will be my first half in over six months and I'm anxious to see how much my training has paid off.
Rising early and heading to the area around Lahaina Harbor, I get ready for the starting gun. I'm feeling strong this morning and while I don't expect to reach my personal goal of a sub-2 hour half today, I do think I'm going to be able to make a pretty good showing. As the start time for my wave approaches, the sunlight begins to brighten the world around us and I put on my sunglasses in preparation.
At 6:40 AM, the starting gun for my wave sounds and we're off. There are approximately 300 runners in my wave, and as we make our way through a residential area during our first mile, pace groups start to naturally form. I'm feeling strong and end up passing a number of runners that came out of the gate ahead of me. After the first mile, highway 30 leaves the residential area and begins the long trek along the shoreline. With my whale-watching adventure yesterday, I seem to always be on the lookout for spouts and breaches now, but unfortunately, I don't see any this morning.
At the turn around, I'm still feeling pretty strong. The course has been mostly flat, which is good because that is what I have been training on. As I pass a couple of struggling runners, I try to give them a word of encouragement. This is an interesting event in that it combines a full marathon, half-marathon, 10k, and 5k. The full marathon is point to point and started twenty-six miles from our starting point, while the other distances are all out-and-back from the full marathon's finish line. It seems to work out well logistically.
As I approach the last couple of miles, I can feel myself really fatigued and I'm forced to walk some short distance during some very mild uphills, but I keep the walking to a minimum and when I finally see the finish line in the distance, I call on my reserves and finish strong. My official time was 2:17:37, which is my second best for a half-marathon (by 1 single second). It's not my sub-2 hour time, but I'm very happy with this performance as a check point. I'm confident I will be able to reach my goal this year and I'm going to keep pushing myself hard to do so. As far as this event, it offered some amazing scenery and I'm glad to have been part of it.
The 2,250 foot lush green spire rising out of the Iao Valley was used in centuries past by the indigenous peoples of Hawaii as a lookout tower during wartime. The Iao Needle as it is known is a point of dense rock, which remains after the adjacent stone was worn away by millennia of erosion.
As I being this short hike, a light drizzle begins. In my short time on Maui, this seems to be the norm. Most of the trail is paved. A bridge cross the creek running beside the needle and offers an amazing view of the tall spire. This place reminds me of a lush version of Zion, with the Needle representing Angel's Landing.
The pavement ends as the trail heads down towards the river and into a lush forest populated by a myriad of tropical species of foliage. It reminds of a tropical rain forest. The total hike here is just shy of a mile, but the scenery more than makes up for the short distance.
One of the things I was most looking forward to during this trip to Hawaii was a boat trip I had scheduled to watch the humpback whales off the coast of Lahaina on the southwestern side of Maui. We departed the harbor at about 7:00 AM just after sunrise. There were approximately a dozen of us on the tour, plus the boat captain and first mate. Our boat has some power and quickly got us out into the open ocean.
As I understand it from our crew, the sea between the islands of Maui and Lanai is very shallow (only about 400 feet deep) and somewhat nutrient poor. Because of the shallow waters and lack of predators, humpback mothers use this area as a nursery for their calves. Males also visit this area in the hopes of a female taking interest. Supposedly, this is one of the best areas in the world for viewing humpback whales.
Our enthusiasm is almost immediately met with rewards, as we quickly see a mother and calf rising to the surface to spout. The captain explains that we should be looking for spouts as our whale sign. Laws prevent us from approaching any closer than 100 yards to the whales, but with our engines cut, the whales can approach as closely as they want to us and often their curiosity sends them in for an up close and personal meeting.
In all directions we see spouts, the captain moves us around the area for two full hours following numerous groups of whales as they play around the harbor. Most commonly, we see whales spout, but occasionally, we catch a tail rising into the air, as the whale dives deeper, and a couple of times, we see the whales breaching in the distance. Unfortunately, getting pictures out here, especially with a mediocre camera, is very difficult. The problem mostly being the focus. It's difficult to get the lens to focus quickly enough to catch the whales before they dive again. I am able to catch a few shots, but none of the breachers, as they were too distance for my lends.
As with all good things, our whale watching tour must come to an end, but it was an amazing experience. While it's impossible to know how many were repeats, we probably saw seventy-five whales spouting and diving through the course of the tour. These beautiful giants are awe-inspiring and I can't wait to visit them again someday.
In the town of Lahaina on the western coast of Maui, a seedling banyan tree was planted in 1873 to memorialize the 50th anniversary of the first American Protestant Mission in Lahaina. At the time the tree was approximately 8 feet tall. By 2005, the tree had grown to nearly 50 feet tall, with 19 trunks, and a total circumference of nearly a quarter of a mile.
Banyan trees are native to India and completely foreign to me. Unlike trees from the mainland of the United Stats, banyan trees grow and expand by dropping multiple trunks and interconnecting them with a gigantic canopy that is home to flocks of birds. These birds make their presence known when anyone walks around under the canopy.
When planning this trip to Hawaii, many of my friends recommended visiting the remote town of Hana on the far eastern side of Maui and the Haleakala Volcano. The Road to Hana is famous for it's narrowness, 617 blind curves, and 59 bridges. Driving the road inspires nightmares for some and while I was perfectly open to driving it, I decided instead to take a tour bus.
The tour company picked me up promptly at 7:00 AM at my hotel and transported me to meet the other tourists for a quick breakfast at a golf-course before beginning our trek. I ended up sitting next to an friendly, but elderly lady named Dee who was also visiting Maui for the first time. She was cute, but often in need of minor assistance with her seat belt or other minor things throughout the day. I was happy to assist. We departed at approximately 8:00 AM and began the long, dangerous Road to Hana.
Our first stop, was at a public beach overlooking Kahului. In the distance, a rainbow springs from the clouds above and marks the western volcanoes that form Maui. Below us, our guide points out two sea turtles that have crawled their way onto the beach. The massive and majestic creatures seem almost at home in the white sand of this shoreline.
Heading on a bit further, the experience does not disappoint. Many of these curves are completely blind and must be quite scary to drive. I'm sure our guide is comfortable with the road though, as he does this five days a week. He next stops at Waianapanapa Black Sand Beach.
The guide informs us that we have thirty minutes or so to explore the glorious black shoreline, where volcanic lava flow meets blue ocean. The beach below is amazing and I can't help myself by wade a few feet from the shore. The water is cold at first, but quickly becomes more comfortable. To my right, a small lava tube serves as a curiosity to many visitors, but I'm more interested in what lies beyond. I begin hiking to the distant peninsula crowned by tall black volcanic stone. Some of the others on the bus with me, follow along. The trail is only about a half-mile at most, but covers a large range of geologic features. Finally arriving at a blowhole, we wait for its event a couple of times before heading back to the bus.
Along the way, we encounter a number of amazing waterfalls. Most of the curves in this precarious road skirt around valleys and many of those valleys contain waterfalls. I've probably seen more waterfalls than most people reading this blog, but the falls here in this lush, tropical environment are different than any I have ever seen. They aren't the tall, majestic ones of Yosemite Valley, nor are they the welcome falls of the high desert. They have character all their own. Ferns and a myriad of other unfamiliar plants create frames around most the falls forming quite a site to see.
Finally arriving at the small town of Hana, we stop for lunch. A small native craft shop and garden are nice enough to host us. After having a wonderful meal and some interesting conversation with my fellow tourists, I decide to take a walk into the garden, which includes well groomed examples of numerous native plants. Some, like the apple-banana trees are not all that foreign, while others (which I don't know the name of) are completely new to my eyes.
From our lunch stop, we head around the south side of the volcano into the dry section of the island. Due to the weather patterns, this part of the island gets substantially less precipitation than the other areas. The landscape is reminiscent of the high desert that I call home, but the plants are foreign, as are the blue ocean waves crashing in the distance.
We stop briefly at a an area our guide refers to as the Grand Canyon of Maui. Here, rain has carved giant gulches into the side of the volcano over the centuries to transport water to the sea. It's truly breathtaking.
Our final stop is at a organic honey farm. Here the bee-keepers harvest honey and sell snow-cones to the curious tourists. As I talk with the workers, it seems most of them are part of a traveling collective that essentially travels the world, working at such places for room, board, and a small wage while visiting, before moving onto their next stop. If only I were twenty years younger, this might be a very appealing lifestyle for me.
Finally arriving back at my hotel, I bid the group, the guide, and my new friend, Dee adieu. Seeing the wonderfully cheerful elderly lady sitting in that bench seat on the bus, I can't help but wonder if that will be me in a few years. Each day is a treasure and we are each blessed to experience as many of them as we possibly can. In total, we covered 121 miles today and while the winding road was scary at times, it was a journey I won't soon forget.
After witnessing the most stunning sunrise of my life at the top of Haleakala, it seemed only fitting to get some hiking in while I'm up here on above the island of Maui. Besides, what better to do when on top of a volcano then stay a while? From the parking lot, I walk up the paved walkway to the summit, which is marked by an glass-enclosed observation deck and a sign indicating the elevation of 10,022 feet above sea level.
From there, I walk down the approach road and past the astronomical observatory, known as "Science City", that was built here to explore the mysteries of our universe. At least three telescope silos are clearly visible, but as this is run by the US Department of Defense, it is off limits to civilians.
The paved road circles around the peak with the telescopes before a side trail splits off to the south at a clearly marked sign indicating the Skyline Trail. From there the wide, well-worn trail becomes a single track through a desolate volcanic landscape with little or no vegetation. All of the Hawaiian islands were created by volcanic activity, but at this elevation, very little plant life has ever really taken root.
As I continue down the trail, I'm startled by a heard of feral goats roaming the wasteland in search of what little vegetation is here. Maui has served as a crossroads for the world for centuries and a number of invasive species have taken over the island, including chickens, domestic cats and goats. As I note a large area of lava flow fenced off, I observe a few odd plants growing inside the fenced area. Later after I return, I learn that the goats have decimated a native plant species called silversword. This fence is a modest attempt at preservation.
In the distance, I have a clear view of two of the other Hawaiian Islands, Lanai and Kahoolawe. I've been a lot of places in my life and seen some amazing things, but this view is unique and unbelievable in my experience. The vastness of the ocean and the remoteness of these islands comes into specific relief from up here. It truly forces one to consider how small we are in this great big world.
A number of cinder cones have formed all around the island as pressure releases for the larger caldera. I make way to the summit of ones just off trail. As I take in the view, a cloud roles in and drops the finest mist I have ever felt on my head. It's not even wet. It's more like a blanket of microscopic ice crystals being pulled over my head.
As turn back the way I came, can't help but think that this volcano must be somewhat like Mt. Fuji near Tokyo, Japan, which I intend to visit sometime in the next couple of years. Seeing a volcano literally rising out of the see is breathtaking.
Arriving back at the rental car, I see that I've covered just about 10.5 miles, which is a pretty good start. This trail itself was not that amazing, but it does offer some amazing views of Hawaii. I can't wait to see what else this week has in store.
Of all the amazing things to do in Hawaii, seeing the sunrise from the top of Haleakala was highly recommended to me as a "must do".Arriving in Maui yesterday evening, this is really my first item the agenda for this vacation. I've never been to Hawaii prior to this trip and so, I will try to pack in as much as possible into this short week. Because of the popularity of this activity, the National Park Service requires reservations for anyone to enter the park between 3:00 AM and 7:00 AM, which only cost a dollar per car and must be made either well in advance or two days before. Luckily, I made those arrangements.
Leaving the hotel at about 4:00 AM, I head up the windy mountain road up the giant volcanic cone. It's extremely dark and there is little development in this area. Upon arriving at the park, I'm a little surprised to see a park ranger checking the reservations. The federal government has been in a stalemate over the border wall and on a partial shutdown for a couple of weeks, but the park rangers, dedicated to their duties, trudge on without pay. I thank the young lady for her service and let her know that she is appreciated.
At the top, it's still very dark, but more importantly, it's colder than hell. Haleakala rises to 10,022 feet straight out of the Pacific Ocean. With no other mountains or other obstructions, the wind blows hard . . . really hard up here. Between the 20-ish degree air temperature and the 80-ish mph winds blowing so hard I have to brace myself, the wind chill up here must be 20 or 30 below zero. Luckily, I prepared for this with several layers of warm clothing, unlike many of the other enthusiasts up here.
Perhaps a hundred or more people are huddled along the rails up here looking to the southeast over the giant caldera. Most try their best to wrap themselves in blankets or whatever they happened to bring with them, as they look out over the dark cloud bank awaiting the appearance of our life-giving star. We're all freezing up here, but the anticipating warms our souls. At four minutes after the seven o'clock hour, the magic happens. A thick cloud bank sits below us and carpets the ocean below all the way to the horizon. At the far side of that horizon, a fiery orange light bursts through. This magnificent sunrise signals the start of new day, and I must admit to this being the most divine sunrise my eyes have ever witnessed.
Prior to leading the wine group that I run through this month's Carson City Wine Walk, I wanted to get in a few extra trail miles. I recently learned of a short trail just outside of Gardnerville. It seemed perfect for today. I ended up passing the turnoff accidentally and had to back track a couple of miles, but eventually found my way to Pinenut Road and the trailhead for the Pinyon Trail.
The skies are angry this morning and a winter storm is moving in, but the snow and/or rain isn't expected to start until later this afternoon. I should have plenty of time for a quick hike and then the wine walk. It's fairly desolate out here at the start of the trail. From the map I had reviewed, the trail simply wanders around a small hill here in the Carson Valley. Framed by the Sierra Nevada to the west and the Carson Range to the East, the views from the trail are outstanding. It's the perfect time of year with snow-covering the taller peaks.
The trail itself is well marked and well groomed. My compliments to whomever maintains this area, as this truly is one of the nicest trails I've ever hiked. After winding around the western side of the hill, the trail splits at a sign clearly labeled 'loop'. Since my intention is to hike the entirety of the trail, it doesn't really matter which fork I choose, but I decide to go left, meaning I will return on the right.
All in all, this trail is pretty flat with only a couple of hundred feet of elevation gain across the entire length of the trail. As I return to the fork and head back down towards my jeep, I notice a couple of large tracks. I don't see any claw marks and I suspect this it was made by a mountain lion, but luckily, it's a few days old. Finally reaching the jeep, I quickly change clothes and shoes in preparation for some wine-drinking. The trail was about 5.2 miles long and while not including anything particularly note-worthy, it does offer some nice views of the mountain ranges and a good workout.
The dawn of a new year always brings the opportunity to start things off fresh and right. I decided to simply keep doing what I've been doing whenever time allows, and get out for a snowshoe. A meet up group that I haven't hiked with in a couple of years had posted a snowshoe trip into Grover Hot Springs State Park near Markleeville, CA and since I have never visited this area, it seemed a great opportunity to do so.
Meeting two other hikers at Trader Joe's in Carson City on a frigid New Years Day, we caravaned the thirty-five miles south to the park. The two ladies I was with wanted to take a dip in the improved hot springs pool before leaving, and as I wanted to get home after the snowshoe, I drove separately. The park was closed when we arrived, but being unsure of entry fees I asked a gentlemen tending to pool fed by the hot springs. He said not to worry about it this time.
As we surveyed the surrounding hills and mountains, we saw snow only at the higher elevations and so, decided to forego our snowshoes and simply hike. While this area is gorgeous, I have very little in the way of expectations of what we might find along the trail. My fellow hikers mentioned a waterfall not terribly far away and we decide to make our way to check it out.
With the air temperature around twenty degrees this morning, the creek is mostly frozen over, but some flowing water can be seen through the small ice sheets. The path to the waterfall requires a minor amount of rock scrambling, but it provides a nice diversion.
After a mile or so, we arrive at the falls, which must be a site to see in the spring, but is currently mostly frozen over. Three separate falls cascade over the rocks at the end of this little canyon. Each must be a torrent during the spring melts. We scramble around a bit trying to get some good shots, but the sun has not yet climbed over the mountain to the southeast and we are in complete shadow. Still, it's a nice site.
We double-back the way we came and decide to hike up part of the way towards Burnside Lake hoping to get a better view of the valley. From the fork that divides the waterfall trail from the lake trail, we start up the mountainside through a dense alpine forest. It's pretty steep, but I'm happy to get the exercise. After about a mile, we find a nice clearing in the trees that offers a pretty good view and we decide to stop for a quick snack before returning to the cars.
The way back is pretty easy going and we make good time. A few other hikers are now hiking in the way from the way we came. Apparently, it has warmed up enough to bring out some crowds. Arriving back at the cars, I see we have hiked nearly 5.1 miles. What a great way to start out the year.
