Mauna Kea Squared—From Sea to Summit (II)

(MK)2-- Mauna Kea Squared—From Sea to Summit
Part II


The Pohakuloa Road: A tank crossing. Note the ‘one lane plus+’ style. Mauna Loa in back ground.

I descended the road onto the plain of Pohakuloa making my way over the last of the hillocks that ripple along the edges of the great southern ridge of Mauna Kea. (30, 9:00, 5500). The winds subsided as I dropped down into the low protective bowl of the western part of the plain. It warmed and I occasionally felt a wisp of day heat emanating from the cooling roadside. The road through Pohakuloa is nasty. It’s deceptively rolling hills hide the constant climb, and despite the few hundred feet of drop from the high ridge one is gaining altitude. The only saving grace is there is a lot of room off to the side where you can flee when the crazy mad Hilo drivers blitzkrieg their way toward their jobs in Kona. It is about seven miles through the military camp and another seven or eight to gain the Mauna Kea access road. The first seven is nasty; a dry and scrubby land devoid of charm, an ugly area with only redeeming feature that it offers a point from which to appreciate the beauty of the mountains that dominate. There is not much that the military can do to ruin the land that nature has not already achieved on her own. The best bet is to just keep pace through the long climb.

Stomach cramps harassed and slowed me as I climbed to the eastern edge of the plain and I just made it to the Mauna Kea State Park at the end of the Pohakuloa road (37, 10:30,6300) where there is a toilet. I wasn't so lucky the next time somewhere down the new road that leads to the eastern section of the saddle, and after another delay moved on up that boring but safer section of new road. After a long slow hard hike I made the turn near the base of Mauna Kea Road (50,14,6600) and felt escorted to the access road by the massive 1984 Mauna Loa flow. Mauna Loa, still growing, continues to redefine the landscape and here she appears to have flowed up the lower slopes of Mauna Kea. Once on the access road one can look out to the left and see the flow pacing you up the first stages of the rise. Yet there is a distinct upward slope to the lava, and as much as 100 feet drop back to the low point; as if the slow motion momentum of the lava down Mauna Loa carried over the saddle and up the slopes of Mauna Kea before it found a shallower path toward Hilo.

Looking up the Mauna Kea Observatory Road. Note lava fields in foreground.

Once on the access road the real test of the run began--the steep accent of Mauna Kea's final 7700 feet to the summit at Pu’u Kukahau’ula, which occurs in a distance of about 12 miles. I felt better after a bag of Doritos and a red bull at the drop bag, one of the few that I could find or hadn't been raided by the pigs, and I began the 6 mile jaunt to the Visitors Center. The grade of the road can be deceptive as the mountain is so steep, so even the easiest slope the road can find is hard. In the first mile I looked back and found that I was at least 500 feet above the saddle plain, the road and the cars already looking quite small. When the road took a turn I was faced with some of the more impressive climbs. Just picture six miles of Concretes stretching out before you, or the Peacock flats road running far, far up into the distance, and you have a picture of the road. Some of the posted grades are upwards to 17%. But hills are my forte and David was still almost two hours ahead of me so I pushed up that section making the Center in about 2:30. (56, 16:30, 9000). Charles and Stella were there to greet me. The rangers were aware of our venture, and did not hassle us, though they made it clear that the road was not safe and the trail was the only real option to a hiker. The road is steep and unpaved and cars are prone to go too fast and then plane along the loose gravel as the drivers fight to control the vehicles. It is not a great place to be walking. Don't get paranoid about talking your plans over with the rangers. It is a nasty place up-slope and it can get a lot worse very quickly. You are in snow and high wind country at anytime of year. If it gets ugly up there they will have to come and find you.

Steep grades along access road are daunting.

I headed up the Humu’ula trail with about 17:00 showing on my watch. It is posted as 4.5 miles but they don't count the meanderings it makes up the hill sides or the detours through some of the outer circles of hell. Count them and it has to be at least 6, maybe a few hundred miles. The trail is up, there is no other way, a steep slope of sliding sand, gravel, and rock. The scree is endless, and the only method is to look for the freshest foot steps of those who went before you and put one foot in front of the other. I quickly learned that one can not look up without getting dizzy, or down with out suffering mild vertigo. The only answer is to keep your eyes on your next step. It is the zen of the pace. One step at a time and not thinking about the long, long slope that you know is above you. Occasionally in a pocket of less steep ground I would allow myself a moment to look around. Stunning; Mauna Loa so close you feel you can reach out and touch her; and eon of lava flows visible down her sides and large cinder cones disturbing her long seemingly gentle slope, far below the saddle road winding tiny through the lowest pu’u of Mauna Kea. The upper slopes of Mauna Kea reaching high above you. The scree and lava kaleidoscopic in its variations; everywhere there are changing colors and everywhere it is different yet unchanging. Vegetation was left far behind almost at the beginning of the trail, and nothing seems interested or capable of setting its roots in the higher altitude lava flows. The trail wanders up the mauka edges of the Waikahalulu Gulch which I had last seen cutting a ragged gash down the slope and emptying out into to Pohakuloa Plain. Now it was a large steep trough in the land the bottom of its cliffs lost over the edges of the ridges and flows of ancient lava. The gulch added to the steepness of the terrain but at the same time provided a path up through the rugged landscape.

In the midst of ascending the trail the altitude began to get to me a bit. Long sections were interspersed with periods of putting my hands on my knees and breathing hard just to catch my breath. Mild hallucinations became common but not endangering. I saw many people sitting in caves in the cliffs above me, heard voices in the winds, saw a score of people wandering lost ahead of me, passed a junkyard worth of old farm and mining equipment, and there was the woman in white robes and long flowing hair who would appear on the high ridges or standing at the mouth of a cave and then disappear as I finally approached. Perhaps it was the goddess Lilinoe, goddess of mists, who had tested me so severely in the first hours of the run. It is said that in her earthly form she was a chiefess who wandered the slopes of the mountain and upon her death was buried in a cave near the summit. Now nearing the end of my climb she looked down on me and let me pass apparently satisfied that I had proved my strong will to finish my quest.

Along the Humu’ula Trail: Ahu, stone markers placed to mark the trails to the traditional adz quarries. Mauna Loa at our shoulders.

Sometimes my surroundings were so powerfully beautiful I had to stop and acknowledge it, had to just stand there in the sun shine and open my arms to the power of mountain. It could have been the altitude, or the long trek, but everything from the rocks at my feet to the long slopes of Mauna Loa, was clear and sharp before me. The world had a crispness that I could remember only in childhood memories. I wanted to enjoy this and I was tempted to crawl into one of the caves like the others and just sit there and stare out at the magnificence. And that is the problem. It is so easy to get side tracked, to wander from the trail to look at things, real or otherwise. It is easy to stop and rest, to sit and stare out at Mauna Loa, or up at the peaks of the many pu'u, cinder cones, of Mauna Kea. It is easy to forget that the sun sets quickly and it gets cold, or that the winds come up quickly. But I had a guardian angel with me who kept whispering in my ear. 'Stay on the path, and don't stop Mike.', she said again and again. I did as I was advised, and soon realized that the peace and calm I felt could be transitory if I lost the way or forgot the goal. Hell has many forms and this high land of stunning scenery could be one of them if you don't heed your angels.


...Like many rolls of giant toilet paper and debris, observatories litter the summit peaks.

Hours later and totally drained of energy I managed to make the last ridge of the lava fields, pass around the steep slopes of Pu’u Waiau and down into the lake that shares its name. Then around the slopes of Pu’u Hau Kea and down into the last of the upper valleys where one can stare up at Pu’u Poliahu, named for the mist goddess, and up at Kukahau’ula the highest peaks that make up the summit. As I made my way to the road I was euphoric, but almost totally tapped out. Observatories lay scattered across the landscape like giant piles of discarded soiled toilet paper. There are at least a dozen buildings spread over the upper reaches of Mauna Kea, some truly ugly and lacking any particular architectural merit. The quest for knowledge can occasionally be unclean, and the highest few hundred feet of Mauna Kea give proof to that. But they might just as well have been illusions, hallucinations that I saw. I was stumbling drunk from lack of oxygen and the long hard climb. I made the road that leads up the final five hundred feet and was happy to find Charles, Stella and David waiting for me. David had finished an half hour ahead of me and had waited to do the final few hundred feet with me.


David and I hike the last five hundred feet, the last half mile, the last bit of strength. Pu’u Poliahu in the back ground.


The final switchback road started out as a was walk ten paces, rest for a minute, walk ten paces affair. I hardly had the energy to take ten steps. After a few hundred feet I finally realized that if I hyperventilated I could get enough oxygen into my system to keep moving. So, huffing like the little engine that could I just kept pushing up the road. Finally, my head swimming, and the world shimmering about me I made it to the observatory where I could look out on the highest of the pu'u, the true summit of Mauna Kea, ka piko kaulana o ka ‘aina, the famous summit of the land. David and I stumbled down the trail and crossed over for the final climb. We reached to top together (57, 21:00, 13900) and gave thanks to the great goddess of Mauna Kea for allowing us entry into her realm. I left my pebble there in memory of Keoua, the fallen king. We had completed our pilgrimage from sea to summit. We had walked in the footsteps of our passed Hawaiian brethren and learned a bit more of them and ourselves.
The journey is complete.

David completed the longest run of his career and did so over some of the most brutal and intense ground I have traversed. If he can do this he can do any run, distance is no barrier. It is the first time he has beaten me in an ultra and he has my greatest respect for it. I'm proud of him and honor the incredible maturity and perseverance he displayed in reaching the summit.

This run was the most difficult I have ever completed. The weather was nasty, the traffic was insane, the roads were bad, my body gave me problems, and the climb was just devastatingly endless. I am grateful for the chance to complete this venture. For all the things that went wrong there were always Charles and Stella somewhere near by to give me a bottle of water or a hot sandwich when I really needed it. I don't think either David or I could have made it without their help as our drop bag system failed miserably and the weather was so funky. They have my deepest thanks and appreciation for their help and support.
I doubt I will attempt this venture again from the Kona side. In the end the traffic is the most negative factor. Hilo beckons and the Lady Mauna Loa, has entranced me. Perhaps it's a Mauna Loa squared, or another version of the sands to summit, but she calls and I am going to get ready...just as soon as I visit Death Valley, and help Don complete his greatest adventure.
Aloha!