Or, How I Brought Maui, Demigod of the Wind & Sea, to Heel.

• Climbers: Solo
• Route: Sliding Sands Trailhead to Halemau’u Trailhead, via Haleakala Crater
• Distance: 11.2 miles
• Elevation Lost: 3,200 feet
• Elevation Gained: 1,400 feet
• Time: 2:45 (including breaks)
• Date: 4/6/18
• Estimated Inches of Rainfall: All of them.
• Soft Shells Rendered Completely & Utterly Useless: One
• $800 Cell Phones Nearly Destroyed by the Rain: One
• Stubborn, Rainy, B*tch-Ass Mountains Defeated by Zambo: One

Sometimes the mountain just needs to be put in its place. This is my story of a very rainy trail run on the Island of Maui and just how much fun misery can be….

Working on the Islands

One of the major perks of working remotely (and for yourself) is that it doesn’t actually matter where you do it. The internet is beautiful that way. With that in mind, Katie and I had been kicking around the idea of an extended ‘working vacation’ all winter. So, when $400 direct flights to Hawaii popped up, it was a no-brainer.

It’s a long drive to this trailhead.

Our first week was spent relaxing at a familiar spot on Kauai. Well, Katie and Odie got to relax. I ended up having way too much work to do and spent more time indoors than I would have liked, but hey, it’s tough to complain when working in a place like Kauai. (Although, I did feel some justification complaining the few mornings that I had 4:00 AM conference calls which had to be taken in the front seat of a POS Nissan Altima rental that smelled like each and every one of its 19,000 miles had been driven by damp, sandy tourists. Those mornings sucked.)

But the upside was the chance to bum around and hike in places like Waimea Canyon on Kauai.

Anyway, week two was slated for Maui. We had never been there before, so we were looking forward to adventuring and exploring a bit more for our time there. One of the adventures I had an eye on was trail running in Haleakala Crater. Running is always one of my favorite ways to explore a new place. Getting to do it on Maui, in a national park, across a semi-active volcano that is over 10,000 feet sounded too good to be true. Sign me up.

Haleakala Peak is a massive shield volcano that forms more than 75% of the island of Maui. The tallest peak of Haleakalā (“house of the sun”), at 10,023 feet, is Puʻu ʻUlaʻula (Red Hill). From the summit, you can look down into a massive depression some 7 miles across, 2 miles wide, and nearly 2,600 feet deep – Haleakala Crater. The surrounding walls of the crater are steep and the interior mostly barren-looking with a scattering of volcanic cones. It’s often been described as “other-worldly” or like the surface of Mars for how unique it is. This was my destination for the day.

3d overview of Haleakala National Park and Crater, taken at the summit visitor center.

Close up of the crater, with my route highlighted in yellow. For scale, the route is 11.2 miles. (Click to Zoom)

I did a really bad job of preparing ahead of time for the run and didn’t do much homework until the day before. I didn’t even take the time to read Ben’s account of doing this very same route (in the opposite direction) a few years ago, or see Brian’s photos from just last year.

But as ill prepared as I was, it doesn’t change the fact that this peak has as interesting of a history, climate, geology, beauty, and mythology as just about any other mountain in the world. I won’t get into all of it, but suffice it to say, Haleakala is as interesting as they come.

It also happens to be the place in Hawaiian mythology where Maui, Demigod of the Wind & Sea, once lassoed the sun god and made him give more daylight to the whole world. But more on that later….

My plan was to actually descend from the summit visitor’s center down into the crater, cross it via the trail network, and then re-ascend the canyon wall at a much lower elevation. With a car shuttle link up provided by Katie and Odie, this route would be just over 11 miles, with most of it downhill or on a flat. Simple. I didn’t really earn the summit this way, but time was of the essence and I wasn’t in the mood to run uphill for almost 9 miles. That said, a very grumpy, very incredulous, very Hawaiian Park Ranger informed me the day before just what a dumb plan this was. After assuring me I couldn’t really run the route because “it’s all sand,” and that a normal trek on my planned route would take “up to 12 hours,” I hung up the phone a bit more than a bit annoyed. Thanks for the encouragement, brah.

One more map of the park and the trails therein. Lots of fun to be had down there on the prety extensive trail network. (Click to Zoom)

Anyway, we awoke the day of and drove the 8,000+ feet up from our Air B&B to the summit visitor’s center of Haleakala National Park. The drive itself was a trip as we passed through multiple climate zones on the way to the top. As we ascended higher up into the alpine, the clouds built and the rain started to fall. Fingers were crossed the whole time that’d we’d have a view, as apparently the weather up here can change in an instant (or so we we’re told…).

Prior to me taking off, we took some time to enjoy the summit and its visitor center.

Bouldering at the lower visitor center. (Hey Chalk – who said there’s not enough rock climbing in Hawaii?) It’s sunny and beautiful for now, but there’s still a lot of uphill yet to go.

At the top now. “You guys said Hawaii would be sunny.”

Haleakala summit. That’s a long way to go straight up from the ocean.

“Nice view you guys brought me up to see…”

Ok…niceities are over. Back at the upper visitor’s center, I made final plans with Katie and Odie, who I planned to meet at my exit in a few hours. I then saddled up and hit the trail.

I don’t know why, but I always like it when the starting point has the ending listed like this.

Fight with a Demigod

It’s been a few weeks now since I found myself trotting down the slopes of that tropical volcano, but even with all that time to reflect, I really don’t quite know how to adequately describe what those first few miles were like.

It was raining. Hard. As I descended downward into the crater (on the excellent, firm, ashy trail, BTW), it started to rain harder. Then it rained even more.

Like I said, I don’t know how to put words to this. I’ve been in some heavy rain storms, but this was another category entirely. This was tropical madness. It was like running in the shower. The sheets and sheets of rain felt like I was directly underneath some fat Hawaiian guy with a bucket. Water filled just about every nook, cranny, crevice, and other orifice imaginable with wetness. I had on my favorite soft shell, which had traveled the entire world with me, and it quickly became no better than a 10lb sponge. Useless. I started fearing for my cell phone, despite how tucked away it was.

Needless to say, the views were nil. The (formerly) great trail was rapidly turning into a river, next to a million other tiny rivers. I felt like I was rafting back home in Colorado, but in Hawaii. I thought back to my question about flash floods I asked the park ranger at the summit. “Ya, they can become very dangerous, but you won’t have to worry about it today.” “Well, you’re batting 0/2 there, park rangers.” I thought to myself.

Did I mention it was raining?

As I went further and further down, I started talking to the mountain gods. First in my head, then out loud. I got the keen sense that Maui, demigod of the wind and sea, was just messing with me. We’d had shit weather almost the entire time we had been in Hawaii and I was sick of it.

So, I decided to fight back.

Now, normally I’m about as conservative of a fellow as you’ll ever find in the mountains. I often say things like “the mountain doesn’t care” and “the peak will always be there” and “better to be safe than sorry”, but this was getting personal. And what’s more, the temps were good, the route safe, and my plan was clear. What’s the worst that could happen? So, I decided that the peak wasn’t going to get the best of me. I was going to get to the bottom of that damn crater and finish that god-damned run.

Hilarity ensued as I quickened my pace, cursed the mountain gods, and defied them to stop my progress. It was man vs. wild. I shouted from the hills like a savage. I jumped down rocks and boulders from one massive puddle after another. I passed a few foreign (and exhausted) hikers working their way back UP the crater who looked on in amazement at what this crazy American was doing out there. Fighting with that guy from Moana, of course.

By the time I reached the crater floor, I had descended over 3,000 feet and covered 4.2 miles in under an hour. And wouldn’t you know it, but by the time I was down, the rain finally started to ease up. Some views of the surrounding hills started to show themselves. Water was no longer pouring off of me like I was standing under a garden hose being held by a mean, laughing older brother. Standing there alone in that crater, about as isolated as you can be anywhere in the world, I knew that I had won. I had brought Maui to heel.

That’s also where I realized I had learned a very important lesson: Most of the time, it’s wise to play it safe in the hills. But sometimes, you have just have to punch the mountain in the throat.

The Way Out

With Maui defeated, the weather finally eased up in the crater. Going from a fire hose to a light drizzle made for really fun conditions and the chance to actually enjoy the wilderness. The trails down there were excellent and as the run flattens out it effectively became a traverse across the surface of Mars. Barren sand, ash, and jagged rocks were punctuated by towering lava cones spread across the landscape. It was definitely one of the cooler environments I’ve ever been to.

When I got to the first junction I encountered the first meaningful vegetation of the run. A stumpy little tree offered some respite from the rain, and a chance to finally pull out the (thankfully not damaged) phone for some pics.

Looking back on just a small portion of the descent route. Most of these pictures aren’t going to be very good, thanks to the rain and clouds. I can only imagine how cool it is down here when clear. It was awesome as all get up even with bad weather.

Lava rocks and volcano cones for days.

I think I saw Sam dragging Frodo along somewhere out there. Coulda been those two chicks I saw wearing (absolutely soaked) jeans tho.

The light drizzle actually helped firm up the sandy surface, so I was able to start moving with decent speed. Now it was getting fun.

Crater floor pano #1. (Click to Zoom)

Crater floor pano #2. (Click to Zoom)

About half way done now. My route wove it’s way around lava cones and intersceted with the excellent trail network.

About halfway through the crater, a small trail diverted off to the side to visit some very rare plants – the Hawaiian Silversword. Thinking this was a cool thing to go see, I took a bunch of photos of them on the loop. Only later did Katie point out I had actually shot a bunch of random, generic plants and NOT the aforementioned silversword….

See that cool lookin plant right there? Not a silversword.

Here’s what a silversword actually looks like (not in bloom), taken by Katie from just off the side of the road. So much for wilderness secrets.

Clouds mostly obscured the valley walls, which loomed up some thousands of feet. But the glimpses through the mist were pretty rad.

See that little blue thing? You might think that was a patch of clear sky, but you would be wrong. Oh so wrong. Actually it was just a blue sky colored rain cloud, which promptly let loose.

About a mile before the route started ascending back up the valley walls, it passed a small hut you can book out. It was closed and locked as I passed by, but the doorstep made for a nice picnic spot. This would be a really cool spot to spend a night with some good friends.

The first 9 miles of this run were either flat or downhill. During the last 2 miles it comes time to pay the piper. A 1,200 foot, windy ascent up the canyon walls were the only way out. But it wasn’t too bad. I always forget how easy it is to hike uphill when not at altitude.

Just beyond this gate the climbing began. As I passed through, I noticed a very steep, very wet, and very shooting-gallery looking gully up to my left. “I wouldn’t want to climb up that thing,” I thought to myself.

A few hundred feet and a dozen or so switch backs later and you guessed it, the trail headed directly up the gully. Nice.

But I will say, that trail is a marvel. Near vertical tropical cliffs were on either side, but the route masterfully cut its way up and over the valley walls.

And on a pretty good surface too.

As I finally made my way out the steep gully, the parking lot came into view a mile away. and wouldn’t  you know it, Maui was ready for one last row, picking up the waterworks a final time. But at this point it didn’t matter. Just a few minutes later I was at the exit lot, completing the run in 2:45. This was much, much faster than I had anticipated, and I was very pleased with it overall, all things considered.

The only problem was that I was about an HOUR earlier than I told Katie I would be, so I was resigned to sit under an info sign and stretch the whole time. But no matter, it gave me a chance to sit and reflect on what turned out to be quite a wild outing.

Selfie for the road!

Bonus – Lahaina Point Trail

I’m well aware that I complained a lot about the weather in this report. So, here are a few shots from another trail run I did on our final day in Maui. The Lahaina Point Trail in a 5.5 mile trail that climbs up 1,200 feet of a shoulder over the ocean. The weather was sublime that day, as were the views.

Thanks for reading if you did. Until next time, happy climbing!