Recently, I had scheduled a weeks vacation, without any real plans for what to do. I had mentioned to a co-worker that I was thinking about flying to a neighbor island and doing some hiking. “You should go to Kaua’i and hike the Kalalau Trail.” was his response. He had been raised on the island of Kaua’i and told me that this was considered one of the top 5 best and hardest hikes in the world (although I’m not sure by who.) As we talked about it, I began to think that I might like to try it. Hike in and out in one day, back sleeping in the hotel bed that night. “No way, can’t be done in one day.” was his response. “11 miles in to the beach, you HAVE to camp overnight once you get there, the trail is dangerous, don’t do it alone, people die on that trail, etc.” It was almost like he was trying to talk me out of it now.

I did a little research, and found not one, but TWO accounts from people who did the hike in one day, and put their experience online. You can read them here and here.

So, now I knew it could be done, but as far as i know, it had never been done alone*. I hadn’t come up with any better ideas, so Kalalau it is then.

Several of my friends tried to discourage me, especially from trying it alone. The problem was, that I had the vacation days coming, and no one that I knew that would be willing to do the hike was going to be off at the same time. Not being one to sit out a good adventure just because I would have to go it alone, I booked my flight.

So, back to the hotel to do a last check of gear, then get some rest.

I traveled very light. In case you are interested, here is what I hiked with:

Camelback M.U.L.E. backpack with 3 liter bladder, 1 quart ziplock of GORP (dried fruit & salted nuts) 2 Cliff Bars, 1 Rice Crispy, 1 flashlight with extra batteries, hiking pole, Gerber Multitool, lighter, 8 band-aids, 2 oz bottle of Bactine, 1 emergency blanket, 1 rain poncho (red, incase I needed to signal a helicopter), 1 bottle of sunblock / bug repellent, pedometer, heart-rate monitor watch, 2 knee braces (I injured my knees in an adventure race a few years ago) mini tripod, extra socks in a ziplock bag to keep them dry, and Iodine tablets to make the stream water safe to drink (leptospirosis is in all of the water).

I set my alarm for 4:45 am and went to sleep.

In the morning, I ate an orange, showered, and loaded what gear I was taking into the car. Before starting the car, I texted a few friends and let them know I was off. We had a deal that if they didn’t hear from me by sundown, they would call 911 and send out the search and rescue teams. Since their is no cell phone service along the trail, I would have no way of communicating with anyone once on the trail.

By 5:30 I was on my way.

It was still dark when I arrived at the trail head, and I saw hunters with headlights on starting up the trail. I decided to wait until the sun was up before I started in so as not to be mistaken for a goat.  I sat in the car and ate my Rice Crispy treat while I watched the sun rise.

By 7:00 the sun had risen enough that I felt comfortable starting out.

So begins one of the most trying journeys of my life.

As I continued on, I passed several hikers on their way out. A few looked at me like I was crazy when I told them I was going in and out in one day. Pffft. Whatever. I felt great.

Mile 10 is the first time I was  starting to feel tired. As I looked on toward the beach, the last mile is a downward slope totally exposed to the sun. I knew that I should probably turn back because climbing back up this slope was going to be hard, but I didn’t come this far to turn around at the last mile. So I didn’t.

I had already eaten one of my Cliff bars along the way and decided to save the last one for the trip back. So I ate about half the GORP that I packed and finished off the last of my 3 liters of water. Before starting back off, I refilled my Camelback at the stream and dropped 7 Iodine tablets into it (I hope that was enough).

As I started back up that exposed slope at 12:00 noon, I hit a brick wall. Instantly it felt like the temperature had gone up 15 degrees and the humidity was choking. My heart rate, which had stayed around 168 the entire way there, was now pegging 198 and not going down. For the first time, I wasn’t sure that I was going to make it back before sundown.

I had no choice but to keep moving, stopping about every 100 yards to rest. I was constantly looking at my watch, gauging the time until sundown, which was going to be at 6:33.

Two hours back on the trail, i passed two campers on their way out to the beach. I asked them how far until Hanakoa Valley, which is where the trail would start to be less exposed to the sun. About 2 Miles, at least. Not good.

My knees were really starting to hurt now, and my calf muscles felt like they were about to cramp. I decided to eat my last cliff bar, hoping that would make me feel a little more energetic. I dropped it. Great. There are signs all over the place that say Leptospirosis is in the water AND the mud. What could I do. I rinsed it off with my water treated with Iodine and ate it anyway.

When I finally made it to the 6 mile mark, where there is an outhouse and a covered picnic table, I decided to stop for a nap. I stretched out on the picnic bench and tried to get some shut-eye. No luck. Too hot, Too humid, and my heart rate was way too high to sleep. Some nice campers who were there before left an un-opened can of chili, and an un-opened can of vienna sausages. I don’t even like Vienna Sausages, but I was hungry, so I ate them.

I had been there a total of 20 minutes, when I decided it was time to get back on the trail. I was finally back in the valley, sheltered from the sun. I got my second wind and started moving again. That didn’t last long.

By now my hopes of getting back before sundown were starting to fade. Exhaustion was setting in, and I was making mistakes. I lost the trail a couple of times in the valleys because I wasn’t paying attention, and each time I was overcome with a genuine feeling of despair. I had brought a flashlight, just in case, but I wasn’t excited about the prospect of hiking in the dark, but at least it was going to be a full moon tonight.

I set a new goal of making it to Hanakapaia before sundown. That is the last big stream / river that you have to boulder jump across, and as long as I make it across that before dark, I could do the last 2 miles with the flashlight, or so I thought.

I passed the hunters from the morning resting at about mile 4. They laughed and shook their heads in disbelief when I told them I had been all the way to the beach. I felt encouraged when they said I should be able to make it back to the river by nightfall.

I got my third wind and kept moving feeling like I was almost home. That feeling was crushed pretty quickly. What I didn’t realize, was that between me and the river was the highest point of the hike. Remember that feeling of despair I was talking about? I do.

Somewhere around here is where my subconscious began rationalizing not going on. I could stop for the night and continue on in the morning. After all, I had an emergency blanket, a lighter to start a campfire if I got too cold, and the bladder from my camelback would make a nice pillow. Then I remembered the deal with my friends. If they don’t hear from me by nightfall, they’re calling 911. I’m a proud man. I don’t get “rescued”. I pushed on.

To my amazement, I made it back to the river at 5:20. 1 hour and 13 minutes before sundown. Figuring that I can manage the last 2 miles in an hour, that gives me 13 minutes to lie down on a nice cold rock and rest.

I crossed the river at  5:30 excited about the last 2 miles that were so easy yesterday. Not so easy today. My knees and calves were in intense pain, and now, just for good measure, I was starting to chafe on my thighs and dangly bits. Thanks God. I hadn’t considered Ball chafing as a possible concern, my mistake.

At 6:00 I passed a couple who had hiked in just to watch the sunset. Whatever, I just want off this mountain. I asked them how far to the trail head. 25 more minutes.

They were right. At 6:25, I made it out.

I got in the car, turned the AC on full and started driving. I was on the road 15 minutes before I had any cell phone signal, but as soon as I did, I texted my friends to let them know I was ok.

If you are thinking about doing this hike in a day, there are people who will tell you it can’t be done. I did it, and I did it alone. Now ask me if I would ever do it again. (Maybe.)

* I was recently informed that I am not the first to do it as a day hike alone. Bob Burd, visit his site here, did the Kalalau in one day alone as well and his account makes it seem like a walk in the park. I don’t feel so bad tho. Andy Kass of Great-Hikes.com (the person who let me know about Bob’s hike) described Bob Burd as “a hiking machine and somewhat of a legend in California. If you browse his links, you'll see he hiked Kalalau the day after hiking the Blue Hole, 2 days after summiting Haupu which I'd never heard of anyone doing, and 2 days before almost summiting Kawaikini, the island highpoint with no trail through the swamp. He came back the next year and summited the highpoint as a day hike, a feat I consider twice as hard as Kalalau, because there is no trail.”

He was/is definitely more prepared, both physically and mentally, for this kind of hike. Bob, if you’re reading, if you ever visit Honolulu and feel like taking a newbie along with you on a hike, let me know. I’m down.

Here is a small movie of the trail super-imposed on Google Earth.

Credit for the GPS mapping of the trail goes to Andy Kass at Great-Hikes.com

If you have Google Earth, you can download the trail info from his website here.

You can check out my full gallery of pics from the hike below, or click here to open it in a new window.