Kalalau trail - Kauai

The highlight of our 18 days in Hawaii was the Kalalau Trail – a 22 mile (round trip) hike along the Na Pali coast on Kauai’s northwest side. This trail is one of the most well-known hikes in Kauai, in part for the beautiful views as well as for being frighteningly narrow while traversing sheer cliffs several hundred feet above the thunderous ocean. Fortunately for us the trail turned out to be less sketchy than we expected from its reputation.

We slogged along the muddy trail for nearly 9 hours wandering in and out of lush valleys, across numerous streams, and stopping for lots of pictures of the almost artificially beautiful coastline views. Although exhausting, the reward at Kalalau beach was worth it – a shady wooded campsite squashed between the cliffs and the beach; a serene waterfall to clean off in and drink from; and a beautiful secluded beach with really massive waves (no swimming!). As night fell, we were awed by the sunset. When the forest creatures went to bed, we were left only with the sound of the waves which resonated against the cliffs behind us, lulling us to sleep.

 Our campsite at Kalalau beach.

We spent a day relaxing (and recovering from the rough 11 miles) watching the waves on the beach and frolicking in the waterfall, and watching an even more beautiful sunset. We reluctantly left Kalalau on day 3, but fortunately the trail was less muddy so it only took us 7.5 hours to reach the trailhead (and many tourists sunning themselves on the beach).

 Hanakapia'i beach

The most surreal part of the whole experience happened a few days later when we were visiting Waimea Canyon and came upon the Kalalau lookout point. Just a short walk from our rental car we were standing atop the nearly 5000ft tall cliffs that had towered over us while we lounged on the pleasantly remote Kalalau beach just days before. It was odd to look down upon the massive valley we had worked so hard to reach from this vantage point, especially since the lush foliage made it impossible to see the beach or campers in the area. None of the other tourists standing around us gazing into the valley even knew this wonderfully remote beach exists.

The trail finally descending to Kalalau beach.

Carissa on the final stretch to Kalalau beach.

Rich in front of our campsite on Kalalau beach.

Mortimer chasing sand crabs, again.

Rich at the waterfall.

Cloudy sunset from Kalalau beach.

Very tall (and pokey) plants abound on this trail.

Rich on the trail and being squished by the horizon.

20 miles down and still smiling

The view of Kalalau valley from above in Waimea Canyon.

In the middle of a waterfall in Waimea Canyon.

The Big Island

After a brief couple days in Seattle and Odessa relaxing and visiting Carissa’s families, we headed further west (and south) to Hawaii. It was a chilly 34 degrees out when we boarded our first of 3 planes en route to the Big Island of Hawaii – a mere 50 degrees cooler than it was when we landed in Hilo later that afternoon.

We spent a day bumming around Hilo eating very delicious spicy Thai food and relishing in the exotic fruits at the Hilo Farmer’s Market before heading up to the hill to Volcanoes National Park. Our first night camping we nearly drown – there was a tsunami watch in effect, but our problem was the tropical rain on our sand-box style camping pad.

After wringing ourselves out the next morning, we began our hike across the lava down 2,600 feet to the backcountry beach Halape (holla – pay).

 View of the beach far below us about midway through the hike.

Though this hike and the humidity kicked our butts a bit, the landscape we walked through was awesome – from barren pa’hoehoe (smooth) and a’a (sharp) lava fields to steep pali (hillsides) covered in grasses and dappled with lava, flowers, and spindly trees. The gorgeous secluded beach at the end was more than ample reward.

Halape Beach.

 

Rich happily making breakfast at Halape beach.

Beautiful purple flowers on vines covered some of the beach.

Another rainy evening was followed by a beautiful sunny morning. After a swim and breakfast we reversed our track and headed back up the hill much more slowly than we had descended the day before.

Carissa dwarfed by a tree fern at Volcanoes National Park.

 That afternoon we left the park and headed to Kona on the west (allegedly dry) side of the island for some Ironman World Championship Triathlon spectating and more easily accessible beach bumming.

Sea Turtle

I'm on a boat

To get you in the mood for this post, you should watch this hilarious video if you're not familiar with it. PARENTAL ADVISORY: explicit language.
We made several stops on our way driving up to Alaska from Wisconsin (see previous posts) so had somewhat lost track of exactly how far we’d travelled. Spending 66 hours on 4 different ferries and a total of 5 full days getting from Haines, Alaska to Seattle, Washington reminded us just how far away America’s Last Frontier is from the lower 48.

That said, we had an awesome time on the ferries and saw many sights – including humpback whales, the proposed site of the infamous ‘bridge to nowhere,’ and more glaciers and fjords than you can shake a stick at (Rich loves this phrase).

Our favorite ferry was M/V Matanuska on which we spent 46 hours traveling from Juneau, AK to Prince Rupert, BC. Being hard-core (and stingy) as we are, we elected not to pay for a cabin and sleep on the top deck of the boat instead. Conditions on the upper deck have come a long way since ferry travelers from yesteryear snuggled up on the ground next to the bathrooms: we found ourselves a cozy spot on lawn chairs under the yellow glass and heat lamps of the Solarium.

 The Solarium (with Carissa on her chair at the back left).

 Carissa in her chair in our cozy Solarium.

From the comfort of our chairs we had a 180 degree view off the back of the boat (also used as a helicopter landing pad) at the sights going by. Normally this view was of the ocean, lighthouses, fjords, glaciers, and other natural wonders. But on one occasion was the Wrangell, AK high school girls’ volleyball team’s afternoon workout - that is, until one of the ship’s watchmen put an end to the fun after people eating in the cafeteria on the deck below complained about the thunderous pounding noises of squat-jumps. It turns out that if you live in southeast Alaska your nearest competitors may be a 1.5 day ferry ride away in cities which are often inaccessible by roads.

 View from our chairs in the Solarium.

Rich at the end of the heli pad deck.

The ferry from Prince Rupert to Port Hardy, BC was much fancier but did take us through waters where we saw a pod of humpback whales splashing about. Our final ferry from Victoria, BC to Anacortes, WA was uneventful and thus led Tommy, a 5 year old English boy sitting near us, to declare to his mom as we arrived in Washington “Mummy, I’m really sad we haven’t seen any Orcas” before he burst into tears.

Mortimer about to board the WA State Ferry "Chelan" in Victoria, BC.

Huck Hobbit's Homestead

One of the many decisions when traveling is whether to bring a guidebook, and if so, which one to select. After several weeks on the road in Alaska, we had decided that our guidebook was totally useless – it had precious little information about most places we ended up visiting (listing only 1 restaurant or expensive hotel in some larger towns) and the amount of incorrect information was disappointing.

However, our guidebook did lead us to Huck Hobbit’s Homestead, hostel, and campground - one of the favorite places we visited. Steve and Joy Hobbes moved to just outside of Slana, Alaska (near Wrangell St-Elias National Park) from Nebraska in 1985 to fulfill Steve’s dream of living-off-the-land during one of the last waves of homesteading in Alaska. Over time they acquired 87 acres of gorgeous property on which they have built a beautiful home as well as cozy cabins for weary travelers, complete with wood stoves and bunk beds. They support themselves by hosting guests, running canoe float trips on the nearby Slana River, and selling the pelts of animals and hats made of pelts that Steve traps on their property.

We had an amazing time here – sleeping like logs in the wood-stove heated rustic log cabin, taking a lazy canoe float down the river, and enjoying the beautiful mountain views, eating Joy’s delicious cooking, and learning from Steve and Joy about their experiences as homesteaders. They were just such genuinely nice, friendly, and fascinating people to spend time with.

 As an extra bonus, a group of 6 law enforcement rangers from different corners of Wrangell St-Elias National Park were on an end-of-season business retreat at Huck Hobbit’s, so we got to enjoy a lively dinner and breakfast with these folks. They had us laughing until it hurt with stories of ‘crazy Alaskans’ they had encountered working and living in remote communities. Our personal favorite was about a German man who lives across the street from the park ranger station. He wears short jean shorts from April 1st – October 1st regardless of the weather (it was 22 one morning when we were there in mid September so we can only imagine how cold April 1st is!). Apparently this man likes to use his chainsaw, and also likes to drink gin, and sometimes does both. So this older woman ranger, Thelma, who is simultaneously hard-core and perfectly put together, tells us that one day she’s in the office and they hear a chainsaw cutting something – 2 normal cuts, and a third that stops suddenly with a thud. Thelma says they were all thinking “what did he do now?” and sure enough within a few seconds, Thelma’s phone was ringing – it was the German man asking if she had any duct tape. Instead, he ended up with 48 stitches in his thigh (just a few inches from his femoral artery). Apparently this is the price you pay for wearing Daisy Dukes in Alaska.