Climbing Haleakala

Dietrich and I got our start at 2:30 am wolfing down a couple of sausage biscuits and putting together our day-packs for climbing Haleakala. The trail to the summit was on the other side of the island, so we were winding down highway 31 toward Kapuo by 3:30 am. Thus began our crazy mountain climbing adventure.

For the past month I had been anticipating and dreading this day. My brother had his mind set to climb Haleakala on our Maui vacation, and after doing some research I realized this was going to be a serious undertaking. At 10,023 ft, Haleakala is not the tallest mountain. However, most mountain trails start at significant elevation; here we would start from about sea level. Haleakala is one of only two mountains where it is conceivable to climb 10,000 ft bottom to top in a single day (the other being the “cactus to clouds” trail on Mt. San Jacinto, which is a serious climb).

A mountaineering novice like me tackling such a serious mountain gave me pause. Nonetheless, I convinced myself it was possible and began buying boots and equipment and conditioning for the hike. The preparation was as much mental as physical: I broke in my boots on hot mid-day hikes; conditions I expected going up through Haleakala. Based on the national park suggestions (for going down) and accounts of the cactus to clouds trail, we estimated we would need at least 6 liters of water to avoid sunstroke on the path to the summit. There was no potable water on the entire trail, but I discovered that there was usually some gutter water at a campsite half-way up that could be treated with iodine tablets.

So I thought we were well prepared on the morning of the hike, but we hadn’t anticipated that it would be difficult to find the trailhead in the dark. After a half hour of driving through Kapou (a tiny seaside village) on dirt roads, we identified a jeep road that signified the direction of the trail. Dietrich and I grabbed our gear, snapped a few pictures, and started up the mountain at the crack of dawn, about 6am. We promptly lost the trail again in the early morning light, and spent a half hour hiking up and down searching for trail signs… an inauspicious start.

The first section of the mountain trail was through an exceptionally steep cattle ranch. Dietrich, a 5 time marathoner, kept up a brisk pace and I huffed and puffed to keep up. There were a lot of sights to take in on the first section: views of the ocean against green hills and clouds (think Ireland), cows and baby boars, and lots of cow piles. The private owners of the ranch didn’t keep of the trail very well, so we got lost a couple more times. About once an hour, we took a 5-10 minute break to rehydrate and destroy some snickers bars or other hiking treat. A few hours in, we passed the gate that marked the beginning of the national park.

Immediately past the gate, it became apparent that the cows served to keep the grass in check. It looked like the trail was very seldom used… it was barely visible through the knee high grass. At this point I was feeling confident that we would make it: I was keeping up with Dietrich and shade from trees as well as our increasing altitude kept the effects of the heat and humidity down. Also, our 20-30 lb packs got lighter as we drank water to replace our sweat, which was dripping off of our clothes. However, as we climbed ridge after ridge, the midpoint camp failed to materialize. The trail became too narrow and rocky to use hiking poles, and it was unforgivably steep… I became thankful that my boots were well broken in. Finally, after 7 miles and 6000 ft of climbing we spied the midpoint camp at Paliku.

Paliku was an absolutely gorgeous sight. Tall green peaks surrounded the campground shrouded in mist. Lush trees and grass and flowers covered the landscape, framing a view of the ocean and clouds at the base from afar. A gentle rain and refreshing rain began falling which was a welcome break to the sweaty hikers. There were a few cabins at the campsite that had reservoirs filled with collected rainwater labeled in large red letters: “Non potable water. Do not drink”. We had almost completely exhausted our water supply on the way up, so we refilled our bottles and plopped in a few iodine tablets to make it safe to drink. After we got out of the rain for a bit, we ate a decent amount of our food stores and rested for the last 10 miles of the trail.

As we left Paliku, we entered a much flatter hikes (called the “sliding sands” trail) which goes through the 10 mile diameter crater at the top of Haleakala. The rim of the crater towered over us on all sides except for the gap through which we had climbed through. The terrain quickly became more barren as we entered the crater, transitioning into scrub brush growing through cracks into the crumbly lava rock. Unfortunately, the climb had taken its toll on my left hip, and I was starting to struggle on the steeper, rockier sections of the trail. The sparse vegetation also left us exposed to the mid-day sun and wind… we were careful to re-apply sunblock along the trail.

Five miles from the summit, the last of the plant life began to disappear, leaving a stark desert filled with fine sand. Volcanic cinder cones rose from the red lava sands, some sporting past outflows of black lava rock. It was quite a spectacular alien landscape, and we stopped often to take pictures or rest from exertion at high altitude. Finally, the summit came into view past false peaks that lined the rim of the crater. The peak towered 3000 ft over us… it looked like a mountain in its own right.

The final climb was steep and difficult, but slogging through the sand was a great deal more comfortable than scrambling over rocks. Our backpacks were also significantly lighter than the ones we started with, the trip having consumed most of our water and food. The setting sun put an interesting contrast on the crater below us, and the temperature plummeted. As any mountaineer will tell you, the summit plays tricks on you… hour after hour it always seemed as if we hadn’t made any progress. Finally we saw the sign that marked the end of the trail and with a burst of energy we reached the visitor center on a ridge near the top.

It was just a short hike on the road up the last 300 ft climb to the summit. We were so spent from the climb that this was not a small errand, and it took a bit of a rest to hobble up the rest of the way. We plopped down at the top at 7pm, 13 hours after we started and just in time to watch the sunset (which was superb). Mom, dad, and Sara hadn’t expected us to make the top so early, and were a couple hours away. Dietrich is used to endurance events, but I was in pretty rough shape. Hiking through sand had put blisters on my feet, and I was shivering from exhaustion and the cold weather at the top. I wrapped myself in the silvery space blanket I had packed for such an event, which is how my family found us at the top of Haleakala.

The climb was probably the most grueling thing I’ve ever done physically. Because there was no easy way to back out of it, climbing Heleakela forced me to push far past the point where I would normally check out. In that way, the hike and the preparation was very rewarding. I also have never seen anything like the views we saw in the crater of Haleakala. I am glad we did it.