Day 6: Kono Crater Trail & Kona Brewing Company

Koko Head Crater (image courtesy of www.everytrail.com)

The last few days have been so busy that I haven't been doing as much hiking as I would like. That being said, I wouldn't call today's activity a hike so much as a brutal test in how long you can keep climbing for before your heart feels like it's going to explode. It is less like a hike and more like an intense Stair Master that you can't hit the "stop" button on. I guess just enough time had passed since the last time I did this hike for me to forget how painful it was, because I foolishly agreed to do it again.

At the very bottom looking up. It doesn't look so bad, right?

Koko Head Crater is one of three on the Island. In terms of height it is the second highest; in terms of strenuousness, it takes the lead. The peak of Koko Crater, Kohelepelepe (or Puʻu Mai), rises to an alarming 1208 ft (368 m). How you get to the peak varies by person, I personally employed a mixture of scrambling hands over feet and pushing on my knees in an attempt to buoy my body up just another few steps.

I stop to take a break (250 steps up) and disguise it as a picture break.

The 1050 railroad ties from the bottom to the top are packed with iron-rich red dirt that stains anything it touches. The path is loosely called a stairway, due to the grooves that many determined feet have work in the areas between the beams, but the similarities end there. The ties are not spaced evenly apart and most require and awkward 1.5-2 steps each for the average person's stride. Some are disintegrating, others pass over open air. The ground below this portion of the trail is littered with dropped possessions.

People from all walks of life attempt this trail. On this particular visit I saw military men, hikers with dogs (Go Pros in tow), mothers with children strapped to their backs, teenagers, grandparents, and tourists like myself. Regardless of age or physical ability we were all covered in thick sheens of sweat. There was a sort of comraderie between hikers, regardless of age or language. If you were on your way up, you wished those on the way down good luck, and if you were on your way down, you encouraged those still laboring up the crater to keep going.

Another break. About halfway up.

Alicia summed this experience up perfectly when, about halfway up the trail, she asked through labored breaths, "Why are we doing this again?" I gave a weak laugh and struggled up another few steps. At that point we were too high up to turn around. I am pretty sure that I sweated off all of my sunscreen before I even hit the half-way mark. What replaced it was dirt, thick and clay-colored, which I acquired as I scrambled up steep inclines or stepped off the trail to let someone pass down.

The view from the top was beautiful, the breeze was even better. As it was a clear day we could see all three Islands and the other side of Koko crater.I hung out up here just long enough to catch my breath, and take int he view for a little while. Jesse found a small prayer box at the top, stuffed full of wishes and thoughts of those who had hiked before us.
 

In some ways, going down was worse than coming up. As these were not really "stairs" and were not spaced evenly apart, my choices were to put both feet on each, toddler style, for 1050 stairs, or to take giant strides in order to put each foot down once, and risk building up speed. Both choices were hard on the knees.

In a terrifying moment, the Japanese woman behind me slipped and slid into her husband, who tumbled just past me, knocking a leg out from under me. Thankfully, I did not go far, nor did they. I let them pass me by a good dozen steps after that, keeping my distance. The incident had been a good reminder that other hikers pose potential threats to my safety.

We drove around for a while after the hike, looking for ocean to wash our bodies in, then proceeded to the Kona Brewing Company, where we celebrated our amazing feat of physical strength (and now-wobbly legs) with some liquid aloha and delicious fare.