There is some confusion in the name of these trails.  The State of Hawaii’s Na Ala Hele Program calls the 3.5 mile dirt road leading to the end of the Moanalua Valley the “Kamananui Valley Road”, and the 2 mile trail that veers off the dirt road, crosses the stream multiple times, and climbs to the Koʻolau Summit Ridge the “Kulanaahane Trail”.

Click on map to enlarge

HTMC on the other hand — which has been doing both hikes for decades prior to their adoption by Na Ala Hele — calls the combination of these hikes “Kamananui”.  Since the same name refers to different hikes clarification is always needed.  I think HTMC should adopt the State’s naming convention to end the confusion.  At any rate, I joined HTMC to clear the way to the Koʻolau Summit Ridge on the Moanalua Saddle that overlooks Haiku Valley on the windward side of the island.

August, Danielle, and I pushed-off from Moanalua Valley Neighborhood Park at the end of Ala Aolani Street to make our way up the valley.  August and Danielle were planning to hike up the Middle Ridge rather than to do Kulanaahane trail clearing so I would only do the road portion of the hike with them.

One of the first things we noticed were a whole new set of signs along the side of the road that were fascinating to read.  The signs were informative and nicely written — they told us that Kamananui is the name the Hawaiians gave to this valley in the ahupuaʻa of Moanalua.  Other well written signs were devoted to plants, birds, petroglyphs, legends, and other aspects of the valley.

Click on photo to enlarge

We were pleased to see water in the stream due to the heavy rain received in March.  It has been an unusually dry winter and the stream was reduced to series of stagnant pools.  As we crossed the 7 bridges we were thrilled to hike over water.

We were surprised to come across 2 freshly gouged holes in the road caused by the rain storms in March.  There must have been a raging torrent on the road to make these holes.

When we reached the start of the Kulanaahane Trail, I bid farewell to August and Danielle, and made my way up the trail to join the trail clearers.

The first person I ran into was Kenji Suzuki who was busy weed whacking the beginning of the Kulanaahane Trail where hau trees grow.

Hau trees (Hibiscus tiliaceous) are indigenous and create an impenetrable thicket if their branches are not cut back regularly.  A good deal of the crew’s effort was spent cutting back the branches to keep the trail open.

The cool thing about hau flowers — which look like hibiscus except that the petals do not open up all the way — is that they start-off yellow in color and turn red over the course of several days.

The next person I caught up to was Gordon Muschek who was taking a water break from weed whacking the palm grass and other plants that infringed the trail.

When I reached the next stream crossing, I came across Thea Ferentinos under a hapuʻu fern (Cibotium chamissoi) who was busying lopping the many strawberry guava and hau branches that blocked the way.

When we reached an ʻōhiʻa tree (Metrosideros polymorpha) with aerial roots, I had to stop to photograph and admire the odd sight.

Some sections of the trail did not require any work at all — but that was more the exception than the rule.

One of the cool endemic plants I stumbled on was a miniature form of ʻalaʻalawainui (Peperomia tetraphylla) growing on a lama tree that was smaller than the fingernail on my index finger.

While making my way up the trail, I stumbled on Kris Corliss and her dog Rusty who were lopping-off guava and other branches that blocked the trail.

One of the more eye-catching sights on the trail were introduced Chinese ground orchids which put up spikes of flowers several feet off the ground.

Water flowed from one pool to the next — which was quite different from the last time I was here in January.

When we reached the final steep climb up to the summit, I spent considerable effort cutting back the uluhe ferns that encroached the trail.

We could see a prominent dry waterfall chute as we hacked at the uluhe on our way up to the summit.

One of the sights that caught my eye were an array of colorful liko lehua — the young leaves of ʻōhiʻa.

We continued cutting back the ferns as we passed a charming ʻolapa tree (Cheirodendron  trigynum) near the top.

When we reached the Koʻolau Summit Ridge we were treated to spectacular views on the other side of the island!  We admired the graceful curve of H-3 in Haiku Valley below, the blue waters of Kāneʻohe on the coast, and Mokapu Peninsula off in the distance.

Click on photo to enlarge

We soaked in the views from the Moanalua Saddle, ate our lunches, and enjoyed each others company for quite some time before turning around to return the way we had come.

While descending the summit to return where we started I reflected on the great time we had seeing water flow restored to the stream, spectacular views from the summit, and cool native plants along the way.  What a great hike!

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SOURCES

06/02/09 – Celebrate national Trails Day Grand Opening at Kamananui Valley and Kulanaahane Trail, Na Ala Hele Trails, Department of Land and Natural Resources, State of Hawaii

Grand opening set for 2 Oahu hiking trails, Honolulu Advertiser

Hibiscus tiliaceus, Wikipedia

Kamananui and Kulanaahane Trails, Na Ala Hele Trails, Department of Land and Natural Resources, State of Hawaii

Native Hawaiian Plants, University of Hawaii, Department of Botany

Plants of Hawaii, Hawaiian Ecosystems at Risk

Kīholo Bay spans several miles of coast between North Kona and South Kohala. Most of the bay is surrounded by private property but there two public access routes.  People can hike for about a mile-and-a-half from Queen Kaʻahumanu Highway (Highway 19) from either mile marker 81 or midway between mile markers 82 and 83.

Pete and Bill were my hiking buddies for the day and we pushed-off from mile marker 81 down a series of dirt roads.  It was a beautiful morning with vog and clouds covering the mauka parts of the island.  We were pleased to be heading makai where the sun was shining.

When we reached the public access, we veered-off to make our way through kiawe trees.

We emerged on a gray sand beach — mix of white and black sand — close to the “Bali House” which has architectural details in the Balinese style.

Click on photo to enlarge

The large expanse of Kilolo Bay is impressive and extends for miles in either direction. Our plan was to see the honu at Wainanaliʻi lagoon so we turned to the right and made our way down the coast.

Wainanaliʻi is just a small part of much larger Kīholo Bay and are where Hawaiian green sea turtles congregate.

While making our way over to Wainanaliʻi we passed freshwater ponds part of the Paul Mitchell Estate that was recently donated to The Nature Conservnacy.  The spring-fed pools — once used as fishponds — are now habitat for native species such as hapawai (mollusk), ʻopae (shrimp), and oʻopu (gobies). The freshwater ponds around its edge and springs in the bay reduce the salinity of the water.

We saw a couple of ʻaukuʻu or black crowned night herons (Nycticorax nycticorax hoactli)  in the ocean standing on rocks looking for prey.

Wainanaliʻi was also once a fishpond.  When a lava flow threatened to destroy the fishponds at Kīholo Bay, King Kamehameha appealed to the fire goddess Pele by throwing a lock of his hair into the molten lava and the flow miraculously stopped.  But decades later in 1859, when Kamehameha was no longer living, Mauna Loa erupted and covered a good deal of the fishponds with lava.

When we got close to edge we could see schools of aholehole swimming on the surface.

Wainanaliʻi is formed by a long peninsula and small island that block the lagoon off from the ocean.  In the time of Kamehemeha, the stone walls were said to be 6 feet high, two miles in circumference, and the water was deep enough to raise ahi (yellowfin tuna) and aku (skipjack tuna).

We saw many honu or Hawaiian green sea turtles (chelonia mydas) swimming in the calm waters of the lagoon.  Hawaiian green sea turtles are unique in that they crawl onto shore to bask in the sun.  Sun bathing is rare among sea turtles and have been observed in only a few populations in the Pacific.

Green sea turtles are listed as endangered by the International Union for the Conservation of Nature, and in 1978, the Hawaiian population of the green turtle was listed as threatened under the U.S. Endangered Species Act of 1973.

Green sea turtles  (chelonia mydas) live throughout tropical and subtropical oceans worldwide. There are two major subpopulations, the Atlantic and Pacific subpopulations. Each population is genetically distinct, and have different nesting sites.

Sea turtles spend most of their lives submerged underwater, but must come to the surface to breathe air.

Click on photo to enlarge

We saw a number of honu while hiking around the edge of Wainanalii.  See how many turtlles you can spot in this panoramic shot.

The turtles were drawn to this one particular spot on the spit of land the separates Wainanaliʻi from the ocean.  I have been here several times over the years and they are always at this spot.

Hawaiian sea turtles are known to swim in deep water for long distances — often between islands.  So when they crawl out out of the water to bask in the sun, they need to rest and recover.

The honu were calm and not the least bit alarmed when I approached to take this close-up shot.

Time past quickly as we hiked around the circumference of Wainanaliʻi to see the turtles and soon it was time to leave.  As we hiked back out the way we had come to the highway, I reflected on the beauty of Kiholo Bay and the magnificent wildlife that make it their home.  What a great place to visit!

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SOURCES:

Angus Mitchell Donates Multi-Million Hawai’i Property to The Nature Conservancy, The Nature Conservancy

Fishponds versus lava flows, Hawaii Volcano Observatoru, USGS

Green Sea Turtle, Wikipedia

The Hawaiian Green Turtle (Chelonia mydas), Turtle.Org

It was a cold and misty morning when Pete Morton and I embarked on the 7-mile Napau Crater Trail starting from Mauna Ulu on the Chain of Craters Road.   The trail starts at about 3,200 feet elevation.  There are no big climbs — just a few inclines along the way.  Only 600 feet is gained and then lost over the over the 14-mile round trip.  But countless lava mounds and depressions in the rugged terrain can be hard on the feet.

We started the hike with jackets to protect ourselves from the cold, wind, and light misty drizzle.

Precipitation from passing clouds covered this liko lehua — the young leaves of ʻōhiʻa — with droplets of water.

We saw a number of pukiawe (Styphelia tameiameia) with tiny red berries as we made our way up the trail.

But what interested us more were the juicy yellow, orange, and red ʻohelo berries (Vaccinium reticulatum).  I marvelled how these tiny little shrubs could produce so many tasty berries.

We veered-off the trail briefly to see two tree molds — lava casts of big ʻōhiʻa lehua (Metrosideros polymorpha) trees — some of them with charcoal inside — incinerated during the Mauna Ulu eruption of 1969-1974.

We saw a number of red lehua flowers which caught dew drops from the mist.

When we got to a high point — Puʻu Huluhulu  — we looked in the direction we came from — towards Kilauea Caldera — and saw the plume of volcanic gases being emitted from Halemaʻumaʻu Crater.

While hiking on a lava field between Puʻu Huluhulu and Makaopuhi Crater we could feel the heat coming from steam vents beneath us.  Moisture from the rain seeps into the ground and returns to the surface as steam and water vapor.

Making our way over pahoeohoe lava flows, we made our way from one ahu to another, until we reached Makaopuhi Crater.

Makaopuhi Crater is surprisingly big.  The fascinating thing about Makaopuhi is that much older forests upwind from the eruption on the edge of the crater survived and are still intact.

The landscape transformed in a native forest of big ʻōhiʻa trees (Metrosideros polymorpha) and hapuʻu ferns (Cibotium glauca).

Equally pervasive were uluhe ferns (Dicranopteris linearis) which crawled up the trees and spread over the landscape.

We then entered a younger landscape that was still dominated by ʻōhiʻa, uluhe ferns, and ʻuki grass but the trees were much smaller.

Some of the more rocky areas harbored some of the most eye-catching liko lehua.

We were pleased to see more ʻohelo berries as we approached the crater edge.

The trail was wide open for almost the entire way.  But there was an annoying uluhe tunnel we had to duck under for about 50 feet to get to the lookout at Napau Crater.

We were pleased to reach our goal — the rim of Napau Crater with Puʻu Oʻo Crater smoldering in the background. Although things appeared peaceful and calm, this area is geologically active and inherently unstable. Just one year ago on March 6, 2011, there was an erruption at Napau Crater. The floor of Puʻu Oʻo crater collapsed, the lava lake disappeared, and a new fissure eruption opened up in Napau Crater!

Click on photo to enlarge

But the new fissure eruption — visible in the foreground above — did not last long at Napau.  17 days later, the lava lake returned to Puʻu Oʻo Crater and the eruption stopped at Napau.  I zoomed in on the horizon and saw volcanic gases being emitted from Puʻu Oʻo. We enjoyed the lookout for quite some time, ate lunch, and relaxed before pushing off to return the way we had come.

While making our 7-mile return trip to Mauna Ulu, we could see the volcanic plume of Halemaʻumaʻu far off in the distance. We could feel the heat and steam radiating from under the ground and marveled at how the land was literally being formed under our very own feet.  What an awesome place to visit!

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SOURCES:

Napau, National Park Service

Napau Crater Trail, Hawaii Volcanoes National Park

Native Hawaiian Plants, University of Hawaii, Department of Botany

Plants of Hawaii, Hawaiian Ecosystems at Risk

The “Pu`u `O`o” eruption of Kilauea’s East Rift Zone

When I told my hiking buddy — Pete Morton — about the red-tailed tropicbirds I saw nesting on Oʻahu, he said he knew where white-tailed tropicbirds nested on the Big Island!  So we wasted little time and drove to the Kaʻu Desert Trail located halfway between mile markers 40 and 41 on Highway 11 to look for the birds.

The Kaʻu Desert lies in the rain shadow of Kīlauʻea and receives about 40 inches of rain per year — which is dry — but not arid enough to be a true desert which gets under 10 inches per year.  But the volcanic gases from Halemaʻumaʻu creates acid rain, weathers the lava rock into sand, and makes the land resemble a desert. Because the noxious fumes can be life threatening, those who are at high risk — pregnant women, infants, young children, and anyone susceptible to respiratory or cardiac distress — are advised not to enter this area.

There was lots of volcanic sand on the first leg of our trek.  The 5.5 mile route to the Pit Craters — which makes for an 11 mile round trip — is marked by ahu or cairns (piles of stones) and by small rocks that line either side of the path.

When we reached the footprints pavilion we saw some incredibly twisted ʻōhiʻa trees.  ʻŌhiʻa are slow growing trees under the best of conditions let alone in dry, acidic, inhospitable landscapes which stunts their growth.

The pavilion shelters the imprints of human feet said to belong to the troops of Keoua — rival of Kamehemeha. Following a battle between Kamehameha and Keoua in Hilo in 1790, Keoua retreated to his home in Kaʻu by way of Kīlauʻea.  While passing Halemaʻumaʻu Crater, the volcano erupted with a huge, dense cloud of ash, rocks, sand and gases that rained down for miles around.  About 80 of Keoua’s troops died from the toxic gases.  The footprints are said to be those of Keoua’s fallen warriors.

After learning the fascinating story of the footprints, we pushed-off from in the pavilion and made our way further into the Kau Desert.

One of the ʻōhiʻa trees with the thickest trunks — possibly centuries old — was sprawled prostrate over the ground in bloom with bright red lehua flowers.

ʻŌhiʻa lehua trees produce clusters of red flowers with tiny petals and elongated pistils and stamens which make the flowers look like pompoms.

The summit of Mauna Loa loomed way off in the distance as we proceeded to Mauna Iki.  The landscape got more rocky the further into the desert we got.

The plume of volcanic gases from Halemaʻumaʻu blew our way briefly but fortunately did not last for long.

The rocks were amazing to see — the lava solidified while oozing over the landscape.

Strands of Pele’s hair collected in the rocks blown by the wind.  The “hair” is molten volcanic glass that was pulled and cooled by the wind into really thin strands.

When I picked up Pele’s hair from the ground they had the look and feel of human hair.

When we got to Mauna Iki, white-tailed tropicbirds flew in and circled overhead to check us out!  Koa‘e kea are pelagic seabirds indigenous to Hawaii and the Pacific and Indian Oceans.

When we got to the pair of pit craters I was surprised to see just how abruptly the edge drops-off.  I watched the volcanic plume of Halemaʻumaʻu blow in the background as I walked along the edge of the 150 foot diameter giant hole and peered into the 100 foot deep pit.

Click on photo to enlarge

Pit craters are formed when underground caverns of molten magma evacuate and the ground above the chamber collapses into the hole left behind.  When I looked into the hole I could see large lava tubes heading towards Mauna Iki which probably supplied the cone with molten magma from deep below.

Koa‘e kea nest in these cliffs.  The worldwide population of white-tailed tropicbirds (Phaethon lepturus)  is estimated at 200,000 breeding pairs. In Hawai‘i, the estimate is 1,800 breeding pairs with most of them in the main Hawaiian Islands.  This is different from red-tail tropicbirds whose numbers are much greater in the Northwest Hawaiian Islands.

We could see Koa‘e kea, some of them with yellow beaks and tail feathers fly in and out of the giant hole in the ground.  Koa‘e kea are about 36 inches long (including the tail) and have wingspans up to 40 inches wide — slightly smaller than red-tailed tropicbirds.

White-tailed tropicbirds are mostly white but have black streaks on their wings and by their eyes.  Their most distinctive feature is their long tail feathers that stream behind when they fly.

Koa‘e kea nest in the cliffs of Kilauea Caldera and in the craters along the Chain of Crater Road and throughout the national park.  These cliffs are inaccessible to land-based predators and are perfect for cliff-dwelling birds to nest.

Koa‘e kea are strong agile flyers and can fly high in the sky for great distances.  The fly for miles out to sea and hunt fast swimming fishes and squid by diving 10 feet under water to catch their prey.

During breeding season — March – June — aerial acrobatics are part of the courtship rituals.

Although I wanted to get a close-up look of them on the cliffs of the pit crater, the crater wall was too steep for me to descend and I never got to see any of them nesting.  The only ones I saw were flying in the air.

Since we still had the return leg of our hike, we could not remain at the pit craters for long.  After spending a half-an-hour so or we turned around to hike out the way we had come.

While returning to the trail head where we started, I reflected on the great time we had seeing age-old ohia trees crawling over the ground, cones and craters dotting the landscape, and the tropicbirds that nest in them!  What an awesome place to visit!

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SOURCES:

The Kaʻū Desert, Wikipedia

Koa‘e kea or White-tailed Tropicbird, Division of Forestry and Wildlife, Department of Land and Natural Resources, State of Hawaii

Keonehelelei – The Story of the Footprints Area, National Park Service, Hawaii Volcanoes National Park

Native Hawaiian Plants, University of Hawaii, Department of Botany

Red-Tailed and White-Tailed Tropicbirds (Koa‘e ‘Ula; Koa‘e Kea), Seabirds of the Hawaiian Islands, Hawaiian Encyclopedia

Pit Crater, Wikipedia

Plants of Hawaii, Hawaiian Ecosystems at Risk

White-tailed tropicbird, Koa’e kea, Phaethon lepturus, Birds of Hawaii, Hawaii Ecosystems at Risk

White-tailed tropicbirds, Wikipedia

When I saw Baron Yamamoto’s facebook photo of a red-tailed tropicbird on the rocky coast along the Ka Iwi Channel I had to see them with my own eyes.  So I consulted the Audubon and DOFAW websites and began looking in the rocky ledges and overhangs carved into the coastline from Koko Head to Makapuʻu.

The rocky coast is made from layer upon layer of volcanic tuff — formed when magma came into contact with sea water creating explosive eruptions of fine ash that settled onto the land and cemented into place.

Many small coves have been carved into the rock and I hiked in and out the coastline and climbed up and down multiple levels of ledges looking in countless little niches where birds can nest.

Many miniature caves have been carved into sea cliffs over the ocean and are inaccessible to land based predators — perfect places for birds to nest.

The hoʻolio — wet season — for 2011-2012 has been especially dry.  When I first embarked on my search on March 3, 2012, Koko Crater was dry and brown.  For all intents and purposes the wet season — which usually arrives around November — had not yet arrived on the Ka Iwi Coast.

 Click on photo to enlarge

Only after the big rains in March did the lanscape turn green.  This photo taken on April 7, 2012 shows the transformation.  I was pleased to see the green landscape and patches of hinahina (Heliotropium anomalum) with cute little clusters of sweet smelling white flowers.

The most common bird I saw was pigeons.  I saw over a hundred pigeons — many of them nesting in niches and ledges in the rocks.  I also saw a handful of boobies, about ten noddies, and two dozen red-tailed tropicbirds.

Koaʻe ʻula or red-tailed tropicbirds (Phaethon rubricauda) are pelagic seabirds found throughout the Pacific and Indian Oceans and are indigenous to the Hawaiian Islands.  These showy birds are mostly white but have some black accents on their heads and flanks.  Their most distinctive feature are their long red tail feathers and bright red beaks.

The breeding population in Hawai‘i is estimated between 9,000 and 12,000 pairs, with the largest populations occurring on Midway Atoll and Laysan Island in the Northwest Hawaiian Islands. The worldwide population is estimated between 17,000 to 21,000 breeding pairs, with most of them in the Pacific Ocean.  They often soar high in the sky, with their long, thin red tails streaming behind.  The birds can grow up 36-42 inches long (including tail) and have wingspans up to 44 inches across.

While perched on the cliffs I sat transfixed watching their courtship acrobatics in the air just off-shore.  A group of 6 birds flew in vertical circular loops diving past each other and even flying backwards!  See the video at the end of this post to see these stunning aerial antics.

Vanessa — my birding buddy – and I were thrilled to find several nesting sites along the coast.  While agile and graceful in flight, the  birds are awkward on land.  Koaʻe ʻula have short webbed feet that enable them to dive and plunge into the ocean to catch fish and squid, going as deep as 10 feet.  Their feet, however, were not exactly designed for walking and the birds flop around clumsily on the ground.

Koaʻe ʻula are mostly white in color but have black accents on their heads and flanks.  It was amazing to see their long red tail feathers up close.

 Click on photo to enlarge

Some birds have really long tail feathers that are longer than the bird itself.  The red tail feathers of koaʻe ʻula were prized in ancient Hawaii and were used to make kāhili — royal feather standards which were symbols of chiefly rank.

We saw several pairs of koaʻe ʻula in niches in the rock.  Pairs lay a single egg each season, and both parents incubate the egg, and brood and feed the chick.

When you get too close, koaʻe ʻula squawk loudly and warn you to keep your distance.

Although the birds are white — their feathers have a subtle pink pearlescent sheen.

While ascending the cliffs, I saw an adult tropicbird flee a niche in the rocks with ʻilima flowers (Sida fallax) at the entrance.  When I peered into the miniature cave, I saw my very first koaʻe ʻula chick!

With no adult to shield it from my camera, I had free reign to photograph and video the precious sight.  I then withdrew and waited for its parent to come back which returned some twenty minutes later.

The koaʻe ʻula on the Ka Iwi Coast are so spectacular that I can sit for hours admiring their brilliantly colored red beaks and long tails.  Equally amazing are their pair bonding rituals and courtship acrobatics in the air.  With nesting season in full swing right now I hope to see many more cute little chicks.  Can’t wait to see them fledge!

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SOURCES:

Birds of Hawaii, Phaethon rubricauda (red-tailed tropicbird), Hawaii Ecosystems at Risk

Red-Tailed and White-Tailed Tropicbirds (Koa‘e ‘Ula; Koa‘e Kea), Seabirds of the Hawaiian Islands, Hawaiian Encyclopedia

Red-Tailed Tropicbird, Wikipedia

Red-Tailed Tropicbird, Division of Forestry and Wildlife, Department of Land and Natural Resources, State of Hawaii

The Red-Tailed Tropicbird or Koa’e ‘ula, Phaethon rubricauda

Native Hawaiian Plants, University of Hawaii, Department of Botany

Plants of Hawaii, Hawaiian Ecosystems at Risk

With heavy rains over Oʻahu for over a week, Pete Clines had a great idea — float down Kaukonahua Stream while the water level was high!  The Hawaiian Trail and Mountain Club (HTMC) used to do a “Kaukonahua Float” each summer so Pete called Kris Corliss who led the adventure for the club to get her advice on the best of several alternative routes we could take.

Our group — made up of Bushwhackers, 808 Goonies, and Lost Trailblazers — pushed-off from the tall water tower near the end of California Avenue in Wahiawa where large paperbark trees have been planted.  From left to right: Chenay Borja, Josh Serrano, Elissa Thompson, August Smith, Jenelyn Castillo, Cory Yap, Pete Clines, and Dave Webb.

Given the heavy rains over the week, the descent under eucalyptus trees at the start of the Wahiawa Hills Loop was exceedingly slippery.

The Wahiawa Hills Loop is intersected by a network of hunter, and pig trails that crisscross the area and makes the way forward confusing even when you know the way.  Fortunately, several us of had hiked the loop before so even though we went astray a couple of times we were able to get back on course.

The first thing we did was drop down into Kaukonahua Stream where Pete tied a rope across the stream.  There are countless twists and turns in the meandering stream and it can be difficult to tell where to get out.  So we distinctly marked our exit point with a yellow rope on which we tied pink ribbons.

We then climbed out the stream and made our way on the Wahiawa Hills Loop through forests of large eucalyptus trees with ʻuluhe ferns and nauapaka kuahiwi in the understory.

We hiked on the loop for a little more than an hour until we began a big descent to the stream — the furthest extent of the Wahiawa Hills Loop.  Although the stream was not clear it was not muddy brown.  Particulate matter in the water made the water somewhat milky in color which is normal for this stretch of Kaukonahua Stream.  Had the water been muddy brown my concern about leptospirosis would have been greater.

Leptospirosis can be a life-threatening bacterial infection transmitted when water contaminated by animal urine comes in contact with cuts and unhealed breaks in the skin, the eyes, or with the mucous membranes.  Although the risk of infection is always present, many leptospirosis cases happen after big rains when rainfall washes whatever is on the land into the streams.  Since over a week of heavy rains had fallen, my theory was that much of the leptospirosis bacteria would have already been flushed down the stream.  The bacteria would still be present but hopefully at reduced concentrations.

Kaukonahua Stream is the longest stream in the Hawaiian Islands when the north and south forks are added together for a combined total of about 27 miles.   The stretch we would be floating down meanders over the landscape making countless turns and twists that alternate from pools to rapids the entire way.

After blowing up our inner tubes and floating mattresses, we took this group shot.  In front: Chenay Borja, and from left to right: Josh Serrano, Elissa Thompson, Jenelyn Castillo, August Smith, Cory Yap, Dave Web and Pete Clines.

When we got into the waist deep pool we and plopped down into our inner tubes — brrr!  The water was cold!  But our bodies grew accustomed to the temperature and we pushed-off on our adventure down the first set of rapids!  Wheee!

We had a blast picking up speed in the rapids that were at least a foot deep!  When the rapids got to 6 inches or less, navigating the rocks became crucial.  At several spots I poorly negotiated the rocky obstacles and got whacked on my shins, knees, and butt!  Ouch!

The excitement subsided whenever we reached a pool where we relaxed and enjoyed each others company as we floated downstream.

We encountered a strange unearthly sight on the banks of the stream – a purple inflatable alien!  We gave him a name — Alonzo — and brought him along for the ride.

Alonzo was very popular and we all took turns carrying him downstream.

When we reached the first big tree that had fallen into the stream, we had our first mishap — Pete’s inner tube got skewered by a branch under the waterline and sank.  Fortunately, we were equipped with 4 spares so we blew up an inner tube and continued on our merry way.

Not long after, Chenay’s tube got punctured and we blew up another spare.  But the spare had a defective valve and although we were able to perform a makeshift repair it sank ever lower in the water.  So we had to blow up another spare.

Click on photo to enlarge

Much of the time was spent floating lazily downstream — splashing in the waist deep water.  Still waters run deep and we could not stand up in several of the deepest pools.  But shallow rapids would inevitably return — usually just around the next bend.

Dave was the only one to use an air mattress which was more buoyant and enabled him to float higher in the water.  So he was able to clear the rocks in the shallowest of rapids where the rest of us could not go.

Cory had a big grin on his face for much of the time and the sound of his laughter filled the air as we made our way downstream.

When we stopped for lunch at a narrow point in the stream, we marveled at just how high the stream level had risen — presumably within the past week.  Debris stuck in the trees — where Pete points to marked by the red arrow — indicated that the water level had been about 12 feet higher!

After lunch we continued downstream.  Several rapids downstream my inner tube got punctured on the rocks and deflated.  Fortunately, August was not far behind and saved the day with his spare tube — our last one.  So we were able to continue on our merry way.

After four hours in the water we were cold.  There were so many twists and turns in the stream that although it was fun the stream seemed endless.  Pete reassured us that our exit point was “just a few more bends downstream” — uh-huh — but it never was.

Towards the end, we were so banged up from the rocks that when ever we reached the next rapids we got out of the water to walk over the rocks.   Except for Dave that is, whose air mattress enabled him to ride the shallowest of rapids.  Take a look at the video at the end to see Dave floating down the rapids while the rest of us look on with envy.

And then we saw it!  The yellow rope that marked our exit point!  It was nice to get out of the cold water and hike up the hills so we could generate badly needed body heat.

While making our way back to our cars, I could not help but replay in my mind the great time we had hiking the Wahiawa Hills Loop, floating lazily from one  pool to the next, and navigating the boulders and rocks through the rapids!   What great adventure!

FLASH FLOOD WARNING: Given the large watershed in Central Oʻahu drained by Kaukonahua Stream, flash floods are a danger.  Do not enter the stream if heavy rains are forecast.  Even if good weather is forecast monitor the water level at all times.  Rain can fall miles away and the water level can rise rapidly without warning.  Should the water start to rise, get out of the stream immediately and seek high ground.

HEALTH WARNING: It is nearly impossible to avoid getting water in your eyes or accidentally drinking a small amount of water.  Additionally bashing against the rocks and/or getting cut in the stream provides a way for leptospirosis to infect your body. Leptospirosis infections are usually systemic and causes a fever.  Illness follows a pattern similar to flu but often in two phases — a period of illness lasting a few days, then a slight recovery, followed by a second more severe period of illness. In mild cases the second phase lasts a short time and the patient recovers, but in severe cases the illness progresses rapidly, leading to organ failure and sometimes death.  If you come down with cold or flu-like symptoms within a month of exposure see a doctor right away.

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SOURCES:

Leptospirosis Information Center

Leptospirosis, Wikipedia

Native Hawaiian Plants, University of Hawaii, Department of Botany

Plants of Hawaii, Hawaiian Ecosystems at Risk

After rendezvousing at Makaha Beach Park, we drove to Ohikilolo Valley where the locked gate was opened for us to drive through.  We then parked at the entrance of a retreat owned by the Franciscan Order of the Catholic Church which runs Our Lady of Keaʻau — a mission that ministers to the needs of the homeless on the Waiʻanae Coast.

Despite the weather forecast which called for thunderstorms, the trail clearing group was undaunted and made its way up the dirt road, crossed the dry stream bed, and signed-in at the hiker-hunter check-in station.

Decades ago, ranching was the primary economic activity in Ohikilolo Valley and we past a number abandoned structures as we made our way up the dirt road.

Ohikilolo Valley is located on the dry leeward side of Oʻahu between the much larger valleys of Makaha and Makua.  The valley is usually so parched that hikers kick-up dirt clouds with each step.  But since it rained the night before, the moisture held the fine dirt down as we made our way into the valley.

Ohikilolo is known for its ʻaʻalii (Dodonaea viscosa) which grows into a small trees 6-12 feet high.  With the recent rainfall over the past few weeks the ʻaʻalii were full of seed capsules — the most common color being red.

But ʻaʻalii seed capsules come in a variety of colors.  I was pleased to see yellow-green capsules as we made our way up the dirt road.

Red and green often mix together to create shades of pink.   I could not resist stopping at the each ʻaʻalii grove along the way to examine their seed capsules.

After passing a defunct water tank on wheels, we crossed another dry stream bed and started a slow ascent up the middle ridge in Ohikilolo Valley which leads to the summit of Keaʻau Ridge.  With cattle and other animals making multiple trails in the area, it was difficult to find our way and we back-tracked several times.  So we marked the way with ribbons as we hacked our way up the middle ridge.

One of the more disturbing invasive plants I saw on the trail was Triumfetta rhomboidea which produces burrs that hitch a ride on your clothing and footwear.  I stopped several times to pick burrs off myself to avoid carrying them to the summit of Keaʻau where some exceedingly rare and endangered native plants can still be found.

While making our way up the middle ridge, we watched a bank of clouds drift in and settle in the valley.  It became so humid that the air felt thick and oppressive.

We were treated to the rare sight of Laredo Muredo, his hair dyed pink for Valentine’s Day (I’m a little behind posting my hikes), carrying a backpack!  Laredo sips water like a camel and usually only carries a small fanny pack.  Come to find out someone used her feminine charms to get Laredo to carry her pack.

Click on photo to enlarge

The middle ridge parallels close to Ohikilolo Ridge and offers a close-up view of its fluted cliffs.  It was amazing to see clouds  shrouding the mountain tops — an uncommon sight on the dry side of the island — which made Ohikilolo Ridge look almost like the Koʻolau Mountains from the windward-side.

With little breeze to cool us off and the air becoming increasingly humid, our clothes were soaked with perspiration as we climbed from one puʻu (hill) to the next.  And then it happened… BOOM!  Rain pummeled us from the skies!  The rain drops were so large that they actually stung when they pelted us!

Click on photo to enlarge

With so much rainfall, each fold on Ohikilolo Ridge became a waterfall!  And then we heard several loud CRACKS!   Boulders dislodged by the rushing water hit the rocks below with such force that they almost sounded like gun shots!  With so much rainfall and dislodged rocks, a decision was made to call off the hike.  So we turned around about half-way up the 2,900 foot summit of Keaʻau Ridge.

While descending the middle ridge, a lull in the rain allowed me to get a clear shot of the ephemeral waterfalls in each fold of the ridge.  We could see more dark ominous clouds moving in from the west, so we were not fooled that the weather would improve and continued to retreat down the middle ridge.  The dirt on the lower sections of the ridge turned to mud and we slipped and slided precariously down to the bottom.

After checking-out at the hiker-hunter check-in station, we crossed the dry stream bed at the front of the valley.  Despite all the rain in the days leading up to our hike, the wet season has been relatively dry this year and the parched landscape was able to soak up all the rain that fell.

Although I was disappointed I was unable to visit the rare plants at the top of the ridge, it was wise not to go to the summit.  Not long after we reached our cars heavy rains fell again and lightening flashed across the skies.  As I drove back home, I reflected on the great time we had seeing so many colorful ʻaʻalii seed capsules and the ephemeral waterfalls that spontaneously formed on the ridge before our very eyes.  What an awesome sight!

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SOURCES:

Native Hawaiian Plants, University of Hawaii, Department of Botany

Plants of Hawaii, Hawaiian Ecosystems at Risk

It was a dark, cloudy and rainy morning when I reached the end of Komo Mai Drive above Pearl City.  Given how little rain we’ve received so far during this wet season, I was pleased.  The landscape needed to be drenched.

After putting on my footwear and preparing my gear, I pushed-off on the 6-mile Manana Trail which follows the undulating outline of the ridge as it climbs up and down to the Koʻolau Summit Ridge and makes for a tough 12-mile round trip.

When I reached a grove of eucalyptus trees, rain began to fall again — a pattern that would repeat itself multiple times during the day — so I waited briefly for the rain to subside before continuing to where pine trees have been planted on the trail.

Since it was cold, I liked hiking uphill from one hill to the next to generate body heat.  It did not take long for the first 3 miles to fly by where I saw many ʻōhiʻa lehua trees (Metrosideros polymorpha) in bloom with bright red flowers.

The sound of a weed whacker grew louder as I made my way up the trail.  Thomas Yoza pushed-off well before the rest of the crew and was busy cutting back ʻuluhe ferns that encroached the trail.  Since I rarely have an opportunity to photograph the weed whackers, I stalked Thomas silently from behind for quite some time and was able to get some good photos and video before he detected my presence.

August Smith caught up to me and we continued on to a where koa trees (Acacia koa) dominate the landscape.  August found a lost sole — the remnants of a hiking shoe — near the base of a koa tree that formed a natural arch along side the trail.   We joked that the arch might be a portal leading to the realm of “lost souls”.

While climbing up the rope section I saw the vibrant red-pink leaves of liko lehua which added much color to an otherwise dreary day.

We also saw a number of pukiʻawe shrubs (Styphelia tameiameia) with bright red fruits tucked in with ʻuluhe ferns along the trail.

August and I hiked up to where ʻIliahi Ridge converges with Manana Ridge — roughly 2/3rds of the way up to the summit before taking our machetes.  Our plan was to clear the last 1/3rd of the trail to the summit.

When I stumbled on an ʻōhiʻa tree whose leaves formed a geometric pattern — a rosette — over a cluster of vibrant red flowers I stopped briefly to admire the photogenic sight.

With rain clouds dumping their moisture on us multiple times during the day, we saw a number of ephemeral waterfalls as we made our way up the trail in the clouds.

Dew drops from passing clouds condensed on the stamens and pistils of lehua flowers.

Due to the reduced rainfall this year, the ʻuluhe ferns had not grown back as vigorously on the upper portions of the ridge and the trail was already in decent shape.  But we hacked at the ferns anyway to proactively chop back the coming year’s growth.

When I stumbled on orange lehua blossoms where water droplets had condensed from the clouds, I was thrilled to photograph the tiny droplets of dew which sparkled in the light.

The clouds became thicker as we neared the summit and soon we were hiking in a thick mist.

Clouds socked in the summit so we had no view of windward Oʻahu from the 2,600 foot summit.  So my attention was focused on the ʻōhiʻa trees at the summit which are covered with moss.  It was cold at the summit and we did not linger for long after eating lunch and turned around to return the way we had come.

The rain fell several times on the return leg of our hike but it was still pleasant to hike in the native landscape dominated by ʻieʻie vines, ʻōhiʻa trees, and ʻuluhe ferns.

We were pleased when we descended to the middle and lower portions of the trail.  The weed whacking crew did a bang-up job re-establishing a 4 foot wide trail.

While making my way back down the Manana Trail to my car I could not help but reflect on the great time we had hiking in the rain, seeing lehua flowers covered with dew, and keeping the trail wide open.  What a great hike!

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SOURCES:

Native Hawaiian Plants, University of Hawaii, Department of Botany

Plants of Hawaii, Hawaiian Ecosystems at Risk

Because the dirt road to Kaʻena Point becomes a muddy mess when it rains, I pushed-off from Mokuleʻia along the edge of the coast which is longer but makes for a far more scenic hike along a series of beaches, ledges, tide pools and coves.

About a dozen or so coves ranging greatly in size are carved into the coastline.  Most are small — even tiny — but some of them are much larger. It is always fun to go from one cove to the next seeing the native plants along the way.

Naupaka (Scaevola sericea) is the dominant plant on the coast which is indigenous to Hawaiʻi and the tropical and sub-tropical coasts of the world.  Naupaka have distinctively shaped flowers — all of their petals are on one side which give their blossoms the appearance of being just half a flower.

Click on photo to enlarge

Fisherman and divers always congregate at the largest of the coves which is always fun to visit.  I like to walk on the rocky limestone edge to see the cove and tide pools.

Another plant along the way is nai‘o or false sandalwood – Myoporum sandwicense – which is indigenous to Hawaiʻi.  The plant has small white flowers that emit a distinctive sweet fragrance.

Perhaps the most eye-catching flower along the coast is ʻilima – Sida fallax — which produces cute yellow-orange flowers about three-quarter of an inch across.  ʻIlima flowers last only one day.  When the flowers first open their petals overlap and form a cup-like blossom.

The petals open up and fully extend themselves and are pollinated by insects and birds.  By the end of the day the flowers droop and the next day only the shriveled remains are left where their seeds of the next generation begin to develop.

Another interesting plant is ‘ohai — Sesbania tomentosa — which is on the federal list of endangered species.  The plant usually grows as a small shrub close to the ground and has silvery leaves covered with fine hair and oddly-shaped red-orange flowers.

Rarer still is an unusual prostrate form on ʻakoko — Chamaesyce celastroides var. kaenana — which grows on the boulders overlooking Kaʻena Point.  This variety of ʻakoko is rare and endangered.

When I neared the tip of Kaena Point a curious mōlī or Laysan Albatross or white gooney bird flew overhead.  Mōlī (Phoebastria immutabilis) are large sea birds indigenous to Hawaiʻi and the North Pacific.   With wing-spans exceeding 6 feet, they are strong fliers and spend much of their lives over the ocean feeding and sleeping in the air without landing on solid earth.

They do however, need to return to the land to nest and raise their young. Each year several hundred thousand pairs of mōlī — migrate to nesting sites on Midway, Laysan, and other atolls in the Northwest Hawaiian Islands.  Much smaller numbers nest at Kilauʻea Point on Kauaʻi, on Lehua Island offshore from Niʻihau, and at Kaʻena Point on Oʻahu.

Kaʻena Point is one of 16 mōlī nesting sites in the Pacific.  In 2011, a predator proof fence was built to protect roughly 59 acres at the tip of Kaʻena Point.  The fence stretches for about a mile and is just under 7 feet high.  The fence is built to protect mōlī and other nesting sea birds from dogs, cats, rats, and other predators.

Only several dozen pairs of mōlī appear at Ka’ena Point now days, a mere fraction of their former numbers in historic times.  Mōlī arrive during Makahiki, a four-month season in old Hawaiʻi that began with the first sighting of makali’i (the constellation Pleiades) on the horizon in late October or early November.

Click on photo to enlarge

Laysan Albatrosses are remarkably long-lived — they can live for up to 50 years — and form life-long monogamous breeding pairs.  Mōlī undergo an elaborate dance when they are reunited at breeding season.

Courtship entails elaborate dances that include bill clapping, bill dueling, head bobbing, marching, whistling and other pair bonding behaviors.   See the video at the end of this post to see why mōlī are so entertaining to watch.

Mated pairs return to the same area – usually to within a few yards — where they nested the previous year in order to find each other.  The birds mate, nest, and raise fledglings over a 5 month period until their offspring is able to fly and care for itself.

The little chicks are covered with a fluffy down and have frosted punk hairdoes that make them cute and a delight to see.

According to bird surveys at Kaʻena Point 19 of 23 albatross chicks fledged in 2003 and 11 of 13 chicks fledged in 2004, giving a surivval rate of or 82.6% in 2003 and 84.6% in 2004.  Although the survival rate is good, their overall numbers are so low to start with that many years will be needed to rebuild the colony.

One of the alarming threats to mōlī chicks are discarded pieces of plastic trash that float in the ocean and wash up on shore.  Mōlī adults and chicks mistake them for food and eat them.  Many have died with stomachs full of plastic trash.

The mōlī and keiki were so entertaining that the hours passed quickly and soon it was time to leave.  As I hiked back out to return the way I had come, I reflected on the great time I had watching the seabirds and hoped that the new predator proof fence will increase the number of chicks that fledge this year.  Can’t wait to see them again!

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SOURCES:

Albatross and Plastics, Monterey Bay Aquarium

Kaena Point Brochure, Division of Forestry and Wildlife, Department of Land and Natural Resources, State of Hawaii

Laysan Albatrosses, Life History and Distribution

Laysan Albatross, Hawaii Audobon

Laysan Albatross, Wikipedia

Moli or Laysan Albatross, Division of Forestry and Wildlife, Department of Land and Natural Resources, State of Hawaii

Native Hawaiian Plants, University of Hawaii, Department of Botany

‘Ohai (Sesbania tomentosa), Division of Forestry and Wildlife, Department of Land and Natural Resources, State of Hawaii

Plants of Hawaii, Hawaiian Ecosystems at Risk

During the night the temperature dropped to 60 degrees again but unlike the previous night there was no rain.  When I awoke the next morning, I made oatmeal for breakfast and prepared for the return leg of our backpacking adventure.

We broke down camp quickly and rounded up all the trash and tied them to our backpacks.  Allen Shiroma was one of the early birds and pushed-off early from the hunter’s shelter.

Fresh from a good night’s sleep, Jill Moratto was all smiles and made the final adjustments to her backpack straps before pushing-off.

When I reached the hill over our camp site, I gazed at the hunter’s shelter for the last time and followed the fence line towards the front of Makua Valley.

ʻŌhiʻa lehua is one of my favorite native plants and I admired the geometric pattern made by their leaves as I made my way up and down the series of hills.

There is much variation in the size, shape and color of ʻōhiʻa leaves.  I admired the reddish-orange color of the young leaves — known as liko — which added much color to the landscape.

While examining the ʻōhiʻa along the fence, I saw a number of Hawaiian Blue or Koa Butterflies (Udara blackburnii) whose wings are an iridescent turquoise color on the backside.

Click on photo to enlarge

When we reached the lookout point, we took a break to admire the panoramic view of Makua Valley.  As we relaxed for a bit, August pointed out the 4 notches he and Patrick traversed yesterday to get to the summit of Ohikilolo.

We saw the vibrant red and orange flowers of ʻōhiʻa lehua as we made our way over the landscape.

We crossed the fence several times using the stiles as steps to cross to the other side.

While making our way along the trail, I saw a number of gulf fritillary butterflies (Agraulis vanillae) whose wings are bright orange and black on top.

When we reached the Nike Station we stopped for a lunch break where we admired the view of the North Shore of Oʻahu from Mokuleʻia to Waimea Bay.

We then veered-off the trail onto an old road that connects with the Kuaokala Access Road.

We followed the Kuaokala Access Road until we reached the front of Makua Valley which is marked by an ʻiliahi tree.  We turned-off the road and made our way on the Kuaokala trail.

When we reached the site of the collapsed arch we could see the satellite tracking and communications facilities off in the distance and we knew the end was close at hand.

With the mid-afternoon sun beating down, we made our way down the firebreak road and made our way to the start of the trail where are cars were parked.

After making our way through the last grove of trees, we completed the 6 mile hike and emerged at the Kuaokala Trail head.  As we drove down to to sea level and back home I reflected on the great time I had hiking in the Mokuleʻia Forest Reserve, seeing rare and endangered plants and animals found no where else in the world, and having a great time entertaining each other at the hunter’s shelter.  Many thanks to Larry Lee for coordinating another great backpacking trek!

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SOURCES:

Native Hawaiian Plants, University of Hawaii, Department of Botany

Plants of Hawaii, Hawaiian Ecosystems at Risk