I am no slouch. I hike, run, bike, kayak, ski, and when I am idle, mentally pace about thinking about what I am going to do next. I say this because, despite all of my activities, backpacking the Na Pali Coast was a significant challenge of which I will not repeat.

Kauai is the northern most developed island in the Hawaiian chain. It is mountainous and beautiful and famous for its rugged landscape.

Hanalei and Haena are the two primary towns on the north side, and they are close to the trailhead for the Na Pali Coast. While they are my recommended places to stay, keep in mind that it does rain here more often. If you are the type that prefers golf, resorts, and sun bathing you might like the south side more.

For the trip, I was joined by my wife, Julia, my stepbrother, Winslow and his wife, Katharine. We were all in shape and confident that we could tackle the 11 mile hike, which would lead us to the desired campsite situated at the base of fluted cliffs, ribbons of waterfalls, and the type of tropical scenery that one dreams about.

We would camp for two nights and then return to see the rest of Kauai equipped with little else except for a rental car, flip flops and bathing suits.

We were told that it was a good idea not to bring hiking shoes that you really cared about. There was red clay to contend with on the Kalalau Trail, and it would stain your shoes a permanent orange. Noted. We were also told that you could experience intermittent showers, and it was a good idea to bring a pack cover and put your clothes in a trashbag inside your pack. Noted. However, there were a few other things that were not impressed upon us.

We loaded up our packs, strapped them on our backs and began the the hike in high spirits. There is nothing more fulfilling than beginning a vacation with the knowledge that you have nothing but free time devoid of work and responsibilities ahead of you.

The scenery along the Kalalau Trail was gorgeous. Tropical foliage gripping the sides of mountainous terrain with the big beautiful Pacific gleaming blue as far as the eye could see. The trail fluctuates quite a bit as it makes its way around the steep sides of the island where it plunges into the sea. Up and down and around the trail goes offering beautiful new views at each bend.

Hiking in the Sierras where I live involves high elevations, piercing sun, and difficult terrain; however, there is something about hiking in high humidity and heat that can be draining. When it started to rain I quickly put on my pack cover and rain jacket. But I was sweating. Straining with my pack and jacket on in the rain made me feel like I was in some tortuous sauna with no hope for escape. I removed my jacket and resigned myself to being wet but cool.

The trail quickly takes on a different character when it begins to rain. Despite the fact that your feet get soaked, its surface gets very slick. Sections of the trail are precipitous and cut out along steep faces that leave you feeling quite exposed. Each one of us had our moments where we questioned the integrity of the trail and imagined the worst possible scenario…

You step, the clay crumbles, you try to catch you balance but your pack pulls you to one side. You tumble several hundred feet, arc off the cliff, and land in the Pacific. As you rapidly sink to the depths, you struggle to remove your pack. You swim to the surface, gasping for air, horrified at what is happening. Large waves are crashing against the vertical cliffs, and the current is strong. There is no way out of the water – there is nothing your friends can do to help you. Was that a shark?

Ha! This scenario occurred to me on several occasions as we made our way around certain difficult sections of the trail.

Up and down; up and down; sweating; rain; sun.

We eventually arrived wet, muddy and exhausted to the famous beach that we had been dreaming of for many miles. It was everything we had hoped for, and we set up camp. We were situated right next to a waterfall that fell directly upon the beach. A few other campers arrived later in the day, but the population of people was pleasantly sparse.

The next day we day hiked up a beautiful stream that meandered out of the mountains. There were wonderful little pools between the cascades where one could climb in and have a cool soak. You’d lay back and look out towards the ocean in the distance, surrounded by a tropical forest filled with flowers.

On our way back down to the beach we happened by somebody’s personal effects left to the side of the trail. We walked along a little further and saw more of the same. In each case, it looked like camping gear consisting of blankets and clothing. Not long after a beautiful Asian woman ambled by devoid of any clothing. When we reached the beach we were presented with the sight of many nude bathers spread about in the sand.

We would come to learn that there was a colony of people living in the forest being sustained by intermittent boat trips carrying supplies.

The next day we arose with a tinge of dread. We had to hike out the way we had come. It was much the same as the time before, and when we eventually reached the end we were clear about two things. One, we would not do any more hiking for the rest of the trip, and two, there was no way in hell we were staying at any campgrounds.

We promptly booked a vacation rental in Hanalei and spent the rest of the trip exploring the island, swimming with sea turtles and lounging about on the beach. I love Tunnels Beach!

My hiking shoes are forever stained orange, ready for the Na Pali Coast. But if I ever see that trail again it will be from the seat of a sea kayak, shoes in the closet, and flip flops on my feet.

My wife and I chose this particular hike for our Labor Day Weekend retreat because of our previous year visit. We had been very impressed by the diverse geology, incredible profusion of wildflowers, and impressive high alpine views. However, we only made it 3 miles in before we had to turnaround.

This year we had 3 days, backpacks, and no one else to dissuade us from making it all the way to Big Megee Lake, which is situated at 10,500 feet, and 7 miles up a fairly grueling climb.

We followed the twists and turns of Megee Creek up and up, and it was not long before we became oblivious to the heavy loads we carried on our backs because of the beautful views. We eventually made it to Big Megee Lake and setup camp alongside its shores.

The next day we slept in, waiting for some high Sierra howling winds to subside, and eventually got out of the tent, fixed breakfast, and prepared for a day hike over Megee Pass.

Fortunately, our backpacks have a great little feature that allows you to convert your top loader to a convenient fanny pack just big enough for a camel bladder, lunch, some extra clothes, and a camera. I love my Whitney pack made by Gregory. It has a lot of great features that customize to your varying needs.

We set out on our day hike, and immediately were captivated by the scenery that was presented. Waterfalls and wildflower laden meadows quickly converted to barren scree as we climbed higher and higher.  

Because of the substantial amount of snow we received this past winter, there were several snow crossings to be made. Nevertheless, they were fairly straight forward, and the only notable aspect was the red algae that does not cease to amaze me. The fact that an organism can thrive off of frozen water at elevations surpassing 12,000 feet is a unique attribute to say the least.

  Megee Pass is an easy enough climb and well worth the trip. Once you crest the pass you are presented with beautiful views into the opposing basin.  We shielded ourselves from the wind behind some conveniently placed rocks, enjoyed some lunch, and in an hour-and-a-half we were back at the campsite taking a swim and enjoying some wine.

For the trip I took along with me Kurt Vonnegut’s new book, A Man Without a Country. He’s old and bitter, survived the bombing of Dresden, and decidedly against Bush and many other politicians of today. One comment that he made that did resonate with me was, “I know of very few people that are dreaming of a world for their grandchildren.” It made me stop and wonder, is this true? Am I? Maybe when I have kids I will have those dreams, but for now it seems like the world will be an awful place. Crowded, polluted, and incredibly violent.

 The next day we made the inevitable hike out back to civilization. A civilization filled with cold beer, greasy burgers, and salty fries. Yum!We passed a horse train that was carrying backpacks for a group of men in their seemingly 50s. I know I am bitchy about things, and most definitely a hypocrite, but I can’t help but get a little irked at the fact that these once great symbols of the West are making money taking people’s crap out into the woods because they don’t have the motivation or wherewithal to carry their own shit. Those guys were hiking along at a fine clip, they just happened to have the money and the ability to pay someone else to do the heavy lifting. But in the John Muir Wilderness?

The outdoors should be open to everyone no matter their physical abilities. But in this day and age I simply believe that people should not be involved in a commercial enterprise that is directly connected to a wilderness area set aside with tax payers money. I’m sorry if you are in a wheelchair, overweight, or old, but there are certain places for certain things. You have boundaries with specified rules. How about the property line that runs around your house?