In July 2019, a Hawaii telescope protest shuts down 13 observatories on Mauna Kea. At present, no one is being allowed up Mauna Kea, because the summit access road is being blocked by people who refer to themselves as kia'i or protectors. But the access road, all 17.5 miles of it, is not the only way to reach the top of Mauna Kea.
Seventeen years prior to the protest and shutdown, on Oct. 6, 2002, a Sunday, four of us--Jim Pushaw, Dick Cowan, Ed Gilman, and I--hiked to the summit of the highest mountain in the Hawaiian Islands via its western flank with a total roundtrip distance of 10.5 miles (see our route below). The starting elevation for our trek was about 10,000 feet, with the summit of Mauna Kea being 13,796 ft. To reach the summit, we hiked for five hours, starting at 8:30 a.m. and topping out at 1:30 p.m. The return leg was quicker, 2.5 hours, and we arrived back at our start point at 4:45 p.m.
Jim, who lives in Waimea, played a big part in the outing, having scouted out Mauna Kea's western environs several times prior to the weekend of our hike. On his most recent visit prior to our hike day, he drove his Jeep Cherokee 4x4 up to do some clearing of the dirt road, accessible via Saddle Road, by removing large stones from the roadbed to make for safer driving conditions.
Ed, Dick, and I, all members of the Hawaiian Trail and Mountain Club, flew in from Honolulu on the preceding afternoon and Jim met us at the Kona Airport. Jim provided the ground transport for us in his Jeep, and we rode with him from Kona to Mauna Kea's western flank via Saddle Road and then via the aforementioned jeep road that begins by the Kilohana Hunter Check-in Station (see below). We drove up the jeep road for perhaps an hour, camping on the slope of the mountain at about the 8000-ft level. It got quite frigid overnight, certainly below 40F, evidenced by ice on the ground and on our tents upon our awakening on hike morning.
From our camp spot, we drove another hour up the rough but navigable jeep road to our starting point at the 10,000-ft level.
Prior to our trek, we discussed many issues, mostly via email, including gear (Dick came up with a nicely detailed list that the rest of us used as a guide), the altitude (three of us tried 120mg of ginko biloba twice daily the week prior and this seemed to help us), and basic logistics. Dick brought along a GPS, which proved invaluable for directional assistance and wayfinding. Best of all, he knew how to use it. In all, we were a good group and hiked well together. A good thing about hiking at and above 10,000 feet on Mauna Kea is that the weather stayed below us.
Hence, we enjoyed clear, sunny conditions during the hike. Meanwhile, unbeknownst to us, it rained downslope, a fact we realized when we saw the wet, muddy condition of the jeep road at lower elevations during our exit drive down the mountain. Though it was sunny up high, the temps all day were in the mid- to upper 40s. However, because we were hiking and exerting ourselves, we hardly noticed the cool temps. In fact, it was quite comfortable hiking weather. If we were hiking Kamaileunu on Oahu's west side, we'd be sweating and frying; in contrast, up on Mauna Kea over 11K feet, the hiking was wonderful, as least temperature-wise. Regarding the altitude, as I mentioned previously, the ginko seemed to help, for the worst any of us experienced were low-grade headaches and a bit of nausea while nibbling lunch at the summit. The worst, which none of us experienced, could have been high altitude pulmonary edema (HAPE), a life threatening condition. The high altitude did slow us down, which was apparent as we plodded laboriously in a semi-dream state for a mile and a half up the steep, winding observatory road to the summit. Being close to 14,000 feet above sea level, I experienced a feeling of malaise and a yearning to lie down and doze. At the summit, Jim sprawled out in a napping position and, upon seeing this, I told him to be careful because he might not want to get up again. I experienced that feeling on Mauna Loa and actually felt very comfortable laying down on hard rock. Regarding gear, attire, and supplies, we all were adequately prepared for the hike. Long pants, for protection from the sun and from possible falls on the rocky terrain, were a must. Additionally, we all wore wide-brimmed hats and sunglasses. We all started with multiple layers on our upper halves. After a half hour of hiking, we had stripped off all but the bottom layer because we were too warm. We all had gloves, both for hand protection in case of falls and for warmth. My gloves, a pair of Columbia brand I picked up at Ross's Dress For Less in Kaneohe the day before, worked wonderfully at the chilly, windy summit.
We all ended up carrying more water than we drank (I carried 5 liters). I suppose the coolness and the altitude made us feel like drinking less than we should have. My three colleagues wore hiking boots while I opted for a pair of New Balance trail running shoes, but I also carried a roll of duct tape in anticipation of a possible catastrophic shoe blowout. Fortunately, my shoes held up as did the boots of my colleagues. Be before we set off, we made sure to apply liberal coatings of sun screen. A sign we saw along the observatory road near the summit reminded us of this necessity. I used two hiking poles and these were invaluable to me for balance over the rugged terrain.
As for the terrain, in a word--rocks. It is obvious that Mauna Kea is older than Mauna Loa, which I had hiked previously. On Mauna Kea, there are few lava tubes and flow channels that are all over the slopes of Mauna Loa. On Mauna Kea, we hiked some sections of ball-bearing-like rocks about the size of baseballs. These sections were not comfortable to walk on and put us on guard of twisting an ankle or knee. The best hiking was along sections of flat old pahoehoe flows. At times, we hiked along cindery, sand-like sections which were manageable if flat but tedious if on slopes. We also passed massive cinder cones along the way, two prominent ones at the 11,000-foot level that bordered a huge flat plain area the size of a couple of football fields. As we got to 12,000 feet, we first came into view of two huge cones, Pu'u Pohaku (13,186 ft) and Pu'u Poliahu (13,631 ft), the latter named for the Hawaiian goddess of snow.
Our route and plan was to skirt to the south of Poliahu, in rolling, generally level terrain. And this turned out to be a good plan, for by following a drainage that appeared like a streambed, we progressed without incident and eventually caught sight of the summit cone, Pu'u Wekiu, dotted with observatories. The streambed route intersected the Mauna Kea trail just before it ended at a junction with the observatory road. The observatory road, by the way, is beautifully paved. As I mentioned previously, a 1.5 mile walk up the road is necessary to reach the summit. And to get to the summit from the highest point of the road, we followed a cindery trail down to a wind-whipped saddle; then there was the final climb to the summit cairn and benchmark, elevation 13,796, the roof of Hawai'i.
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| View north from Pu'u Wekiu summit |
Regarding flora and fauna, the treeline extended up to the 9000-foot level, with Mamane being the dominant tree species there. Lower down along the jeep road, the forest was more dense and included some ohia and koa. Above treeline, the vegetation became progressively thinner the higher we went. At the 10,000-foot level where we parked, for example, there were scattered smidgens of grass and smatterings of a plant that looked like a blooming silversword but was actually a weed; otherwise, not much else in the way of plant life was evident. Further up, above 11,000 feet, plantlife was just about nil.
As for fauna, we observed many bird species all along the way from the start of the jeep road at 6000 feet to about 9000 feet. We flushed flocks of quails as we drove along. We also saw (and heard) chukars (see pic below), a pueo, and smaller species, some which I'd guess were natives like amakihi and apapane. Jim said on a previous scouting visit, he'd talked with some folks who were doing an inventory of palila, an endangered native bird. Goats and bighorn sheep also inhabit Mauna Kea's slopes. We saw the former dashing off to our left as we drove down in the afternoon. We also came upon numerous animal tracks, probably made by goats but we saw no animals during the hike. And right where Jim parked his Jeep were goat bones, bleached bright white from exposure to the intense sun. Jim told us he'd seen mouflon sheep on previous visits, but we saw none on our visit. Above 11,000 feet, the only life we encountered was a buzzing fly or two. What these flies were doing up so high was beyond us.
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| Chukar |
Discoveries: We came upon several smashed transistor-like devices on the mountainside on the way up and on the way back down. Dick surmised that these likely were measurement instruments from weather balloons. We also found shards of plastic, maybe the remnants of a weather balloon. At around 12000 feet, we came upon a single ahu (rock cairn), which we used as a visual landmark on our return leg. To be sure we would not miss it, Dick set the ahu as a waypoint on his GPS device. Why this cairn was there and what it marked was a mystery to us because it was basically out in the middle of vast, remote, trackless territory. And, along the slopes of Poliahu, we found a Nerf football. Very puzzling and strange this find was. Another interesting discovery was at the summit, which features a benchmark and an ahu. The latter is adorned with an array of offerings, including leis, flowers, fruit, and a gourd.
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| Pu'u Poliahu |
To sum up, this was a tough hike, due to the extreme elevation and the lack of a trail to follow. But it was also wonderful, because we had the opportunity to challenge ourselves and to hike a route few if any had done before. We were fortunate the weather was favorable; we certainly would have been challenged navigationally in a whiteout situation, which can occur up high on the mountain. We acknowledge that always looming for us was the possibility of injury from long hours of rock hopping over trackless terrain under trying physical conditions. At the time, cell phone connectivity was spotty, so if one of us was hurt, getting help was not a certainty. Thanks again to Jim for not only coming up with the idea but for following thru to make it happen.
