The Kalalau Trail - Day 1

After a night at the Aston Islander we headed, a little reluctant to leave and definitely a little nervous, to the northern side of the island.  We dropped our car and luggage off for storage at Kayak Kauai and called a cab to take us to the trailhead.  We snacked on trail mix and tried to make small talk with the Kayak Kauai guy.  We were filled in on all the little tricks of the trail, including what to barter with, and for.  With = Chocolate.  For = Pizza Sauce.  Really?  Now what am I going to do with pizza sauce on the trail? 

So if you haven't heard much about the Kalalau Trail (most haven't) it's known for attracting free spirits.  And not the "Drew and Brandy" kind of free-spirit (we're rather tame, I think).  I'm talking "I might wear clothes, if I want to" and "I might just live off the land, if I want to" kind of folks.  So while anyone planning to hike past the two mile point technically needs a permit (we're rule followers, do you even need to ask if we had one?) let's just agree that a lot of people seem to just gloss over those formalities and lean more towards living on the trail for week or months at a time, permit-less.  We were prepared, and even if our Kayak Kauai guy looked at us with some skepticism, we retained an outward appearance of confidence. 

Once our taxi had deposited us at the trailhead, we gathered all the gumption known to man (we'd soon find it was barely enough) and headed out.  Months previous, I had researched the trail.  And then I got scared.  So I just adopted a "It'll be like a roller coaster" mentality.  Apparently roller coasters equate to "even with all the up, I'll have the down to recover" in my mind.  Wrong. So wrong.  I'd "ostrichsized" it as my coworker likes to say - buried my head in the sand.  Not that I hadn't trained.  I'd worked my butt off for several months.  But if we're being honest with each other, it was the kind of training that makes you look good for swim suit season (which is important, in Hawaii).  I'd avoided the longer runs, and the uphill ones - those meant for stamina, and endurance.  The kind that keep you from yelling at the trail several months later.

We churned straight uphill through mile 1 and most of mile 2 and looking back, I should be quite impressed.  What it really was, though, was quite insane.  Surrounded by people who are only headed to the tourist attraction two miles in to the hike (where they would lounge for a bit and then turn around), I felt the need to keep up.  Even though I had 9 more miles after, and 25 more pounds on my back.  But we killed it, really.  Once we started heading down into the little valley and towards Hanakapiai Beach, the most dangerous beach on the island (the sign says 82 drownings since they started keeping track), it was still mid-morning.  We'd gotten a later start than we wanted to, but were making up time with our pace.  We also were starting to get those "Oooohhh, how far are you going?" and "Why do you want to do that?" comments.  And just like in Yosemite, I ambled down the last part of the trail in step with a family and to a litany of kid questions about my pack, my food, where I sleep, how I brush my teeth, and how I don't fall.  Which are really my favorite questions of them all since they're such a mystery to me, too.  :)