To The end of the world, From Mars.
To The End of The World,
In January of 2023 a dear friend of mine invited me to his wedding on the Big Island of Hawaii, aka Hawaii. I had never been to Hawaii and had only heard great things. Loving an adventure, I elected to take a week off of work so that I could do some additional exploring once the wedding festivities had concluded.
If you’ve read any of my other stories, you’ll likely recognize that there’s, what many would deem an uncomfortable lack of planning that goes into my trip preparation. Personally, I think that’s half the fun. It doesn’t always work out the best, but typically, whatever does happen tends to make for a solid story.
Ahead of this trip to Hawaii, however, I did elect to research some of the hiking available in the region. From everyone I’d spoken with, there were a plethora of trails available and it would be prudent to narrow down my list.
As I was doing my research, I became enchanted with the hike to the Mauna Kea summit. There were several factors that drew me to it. There was the difficulty of the hike and the pride that came with conquering such a trail. Technically, if measured from it’s submerged base, it’s taller than Mt. Everest. Additionally, the pictures looked otherworldly and atypical of what you’d likely imagine a hiking trail in Hawaii to look like. Perhaps, most of all, it was the religious significance. The summit, allegedly, was sacred and was referred to as “the region of the gods” and was a place where “benevolent spirits reside”. (Link to Mauna Kea’s Wikipedia page, if you want to read more. It’s really cool.)
How could I not do this hike?
So, my itinerary was more or less set. I would arrive on the Big Island on Friday, January 13th 2023 and stay at the Marriott through the wedding festivities until Monday January 16th. On Monday, I would rent a car and drive about 2.5 hours to the town of Hilo where I would stay until Wednesday January 18th, and on the 18th I would drive to Kona for the day and my final night in Hawaii. More simply:
1/13 - 1/16: Wedding
1/16 - 1/18: Hilo, adventure and Mauna Kea
1/18-1/19: Kona and rest before departure
Now, in my research of Mauna Kea, I had learned that the weather was totally erratic and unpredictable. In any given hike you could expect a combination of scorching hot sun, cold rain, heavy winds, and even snow.
That, coupled with the steep, gravely inclines that ultimately could turn to snow underfoot put me in a bit of a predicament when it came to packing. How would I be able to bring all of my wedding apparel and the proper hiking equipment for such an intense hike?
I decided I would pack the most minimal, yet versatile hiking gear I owned and that, no matter what, I would arrive at the trailhead and at least try. “If it was meant to happen, it was meant to happen”, I thought. Deep down, though, I REALLY wanted to do this hike.
Along with the gear concerns, there was another potentially more problematic consideration. Altitude. The summit of Mauna Kea is just shy of 13,800 ft. In my research, I had learned that altitude sickness is a legitimate possibility on this hike, and that there’s not really anything you can do about it. There’s nothing physically you can do to better condition yourself against it.
In fact, it seemed there were only things you could do to increase your chances of contracting altitude sickness. Those things? Coffee and alcohol. Not exactly what I wanted to hear knowing I’d be attempting this hike just 1 day removed of a weekend wedding celebration.
The wedding was an absolute blast and one of the best ones I’ve ever been to. It featured a traditional Hawaiian wedding ceremony that was as beautiful as the land we were in. It was during the ceremony that my beloved Jacksonville Jaguars came from being down 27-0 to defeat the Chargers. The victory was sealed as the groom (from Jacksonville) began his Mother-Son dance to the tune of Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “Simple Man”. Things could not have been rowdier or more “Jax”.
Now, ahead of the reception, I had learned that the bride’s father was actually an astronomer overseeing the observations conducted at, you guessed it, the summit of Mauna Kea. I decided this would be an opportunity to learn more about the feasibility of the hike, especially given my gear constraints.
Speaking with the father of the bride, he confirmed that the weather could potentially be an issue and that altitude sickness could certainly be factor. He also indicated that plenty of water, frequent urination, and a slow ascent (to adapt to the altitude) would be my best chance of avoiding that terrifying unpleasantry. Along with the verification of my own research, he also indicated that it should be doable with my gear, but may be a bit challenging. “Excellent”, I thought.
Also at the wedding, was one of the scientists from the observatory. He was there with a giant telescope pointed at one of the clearly visible planets (Saturn maybe?). I figured it couldn’t hurt to continue my research and get as much information as possible. The scientist confirmed what I had heard earlier and added that occasionally runners would complete the summit in around 3 hours. “Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad”, I thought.
The wedding festivities flew by with the speed that only exists when gathered with loved ones boozing and dancing together in a tropical paradise. Monday, I awoke chemically depleted and filled with sadness that so many of my friends had left. I am really not great with good-byes.
I picked up my rental car and made the lonely drive to Hilo where, at least, I would be rendezvousing with two of my best friends who had stuck around and would provide me with a spiritual lift. As I drove, I was struck with the variety of vegetation and how quickly the landscape shifts from tropical paradise, to rainforest to volcanic rock and brush. The Big Island is worth visiting to witness this alone.
Once I arrived in Hilo, I checked into my Airbnb and met up with my friends. Though exhausted, we made the most of the afternoon. We explored some caves and hiked to some waterfalls. Afterwards, we explored the small town of Hilo.
Both of these are very close together, so it’s a great way to see a lot with limited time.
Akaka Falls
With limited time, we wanted to be as productive as possible. We had also heard that Volcanoes State Park was worth seeing. We had also learned that this was much better to observe at night. So, after a dinner, we piled back into the rental car and made our way to the park.
One of the best things about Hawaii is that they have strict light pollution rules, resulting in an unimaginable amount of stars at night. As we arrived at the trailhead for the volcano, Mauna Loa, we couldn’t help but scuffle along with our heads craned upwards counting shooting stars with ease.
Seeing the active volcano was a mesmerizing experience. It’s like watching a giant lava lamp. You could stand there and look at it for hours as the lava and magma swirls, spits and gurgles in an infinitely random waltz together. As I watched, I couldn’t help but think how crazy it is that they let you get so close. No one really knows when a volcano is going to erupt. They think they know, but they don’t really. And yet, they’re like “yea have at it”. After some time, still tired and weary, we returned to Hilo to check in for the night.
Once back at my Airbnb, I figured it couldn’t hurt to seek the advice from one more person before beginning my trek to Mauna Kea. I informed my host that I would be leaving early in the morning to drive about 1.5 hours to the base camp where I would wait about an hour to adjust to the altitude before beginning. (This is another tricky element to this hike. Hilo is the closest town you could reasonably stay at before attempting the hike, but Hilo is at sea level. So, essentially, you’re going from sea level to 13,800 ft.).
In speaking with my host, he mentioned quite casually that he used to go up to the summit all of the time when he was younger. Feeling a bit more reassured that this hike could be possible, I dosed off to sleep easily, eager for my quest yet lamenting my 5:00 AM alarm.
My journal entry from that time is probably the best way to depict the events of that day.
Tuesday 17th January 2023 - Mauna Kea Day
I woke up at 5:00 AM after going to bed at 11:00 PM to the cricket-like sounding tree frogs and gentle rainfall. It literally sounded like a meditation track (truly, I have a recording of it). Standing in the doorway tiredly listening to this [sound], I contemplated going back to bed. After all, if it was cold and rainy here, what would the top of Mauna Kea be like?
But, from the beginning of this trip my plan/mentality with Mauna Kea was that I would love to do it but understood it may not be possible because of the altitude or gear or weather. Keep in mind, I came to Hawaii for a wedding. I lacked a substantial portion of my camping gear. Here is what I departed with:
Roughly 4 liters of water + hydration Gatorade
2 protein bars
2 cans of sardines + tortillas
Light North Face running gloves
Patagonia rain shell
Burton pullover fleece
Running shorts
Bluejeans
Wool socks + extra running socks
Dry-fit running short sleeve shirt
Light, long-sleeve, dry-fit pullover
Denim long sleeve shirt
Brookes running shoes
I began my drive to the summit. With exhausted eyes, I drove in awe of the stars. It felt like I was captaining a spaceship, which was fitting because the top of Mauna Kea feels like another planet. I arrived at the visiter center and waited for about an hour to try and acclimate to the altitude. It was so cold. I put on every layer I had except for the additional socks. I waited outside the car thinking that it might help to try and acclimate to the cold as well. Only two others had arrived at the same time. We would depart and arrive at the summit at different times despite overlapping while on the trail.
“At least at this point it wasn’t raining”, I thought. I checked-in with the rangers [as is required] and began my climb.
Mauna Kea visiter center
Now, leading up to this hike, the research I had done was that the first 2 miles would be very tough. From there, it would be more moderate assuming no altitude sickness kicked in. I began the climb and as the altitude began to kick in about 2 miles in, I was hopeful the trail “should” get easier because the first 2 miles were basically straight uphill at a 45 degree incline in gravel, almost like walking in the soft sand on the beach [except you’d slide back rather than sink].
There was a saying on the trail forums that the start of this hike was like two steps forward and one slide back. Now the sliding was not as intense as the forums made sound, but it is real.
So, at the onset of this altitude feeling I remembered the few things I could control to help. Go slow to acclimate. Drink lots of water. Pee often, even when you don’t think you need to go.
Eventually, I was above the clouds crossing over ice covered planes of lava tock. The trail had not gotten easier. While the gravel had turned to lava rock and ice, it was still incredibly steep. Very few switch back and [level] terrain.
Now, as someone who’s never hiked in altitude all I can say is that it’s extremely uncomfortable, stressful, exhausting and taxing. You become slightly light headed, you can feel each heart beat, you can feel your brain swelling, the thinness of the oxygen and the difficulty of each step. Even when you yawn you feel as if you can’t get enough oxygen. The air is thin. You start thinking of the worst case scenarios. If you’ll black out, unable to call for help or be found in time of the scarcely trekked trails.
So, I went slow. I paused often. Sometimes frustratingly slow. At times it felt as if every 10th of a mile required a pause to catch breath and let the heart rate return to ‘normal’.
I’ve done physically demanding trips, which are inherently also mentally taxing, but this was different because of the constant physical discomfort and fear. Each step was either a prayer for safety, a mental encouragement to take one more step, or both. And what’s scary is you reach a point where you don’t want to turn back. You’ve gotten too far and you don’t want to repeat the agony you’d just conquered, only this time in defeat. And thus the fear builds. The demise of an individual at the hand of their ego is a tale old as time after all. “Stressed” is the best word I can think of. You’re uncomfortable for however long it takes you to make it [to the summit] and turn back. You start to question what the fuck you’re even doing up there. But you also begin to give thanks for the view, that you have the physical ability to ascend, that others before you have ascended, and in all manner, you are humbled.
Each step I took was one of gratitude, reverence/respect for the mountain and all things in life that exist and persist despite all of humanity.
The landscape is otherworldly. Red rock and snow above the clouds of Hawaii. It’s warm enough for shorts and a sweater but there’s also a bright plain of ice (granted I was remarkably lucky with weather).
At about 5 miles in, I felt like maybe I had acclimated to the altitude, but then I reached the switchbacks (which you walk on the side of the road) and these are more than a 45 degree incline. I was so close to the point you’d think it impossible to turn back, but ooo I thought about it. I thought about giving up right there. That close. Settling for what I’d already accomplished. It was THAT grueling, those last steps. But I did not [give up].
I arrived above the clouds where our observatories sit to learn about the stars and galaxies I’d witnessed in my spaceship on the way there. I had read that it was common to catch a ride down from the top and a nice couple gave me a ride down.
I waited at the basecamp to make sure I was good to drive back. I returned to the BNB exhauseted and hungry. I showered, went into town to explore, grabbed an early pasta dinner and then a pizza to eat later while watching Netflix. I feel so accomplished for that climb. It may be easy for some but it was so difficult for me.
Mainly, it’s just you and the mountain, and, in some respects, YOU are the mountain. You have to climb and summit your inner thoughts, fears and negative talk. You have to trust and believe in yourself. You have to embrace that your mind, in many ways, is the mountain to traverse and ascent. That night, I slept with no trouble to the Hawaiian tree frogs and crickets.
Overall, I got EXTREMELY lucky with the weather. I’m not sure how possible the hike would have been if I’d experienced some of the fowl weather that I had read about. I know it sounds really weird, but I attribute my fortune to the attitude in which I approached the hike. I was passionate about getting to experience it, and at the same time I was respectful of its history, force, and beauty.
Once I’d gotten back to the Airbnb, the host asked what I had gotten up to all day. I was confused. I had told him I was going to do the hike. “Perhaps he just forgot”, I thought. I explained to him that I had summited Mauna Kea and that it was way more difficult than he made it out to be the previous night. As I was telling him this, his eyes got wide and he said, “wait, you hiked it?!”. “Yes”, I responded. “You’re crazy. When I was saying we’d go, we’d always drive!”, he countered. Feeling a bit more validated, we shared a laugh over the misunderstanding.
A view from my Airbnb in Hilo.
The most significant form of validation came when my buddy, Cody, texted me during his departure. The text was something along the lines of, “dude, I knew the hike you were doing was supposed to be pretty intense, but I didn’t fully understand HOW intense until our departing flight took off and our pilot said, ‘and if you look out your right you’ll see the observatory atop Mauna Kea’. You were as high as the plane!!”
Between the observatory perched atop the summit, the ice, and the volcanic rock, it really does feel like you’re walking on Mars.
I set out the next morning for Kona, where I would spend my final day and night in Hawaii. It was in Kona that I discovered a solid travel ‘tip’. If you’re ever in a location and don’t have anything planned, pull up Google Maps and just start scrolling and zooming in and out in areas around your location. While I was doing this in Kona, something caught my eye, “The End of The World”. Once again, how could I not go!?
I got back in the car and headed that way with my friend Susan (pictured above). We were rewarded with a cliff jumping opportunity. Despite having summited about 14,000 ft. the day prior, I still felt uneasy with the heights and the rocks. Yet, having spent the day before wrestling with fear, I felt emboldened and jumped. I had put the lessons of the mountain into practice and would carry those lessons with me into the rest of the year and the rest of life.
Calibrate your attitude. Approach challenges with respect and passion. Learn what you can. When it gets hard, go slow. Focus on the breath. Remember and honor those who came before you. Acknowledge the fear, and then take the next step. Appreciate your blessings. And, perhaps most importantly, have fun.
From,
Mars
