Hike Koloa Gulch with the HT&MC
August 6 2006
This is not my story, but I thought it wise to post it!-Steve
. I was the first to arrive, parking in the last spot near the road. There were three vehicles already parked outside the restrooms, and three local guys were standing around drinking beer and listening to the radio from the truck. I walked over and offered them a breakfast mango, which they courteously declined; they offered me a beer, which I courteously declined. I told them that the place would soon be crawling with hikers, and not to be surprised; they promised not to be surprised. By the time I returned from the restroom several of my hiking friends had already appeared and were bustling about getting ready. The local guys took all this in good spirits. They eventually started to drive away, but stopped when we yelled at them that they had left full beer cans on top of the car; which they sheepishly retrieved. People were late arriving from the Palace; it seems that Clayton had begun the day with a dead car battery and therefore started late. But, eventually 15 hikers stood around in the light rain, trying to get the pencil to work on the slippery sign-in sheets, awaiting the verdict. Clayton first allowed the ‘fast five’ to depart, and I hastened to restrain the three young women who had ridden from the palace with Pat. I told them that they would not be able to keep up the pace, that they needed to listen to the briefing, and that they probably wouldn’t see those guys again today. As the sky started to dry up Clayton finished up his briefing and let us all go while he changed into his hiking boots. I started out and across the road, a trail of ducklings at my back. I noted that a new road was being placed inland of the narrow bridge that always seems a hazard to walk across. Maybe by next year we can walk it in safety. We turned up the muddy road across from that ornate gate and headed for the Boy Scout memorial, placed for a Scout who had been washed away by rising waters; another omen? It kept fairly dry all the way up the ridge, where we were able to pick plenty of fat, ripe Strawberry guavas along the way. There were clouds settled on the Koolau range, but nothing threatening. I stopped to get some branches to block the upper ridge trail where our trail diverted down into the gully. By the time that was completed the rest of the hikers had come up behind, and I stayed with them the short distance to the first stream crossing. I asked Pat Rooney to brief the new people on how to safely cross a stream without rock hopping or taking other chances, and then we waded on into the flowing stream. A light rain started again as we crossed a second and then a third time. By the fourth crossing, out of more than 20 to come, it seemed that the water was getting swifter, and when I entered the fifth I knew the water was rising. I advised the group that we were going to return right away and maybe just go up the ridge for a hike. When we arrived back at the fourth crossing it was very apparent that we would have a difficult time getting across. I told the group to remain where they were, and be prepared to climb higher, while Michael and I would try to blaze a trail on the same side of the stream, back down to the third crossing. We cleared trail for about 20 minutes, and when it became obvious that we could probably get through, I sent Mike on to continue while I returned to the group and had them follow me on our newly fashioned rabbit warren. They all took it well, and as an adventure, so nobody was stressed out by this necessity. We resumed along the regular trail from the third to the second, but came to a cliff at that point and couldn’t continue downstream from there. We used the walkie-talkies to talk to Clayton, who had a group that hadn’t entered the stream, and Janice had gone back to that point on her own. We advised him not to continue, that the stream was rising and we were stuck on the wrong side of the second crossing. We didn’t know where the ‘fast five’ were, and they hadn’t a radio. Clayton advised us to wait for the stream to recede. However, I saw that the ridge going up nearby seemed to be climbable, and if we got to the top we could just follow the ridge trail down. I told the group that Mike and I would start climbing to check it out, and that they should stay where they were, only climbing if the water rose up to them. I climbed for about 20 minutes, and thought that I could see the top, so I asked Mike to get them started climbing. We radioed Clayton to let him know what we were attempting, and he suggested that we just wait for the water to recede. By the time we had everyone up above the stream for a great view of the valley snaking away to the west, I told them to sit tight while I went up to what was a false summit. When I thought about the danger it might be for our 3 inexperienced hikers I accepted that Clayton had the most reasonable action, and so headed them all back down to the stream again. They thought that climbing that ridge was quite an adventure to get that view, and an experienced hiker would have made it. Once back at crossing 2 Michael couldn’t stand being idle and so plunged across the fast moving stream to just barely catch hold on the other side and then ease himself out. But, we knew that if we all tried that we would lose somebody. Michael searched for and found a 12’ long, skinny sapling that had recently been cut and threw out the base end for Tony and I to catch, while retaining the top for him to hang onto. With the two young guys hanging on to each end I grabbed hold and went hand-over-hand until the current caught me and I banged up against the boulders close to the other side; Michael and Tony did a really good job of hanging on. Since I had been the heaviest person in the group, and I could be in the water wedged among the boulders to catch each person, we had an excellent chance of retrieving everyone. We removed our backpacks after the first one came over, so that I just had to grab them as they went under the sapling and they could climb up my back and into the shallower water. Fortunately, though everyone was obviously concerned, and two of them couldn’t swim, each of them in turn went into the water and upstream behind Tony holding his end of the branch, pulled themselves along it until they got close enough to me, and then I grabbed them as they let go. Tony just held on and let the arc of the branch take him across as Michael held it. I’m proud of them both. We stood around a little bit and then headed to the last crossing. As I approached I could see Clayton, Lynn, Janice and a couple I didn’t know. The water was still roiling, so we had to devise another strategy to get across safely. The large man that I didn’t know yelled that he had a rope, and offered to help string it across. I agreed and pointed out the tree I thought would be best to tie it to on his side, and also to get it secured in the large fork so that it wouldn’t slide down. He tied it on really good and then wrapped the other end around a rock, which her threw downstream of us on the bank. I first tested the strength of the skinny rope to make sure that it was strong enough, by pulling it very tight, and it held. I wrapped our end around a tree on our side just above where a branch had been removed to make sure that it would stay up there. Then I asked someone to keep the end taught and stepped into the water and on across, being pulled almost horizontally by the strong current. I went back into the stream and found some solidity on the other side of the strongest current, motioning for the next person to come over. As she got to me and past I thrust her close to the two guys on the bank and they pulled her in. But, taking a rest on the bank, I felt that the water had risen more and it would be more difficult to get the next one across. About this time the ‘fast five’ came straggling down the trail, grinning like banshees. They had gotten as far as the 11th crossing before turning back, and so had been having a difficult time with each subsequent trial. They were happy to have only one more to go, but looked askance at our rig. Nigel went just a bit further downstream and discovered where a tree from the far bank had fallen and spread branches across the middle. He started across at that point, just below a large boulder. Clayton and I rushed down to where he was coming across, but he didn’t require any help, only reassurance that we were close by. After he made it across there, a line formed on the other bank, the ‘fast five’ stationed themselves across the stream and stood by, ready to act, as everyone made it single-file to our side. We also rigged the rope from a tree on the other side to a strong point on the downed tree for them to hang onto. Eventually we were all on the right side of the fast flowing stream, healthy and safe and uninjured. They were all in good spirits and each exclaimed that they had a genuine adventure to talk about. They all headed up the trail as I returned the rope with thanks, found my soaked backpack and preceded Clayton, the last guy out, back up the trail. The remaining time was relatively uneventful except for being honked at by a driver, who gave us a ‘shaka’; it was one of the morning beer drinkers. If he only knew! Back at the parking area we swiftly had a boisterous party going, with lots of raucous noises, laughter and incredulity that we had survived a near-miss without much of a scratch. It was still early, only 1:30, by the time the parking lot was again empty.