Fisher Cat
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Several years ago we hiked to the backside of the Pu'u O'o vent. We came at it via the Glenwood approach, which is thick jungle, accented with hidden steam vents and other geologic hazards underfoot. The trail brought you right to the edge of the lava fields with the big, bat-eared crater looming, belching, and steaming before you. A hiker could go further, there was certainly no one in authority to stop you, save only for one's common sense and desire of self-preservation, would you stay alive.
This week we took a different approach. The much longer 14 mile Napau Trail would be our course. This traversed multiple lava fields, had a quick spur to another summit, and had a lot of exposure.
Our first encounter was with a Ne'ne'. This smaller-than-a-Canadian-goose bird is flightless, but has no predators, excepting crazed tourists flying through the park on the roads. It is endangered and tourists are strongly cautioned NOT to feed it.
As we started we crossed lava fields where hollow lava sentinels left reminders of the trees they had torched as the lava moved into their realm. Some trees, like the tall, skeletal remains we see here, held out longer and did not burn as quickly due to the amount of moisture they contained. Lava piled up, quickly cooling, but as the moisture was absorbed by the heat, the outcome was inevitable. The tree burned, leaving only its lava encasement as a reminder to its former existence.
We took a quick spur to the top of Pu'u Huluhulu. From here we could look down into virgin jungle forest protected by a lava shield from past flows.
We were now gaining altitude, be it gradual, and most of the rest of the morning and early afternoon was enshrouded in fog, mist, and outright rain. We kept swapping places with two nice women from Seattle, one of which, when stopping to put on better hiking clothes, unbeknowingly had a huge spider crawl into her boot. They were a distance ahead at one point, in a lava trench, when we heard a scream and I looked up and saw a hiking boot in midair. Seems as if the spider had crawled out and bitten her. We had our huge 1st Aid kit, but she was OK. So pics from this section of hike are few because it was too wet for the camera. I did manage a nice picture of this fern plant named 'Ama'u. It is pictured here in its 3 stages of life. The red is new growth, of which the red pigmentation protects the young, vulnerable leaf from the sun's harmful rays. As it grows, it changes to green, then lastly to grey as it dies.
As we gained altitude, the skies cleared, and we came to Makaopuhi Crater. Its steam vents are still puffing.
The rims and edges near the crater may seem great for photography, but in fact they are very unsteady and there is serious undercutting going on presently.
Then it began to rain and mist again. So back into the holster went the camera, and just in time because we had 2 miles of in-close, THICK greenery, crouching, crawling, muddy, impassably wet, JUNGLE hiking. The foot corridor was no more than 9-12 inches wide and grown in like you would not believe. We got to the outlook for Pu'u O'o, the active vent, and soaked it in. I only wish I could have gotten a better picture.
It was now late afternoon and we had to head back, 7 more miles to go. The suns sets fast in Hawai'i, no matter what altitude you are at, and we knew we had to at least clear the jungle, and, if need be, we could use our headlamps in the open. But we made good time, watching the long afternoon shadows make the ferns in the lava fields look larger and numerous than earlier. Their tenacious grasp in a land that looks more barren than it really is, makes them the pioneers of the environment and life that will eventually rise here. It makes you appreciate the great cycles of this planet. It is a humbling experience indeed to walk upon ground that is younger than you, and it puts into perspective the part we play in a plan greater than us.
As we were about to enter the jungle for the last quick jaunt to the Jeep, we gazed behind, and captured this quick picture:
There, far in the background, was Pu'u O'o itself. The crater peak was emerging from its misty, steamy cloak. It appeared for but a few seconds, and then the ever finicky winds shifted again. Ever so quickly it was back in the clouds. A subtle reminder that this planet spins, breathes, and is alive. And that the lives we as individuals lead are no greater than life itself. This day was ending, night was closing, but the continual process of this planet making itself was continuing on. We are privileged to be alive and to enjoy life. Hopefully we all live our lives to the greatest extent possible and help enrich others at the same time.
Mahalo for reading,
A few more pics are here:
http://fishercat.smugmug.com/Other/Journey-to-the-East-Rift/25182994_qDnMPt#!i=2065834128&k=28FfxPt
See ya in the Whites in October!
This week we took a different approach. The much longer 14 mile Napau Trail would be our course. This traversed multiple lava fields, had a quick spur to another summit, and had a lot of exposure.
Our first encounter was with a Ne'ne'. This smaller-than-a-Canadian-goose bird is flightless, but has no predators, excepting crazed tourists flying through the park on the roads. It is endangered and tourists are strongly cautioned NOT to feed it.
As we started we crossed lava fields where hollow lava sentinels left reminders of the trees they had torched as the lava moved into their realm. Some trees, like the tall, skeletal remains we see here, held out longer and did not burn as quickly due to the amount of moisture they contained. Lava piled up, quickly cooling, but as the moisture was absorbed by the heat, the outcome was inevitable. The tree burned, leaving only its lava encasement as a reminder to its former existence.
We took a quick spur to the top of Pu'u Huluhulu. From here we could look down into virgin jungle forest protected by a lava shield from past flows.
We were now gaining altitude, be it gradual, and most of the rest of the morning and early afternoon was enshrouded in fog, mist, and outright rain. We kept swapping places with two nice women from Seattle, one of which, when stopping to put on better hiking clothes, unbeknowingly had a huge spider crawl into her boot. They were a distance ahead at one point, in a lava trench, when we heard a scream and I looked up and saw a hiking boot in midair. Seems as if the spider had crawled out and bitten her. We had our huge 1st Aid kit, but she was OK. So pics from this section of hike are few because it was too wet for the camera. I did manage a nice picture of this fern plant named 'Ama'u. It is pictured here in its 3 stages of life. The red is new growth, of which the red pigmentation protects the young, vulnerable leaf from the sun's harmful rays. As it grows, it changes to green, then lastly to grey as it dies.
As we gained altitude, the skies cleared, and we came to Makaopuhi Crater. Its steam vents are still puffing.
The rims and edges near the crater may seem great for photography, but in fact they are very unsteady and there is serious undercutting going on presently.
Then it began to rain and mist again. So back into the holster went the camera, and just in time because we had 2 miles of in-close, THICK greenery, crouching, crawling, muddy, impassably wet, JUNGLE hiking. The foot corridor was no more than 9-12 inches wide and grown in like you would not believe. We got to the outlook for Pu'u O'o, the active vent, and soaked it in. I only wish I could have gotten a better picture.
It was now late afternoon and we had to head back, 7 more miles to go. The suns sets fast in Hawai'i, no matter what altitude you are at, and we knew we had to at least clear the jungle, and, if need be, we could use our headlamps in the open. But we made good time, watching the long afternoon shadows make the ferns in the lava fields look larger and numerous than earlier. Their tenacious grasp in a land that looks more barren than it really is, makes them the pioneers of the environment and life that will eventually rise here. It makes you appreciate the great cycles of this planet. It is a humbling experience indeed to walk upon ground that is younger than you, and it puts into perspective the part we play in a plan greater than us.
As we were about to enter the jungle for the last quick jaunt to the Jeep, we gazed behind, and captured this quick picture:
There, far in the background, was Pu'u O'o itself. The crater peak was emerging from its misty, steamy cloak. It appeared for but a few seconds, and then the ever finicky winds shifted again. Ever so quickly it was back in the clouds. A subtle reminder that this planet spins, breathes, and is alive. And that the lives we as individuals lead are no greater than life itself. This day was ending, night was closing, but the continual process of this planet making itself was continuing on. We are privileged to be alive and to enjoy life. Hopefully we all live our lives to the greatest extent possible and help enrich others at the same time.
Mahalo for reading,
A few more pics are here:
http://fishercat.smugmug.com/Other/Journey-to-the-East-Rift/25182994_qDnMPt#!i=2065834128&k=28FfxPt
See ya in the Whites in October!
