Na Pali Coast Hike

 A $134 bill at the superstore and a positive attitude was all I would need for the next 6 days.  My over worn sneakers were a bit sandy from running on the beach but they would do. Stuffed in the side pocket of my dark grey backpack was my charged phone and in the other, a worn out copy of War and Peace by Tolstoy. I was really looking forward to being deserted in the middle of nowhere with no phone service. I only brought it along so I could listen to Incubus – my favorite band at that moment. I was actually working in Hawaii at the time and had a crew of amazing workers, who eventually became my friends. They suggested since we had over a week off, we should go on some sort of adventure.  They had always wanted to go camping on the Na Pali coast in Kauai and this was the perfect opportunity. Without thinking twice, we hopped on a flight from Honolulu to Kauai with nothing but a few pairs of clothes, a toothbrush and some toothpaste.

When we arrived in Kauai we rented a large, white passenger van to fit five of us in and mapped out the closest Walmart. I stocked up on dehydrated miso soup, protein bars which would double as dessert, and a couple of liters of their cheapest water. We filled our backpacks with what we thought would get us through the next 6 days, bound a pop up tent to the top using two bungee cords, and let the road lead us up to a lunch shack. I knew this would be my last real meal for the next few days so I went all out and got chips AND a drink with my sandwich. Living large. After lunch, we drove another hour until we reached the Na Pali coast. This is where we would park the van and depart for our 11-mile hike.

For the first hour I was a trooper. I didn’t mind the fact that my backpack weighed sixty pounds and that I weighed 110. It was the next 9 miles that would be difficult. Yet, each time I was ready to open my mouth and let out a big sigh, I saw something beautiful. Whether it was dolphins jumping in groups in the distance, or mountain goats on the trail ahead of us, I had so much more to be thankful for than to complain about. The trail was filled with the most vibrant greens I have ever seen. I was literally walking through a Japanese rainforest. There was a light mist, which turned into a low fog, bright green moss, and some trees that looked like Japanese cedar. The leaves were big and tropical, and held onto the dewdrops from last nights rain. The ground was a dirty red that would forever stain your clothes. The mountains were lush and welcoming but intimidating because they were so colossal. The ocean was on my right side and if I didn’t pay careful attention to my footsteps, I could tumble down 300 feet and be floating on the top of it. There were extremely steep inclines during the whole trek so you were either struggling, with tight calves, to walk up the mountain, or you were trying to balance your weight between the backpacks - to not go tumbling downhill. We left later in the day than we expected and night was starting to fall upon us. We knew we had to set up camp for the night. At that very same moment, there was a giant rainstorm that almost washed us off of the mountain! When we finally found a place to camp we were so exhausted that we half assed the assembly of our tents. I spent the whole night laying on a rock listening to the sounds of wild boars approaching our campsite.  Although I was scared, I knew they just wanted to figure out what or who we were. I peeked out my tent and shined my flashlight on them. It was a mother with 4 little babies. Since that night, I never ate Kalua pork again.

Instant coffee never really does the trick. I spent the rest of the morning trying to look as excited as I felt - sort of impossible with dark circles around your eyes. The rest of the hike was fairly easy. We found a few rocky lagoons to swim in. It felt great to take my heavy backpack off and stretch my shoulders in the warm water.  Towards the final stretch, we ran into trees with fresh ripened guava and took more than we should have. I guess the karma in that was that I would have sticky hands until we arrived at our destination. To the left were giant mountains. If I’m right, this is where the opening scenes of Jurassic Park were filmed. Another mile and I would arrive at the world’s simplest place. This was God’s country and I was just a guest.

The trail ended and I walked about 60 feet to where I would set up shop. The sand was deep and hot but I knew I would be able to mold it to my body like a memory foam mattress. I made sure to set up my tent and get everything squared away so I could enjoy the rest of the day without that hanging over my head. We set up our tents in a circle so we could try to keep the wind away if we wanted to build a fire.

The nights were cold so we made sure to collect as much wood as we could. There was really no wood feasible enough to last more than an hour so we decided to save it all for cooking. When we tried to light it, it wouldn’t work. All that tropical rain was not working with our planned M.O. Thank goodness for gas burners. Someone in our group had stocked up on these at Walmart. Genius, but it must have been awful to carry! Naturally, I needed hot water to make my miso soup and at this point powdered soup sounded absolutely wonderful. In order to get fresh water, we had to collect it in our bottles from the nearby waterfall. We didn’t have any tabs that would de-ionize the ocean water so we had to trust the 100ft waterfall behind us. I would end up showering, brushing my teeth, and drinking from that waterfall. Amen for that waterfall.

Around the bend of the beach, or so we were told, was the most epic place to fish on the entire island. The guys made sure to bring two poles and promised us they’d catch us some delicious fish for dinner. Fisherman they were not. With bruised egos they would come back to the campsite empty handed. That night we met a couple that permanently lived on this beach. This was their only place to be since they were poor. Nonetheless, they also hated society and the way it worked. I had met my first real pair of real hippies! They were the kindest people I have ever met with some wonderful stories to share. Like the old days – they bartered and traded.  There was a boat that would come to this beach every morning and bring supplies to everyone that lived on the beach. The more I walked around the beach – the more hippies I found, so the supply boat made sense. The hippie couple told us that they would make us a pizza for dinner if we promised to buy them a bag of tobacco. (What we didn’t know was that bag of tobacco they wanted would end up costing $45 – that’s one damn expensive pizza)

I spent the next few days reading my book in a hammock, drawing pictures in the sand, having conversations with anyone who wanted to chat, and meditating. By the last day – we were all ready to go home. No one really wanted to pack everything up and hike back so we took our chances and asked the captain of the supply boat that brought supplies every day for a ride. He told us this was very dangerous, but for $400 he would do this. How did this simple, beautiful place turn into such an expensive trip? Regardless, our boss said he would foot the bill since we kept him entertained for so many days.

Now here is the scary part. The captains of those boats do this all the time for tourists and the coast guard and government has caught on. Essentially, it’s a small business but the captains never claim they make any money. None of us knew this until we heard a helicopter in the distance getting louder and louder. That’s when we get the full explanation and the captain quickly gears the boat, which is a small blow up boat that you would find on a cruise ship, into a cove and puts the engine on standby. He tells us that if the helicopter were to see all of us in his boat, and know that he was transporting us illegally, they would shoot the pontoon part of the boat and it would sink. Holy crap no thanks! The helicopter flew by without seeing us and we set back out into the ocean. About 45 minutes and a bruised tailbone later, we arrived at the beach where we had parked our van. Everyone was tired and famished and I could only mutter one word from my lips: food.