I Got Scooped

June 8, 2008 | In Hiking | 1 Comment

While I strive to be a source of information about the Kalalau trail, I wasn’t able to hike it this year and see the repairs that were reportedly done in the dangerous-looking sections. Another resident, Arius Hopman, hikes the trail more regularly and has finally taken photos, and Juan posted them on Island Breath. Arius is a landscape photographer with a beautiful gallery in Hanapepe (or a gallery made beautiful by his works I should say), his works are also on his website. I don’t know him, but I have seen him at his gallery on Friday Art Night.

While I’m not going to take back all my doubts about the solidity of the work, I do admit the trail looks better. For someone like me who has only been hiking on it for the past 5 years and got used to the roughness, the repaired parts look like a sidewalk now, for better or for worse. It should make it easier for people with a fear of heights to hike past without being paralyzed by the void.

One image shows a “trail puka” (hole, pronounced poo-ka), an “erosion hole in the trail from goats, runoff and hikers who get pushed off the trail by encroaching brush.” They are prevalent in the third mile leaving Hanakapi’ai and in the ninth mile, on some of the steep little valleys leading up to Red Hill. To me, these are the critical maintenance spots because they can easily cause ankle injuries or worse on a steep slope. Plus once the hole starts, erosion just keeps making it larger until it cuts the trail and a bypass is created, causing more erosion. These areas should be high priority for maintenance because the holes are difficult to repair, yet easily and cheaply prevented by cutting the brush.

Wailua Headwaters

May 27, 2008 | In Hiking, Waterfalls | 6 Comments

I wish we knew what the Hawaiians called this place at the foot of Mount Waialeale and Kawaikini, now called the Blue Hole. That name was invented recently by haoles, but I don’t like it because it’s inaccurate and not lyrical. Nor is it the Waialeale Crater, as another purist points out, because it was not the site of an eruption, though it may be the gorge that has eroded out from under the crater.

To further complicate matters, people are starting to call the terminal cliff a “weeping wall,” which is just too lyrical.

Whatever it’s called, it’s a very unique place where a river springs forth at the bottom of a cliff 3000 feet (roughly 1000 m) straight down from the highest point on the island and carves a deep but short canyon out into the eastern lowlands. It’s also a very difficult hike combining 2 miles of slippery boulder hopping and 1 mile of difficult route finding. But it’s always an incredible trek, and I finally took a camera on this hike to share the experience. But first …

WARNING: crossing rivers, boulder-hopping, and swimming in waterfalls are dangerous activities. Rivers can flood quickly and may sweep you away easily or to trap you on the other side. Waterfalls sometimes carry rocks and branches with fatal consequences and the nearby cliffs are unstable. Hiking where there is no trail is also dangerous due to steep slopes and drop-offs. Exercise caution and proceed at your own risk.

For this hike, you’ll need tabis, felt-soled shoes sold at fishing supply stores. The best kind are the black and gray kind that look like little boots–the green sock-like ones are too flimsy. Other water shoes may work but will all slip to some extent on the wet and slimy rocks.

The forest road from the Wailua arboratum ends at the weir at the entrance to the gorge. From there, you just follow the river, alternatively hopping over boulders and walking in the water. Sometimes, there are little side trails in the forest, mostly on the right side as you make your way upstream.

As you progress, you get the feeling you’re entering a very special place, isolated from all the rest of Kauai.

While the forest road passed through groves of replanted foreign trees, a lot of the vegetation here is native, starting with the colorful ‘ohia lehua. I don’t know if it’s true that picking its flowers brings rain, but I do know I didn’t pick them and I didn’t have rain. After what seems like a long time, you reach the first waterfall on the river. Up until now, you’ve seen a few waterfalls on the side walls, but now you have to start climbing over and around them. And you’re only one third of the way there, the easy third.

But what a waterfall it is, with two streams falling into the same pool, and a third flowing in from a narrow gorge, off to the left not visible in the picture below. I call this the three-way convergence, but I’d be open to a better name. The right-most waterfall is fed by the falls you can see above it.

After climbing over the first waterfall, you follow the middle stream of the convergence, which is actually a sidestream to the main stream that carved the gorge. It has some nice little pools and falls of its own, as it collects various runoff coming down the wall to the right side. As you climb over these falls, you get a view of the main waterfall feeding this stream from the top. At around 300 feet, it is probably the most prominent waterfall in the whole gorge.

Now you leave the side-stream and begin the last third of the hike, climbing over several small ridges towards the back wall. From the first ridge, you get a great view of the inner gorge (above). Looking backwards (below) you can see a 4-tiered waterfall, the one that fed the rightmost falls at the 3-way convergence. This picture also shows one of the helicopters that came in to hover for a few seconds and fly back out.

Over another ridge and you can finally see the destination of this adventure, the springs at the back wall that are the headwaters of the Wailua river.

As we finally got close, we had a single ray of sunlight shine on the waterfall making it sparkle.

Of course, I had to go up and touch the back wall, as far as you can go upstream. It just boggles the mind to think that this is probably the oldest rock that you can touch in Hawaii (unless you have a permit to access the Northwestern Hawaiian islands). I like to stand there and imagine a timelapse movie of the rock’s existance: erupted and solidified when the island was half as old as the Big Island is now, covered over by thousands of layers, laying beneath a mountain until tremors and water carried away half the mountain to the lowlands. All that and the rock is only 4-6 million years old, the blink of an eye on the geological scale of the contients.

Also, you can now see the scale of these falls, which are about 40 feet high and 80 feet wide. Most of the water comes from springs above the nearest ledge, some from springs higher up, and a small trickle from all the way at the top of the mountains. Looking up, you can almost see the top, at least the top of the drainage coming from near the summit.

On the hike back, I was less distracted by the waterfalls and focused on the faint path that led over the ridges. It was easy to get lost in places, but the occasional trail blazer proved to be reliable.

Even so, the worn path is not easy, here going up a very steep incline with only a few hand and footholds. More dangerously, the path crossed above some small gorges on tiny ledges half hidden by vegetation.

Finally, if anyone knows of the Hawaiian name for the Wailua gorge and back wall, please share it because I would love that it be reinstated. “Headwaters” translates as Waipo’o, which is the name of the waterfall at the head of Waimea canyon, I doubt it’s just coincidence that both languages have the same imagery.

The fine print: The information and photos in this article are for illustrative purposes. For example, some photos are taken from side trails, so you can’t rely on them to find a route. If you do not have extensive off-trail and backcountry experience, please find a local guide or hike on a maintained trail.

Kalalau Articles

March 17, 2008 | In Hiking | No Comments

I’m running out of titles for Kalalau-related content. I could update the Kalalau Trip Reports with the following links, but these are more newsy than pure hiking stories.

• First, two old articles about volunteer repairs to the trail last summer and fall. These repairs took place after my previous hike and photos of trail conditions, and I haven’t hiked the trail since to see what changed.

  I’m ambivalent about these repairs. In my mind the trail was passable before, so the work is probably cosmetic to make it look safer. I don’t mean to belittle all the work done, but I do worry about the soundness of the amateur repairs. In other words, if the volunteer did widen the trail with masonry work, only time will tell if it holds up to repeated use. On the other hand, I know some people were intimidated by the trail conditions, and it’s unfortunate when that takes away from the experience. And some repairs by the state tend to be shoddy, and all trails are temporary in the grand scheme of things, so it is more likely a good thing to have the repairs done.

  Interestingly, the first article mentions the need for archeology studies prior to trail work by the state. I know that the state has strict rules and maybe the fact is that being a historical trail itself that crosses some archaeological sites triggers the studies for any work. But I also wonder if they might realign sections of the trail and therefore make sure they aren’t disturbing new sites. In any case, I’m curious to see the repaired trail sections and any plans for the new trail work.

• Then, not to scare anyone, here’s a recent first-hand account of a minor accident on the trail that could’ve been much worse. The author doesn’t say where the accident happened, but there aren’t many switchbacks with view of Kalalau near Hanakoa, so I assume it’s the small valley just at the exit of Hanakoa valley, before the balcony trail. The location is important to me, because I’d be interested in knowing if the eroded trail condtion contributed to the accident, and given that the trail in that area is in poor shape, I’d have to hypothesize it was at least a factor.

  Then, of course, I need to discuss how the hiker could’ve avoided the accident. Although she mentions hiking experience, it didn’t sound too extensive to me. If you go backpacking once a year, chances are you don’t go on difficult trails. Kalalau is a difficult trail, but it can still be done by breaking it over 2 days, especially now that Hanakoa is open for camping near the midpoint and before the eroded sections. She admits that continuing past Hanakoa was overexerting herself. The other lesson, I suppose, is to not be too distracted by the views, and always secure your pack and your own footing when you stop to take pictures, drink, etc.

  I do not fault the hiker for going alone, I think that is still a freedom that should not be discouraged, though you must be aware of the safety aspects in exchange. In the case of the Kalalau trail, this story shows that the risks of hiking alone are not that much greater, given the number of people who do stop to help. People gave assistance and got the word to her family, and rescue personnel hiked in to escort her out. It seems like the system, both formal and informal, for rescuing people works well. There was a similar story in 2006, where an informal chain of good samaritans carried out an injured swimmer by boat (the injuries were much worse, but the person was also doing some extreme off-trail rock-climbing).

• Last, and surprisingly least interesting, is a feature article in National Geographic about the Na Pali coast, including the Kalalau trail. I haven’t seen the print edition yet, but I find the text of the article to be disappointing, and the photos and maps don’t work for me in any browser. The one picture and the thumbnails of the others look impressive, so it seems more like a way of getting pretty pictures into the magazine than a real attempt at covering the issues. I do like their map however, National Geographic always has nice maps:
  
  Source: National Geographic

  Starting with the obvious comparison to Shangri-La and giving only brief and inaccurate explanations of geology and Hawaiian culture, the article mostly centers around the writer’s trek on the trail. And there, predictably, the difficulty is exaggerated, the valley resisdents are stereotyped, and the story of Koolau the leper is told once again. Then the writer goes on to say how the campground is trashed and the ambiance ruined by a boombox. Granted, the “vibe” of the place can change from year to year, and maybe the trash is far more noticeable than when I was there last, but it sounds like the author had unrealistic expectations.

  I am reminded of another misguided travel article about the trail, though not as amateurish because it is, after all, National Geographic. I guess I just have to ask: if a journalist interviews a few people and then writes an article about their vacation, do they get to write the whole thing off as expenses?

Kuilau Ridge Trail Update

March 3, 2008 | In Hiking | 1 Comment

After yesterday’s blog update, today I have news that the Kuilau trail has been “updated.” In my first post about the trail, I focused on the nice views near the picnic shelter at the end. I walked the trail a week ago and some maintenance has made it even better.

The most evident work that has been done is a thinning of trees by the side of the trail, opening up many more views than existed before. This is in the first half of the trail that used to be very shaded, so now it is a little more exposed to the afternoon sun. As much as I’m opposed to “improving” natural areas for aesthetic reasons, I have have to admit I was enjoying the many sights. In the photo below, you can see the trunks and branches that have been trimmed, making a nice view of the green valley and Makaleha mountains beyond.

One advantage to having more light on the trail is that it should dry out quicker and be less muddy. When I looked at the trail again, I noticed that it was very flat and even all the way up. While this trail was never very rutted, it had some places where it wasn’t very flat. Now it’s been graded and some gravel added to make it almost passable by a wheelchair (I did say “almost”).

Similar to what was done on the Moalepe trail further along, I think all this work was done because it is a popular horseback ride from the stables nearby. And since I find it hard to believe that the State did all this maintenance on a trail, I would guess that the stable owners contributed to the effort.

We’ve been having Kona weather recently, where the tradewinds are replaced with Kona winds (from the south or west). This gives different views of the mountains on the east side because now the clouds are being blown over from the other side. I got another picture of Pohakupele, although you can’t really see the distinctive rounded summit in the clouds. This is the peak to the right of the Blue Hole over which it is said the ancient Hawaiians hiked up to Wai’ale’ale. The clouds reveal the deep notch in the north-eastern ridge, and so they probably followed the south-eastern ridge, with appears directly in front of the mountain in this picture:

Because the Kona winds create and push the clouds up from the south, it is clearer over the south shore. In this view looking south, the low point is the Knudsen gap, near the tunnel of trees, and the first major peak to the right is Kahili Mountain.

It’s not that great a picture, and I didn’t really manage to improve it with Photoshop, but I want to include it because it made me realize what is so incredible about the views from the Kuilau ridge: you can probably see 20% of the surface of Kauai from here, and except for the powerline and a few distant antennas, there are no man-made structures visible.

After the good news, the bad news: there was a lot of broken car window glass at the parking lot right at the trailhead. Upon seeing that, we parked 150 feet (50m) further in the larger parking before the river crossing. There is no glass there.

I don’t know if this glass is the result of theft, drug-induced rage or teenage pranks, because this is a popular hangout, and there are jest as many rental cars in each parking. Still, do not leave anything valuable in your car whenever you park at any trailhead or beach, and do not leave anything visible other than worthless items such as towels. You should also hide your guidebook under your seat if you don’t hike with it.

Update: Just to end on a happier note, local reader Erik Burton sent me these photos of hoi, a native wild yam, that can be found along the Kuilau Ridge trail. I’ve seen them before, but never took pictures of them. Hoi (pronounced ho-ee) was a famine food, gathered only when necessary, probably because it is also known as the bitter yam.

The tubers come in all sizes, from golf-ball to large potoato. I think they grow aerially and so you often see them having fallen off the vine and rolled onto the trail. Erik says the vine grows from a large tuber underground, but I’ve never dug one up.

The vine is easily recognizable, with simple dark green, heart-shaped leaves.

Moloaa Trail Maps

February 26, 2008 | In Hiking, Activism, Maps | No Comments

The other post about the trail’s history got too long, so I’ll put the maps and photos in this new post.

I first walked the trail in September 2005, when it’s future was uncertain. I mapped the trail with my GPS to record its exact location. I didn’t blog about the path at the time because the landowner was still claiming there was no path, and should he prevail, access would thus constitute trespassing. I did blog about the charms of Moloa’a beach, although the bay deserves another post and more photos one of these days.

Then I got busy with other projects and didn’t hear about the Moloa’a trail again until last month. The trail had “survived” the permitting process, with the landowner recognizing a trail inland from the rocky shore and rising up to the mid-level bluff. However, there was rumor that it wasn’t the original trail, so I went back with the GPS and a camera to find the original trail again. Without further ado, here is what I recorded:

The faint green trail is the one I recorded in 2005. The red trail is the new one I walked earlier this month, and the brighter green trail is my attempt to find the original trail again, based on the sections that remain and the guidance of the old GPS track. The camera icons correspond exactly to the locations of the photos below. You can download the map with all its features if you have Google Earth installed on your computer.

What I found was indeed a new trail, parallel to the original trail, but 10 to 50 feet closer to the ocean. Normally, I would be excited about a new trail on Kauai, but this is just the wrong trail for all the wrong reasons.

First, the signage. This sign greets the hiker, and while it doesn’t signify an official trail, it pretty much acknowledges that people habitually walk here. However, I’m sure the landowner appreciates the official admonition to “stay on the path,” for the sake of the birds, of course.

Further on, and barely visible above, another sign placed by the landowner says “Please stay on trail, Mahalo.” These signs are strategically placed anywhere it would seem natural to walk in the direction of the original trail. What I found is that the new trail, being closer to the ocean in this low area, is on slightly slanted ground and just doesn’t feel like a good trail. The original trail however, walked by generations, had naturally adopted the “path of least resistance” where it felt safest and easiest to walk.

However, the land owner really doesn’t want people on the original trail. Here is evidence of a deliberate attempt to cover up the original trail: several large branches were laid in the trail such that they blocked the passage, but in a way made to look like overgrown bushes.

The photo above is looking backwards, just after the new trail splits off from the old trail behind the standing tree. It was taken from the new trail, looking at where the original trail used to be between the tree and the rock. The large branches have been placed so that the tangle of branches makes original trail impassible. Searching all the tall ironwood trees nearby, I could not see any branches or stumps where these might have been trimmed from, so I have to assume they were deliberately placed here.

Further on, and still before climbing to the bluff, the two trails almost come together again. I walked up to stand on the original trail, and looking back, I could clearly see the original route. Here in the shade of the tree, the trail was open, but in the distance you can see it was starting to grow over with grasses and shrubs.

The picture below is taken from the new trail in the same area, looking at the continuation of the original trail. You can see the flat tread of the original trail, compacted by generations of feet and resisting erosion. The original trail used to continue between the bright green shrubs and climb to the bluff at the low notch. When I hiked here 2 years ago, there was a short switchback to make the climb less steep, and the trail went through an opening under the taller trees at the crest of the bluff.

By contrast, the new trail was carved out of the rocks and shrubs on the exposed side of the bluff, in a straight, steep line to the top edge. It’s hard to tell the steepness of the trail in the images below, but it’s enough to really start pulling on your calves as you go up. I worry about the erosion on this steep new trail, not for the trail itself, but for the scar it could leave on the slope.

This is the view back down the new trail. You can see the rocks of the previous image at the bottom, with the new trail veering left out of sight towards the ocean and the original trail from 2 images above straight ahead.

Then it gets steeper as it climbs right between these large rocks. This image is also looking back down the trail, after just climbing up 10 feet.

Up on the bluff, which is actually just a “bench” halfway up the full bluff, is where the new trail robs the hiker of all the charms of the original trail. The new trail was created through the shrubs and small trees that cling to the edge of the bluff, where the footing is rocky and not always flat. There are two spots where the trees have not taken hold that afford a restricted view of the ocean. Then, new signs remind the unsuspecting hiker to go back into the thicket:

By contrast, the original trail crossed the bluff much further inland, through the relatively flat, grassy and open area that probably used to be a marginal pasture. The view of the ocean and Moloaa Bay is all around one side, and albatrosses and frigate birds swoop by as the ride the wind over the bluff.

In the picture above, you can see the flat, faintly worn path through the grass as it veers to the left to cross the pasture without losing altitude. Straight ahead in the trees, you can see the new trail sign from the previous picture.

It is obvious to me that the original trail crossed through this grassy area, not at the edge of it. Who would want to walk in the trees when you can be out in the open with beautiful views? As a hiker, I know the open is much more preferrable, giving you a place to observe the weather patterns on the horizon and a nice place to stop and rest. This is what the landowner is trying to take out of the public domain, to increase the “privacy” and value of the planned development.

At the end of the bluff is the makeshift shrine below. It changes every time I see it, as the wind knocks over the piles and people add bits of coral and shells. It is definitely a modern artefact, but I would not be surprised if it were also a site used by Hawaiians, either as a fishing shrine or just a fish lookout.

The new trail arrives directly at the shrine and contines into the trees again on the other side. When I hiked here in 2005, I was intrigued by the shrine and walked down here from the pasture. Thinking the trail might continue from here, I looked for it in the trees you see here, where the new trail is now. But at the time I didn’t find any path and had to walk back up to the pasture to find the continuation around the bluff, a detour you can see on the map of my original GPS track. To me, that is proof that the historical trail went directly through the pasture, not down in the trees as the landowners want us to believe.

Trail Continuation

This post is very long already, but for completeness, I must add two sections about the trail continuation and trailhead access.

The new trail joins the original trail in a wooded slope after leaving the grassy bluff. From here there is only one trail, what I call the original trail from my 2005 survey. However, there is some doubt as to whether it is the historical trail, as I have not heard from the Moloaa kupuna (elders) about their memories of this section.

To see the map below, as well as the archaeological map overlay mentioned below, download my map file and when it opens in Google Earth, expand the contents with the + icon and place a checkmark next to the corresponding folders to make them visible.

From the grassy bluff area, the trail turns out of Moloaa Bay to follow the north-east facing ocean bluff. The slope of the bluff here is moderate, and instead of climbing to the flat area at the top or the rocks at the bottom, the trial crosses the slope on a course with small dips and rises. At first, the trail dips down a little through some overgrown brush (this image is looking back towards the shrine):

The tread of the trail is still very good, so it’s easy to find. Further along, the trail is not so evident as it goes up and down to find passage between the ironwood.

Finally, the trail reaches some large rocks and a tangle of barbed wire that mark the property line. There are some great views of the reef and a little pocket beach in the cove, although Larsen’s beach is hidden beyond the far point.

I could not find the trail beyond this point, even though it is known to go to Larsen’s beach on a similar undefined easement through the neighboring property. Perhaps modern hikers have been enjoying the trail only as far as the great views back at the open meadow, and so the continuation is overgrown. Another possibility is that the archaeological map in my previous post shows the trail dipping back down to the ocean here, not crossing the slope of the bluff.

The historical trail on that map disagrees with my survey in other ways. For example, it crosses the grassy bluff even further inland and uphill from the original trail, but that path would have more ups and downs compared to the flat, controuring trail that was evident in 2005. However, the possibility that the trail went back down near the ocean has two supporting points: the reef does begin below the rocks at the property line, and the trail that was so evident even when overgrown doesn’t seem to continue in the trees. Perhaps the trail did begin to angle downwards through the overgrown area, to access the reef and skirt the rocky shorline all the way to Larsen’s—there is more trail discovery awaiting the adventurous hiker.

Trailhead Access

At the other end, there is also some uncertainty about where the trail begins. To access the trail, you would park along the left branch of Moloaa Rd. and then walk down to cross the stream at the beach. Facing the bay, the trailhead sign mentioned above is at the end of the sandy beach to your left. However, there could be an alternative to walking in the sand:

After a short walk on the beach, you will see a clearing under the ironwood trees with a No Tresspassing sign—this is the same landowner who is developing the bluff area.

Off to the left of the photo above, there used to be customary access to the beach from a county road that crosses the stream further up the valley, but the landowner put up a gate. I think the legal argument is that only the people who had customary access, the local fishermen mostly, would still be allowed, not the general public. I can understand the logic from a property owner’s point of view, but I don’t know if it’s valid.

The slope going uphill to the right used to be the road to access the pastures in the bluff area. I once thought that maybe the historical trail would follow that easy route, but from Google Earth it looks like that road is longer and has more ups and down than the original trail I mapped. And now that road has been cut by some bad erosion in a gully.

However, off to the right foreground of the photo above, is a narrow track that is parallel to the beach, but underneath the canopy of mature ironwoods. The track is mostly used by the land managers who get around on ATVs, but it is a nice path on a bed of ironwood needles, not muddy. Here you see a point where the track goes close to the beach, in fact there is evidence that storm waves wash over the track at this point:

What that image also shows is that it’s much easier to walk or hike on the track. Of course, walking barefoot on the beach is great, but it’s a long beach (almost a quarter-mile or 400m) with many rocks and a big slant at certain times of the year, as shown in the following photo looking back:

If Hawaiians needed to use the trail during stormy weather, it’s likely the beach was awash with waves, and they would have used a path through the vegetation (ironwood were imported and grew later). However, the archeolgical map does not show the historical trail in this area. As it stands now, the landowner seems to be claiming that track as private (and it is mostly above the highest wash of the waves), and the property managers would probably ask you to leave if they found you there. I think it would be a great addition to the trail if this section were clearly opened, providing a firm all-weather path nearly all the way. It would be even better if the old beach access were open again as well, given that the stream is difficult to cross at certain times of the year.

Conclusion

In the end, I think the whole issue about the trail is a question of respect. Does the landowner respect the historical, traditional, and legal rights that come with the land? By building a fake trail that lacks the safety and scenic benefits of the original trail, and then trying to obliterate the original trail, the landowner is showing total disrespect. Property rights are not absolute, even in the United States, and respecting the community and natural envirnomnent where you buy land, speculate, and develop property would seem to me the right thing to do.

For example, the landowners at the Kealia Kai development, just north of Kealia beach, donated the old cane road along the coast to the county. That area can now be accessed easily on the new bike path, soon all the way to Donkey beach, and I hear the owners got a huge tax write-off. I still think the houses being built at Kealia Kai will encroach on the natural setting, but I feel the developer did the right thing by also allowing public access to be improved.

The Moloaa trail has long been neglected by property owners and government oversight, tended to by only a few old-timers and hikers. It’s time to recognize it’s cultural and environmental value and give the public access to one of the few remaining historical trails on Kaua’i, if not the only one, and a beautiful one at that. My dream is that the trail be restored and reopened fully in it’s original path, and that it will become the first segment of a longer coastal trail, perhaps even connecting to the future bike path in Anahola.

Update

Two days after publishing this, I found out more details about how the new trail came to be in those 2 years I wasn’t paying attention (that’s why I’m blogger and not a journalist).

Environmental groups such as the Sierra Club were pushing the landowner to recognize the trail on the bluff in order to fulfill the public easement requirement of the land deed. But getting the state Department of Land and Natural Resources (DLNR) to send out a surveyor to document the trail was proving to be impossible. Pulling a trick on everyone, the landowner quickly had the trail surveyed at his own cost and submitted it to the DLNR’s Na Ala Hele office which manages public trails. Obviously, the trail surveyed was the bad, new one in the trees and on the steep slope, but it was officially accepted over the objections of the Sierra Club.

As a result, the bad trail is now the one recognized by the state agency as the public easement, and there seems to be no recourse. I still wonder if the landowner needed a special permit to create the trail that did not exist before. The other permit applications were dropped recently, so apparently there is not going to be a privacy hedge mauka of the new trail, which is fortunate because it would have obliterated the historic trail.

There seems to be an odd situation here, because the historic trail still has some legal existence. Hawaii’s state constitution apparently guarantees residents of Hawaiian ancestry cultrual and customary access to Hawaiian sites, which if I understand correctly, includes access over private land. So I am told that non-Hawaiians who attempt to follow the historic trail can rightfully be asked to leave, but not native Hawaiians. I wonder what the state’s Office of Hawaiian Affairs would think of the attempts to block the trail with branches.

So it would seem that my dream of having the original trail restored is administratively hopeless. Furthermore, trespassing by non-Hawaiians would just justify the landowner’s claim that a fence or hedge needs to be built, which would destroy the natural openness of the area. So I cannot encourage most people to go looking for the original trail, they risk being confronted for trespassing. But perhaps it can be preserved if people of Hawaiian ancestry are made aware of their right to walk the historical trail and how easily it could be lost.