From Crawler’s Ledge to the Kalalau Beach, the trail carries you through fluted green hills, glimmering under the golden sunlight.

This is the second part of a 2-post account of my backpacking trip across the Kalalau Trail. If you haven’t done so yet, read Backpacking the Kalalau Trail: Part 1 before reading the rest of this post.

Crawler’s Ledge to Kalalau Valley

About 3 miles after the Crawler’s Ledge, you’ll come across the sign for Kalalau Valley. Be ready for the most breathtaking view of your life when you turn the corner from the sign. I just stood here for 5 to 10 minutes. I couldn’t talk. I truly felt that if I died at that moment, I would have nothing to complain about because life felt complete. I realized how truly blessed I am to have traveled so much and make it to this wonderful place that most people in the world will never lay their eyes upon.

From here I ran and ran. I was so happy to be alive and there. This same flight of pseudo stairs that I was running down would prove to be a total morale and energy killer the next day (more on that in a minute). I found a Java Plum garden. We call these Jamun in Pakistan and I was so excited to find so many Pakistani fruits here, including Guavas. If you run out of food, rest assured you won’t starve.

The last stream we crossed is the Kalalau Stream. There are no signs here and it took us a few minutes to figure out where we were going but you basically cross the stream and then go right. You will instantly see the trail there. I think to get to the Kalalau Valley you can go left after crossing the stream and then keep following it upwards until you get to the valley. We were going to do a day hike to the valley, in our original plan, but that was when we were going to spend two nights at the beach. Now we only had one night and the possibility of exploring the valley was gone.

From the stream, walking for about a mile will get you to the beach. My advice on setting up camp is to go as far out towards the beach as you can on the trail and then pitch a tent under the first campsite that you can find right next to the trail. This will let in some air and keep your tent cool. It will also give you the sound of the ocean waves in the background and help you go to sleep at night. This was the most solid sleep I’ve ever had in a tent.

Kalalau Beach

I could write a whole post about the few collective hours we spend on this beach. The golden sand, a waterfall forming a puddle on the beach that flows straight into the ocean, sea caves, insane waves, beautiful cliffs in the background and the friendliest bunch of chill people I have ever met. This sounds too good to be true. But this place exists. At the end of the Kalalau Trail.

It seems like a lot of people just come here fall in love and set up camp forever. Although settled here illegally, there are quite a few of such people. They seem to be nice and harmless. They were also welcoming, unlike the threatening, possibly psychopathic resident of the Hanakoa Campsite. [I hope you’ve realized by now that the threat level was probably exaggerated in my mind because I wasn’t in the best state of mind at the time ;-)]

Someone rigged an interesting PVC pipe contraption that directed water from the falls through a pipe so it could be collected for drinking/filtering. Or you could just sit/stand under it and take a shower using some biodegradable soap that you were hopefully smart enough to bring along.

Standing under cold water never felt so good. I almost stopped feeling sick. I took the opportunity to walk the entire length of the beach and then attempted to draw the beautiful scenery but didn’t quite finish it.

Sunset here is quite a ritual. Everyone gathers on the rocks or the beach and watches the sunset in a silent communion. A guy pulled out his bamboo flute and played a magical tune. Straight out of a movie.

My husband stayed to see the stars and swears he saw the Milky Way clearer than he had ever seen, but for me sleep was all that mattered. As I put my head down, I looked at the two stars visible through my tent window, and drifted off to the sound of the waves crashing on the rocks.

The Hike Back

I can’t tell you how much I did not want to head out the next morning but changing plans would have cost me a lot of money. Morning came too soon but we dragged our tired bodies out of the campsite by 8 or 8:30 am. We wasted half an hour getting across the Kalalau Stream, as going back the way we came was almost impossible. If we had water shoes on, we would have just waded across but it in an attempt to stay dry, we hiked upstream and then climbed over giant boulders, passing our backpacks to each other. Looking back on this silly attempt to stay dry now makes me chuckle. If only I had known about the rain that awaited us.

By the time we got to the steep climb out of the valley area, the sun was high and hot. We were running late. When we got to Crawler’s Ledge, dark clouds moved in and I felt raindrops on my skin. My heart skipped a beat. If there was one thing I wasn’t prepared for, it was crossing that area in rain but we sped up and covered the mile before it started pouring. For the next six and a half miles it rained and it rained.

We passed Hanakoa Stream with less difficulty than I had expected but another fairly fit hiker was not as lucky. She slipped and went waist deep into the water, but her companions pulled her and her belonging out before they were carried away by the fast flowing water. Eventually, we were slowed down by the slog that we had to walk through. The whole trail had turned into a mini stream. We ditched our rain jackets because they were making us hot. Our pants were drenched, anyway.

After about 2 hours of walking in the rain, my boots gave up on trying to be water resistant. There is nothing more uncomfortable than water sloshing around in your shoes for hours as you walk along. I called it an adventure and just trudged along. But I truly wished at this point that I had listened to the sage advice and worn my self-bailing shoes. 

The more mud and rain I encountered, the more I worried about crossing the Hanakapi’ai Stream. It was good, in a way, as it made me walk faster. A couple of hours later, the moment of truth came and my heart sank as I found the rocks we had climbed over on our way in, barely poking through the surface of the fast flowing water.

Other hikers were gathered here too and after careful consideration, we all formed a line and one by one stepped into the cold gushing water. I am 5’7″ and the water was up to my mid thighs at the deepest point. We forgot to turn the GoPro on as we were crossing the stream but we stuck around to help guide the people behind us. Here is a small snippet from that little adventure.

The last 2 miles were all about just making it out. They were hard and our legs were fried. When we eventually made it to the trailhead, I had a hard time taking my pack off and sitting down. It felt strange to not be on my feet. As I took in the cold and wet end to this superbly epic and extremely painful journey, I knew I had made an incredible memory for myself.

Was it worth it and would I do it all over again? Heck yes!

Lessons Learned

What’s the most painful thing you’ve ever done and felt it was so worth it that you would do it all over again? Discuss in the comments, below.