With each step, I feel like my boots are made of lead. Delirious from exhaustion, my consciousness has hit an all time low. The surrounding landscape that was previously vibrant is now distorted and blurred. The late afternoon sun has caused my vision to go hazy and my mind to throb. Focusing on the dusty red trail ahead, my peripheral vision catches glimpses of the pounding surf hundreds of feet below me.
Stopping, I attempt to wipe the sweat out of my eyes only to further spread it across my face. I resaddle my backpack while cinching down my waist belt to try and alleviate the straps from chaffing my shoulders. Josh stopping to drink some water looks exhausted too. He gives me a look that seems to ask "what are we doing?" Reassuring him with silence, I continue my personal battle with exhaustion and push onward.
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| We will become silhouettes |
We started hiking at 5:30am. An eleven mile trail that winds its way along the island's edge to the sacred valley of Kalalau. Along the way steep cliff sides plummet into the ocean and waterfalls seem to fall from the sky into the dark depths of the valleys. The salt spray from thundering waves hundreds of feet below casts a misty aura around the edge of the island.
Judging by the sun's height over the ocean, it's around 4pm. We've been hiking for over ten hours due to a slow pace and backtracking. It's been a long day for us and it's beginning to dampen our spirits. "What are we doing?" I ask myself.
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| These boots were made for walking - California, Central America, A Road Trip Around The US, Alaska, Hawaii |
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| Just a stones throw |
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| Smooth sailing |
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| Exhaustion |
Heading downhill towards sea level, the blood red dirt gives way to a dense forest of tall shrubs and spindly trees. As the trail narrows, glimpses of sunlight are cast through the underbrush tunnel. The branches reach out like fingers and catch my backpack as if holding me back from whats ahead. A couple tugs set me loose and I march onward. Soon the brush gives way to pink, orange, and red flowers. The floral smells lure me farther down the trail similar to how Icarus's curiosity of the sun brought him to his demise.
Ahead of me, Josh steps out of the forest first. Stopping in his tracks to take in the view, he puts emphasis on each word.
"No. Fucking. Way."
Stepping out of the wardrobe into another world. It's as if we stepped into a land that belongs to gods. Ancient Hawaiian terraces stand like massive steps built for ancient deities. Covered in moss, each stone still rests in place from hundreds of years ago and stand ready as if waiting to be revitalized.
Kukui nut trees stand old as time, twisted and knotted below the prehistoric cliffs. The mystical spires that surround Kalalau rise out of the ocean like fossilized shark teeth. Their razor sharp points lost in a mysterious halo of clouds.
The beach gradually turns from stone to sand where we are greeted by a naked man hairy enough to be a fuan. Setting our packs down, Josh and I cross the sandy strip of land where a waterfall crashes onto the edge of the beach. Perched on rocks, Odysseus's sirens bathe beneath the waterfall visible to wandering eyes.
Josh and I sat on the beach and watched the crashing waves in silence. The setting sun cast a glare upon the sea helping to illuminate the spires behind us. Like the evening glow, our time here out at Kalalau is ephemeral but even then, we briefly got to stand in the realm of gods.
Breaking the silence Josh says with a tone of awe, "No. Fucking. Way."
"Yeah, I think you got it right."
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| It's the magical mystery kind |
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| We were born before the wind |
