How to get lost in Mo'ole Valley

How to get lost in Mo'ole Valley: A Primer

Posted to OHE on 29 May 2001 by Stan Yamada

I got lost (disoriented?) in Mo'ole Valley the other day. But it's all Lisa's fault. If she had come with me like she was supposed to, I wouldn't have gone off the trail, I wouldn't have refused to backtrack, and I wouldn't have taken all of those tumbles. So this is an open letter to Lisa to tell her about my day.

Lisa, you wanted to see waterfalls during your short visit here. I decided on the Mo'ole Ditch Trail as my son had taken other novice hikers there without incident. I myself had never been there before. So I pulled out the maps, used the OHE search engine, and studied the route. No problemo. Until you bailed that is. So, of course, having done all the homework and getting all worked up about going...I went anyway. As I promised, you can now hear all about my adventure and follow along with the pictures I took on the trail.

The trailhead is on Pali Highway near the northern end of Nuuanu Pali Drive. I parked near the hunter check-in and crossed over the highway to a chain-link fence. A dozen yards north is a hole in the fence with a State sign indicating that hunting is by bow and arrow only. Great. Can't hear the hunters until the familiar "thhhippp" of an arrow impales your torso. Luckily, I don't know of any Blaze Orange Nike Shirt wearin' pigs, so I should be OK.

According to the directions, I should find a nicely marked trail. Sure enough, it's a highway heading south. The trail is clear and dark. Towering trees line the path. Various trails weave in and out among the foliage. Soon I came upon the Mo'ole Ditch which used to feed the reservoir across the highway. It's very dry today, but stands ready for the occasional flood. The place is beautiful. Huge palms, ferns and Garden of Eden-like settings. I take photos. Birds everywhere singing their praises to the heavens. A truly magical place in an idyllic setting. You would have loved it.

The trail follows the ditch with some ups and downs, but not much. Shortly I came upon a tunnel emerging from the rock. Adventuresome hikers may wish to take the low road by hunching over and turtleing through that nasty thing, perhaps 5' in diameter and a hundred yards long?

 I had a flashlight. I would have, if forced to do so by the need to display a manly disposition. Having no audience, I chose, mind you, to take the scenic route up and over the hill. And I was glad I did. At the top of the rather slippery slope (not aided by my choice of footwear...laced canvas Topsiders for rockhopping), the views open up. Magnificent scenery to the south as the city of Honolulu is seen nestled between the descending ridges of the Koolaus. Abundant greenery and a rainbow appears. I think of you and what you are missing. The familiar Norfolk Pine Forest to the left and towering palms to the right. I turn to face uphill and see a peak which might be called "Makuku" on the map, partnered with a lone palm over 50 feet in height. You see it in the picture.

For a second I lose the trail. Several to choose from and I take a couple before spying a ribbon to the right. Ahhh. Now is where you turn north again to access the valley. I take the trail and descend. Edging along the side of the hill, the sunny ridge is left behind and I am once again in rainforest. Moisture hangs in the air and the birds sing, oblivious to their earthbound companion.

Faintly, faintly, I begin to hear the whisper of a babbling stream. Mo'ole Stream. The source of the waterfalls I seek (seven in all according to the narratives). Rather slippery again here as the trail is thin and wet. Well placed guava trees assist in the descent to the stream bed. Finally, down at water level, the stream is narrow and cute. Not much rain lately I guess. That's ok, I'm having a blast and it makes the crossing easier. Here, I take several off trails trying to make my way up the stream. I should have just stayed on the right side as that seems to be the best way, although the left side is good too at spots. No ribbons here so I'm on my own, but no fear, can't get lost if I stay with the stream. It's easy and fun rockhopping with a few mosquitos, but I didn't get bitten once. Now comes my first fall. Not paying attention, I slip on a rock. Splash!! Fooled you, just my pack. I'm glad I waterproofed it with some Nikwax. I rest to get my composure back as I curse my Topsiders for failing me, but thank the gods for sparing my behind...this time.

I continue a short distance and catch my initial glimpse of the first waterfall. Neat! A little 20 footer with a small pool at the base. Pretty good flow too considering the small stream I had just followed. The pool is too shallow to really swim in, but I wade a little to cool off the dogs. I take a drink, enjoy the view and rest. Off to the right, the trail continues upward. Very easy hike so far. The trail continues a ways until the next falls. This one is a lot taller, but today is just a trickle down a broad vertical face. It is concave and say 50 feet tall. Moss-like growth line the sides of the rock face. Looking up you have to practically lie flat to see the top where the trickle emerges. The pool is deep near the base of the falls, but I decide against a dip. I want to get back so I can develop the pictures for you. The other 5 falls will have to wait for another day. It's only been an hour, so I have lots of time.

I turned back downstream and began what I thought would be an easy hike back. Wrongo Buckwheat!! For some silly reason, I ignore the red ribbons marking the ascent back to the ridgeline. I can't believe that is the way back. Too soon I think. It must be the trail going up to the summit. I want the trail contouring around near the base of the ridgeline so I continue hugging the side of the valley wall about 20 feet above the stream. Eventually I realize that I'm just on some pig's idea of a shortcut to the water cooler. So I work my way down to the stream thinking that I'll work the other side for a while since I see a trail there.

The other side is great, wide and clear. I come upon a big mud pit. Now this is pig heaven! Even though I know I didn't come this way before, I figure to follow the trail until it crosses back over again and picks up the trail heading back north. For some reason, I still think that I know where I'm at. The error of my ways becomes apparent as I eventually get stuck in the middle of nowhere with no stream and no trail. The canopy engulfs me and I now see that the trail is somewhere...just not here. I goof around awhile, not really worried as I am a bushwhacker by nature. Why did I leave my machete at home? Why haven't I bought another compass yet? Never again I mutter. This is stupid. I can hear the cars on the highway so I edge thataway. I come upon a near vertical wall covered in ferns and dead wood. I bust out my "claw technique" to climb the wall. Simply dig your toes into the soft earth as you climb and fall forward digging your "claws" into the earth to drag yourself uphill. You gotta do this if you're wearing flat-soled shoes instead of your high top softball cleats trying to do a 75% grade covered in damp, loosely rooted ferns.

Hooray, I finally get to the top and I'm at the original ridge junction where I first lost the trail, but later spocked the ribbon, remember? Nooooow, I'm ok I think. Can't get lost now I reason. Buckwheat strikes again as I take the wrong path down and get turned around again. No worries I think. Just contour around and pick up the ditch and I'm golden. Except I can't find the dang thing no matter how much I try. I have to use another of my techniques. The "human machete" style of hiking where you dip your boonie hat low over your eyes, aim for any gap in the trees and let gravity work for you. Chest high weeds, hah! Bramble thickets, whap! I bust it all down and survive with very few scratches. I'm getting mad now. What kind of a half-ass mountain man am I anyway? But still no ditch. I jog left. Nothing. Right. Same thing. Meanwhile the cars keep mocking me in the distance. Whatever. I'll just blaze through to the highway. And that's what I did. Oh yeah, I fell a few times too. Rested a few times thinking that this is fun anyway. Noted that my water was running low and that it was time to get serious. I don't need no stinking trail. Not here anyway. I finally found the ditch near the fence after climbing through numerous downed trees and brush.

I emerged from my own private hell about a half mile or less south of where I had entered. On the way back uphill I exchanged shakas with some hunter dudes who saw me as a fellow outdoorsman. If only they knew. But what if they did and were laughing behind my back? "That's the guy we saw walking in circles and falling on his butt all the time." I put my head down and hide in my hat so they can't recognize me if they see me again. I look down and see that I am covered in mud. Good grief.

So Lisa, you may be the coolest chick I've met in a looong time, but you shoulda come with me and saved me the humiliation of writing this story. I will never mock someone who gets "disoriented" on this island again. Next time, I will indeed just backtrack to the ribbons like I should have to begin with. I would have if you were there.

sky 5/28/01