Bowman Windward

Bowman Windward

Posted to OHE on Mon, 9 Jan 2012 by Pete Clines

For years I have driven the Likelike Hwy and stared up at the jagged ridges on the windward side of the Wilson tunnel and wondered if they were climbable. Turns out (at least) one of them is.

During a recent descent of “Bowman East” with August, Duc, and Laredo… I had time to study those windward ridges from above and later from more of a side angle. Coupled with observations made from Ho‘omaluhia below, I picked out a route that had potential. So on the last day of 2011 I set off with Chenay to check it out.

We started from a neighborhood in Kāne‘ohe around 9:30 – late start since the plan was only to “scout” it. With two major obstacles (H-3 and Likelike) between us and the ridge, even the approach required some pre-planning. But a few looks at the topo maps and some common sense in regards to drainage meant we would avoid becoming roadkill.

With obstacles 1 & 2 behind us, the task was to find the ridge I had in mind. Looking up, I was reminded of why it was important not to get on the wrong one. Many of the ridges in this area are razor thin, vertical in spots, and made of crumbly rock. No thanks.

By following muddy pig trails through the uluhe, we soon reached the base of our ridge. Super steep, the hike transitioned to climbing and scrambling right away. While trying to finesse my way above one particularly steep spot, my water bottle popped out of its side pocket and fell to an irretrievable depth. I was angry since that would leave me with only 1.5 liters for the rest of the day. (I usually would be carrying 4 liters for a climb like this, but this was a scout hike, remember?)

Shortly after, the grade was near vertical and the handholds were a leap away from each other, so I dropped rope down to Chenay and coached her up to me. I should mention that her beloved purple Vibrams weren’t giving her much grip, so she was barefoot for most of this time. I cringed at the thought of her injuring her feet (THAT never happens), but I only got the lecture about how she was born here and has tough local-girl feet…

After removing my rope, we continued along a short level section choked with i‘e i‘e. Machetes came out, and shoes went back on. After a brief bushwhack, we were at the base of a steep wall comprised of loose soil, poorly rooted grasses, and the occasional ti plant or similarly frail handhold. Add in a crumbly horizontal rock band for added challenge.

I got stuck pretty good on this one. While Chenay took photos of the incredible views around us, I made several attempts up different routes, only to find myself unable (unwilling?) to ascend further. Getting back down after each failure was taking a toll on my patience and energy, and I became noticeably agitated.

After nearly an hour at this spot, I realized it was coming up on 2 pm. Not knowing what the ridge would be like above, I knew that even if we made it past this obstacle, we might get stranded in the dark. But I also didn’t want to come back another time just to find out there was a deal-breaker above.

Sensing my frustration, my sweet, caring girlfriend pointed to yet another nasty spot and asked, “How about over there?” Turns out she was even less excited about descending the way we climbed, and she was going to MAKE me get us to the top. Not wanting to forfeit my Man Card, I dropped my pack, shoved a hundred feet of webbing down the back of my waistband, and headed up a grassy slope with a ridiculous angle and a potentially sizable drop.

Clawing my way up, I ignored the fact that there was nothing below me to stop my fall if my footing slipped. Somehow I made it to a lesser grade and relaxed. A stunted tree gave me an anchor, and I tossed the webbing down to Chenay. We maxed out the length, but she tied it off to my pack before heaving her way up to the nearly invisible ledge I was coaching her from.

Once she was safe, I hauled up my pack and joined her. We were now committed to reaching the summit.

From here we climbed a dry waterfall chute in a hanging valley. Normally a no-go, but this one had a thin plant layer that worked like a cargo net. Higher up, we returned to i‘e i‘e and other vegetation.

Once back on the ridgeline, we paused to check out the parallel ridge — very impressive, but not one we wanted to be on. 

A bit higher, we could spot the “Witch’s Hat” on Bowman East.

Around this time, we took a break and I asked Chenay what she thought of the hike so far. I ended up hanging a ribbon at that spot with her honest (but strangely enthusiastic) response.

The ridge stayed narrow but manageable. I looked back to see clouds engulfing us. No more views — and no preview of what lay ahead. Past 4 pm now, any surprises would be costly.

At 4:30 pm I no longer felt the wind. With visibility shot, I assumed I was at the summit. Sure enough, I spotted the faint summit swath we had used days earlier. An inglorious finish, but we were safe.

After a second lunch, we headed northwest along the Ko‘olau summit ridge toward a windward descent ridge back to Kāne‘ohe. Sock-in conditions continued, with slips in the mud. We reached the descent ridge at 6:30 pm in the rain.

Railings guided us all the way down. We never turned on headlamps, enjoying the unplanned night hike. Halfway down, the clouds broke and we had killer nighttime views of Kāne‘ohe.

It was New Year’s Eve, so taxis were unlikely. One of the Goonies lived nearby, and Chenay’s son Josh graciously came to the rescue — thanks again! Home by 8-something.

Quick shower, dinner, then back out at 9:45 pm for a fireworks-viewing hike. Despite the fatigue, we still managed some mixed-fantasy-world battling between a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle and Yoda.

Now that’s how you wrap up a year.