I planned 2 weeks. Stayed 40 Nights. 1 Beach. 11 Miles Deep. How I THRIVED.
Kalalau beach was one of those places that kept finding its way into my conversations. At the time I had a small amount of money and I found a one-way ticket on Alaska Air for $225.00. After a 30-minute flight, a 13-hour layover, and another 5 hour flight, I made to Kauai. I was fortunate enough to have a friend pick me up and host me the first night, especially after that airline experience.
The very next morning I set out with two weeks of food in my 33-pound pack. I hitchhiked my way to the Kalalau trailhead.
Quickly I discovered this 11 mile trail along the cliffs of the Napali Coast was one long series elevation gains and descents. The beauty and excitement still had me running most of it.
After the first 6 miles, the touristy population was no where to be seen.
I had some amazing alone time on these cliff edge trail sections. I don't know why people told me they would be so bad... maybe in a rainstorm.
When I arrived this rainbow appeared to welcome me.
Little did I know this would become my home for the next 40 nights. With blisters on my feet, I set up camp, made some quinoa and beans, and went to sleep. (I lost most of my photos unfortunately but there is a spring fed waterfall at the end of the beach. You can drink from and shower under it, which is where I set up my first camp.)
So how well was I able to thrive out here?
I was able to amass musical instruments, hammocks, an additional tent, and 35lbs. of food even though the nearest store was about 14 miles away walking distance. I never had to leave Kalalau beach/valley . All the while I only spent $20 in the first 41 days of my trip, not counting the plane ticket.
What was my secret?
Basically being considerate of others. Kalalau is secluded but there are some people who have been living there for ten years+. For the sake of where I am writing this, let's just call them whales. The whales over the years see people come and go. They generally like the people who help out bu contributing with food, music, or firewood. There are a lot of people who come there that only bring a small supply of food and run out but they end up staying a long time because they mooch off the whales.
This is Grizz, my whale friend and volleyball partner. He is also the creator of those amazing dutch oven pizzas pictured above. The first way I learned to supplement my food supply was to make sure we won almost every game of volleyball and to collect wood for Grizz from the jungle. He would have a fire big enough to have 4-5 pots cooking throughout most of the day. You can imagine how many thin branches that takes. Can you tell we spent most of our time cooking?
But if I was going to stay here I would need my own food.
The valley was full of hidden gardens, mango trees, a few lemon trees. The beach trails were littered with wild cherry tomatoes, noni trees, plantain grass, and edible flowers. That wasn't my secret though. First some more pictures.
The Secret
Something I learned from living in Big Sur, California and going to Burning Man is that giving to others feels awesome. The hike in was grueling and that stayed with me for a few days. Remember how I said there are always people coming and going? Well, I would see people arriving around sunset almost every day, exhausted. At first, I guided them around the area so they could settle in and it was always nice to meet new people. Sometimes when I was having little community dinner at my second beach camp with friends, I would invite these worn out travelers to come eat with us after they set up camp. These people usually headed out the next day and were over-packed with food since they ate ours. They usually happily gifted us some food. I left 90% of my food when I left the beach, every pound counts on that hike. After I made that connection, I started cooking food for the newcomers every day... even if it was only with my own food.
Use of the Barter System.
Every so often I would be given spam or beef jerky. These were as good as gold to me even though I'm a vegetarian. I had no trouble going up to a whale with pounds of food and trading it for a bunch of honey and rice. I could then use that food to continue the cycle. Soon I had a huge garbage bag full of food. I would hang it from a rope so the mice wouldn't be able to get to it.
How did the Whales come around their stockpiles of food?
(In case you ever desire to become a Kalalau Whale.)
Once a week or every other week, you could pay Captain "Name won't be mentioned." $10 to drop of a 35lb bag of food by boat. He would come by in the morning and drop them in the waves. You would see 20-30 bags washed up on the beach and all the whales would emerge from their hidden camps from deep within the valley. Lots of them even had messengers so they didn't have to leave their camp. I would give the overnighters an email address and a message so that I could let my family know I was okay since I basically disappeared for 40 nights.
The Valley
The valley is where I would spend most my days when I wasn't reading, playing music, or MacGyvering basic amenities like adjustable oven racks and sandals. I found solitude in the jungle. Eventually, I made my third and final camp underneath five large mango trees. My camp was up on terraces, which the Hawaiians originally built to grow taro root before the valley was air seeded by the Robinson family. Supposedly there didn't used to be any tall trees.
Today the jungle is full of mango and java plum trees. I would walk on the paths until they faded away higher and higher up the valley toward the back wall. Now the back wall has tall tales, where only a select few have made it over.
Each day I found new magic spots in the valley as I explored. I found hidden waterfalls, Swiss Family Robinson camps, and a labyrinth.
Every time I came back down the to beach I would feel a little sad that I didn't make it to the back wall. Toward the end of my stay, I met Shane from Santa Cruz, CA. During Shane's five-day fast, I rallied him to make to the back wall with me and I also convinced him to take Lucy along with us, who he hasn't seen in years. As we neared the top after about three hours of hiking, we encountered wall after wall. The whole landscape changed into what felt like a mystical, foreboding force that was ever so gently pushing us higher.
The Wall and the Point of No Return
Almost peaking out on my barefoot pilgrimage to the top was a waterfall, which carved out a little bowl where the ground flattened out. We took a short break and I noticed a goat trial on wall/ridge to the left of us.
Very shortly after we ascended the goat trail we hit the point of no return. I was standing on a blade of the mountain as wide as my two feet with a 50-foot drop on either side of me. To go the last 40 feet would require us to climb up and over to the top. While I was sure I could go up, getting back down was another story. The sun was close to setting. I realized I only had the clothes on my back, a waterproof/compass/flashlight/whistle/magnifying glass thing, no money, food or shelter. The famished Shane and I had to swallow our egos and make the decision to head back down. Reality is a fine mistress, and the idea staying the night at 4000 feet elevation with no shelter and then hitchhiking around the entire island to do the 11-mile hike back to camp just didn't seem worth it. Sorry.
Wrapping it up
This place was amazing in the true sense of the word. I learned that I can provide for myself out in nature, and what it means to be alone without the need of anything except your wits. I made friends, learned to sing in front of people, and was able to better myself in my own social shortcomings. It gave me the understanding of how much effort goes into creating amazing food and how not to be greedy even if you were hungry. There was only so much to go around. I feel as though I have to make a part two explaining all the types of food we made; like fresh mango chutney. I made chocolate and played volleyball almost every day!
(You can see the net in the background of the cover photo)
I connected with amazing people, one of which lived in my small hometown for years and I never knew him.
This guy!
A whole other story in itself.
I will mention that a cave was hidden around the last wall of the beach in the wintertime and showed itself as the beach grew in the summertime. In the back of the cave, I found a sandbar where a little crack leads to a completely dark circular room. I loved just sitting in there with the cool air and letting my mind run wild.
At the end of my hike back to civilization, we were greeted by this.
And finally some pictures of the space and the things I made. Aloha.