How I almost died

The day started out beautifully. Met up with my friend and former boss Brent Johnson. We walked the Poipu Beach with his sister Jenny and caught the sunrise. Then we swam in the resort's lazy river that winds throughout the hotel. Posh and serene, a good start to a promising day of solo exploring the island of Kauai. 

Having hiked the 8 mile Hanakapi'ai Falls trail the day before; I ventured to the western part of the island.

The breathtaking Waimea Canyons were calling my name and I knew there were various trails off of the lookout points. 

The Canyon Trail was marked to be 1.8 mile one way with a couple scenic side trails. All in all about a 5 mile hike. 

At 10:20am I started out tentatively; not sure how far I'd go on my slightly tender ankle, twisted from the day before. The hike was invigorating. I even found myself jogging down certain parts.

The thrill of wild nature and rough terrain intoxicated me! Each fork in the road I choose the more difficult route to test my endurance. On the main trail I ran into only 3 other couples. After the split onto Black Pike Trail, I didn't see another human for 6 hours. 

The Black Pike trail was just a narrow path along the side of the mountain with jaw dropping views of the canyons. Literally had to force myself to put my camera away so I could focus on not falling off the edge. 

This trail was only supposed to be .5 miles and it dead ended into what I believe is the Halemanu Road.

It was an old dirt road used by mountain bikers and it skirted along the ridge of a mountain. Excellent tree cover made the sun bearable and gave the perfect fall setting. 

Knowing that the canyon trail was so short I decided not to back track to finish it and instead decided to follow this unknown road. It went on for probably a mile or so and then dead ended about midway down to the valley. Just past this dead end, I noticed a path leading further down and it looked like it had been fairly used. Looking at the time, I'd only been hiking for an hour and twenty minutes. Plenty of time to explore and still make my way back. 

The blazed trail led me down a ravine and to a stream that ran through the mountain. A canal had been built that channeled the stream through tunnels and there was a gentle walkway alongside.

Wild flowers were blooming everywhere and the sunshine peaked through the trees. Picturesque and remote, I knew that I was the only hiker in the area. So overcome with amazement of where I was I started singing "God of Wonders" and for the next hour or so continued singing praises out loud. 

I followed the canal and subsequent trail for a least another mile as it went past another mountain. There was a thinly defined path that met up with the tunnel on the other side. 

Eventually I reached a dam of sorts with a wooden platform and ladder.

Swallowing my fear of heights, I crossed the platform and left the river behind. 

This is where the trail got a little less traveled but still I could clearly see the way. Finding a couple good walking sticks I managed to maneuver over slick rocks and mud covered with leaves. 

The trail led around, up, and down; the lush feel of the jungle and its aroma all around.

Looking once more at the time, I had just enough time for one more climb to the peak. Hoping for a view beyond the dense forest, I climbed to the very highest spot. 

A camp grounds of sorts could be discerned in the undergrowth.  Remains of camp fires and a cleared out spot for a tent that overlooked the canyons below. A dream instantly took root, to return to this spot one day and camp as well. What could be better? 

It was sitting here that I took my lunch break of grapes and a granola bar. It had taken me 3 hours to get here and I took stock of my supplies. 

My water was less than half a liter. Just enough to wet my whistle on the way back, but I would need to conserve it. I also had one remaining granola bar, a packet of cookies and some grapes. If all went well, I wouldn't even need it. Before heading out, I did some stretches and yoga poses. Ready and limber, I began my return trip. 

Following the ridge, I started my decent but it didn't look familiar. So I retraced my steps back to were I'd rested. There was only way I could have come so again I headed down. There was a clear path down but when I reached the bottom I wasn't exactly sure which way I had come. There were a couple splits of possible routes and all looked viable. I followed a couple and kept reaching dead ends and having to back track.

I looked at the google map on my phone and while there was obviously no service. It was able to give me my compass direction and show me where I was in relation to the Waimea Canyon Trail. It looked to be about a mile away if I could find it. Following my bearings I headed northwest and could hear the sound of water. My stream I had followed on the way in? I hurry toward the sound and peer over the edge. Dense jungle surround me. There's a stream down there and I need to cross it. But there is no way through. 

The trail I need to find winds up north before heading west. I'm directly parallel with it and could either head west to meet it at its end or head north from my position and catch it later on. My way west was blocked so using my google maps I headed north. While uphill the trees were easier to walk through and animal trails were everywhere. They were what I followed, hoping I'd find a way over the stream. 

The more I followed the meandering paths, I started to notice distinct hoove prints. My knowledge of wild boars is scant, but there a very few mammals on the islands that would be that size and many of the paths led to undergrowth impassable to me. Each time I had a glimmer of finding a way out, I would find myself surrounded by thick briar and bramble. Thorns grabbed at me every which way and my skin tore on my exposed arms and legs. My only protection was a straw hat and the backpack. My songs became louder as I realized that if indeed there were wild boars nearby, I wanted them to know I was coming and not startle them. 

As the situation became more helpless, instead of giving up, God gave me courage to stay positive and keep pressing on. I began talking loudly in funny accents and giving myself pep talks just so I wouldn't give into despair. For the jungle had me trapped. 

At one point I had the idea of seeing if instead of crossing the stream, I could just walk the rock bed and follow the water until I could find an opening on the other side. This worked well for the first couple yards but then my way was blocked. I had gotten wet in the stream during process and with that the possibility of getting Leptospirosis!! All around me were thorns and dense vegetation that were beyond the strength of my walking stick and I. The ground was trampled by boars and ginger roots that they had burrowed out of the ground. This was a main traffic area for them and the tracks were recent, I was not in a safe place. I turned around looking at my options, close to tears, "God, you said there would be a way out. There is always a way of escape! Where is it? I just can't see a way out of this?! I really really need your divine intervention right now." 

I had tried to force my way through the briar and had so many scratches on my legs and hands, I seriously looked like a stigmata or a cutter who'd had a complete melt down. 

my next course of thought was. Ok, going forward has gotten me no where. It's afternoon already and the sun will be setting soon. I've only got a couple hours of day light. Even if I can't make it out today, if I can at least get uphill and away from the boars hunting grounds and maybe even back to where I had lunch...then I can get out in the morning. So I head back to the best of my ability, crossing circle after circle I had made earlier. Trying to remember land marks and everything looking the same. And that's where I stumbled across my lifeline!!! 

There right in front of me was a pink ribbon marker and two Pepsi cans on sticks stuck in the ground! In a world devoid of humans, it was like a neon flashing sign!! Hope surged through me like caffeine and I could hardly contain the joy of finding a trail. I pass through the marker and look to see where it leads. 

Nothing. A wide area of about 5 possible ways to go and no clear sign. I start scouting the area looking for further indication that someone had been here. Thinking, was this some cruel joke? 

Then I saw it, there in the dense vegetation someone had taken a machete and hacked their way straight through to the other side!! I could kiss who ever had come this way months before me, my joy bringing me to tears!

The trail this good shepherd had left took me in the exact direction I needed to go to catch the Waimea Canyon trail. If only I could keep to the same path they had taken. At first it was an obvious path and it took me over the stream and to the other side, but then the forest thinned out and it was harder to tell. I seriously felt like a Native American as I tracked the trail by a few branches broken just so here and there. 

Steadily I made progress uphill and northwest. Ahh there was hope! I was overwhelmed by emotion but I had to push it aside and press on, I wasn't out of this yet! 

My uphill trail eventually dissolved and no part of searching turned up another path. Ahead of me the rain had made a gully large enough to hike up and so I choose that direction. In the dried gully I found a wild boar femur bone and snagged it as a souvenir. Just past that I crested the hill, struggling with all my weight on the hiking stick, and there was my trail. The one I had been on hours ago! It was part of the Black Pipe trail and that meant my car was only an hour away with plenty of daylight to spare!!! Praise God!! I had been completely lost for over 3 hours and had found a way back!!! Wow. Words can not adequately describe how this experience has shaped me and will forever change me.