We did the Kalalau Trail! At 22 miles with over 2000 meters of gain, it felt like an ultra! And not just any ultra: a truly sublime one. The level of difficulty, the elation at the beauty of the natural world, the exultation on surpassing challenges and the profound feeling of contentment afterward all feel very ultra. This is the story of our Kalalau trail adventure, at last!
Trials before trails
I’ve got my mind set on you, KT
Our Kalalau Trail trek was a long time in the making. I don’t remember how we heard of it, exactly, but we became aware of it when we first visited Kaua’i with Kent’s family.
Early one morning, in April 2019, we borrowed a car and set out to drive Kūhiō Highway to the trailhead. But we were soon turned around – the road was blocked; local access only. Unbeknownst to us, 2018 flooding had ruined the road and wreaked havoc on the trail too. Haena State Park, including the trailhead and several baches, was closed for 14 months from April 2018 to June 2019.
It was a no go for us that day. We had no concrete plans of returning to the US, let alone the far flung Hawaiian islands. So we could only dream of returning one day for the Kalalau Trail. But a lot can change, given the time…
Fast forward through a contract in China and the first two years plus of the pandemic. When we came back from Thailand, we knew we couldn’t go back to our half-life in Humboldt. Instead, I lined up a dream job online and a dream home here in Hawai’i.
As soon as we landed, in June 2022, I suddenly recalled the unseen wonders of the Kalalau Trail! But summer season is busy, and you have to get permits 90 days in advance – if you’re lucky. Over the summer months, we focused on other adventures: Mt. Ka’ala locally, Mauna Kea on Big Island, Haleakala on Maui, and even a very relaxy trip to Moloka’i!
But I did not forget about the Kalalau Trail. I kept thinking about when my vacation days and that 90 day permit window would align. I planned for several contingencies: in November, there were a handful of vacation days that would be just right. So, one August evening, I stayed up until midnight to buy the required Na Pali Coast State Park camping permit.
And that was only the first logistical hurdle! The next one was getting a parking pass, which I tried and failed to do early one October morning. Still, we’d been relatively lucky: I did manage to nab us entry tickets and a shuttle. Using public transit would mean our hours would be more limited: we’d start hiking later and need to be finished earlier. But at least we could go! Time to make all of the other trip plans!
Recent adventures on Maui had taught us that there are hacks to be had in this most expensive of paradises. The best of these is to rent a vehicle that’s also your accommodation: so we got another rooftop tent! There are few campgrounds, but we managed to score a spot at Koke’e State Park for the first night of our trip! We also added on two nights at a beach camp to be home base for before/after our trek.
Not so fast…
Still, success was far from a guarantee. I stumbled into reading several articles about the sketchiness of the trail that genuinely scared me. Moreover, the weather for the incoming winter was predicted to be super stormy, this being the third La Nina year in a row. In the weeks leading up to our big day, thunderstorms were predicted every single day. And sure enough, a massive rainstorm in October, just a few weeks before our trip, caused landslides and flooding in the area, and the trail was closed for a few days. It reopened, but we were nervous about it closing again.
My eye on the forecast, I kept worrying we would have to cancel our trip – there was no point in spending money on a repeat trip if we weren’t getting on the trail. Even the car rental had us second guessing our plans: the truck we’d originally rented had a technical problem, and the owner needed to swap it out. It was unclear at first if the tent would work with the new vehicle, and poor Kent had to rebook in the 11th hour.
We persevered, and kept the promise of Kalalau Trail in our minds. I remember going to Kent and reminding him of how long we’d dreamed of this trail. Were we really going to let a few fearmongering news headlines scare us off? Were we really going to let the threat of bad weather stop us from even trying?
And so we went, but with the promise that if it was rainy, we would call it off. This is a fair weather trail, even more than most. Our first night camping in Kaua’i, we woke up to thunderstorms echoing all around us and the sound of rain on our canvas roof.
The day before our trek, we peeked into Kalalau valley from an overlook! It was only a minute before it filled in with cloud. But a happy, confidence restoring little run that same morning reminded me that we can do hard things. My resolve to do this was hardening – come decent weather.
One last hurdle: getting some sleep before our big day. Our beach camp was a bit of a bust: folks revved their cars ATVs up the beach only a few feet from the scant protection of our tent late into the night. We sat in our darkened rental, eyeing one uncomfortable situation after another in the public park next door. But eventually, traffic slowed, and eventually, we did get to sleep.
Our tremendous Kalalau Trail adventure
We work up naturally just before 4 am on November 6th. All we had to do was drive to the trailhead. Mostly. Kent was nervous about water (for good reason, as we’d find out soon enough), so we also searched in vain for an open convenience store en route. Eventually we found a vending machine that had bottled water.
We arrived at the trailhead in the dark, well before the entrance kiosk was staffed. Honestly, I felt a little uneasy among an assembly of beater cars and shiny new rentals and folks standing around smoking or waiting for something. It was still dark, but as other cars began to roll in, it was definitely time to get going!
Ke’e Beach – Hanakapi’ai Valley (2 mi)
The first section of the Kalalau Trail is open to day-hiking without a permit, and is known as ‘little Na Pali’. It gives visitors a brief but scenic glimpse into a wonderful world of fluted emerald spires and glimmering cerulean waters. It’s also known by hikers as the muddy section, partly because so many people tread this part of the trail!
We were so stoked to finally be on this legendary trail! There were stars twinkling overhead in a gloriously clear sky – and the latest forecast, amazingly, predicted it would stay that way. The paving stones were only mildly slippery, and the mud was minimal. We were getting our first taste of the incredible good fortune this day was about to serve to us.
I figured there were maybe a couple of folks ahead of us, but we didn’t see them for the first kilometer or so. We had that all to ourselves. We sprinted along a boardwalk, our swinging headlamps revealing taro growing to either side. It was strangely reminiscent of the parks we frequented in Thailand. There was a chorus of frogs, and before long, we encountered them on the trail! I’ve mixed feelings about them: an invasive species but adorable animal.
And then, we were on the trail proper! We snapped a photo of the state park sign and assembled our poles for our first uphill. It was wonderful, that feeling of adventure. I was planted firmly in the moment, amazed that we were finally doing this thing!
We could hear waves rolling in against the coast below us, and it didn’t take long for us to reach our first viewpoint. The sky was beginning to brighten, and we could see long whitecaps rolling into a little cove. The next few lookouts were even better, with views framed by tropical plants and the sky painted pink and orange with sunrise. Words cant fully capture how awesome this was, especially after having two very cloudy days. We were witnessing a dawn on the Kalalau Trail! It seemed like a good omen for the trail ahead.
The initial climb went quickly, and we enjoyed it. Before we knew it, it was time to descend into Hanakapi’ai Valley! The views as we rounded a corner into the valley were truly spectacular: this is Hawaii’s Lost Coast! We could see far down the coast, with steep-sided cliffs dropping away into the big blue. It was truly awesome: I could feel myself as a little speck of life on our evolving, rotating, precious planet. Such good feels!
On our way down into the valley, we passed a couple and exchanged a few words with them. Then it was time for our first major stream crossing of the day! Slowly, clumsily – but miraculously staying dry, I made my way across, following Kent.
Hanakapi’ai – Hanakoa (4 mi)
On the opposite side of the stream, I took the lead and we began the biggest climb of the day. On this section we passed another couple and also exchanged a few words with them. Every step forward felt more wild and remote, because it was. The Kalalau Trail had narrowed into a definite singletrack, and was more overgrown. The dirt was surprisingly crumbly in spots already, and the exposure already pretty great. I was in a very good headspace about this: I was aware of the potential risks, but felt confident. Most importantly, I felt happy to be there.
I sometimes feel scared in the middle of things and wonder if I’ve gotten myself in too deep. But I can truthfully say, there was none of that here – not this time. Yes, I had wished on a few folded over chips, thought about Dad and reminded myself about my Yak Sant tattoo. Superstitions aside, I’d also reminded myself of our good base of strength and endurance. I’d visualized us on this trail, being happy and successful. In short, I’d done all the prep I could, and now it was time to just do it.
There were surprises! First, that the mile markers continued. We’d thought that this trail was perhaps too remote to be maintained or marked, but we were wrong on both counts. Huge stone markers lined the trail, and we came upon mile 3 during our big climb. There was also a sign reminding day hikers to turn back if they lacked a permit.
Then, most surprising of all, an animal control gate somewhere near the top of the climb! There was even a familiar animal control fence on the near-vertical slope above us. I’m always amazed at these: how do they even install fencing like this on ground so steep?
Another sign here reminded us that we were entering the Hono’onapali Natural Reserve Area, which Kent reminded me actually means hunting grounds. Again, mixed feelings: there are wild goats here that are non-native and destroy the local flora. But although I wholeheartedly support native land rights, I just really didn’t want to see any hunting. Luckily we did not!
We did, however, shortly thereafter see goats! They are amazing on this terrain: casually playing king of the mountain on vertiginous slopes like it’s nothing.
We began to weave our way down, which was often trickier than going up due to crumbly red earth that would suddenly slide away underfoot. But in this initial descent, I was comforted to realize we were actually on a very long series of switchbacks!
This 4 mile long stretch of Kalalau Trail was somehow both comfortable and thrilling. It was thrilling because of just how remote it was, and because the cliffside would sometimes fall away below the plants to our left, with nothing but the open sea below! It was comfortable because it really did feel like the Lost Coast to both of us – specifically the wildness of the Sinkyone section.
I think I read somewhere that this section would cross 5 different hanging valleys, but it felt like more than that. We’d wrap our way around the edge of a ridge, popping out of the foliage for stunning views, then plunge back in to hop over a little stream or streambed. There were different kinds of forest in different valleys: a spot specializing in one of my endemic favorite short trees and another that was like the valley of the pandanus plants.
This turned out to be the most lush section of the Kalalau Trail. It was also the slowest: thanks to lots of up and down, the very narrow trail, and the exposure. But we rounded another bend and suddenly beheld the massive Hanakoa Valley. There was no mistaking it.
We paused for a while at this viewpoint. I soaked up the scenery: the views back where we’d come, the views ahead along the Na Pali, into the rugged valley, complete with a huge waterfall! Finally, we made our way down into Hanakoa.
Hanakoa – Kalalau (5 mi)
The 6 mile marker was just before the first trail camp. And the camp, when we found it, seemed very small. There was just one tent on either side of the river, along with one outhouse and a small shelter with a picnic table inside (how they managed to get that here is anyone’s guess: mine is that the rebuilt it in situ!). We encountered two more humans here: one headed to the loo and another brushing her teeth. It was almost 9 am.
The second river is a bit harder to cross, and a bit more exciting too. For one, it’s not at sea level: Hanakoa is itself a hanging valley. For another, the stream crossing is divided in two by a little island. Someone has thoughtfully added a rope that you can hold for the first crossing as you balance your way along a slippery fallen log. There’s a bit of mud and bouldering in the middle, then the second crossing is an easier rock-hop to the other side.
From there, we knew we were headed to the trickiest part of the Kalalau Trail. The stretch between miles 7-9 is famous for its exposure: the trail here is a thin ribbon clinging to the bare cliffs over a drop of hundreds of meters to the ocean below. I silently prayed that I wouldn’t take one look at it and lose my nerve. We’d come all this way!
At first, this section reminded me of Inje or Humboldt Redwoods. The trail was in a dry forest, crumbling away into a ravine. I had some close calls where I did slip and have to grab a tree, but I was okay. One review I read that said the Crawler’s Ledges weren’t so bad themselves, but rather the red dirt before and after. I patted myself on the back for making it through one of those sections already, unscathed.
Then we rounded a bend. The trail plunged into a canyon and wrapped away on a cliff, out of sight. It stopped my heart. But I moved on, one step at a time. That was enough to focus on, as navigating down the steep switchbacks toward the ledge was tricky enough!
As providence would have it, this is where we encountered our first group of folks hiking out. I’d been slightly concerned about this: would we have room to pass if this was where we eventually met others? But I think it was actually good for my mind to see other people conquering this crazy section of trail. We exchanged a few words as we went down and they went up.
Then, as we were in the crook of the craziest section of trail I think I’ve seen in my whole life, a speedboat pulled into the cove far below. It was vertigo inducing to even look, but when I did, I saw people waving up at me. When I chanced a wave back, they broke into rowdy cheering. I almost laughed thinking about what a different experience they were having in the safe confines of their watercraft, but I was also extremely grateful for the encouragement. The appearance of merry spectators evoked a familiar ultra race vibe that I liked.
I experienced a definite time dilation effect on the Crawler’s Ledges. With one hand on the wall and my weight low over my feet, I crept my way forward, with Kent close behind. In the moment, my world shrank to a single footstep forward. But then suddenly we came upon mile marker 8! I was amazed that mile 7 had passed so quickly. It was not, in fact, so bad!
The exposure continued, but in the miles that followed, it was broken up by dips into forested mini valleys that offered reprieve from the heights. I would recharge and boldly charge out again above the abyss. We passed several more groups through this stretch, mainly couples whom we’d ask about the beach ahead. Again, the next mile passed easily, much more easily than I’d anticipated.
Which is not to say there weren’t moments of heart-pounding alarm over the sideways kant of the trail or the red dirt that slid away underfoot! There were a handful of single steps that were truly terrifying, but as a whole: more wonderful than anything.
I don’t think I’ll ever forget that aquamarine water shining far below, with the waves lapping gently against the contrasting red cliffs. Around each bend, the Na Pali were growing ever more dramatic. It was literally awesome: I was in awe of this place.
So I was on a pretty big high when we reached Red Hill and could see into the amphitheater of Kalalau Valley and the remote, white sand beach below. It was here that I already felt like we’d done it, and could do anything!
In what was probably the speediest section of the whole of the Kalalau Trail, we zipped downhill, crumbly red dirt and all. Midway down, we stopped at the sign that bore Kalalau’s name. Then we hopped over its eponymous stream, found a stray arrow (!) and, at last, ran out onto the beach! It was 11 am and I was over the moon!
Kalalau Beach Break
We were not, by any means, alone here. There were a handful of hikers camped out in the shade of the trees, and a few, more permanent-looking residents too. There was a yoga circle taking place on the beach, and a few nude bathers! We’d heard that this is a big center for hippies, and it was clear that that was true.
The sandy headstand selfies, helicopters whirring overhead and speedboats splashing by were…a little disruptive, I won’t lie. It was surprisingly busy. This was not so much like the Lost Coast, but in its own way, this was kind of comforting too. We stood on solid ground, and we’d arrived somewhere – somewhere beautiful and noteworthy.
Kent was content to merely touch the beach and turn around. But once we were on the beach, I spotted a waterfall at the other end. Plus, I wanted to touch the rock wall on the far side. So I did so: dashing across the beach, high on life and accomplishment. Immediately afterward, I felt content. Accomplished. Ready for a sit.
We found a little spot in the shade and busted out our bonus bottle of water and the salty snacks. It should have been chill, because, despite all the bustle, it was stunningly beautiful. But Kent had lingering concerns about our water reserves, so we didn’t relax for too long.
Kalalau – Hanakoa (5 mi)
We set off slowly on our return trip. It was pretty hard to leave such a beautiful beach! Backing out onto the golden sand, we had incredible views of the steep, fluted cliffs that ring this enormous valley. Some looked like pinnacles; others like castles. It was sublime, and I almost wished we could stay.
Although I wanted to linger, I was profoundly happy to have done what we set out to do. If we could make it to this beach, the grand finale of the Kalalau Trail, we could definitely make it back. We’d just follow the same strategy: one single step at a time!
The first step was to climb Red Hill again, and this is where we had some of our best views of the whole day! Kalalau Valley, the beach and the coastline were laid out before us in absolute splendor.
A few last looks, and it was time to get back on those ledges! We encountered a handful of other hikers through this section, both familiar and not. Now it was our turn to give hikers intel about the beach!
Crawler’s Ledges were easier now that I knew what to expect, but definitely still tricky in spots. It’s much easier to scramble up something crumbly than it is to do a controlled slide down. I once again appreciated all the little forested gullies that gave us brief breaks from the exposure.
The last ledge was definitely the craziest. Turning the corner and seeing the trail slant toward the abyss sent a shiver down my spine. As did seeing two hikers we’d met earlier struggle along it – despite having hiked here before!
But the toughest part turned out to be the goats. They were scrambling around somewhere above us, and every so often a cascade of rocks would tumble down somewhere around us. Once it was in between us. Once it was directly in front of me, inches from the brim of my hat! We had to pause in a few precarious places to avoid getting hit.
At last, we were on the switchbacking climb up and out of the toughest section. Two friendly Aussies admitted to being terrified and asked us for tips. I admitted that I was afraid of heights, and offered up my strategies along with encouragement. Providing tips and reassurance to hikers was about to become a bit of a theme for us.
But first, we had a little bit more to go before Hanakoa Valley. And I was out of water. I thought I’d been drinking pretty conservatively. I have vivid memories of squeezing my backpack to check on my water supply. Somehow, without warning, I drank my last sip. We were 6+ miles from the end, and I only had about 400mL of Pocari left. Instantly my throat was dry. What was worse was that I felt like I couldn’t tell Kent. He’d already struggled with feeling anxious about our water: I didn’t want to add more fuel to the fire, even if he had been correct to worry.
So I made a plan. At the upcoming stream crossing, I’d ask a hiker to borrow a water filter. If there were none, I’d ask a camper. If there were none of those either, we’d wait a while and have a snack and/or soak our feet. We’d only proceed to the next section without water if we absolutely had to. It was probably doable, but the idea was uncomfortable.
Once again, we were incredibly lucky. Running up on Hanakoa stream, there were a trio of friendly hikers refilling their own bottles. They had a ton of extra gear, and were happy to spare a few AquaTabs and filter us some water!
Fresh water is awesome. When our new friends refilled my bottle, I drank it down immediately, crushing it in my fist. I guess I was already dehydrated. We then had the sweet luxury of refilling our bags too. Things were looking up!
Hanakoa – Hanakapi’ai (4 mi)
Re-energized by the long stop and (especially) by the fresh water infusion, we dashed into the next section. We ran for stretches and hiked for others, much as we had all day. We encountered more hikers and dispensed a few tips for managing fear of heights and making progress on sketchy terrain.
Then we dipped into and out of all of the hanging valleys pretty quietly, mostly on our own.
Until, on the last climb, we encountered a couple from North Carolina off to the side of the trail. When we asked if they were okay or needed anything, the woman burst into tears. This day hike had turned into more than they’d bargained for. Kent busted out a map and offered them some morale-boosting shot blocks. After a chat, we climbed on. Later, we’d have our doubts about leaving them behind. But it was only 3 miles to the trailhead, and less than a mile to the river. We knew they’d be safe, but we felt for them all over again!
Thinking of the struggling duo behind us, the climb up to the game fence seemed to take forever. It was a stark contrast to the rest of this section, which I’d thought had been ticking away pretty quickly. But putting myself in the shoes of someone having a tough day of it made me reconsider. However, the highest point truly was close, and then the descent toward the river began!
Kent was eager for a dip in the river. So we plunged in and enjoyed another long stop here.
Hanakapi’ai – Ke’e Beach (2 mi)
This was another part that made our Kalalau trail outing really feel like an ultra. We’d been passed by a couple of ill-shod casuals at the river, and felt determined to catch up. Then there were a pair of surfers carrying their boards on their heads. My competitive side must have been awakened: I somehow couldn’t bear the thought of any of these folks being faster than us trail runners. I picked up the pace: we were really running now!
There were a few slippery bits, now that so many people had walked this section. There was also a sprinkling of rain in the air! It was mostly just sparkly, and felt more like prickles than moisture on my skin. At one of the viewpoints we’d admired first thing in the morning, we were treated to a late afternoon rainbow!
But sunset was fast approaching and we did not linger. I’d rush us on, pell-mell downhill toward the trailhead. As a result, this section disappeared underfoot in what felt like mere minutes!
Although we’d had a beautifully sunny day, the horizon had clouded over, and gusts of strong wind blew rain ashore. Plus, our ultra wouldn’t end at the trailhead: we’d eventually need to get ourselves all the way back down the highway to our camp.
So we kept running. We paused at the trailhead for a victory selfie, then picked up the pace once more for a sprint to the finish line. Back at our rental car, we downed smoothies and I had a delightfully cold coconut water for the drive. A big, bright, almost-full moon rose over the horizon ahead of us as the sun set on the Kalalau Trail behind us.
Apres-trail
It’s hard to put into words just how good it felt to have completed the Kalalau Trail. It was incredible to have accomplished something that scared me! I felt like I was glowing from the inside out. I couldn’t stop talking about what we’d just done. That night, I slept incredibly well. And in the morning, I woke up still on top of the world. This is why we do what we do!
Performance notes aside, I also couldn’t believe how lucky we were, over and over again. Lucky with weather (no rain despite the earlier forecast for storms; a rare blue sky day); lucky with eventually scoring a parking pass to gain a time buffer for our run(I nabbed this at the airport, boarding our flight to Kaua’i!); lucky with sleep (eventually); lucky with digestion (if you’re a runner, you know); lucky with finding water (that vending machine and especially those friendly guys on the trail) and lucky both physically (Kent’s ankle held up after a pretty bad twist) and mentally (my vertigo didn’t muck things up for me). Change any of these things, and it would have affected our run massively. Especially the weather! I’m incredibly grateful for all of the good fortune that made this adventure both possible and awesome.
The Kalalau Trail is really one for the record books: one of my happiest, proudest and luckiest trail tales!
Know and Go! The Kalalau Trail
TRANSPORTATION
Kalalau Trail is a long way from the populated areas of Kaua’i! It’s a 7 mile, 20 minute drive from the nearest settlement at Hanalei. From Lihue town and/or the airport, it’s 40 miles and can take 90 minutes or more on the road. Plan your time accordingly!
As far as how to get to the trailhead, you’ve got a couple of options. Locals and long-term visitors can park at the trailhead without needing to purchase a parking pass in advance. Or simply ask a friend for a ride!
For those of us coming from afar, you absolutely need to make a transportation plan in advance. Thirty days in advance, to be specific! The most environmentally friendly option is to use the Go Ha’ena shuttle from Hanalei, with the only downside being that you’ll need to follow the shuttle schedule (every 20 minutes from 6:30 am to 6 pm). If you plan on starting your Kalalau adventure before dawn (or ending after dark), you might want to try for one of an extremely limited number of parking passes. Either way, you’ll also need park entry. All of the above are available at the Ha’ena State Park website.
Note that for parking passes, you do need to buy multiple time slots (morning, afternoon, evening) to cover your whole hike. Also note that if you strike out a month in advance, keep checking back. I’m living proof that cancellations can and do happen to your benefit sometimes!
HIKE & RUN
Important note: a permit is required for the Kalalau Trail beyond Hanakapi’ai. This is in addition to the state park entrance/shuttle/parking described above. Even if you are not planning to camp, permits are mandatory. Permits are limited, particularly for out-of-state residents. Hop online here 90 days in advance to try to claim the date you want.
The Kalalau Trail is an out-and-back route covering a total of 22 miles (35 k) with an elevation gain of 6500 feet (2000 m). The majority of visitors to Ha’ena State Park only travel the first few kilometers of trail to Hanakapi’ai. Among those intending to cover the whole distance, many camp at Hanakoa or Kalalau or both.
This is primarily a hiking trail. The Kalalau Trail is not easy to run, and you won’t want miss any views! That said, it absolutely can be done: if you’re trained up, geared up, the weather is good and you’re mentally prepared for all outcomes.
The route can be broken up into distinct sections, as detailed above. Be prepared for mud, crumbly earth, thick jungle, narrow singletrack, rapidly changing weather and encountering other folks going either direction on this popular trail. Make sure to carry foul weather gear, a headlamp, a water filter and emergency food. Have a plan for if the weather takes a turn for the worse. But also: be prepared to be amazed! Kalalau Trail is famous for good reason. You are going to love it!
STAY & EAT
Having had the good fortune of staying in Hanalei previously, I can personally recommend it – if you can afford it. I was lucky to stay with family, and we probably wouldn’t have sprung for a stay here on our own. Hawai’i is notoriously expensive, with Kaua’i taking the cake and Hanalei perhaps being the cherry on the very top. Restaurants and food trucks abound here: I’d recommend these for a post-trek splurge rather than as your stock-up point.
If you’re looking to maximize your money, stock up at Safeway in Lihue before you hit the road. Another great way to save is by camping: whether that’s renting a rooftop tent or bringing your own. Other than on the trail itself, there’s not a lot of camping close to Kalalau. There’s not a ton of camping, period. But I think the savings are worthwhile for making your adventure in paradise last longer!
OTHER NOTES
The Kalalau Trail is world-famous and without a doubt one of the world’s most wonderful trails. It’s a highlight of any Hawaiian adventure: a reason to visit the islands!
We took on the 22 mile length of this route in November 2022. We approached it as a run, but spent a significant portion of it hiking. Both Kent and I loved every minute of it.
Make sure you are prepared for the logistical, physical and mental challenges of the Kalalau Trail before setting out. The Kalalau Trail website is a great place to start your research. Get a sense of recent conditions by reading trip reports on AllTrails. It’s not particularly recent, but I enjoyed this run report.
Want more Hawai’i? Check out the Hawai’i main page! More American adventures are here. Other rad runs are on this page. Happy trails to you!