Many Ultrarunning readers
are familiar with Hawaii’s Run to the Sun, a 36.2-mile run on the Island
of Maui that takes participants from sea-level to the 10,023 foot summit
of Haleakala. Several of Hawaii’s ultrarunners joined together recently
for an unofficial Run in the Sun (a run in the large crater at the summit).
What they experienced is hard to put into words, but the following story
will allow you to share in their adventure...
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At the summit we felt the powerful cold wind. It was telling us that,
once we left the protection of our warm car, we had better run. We had
trouble believing that Hawaii could be this cold, this cruel. We double
checked our fanny packs, took a deep breath, opened the door, and RAN!
The aptly named "Sliding Sands Trail" took us from the parking area,
over the rim of the crater, and toward the floor. As we made the descent
(over 2500’ in less than 4 miles), we were awed by the magnificence of
what we witnessed before us. The red cinder cones rising from the crater
floor were dotted with white spots that we later discovered are rare "Silversword"
plants found nowhere else in the world. We could see miles of trails that
would take us over the lava flows and around the large cinder cones, toward
other sources of beauty that would inspire us sometime later in the day.
By the time our thoughts returned to our run, we were at the bottom and
the temperature was closer to what we expected for a tropical climate.
Except for the occasional tour helicopter flying over the crater we
felt as if we were alone on another world. We pitied those people, trapped
in their flying tour bus, their air-sick eyes scanning the crater as they
snapped pictures of the world below. Maybe they were watching us, unable
to understand why we were on foot when we could have paid several hundred
dollars to ride with them in air conditioned comfort. They were thousands
of feet above us, witnessing the beauty at our feet, but failing to realize
its true splendor. We wished they would go away so we could return to our
daydream, to our world.
Our world was more incredible than we ever imagined it could be. From
the summit we observed a crater devoid of life. It looked as if we were
on another planet. But the longer we ran, the more life we saw. At the
far end of the crater stood Paliku Cabin perched among tall green grass
and trees. The cabin was dwarfed by the plush mountains that made up the
crater rim in the background. Contrast was an underlying theme of our run.
Contrasts in terrain, temperature, and trail surface kept the run exciting.
One minute we were warm, wishing we left our jackets at the summit. Minutes
later a thick fog rolled in, covering the trail in a mist that dampened
our clothing. The temperature dropped 10 degrees in a matter of seconds.
At one point we were running on soft sand, praying for a harder surface.
A mile later we were running over golfball-sized volcanic rock, telling
ourselves that the sand was much better. When the sand came again a few
miles later we realized we were wrong.
Once we were on the floor, the Kapalaoa Cabin was only a couple of
miles away. A stop there to use the facilities, and we were on your way
to Paliku Cabin. Again contrasts dominated our run. The trail changed from
packed dirt to an unsteady rock. We felt strong. We could not tell at the
time, but we were running downhill. We had a false sense of power -- like
we could run all day. A stop at Paliku Cabin and we were again underway.
Now we realized that we were running uphill. For the first time all day
we had trouble with the thin air at this elevation. We passed by numerous
cinder cones, each of which were once capable of spouting deadly fountains
of molten rock into the air. We looked into the "Bottomless Pit" and saw
what appeared to be the bottom some 50 feet below. Legend says that ancient
Hawaiian women threw their umbilical cords into the pit for good luck.
We didn’t see any, so on we ran. One foot in front of the other -- over
loose cinders, sand, packed dirt, and rocks -- we ran while enjoying the
surrealistic beauty of our surroundings.
Another front of fog rolled in as we approached Holua Cabin, our last
planned stop of the day. Sitting in the cool grass under the warm sun we
realized that our adventure was nearing an end. The cliché "It’s
all downhill from here" echoed in our ears, but nothing was further from
the truth. We had about 8 miles to go before we would feel the warmth of
our car again, most of it uphill. With almost 20 miles and 6 hours behind
us, we ate our last energy bars and headed into the wind.
Those who regularly come to the crater tell of a magic gained from
time spent there. For some it is the peace of being alone in a different
world. For others it is the respite from the concrete buildings and paved
roads that dominate their world. And for a few, it may be the closeness
to God, the uninterrupted form of worship that can occur during a long
encounter with nature. Whatever it is, we felt it. As we climbed back out
of the crater, the steepness of the trail reduced our pace to a slow walk.
Our lungs screamed for the oxygen so rare at this altitude. Physically
fatigued, we felt a mental refreshment that surpassed any we had felt before.
We traveled switchback after switchback as the temperature fell and the
wind regained its strength. As we crested the crater rim, the wind warned
us to run for the protection of our car. We got in and began our trip down
the mountain. We basked in our newly found magic, our peace, our closeness
to God. Then, sadly, we felt it start to fade as we rapidly approached
the concrete world below.