HI: How Cockroaches got to Hawaii (From Spring 2017)

Spring 2017: Volcano National Park 

After being here in Hawai'i for some time now our trips and weekend outings have become increasingly involved and adventurous. We have driven to a remote valley on the island’s northern coast, hiked through the scorching lava fields of Kalapana to see rivers of lava flowing into the ocean and gone snorkeling at beautiful coral reefs on the southern coast. In the spirit of these great adventures, this last weekend my friend and I decided to try our luck with backpacking. Our destination: the remote high country of Volcano National Park.

I spent a good week researching the area, the campsites and cabins, the procedures and the routes. I knew how far we would hike, how long it might take, the supplies needed and how to obtain the right permits and passes. I scrolled through countless images of the area and read other hiker’s stories from their trips. However, no matter how well you prepare for something, the execution can be a very different story, and in this case it turned out to be a very unfortunate and humorous series of events indeed.

We were set to leave on Saturday, January the 28. In true island fashion we slept in and leisurely made our way up mauka, to the mountain at about 11:30. The drive to the park is about forty minutes, through several small towns, rainforest, ohia forest and farmland. On reaching the park gate we took a left on the chain of craters road to collect our permit at the backcountry office.

“Just read the form and sign here.” The ranger directed me. “Pepeiao cabin is a little run down. I think there are two cots, but there are a lot of cockroaches and mice, so make sure you guys have a tent as a backup.” He looked up at me from his form, to make sure of his point about the tent. I smiled back, not about to tell him that we had no tent. I was confident, however, that we wouldn’t need one. The cabin was probably not as bad as he described. 

He finished his talk about backcountry safety as I signed so many scraps of paper I lost count, and then we were on our way. It was another forty minutes to the trail head along a one lane, twisted road snaking through bare lava rock and stunted ohia trees. We saw a few hikers long the way and some friends out for a bike ride. On reaching the trailhead we shouldered our packs and headed down the trail.

Pepeiao cabin is a remote backcountry stop on the southern most edge of the park trail systems. It sits ontop of a long, very impressive ridge that plunges 2000 ft down to lava fields that slope straight down into a beautiful blue ocean. To reach the cabin, one can either hike five miles across the top of the ridge or down the cliff to the lava fields and then loop back up to the cabin from along the coast, about a ten mile trip. We decided to take the longer route by the coast as we had half a day of light left.

Descending the cliff was an ordeal as the trail was incredibly steep and over grown, but we got down quick enough passing only two intrepid hikers on their way back up the cliff. I smiled at them, thinking to myself how lucky we were that we wouldn’t have to hike back up this trail, but would have an easier route to the top via the cabin. At the foot of the cliff we began to hike out to the coast several miles across the lava fields. These were obviously older flows, as there were large tufts of hardy, orange colored grass growing in the grags and cracks. It softened the harsh landscape and contrasted sharply with the brilliant, sparkling blue of the ocean. From then on the footpath disappeared and we began following cairns made of lava rocks, which is very common in Volcano National Park. Many of the hikes there that traverse the lava flows have only cairns to mark the trails.

Hiking to the coast was arduous, even though it sloped gently downhill. Volcano National Park has very dramatic, but harsh landscapes. The rocks were notoriously uneven and following the cairns kept us alert and on our toes, no mindless walking that so often happens on an established trail.

We passed a park ranger and some Australian hikers before we finally reached the coast. The water glittered in the sun and seemed to melt into the sky on the horizon. A vibrant green cover of grass and low lying shrubs surrounded a shallow bay below us, and at the trail junction there was a hut for camping and a composting toilet. We had reached Ka'aha, the last in a chain of backcountry campsites that line the coast.

We savored the view for a while, but we pushed on towards Pepeiao with six miles still to go. It was obvious on the way to Ka'aha that people frequently used that trail. The cairns were well established and the path was well worn through the grass. As soon as we stepped on to the trail that would take us along the coast to the cabin, it was clear not many people took this route. The cairns led us through thick patches of grass and weeds before emerging onto bare, razor sharp rocks that could slice your hand open in you fell. From there the it progressed onto more of a sandy plain, the waves crashing all the while along the cliffs. The sun was dropping further and further in the sky, making me slightly nervous that we might not make to the cabin before nightfall, and trying to follow rock piles in the dark would be nearly impossible. All this while the cairns were becoming smaller and farther apart. We frequently had to stop and scan the landscape for the next one. Eventually we came to a point where we had reached the last cairn and there simply were no more. We searched and search but couldn’t discern where we were supposed to go. The map we were given had no landmarks or topo lines to indicate which direction we were supposed to take, and with the coming darkness we couldn’t afford to guess where we were going.

At such a dilemma it was wonderful to find that I had cell service, and having come to the realization that we had no idea where to go I called the emergency number that was on my permit. The lady who answered was very kind and willing, but it was difficult to describe to her where we were in a flat plain of rock. She transferred me to a ranger, and even he had a difficult time helping us. Eventually we realized we couldn’t go any further and had to turn around and retrace our steps back to Ka'aha.

By the time we reached the campsite it was nearly sunset. The primitive, dirt-floored sheltered was not the cabin we had anticipated sleeping in but at least it would keep us dry in any potential rain. We pulled up tufts of grass to lay on the ground to keep our pads and bags cleaner and settled down for the night. The adventure was only beginning however as we soon discovered the only shelter to be infested with a very active ant colony. To make things even better for us as darkness fell we began to hear loud, hideous hissing from the grass and the walls. Flipping on our flashlights, the beams sent large cockroaches scuttling for the rocks. Leaping up we grabbed our sleeping bags and sat outside the hut on an elevated rock. As we went back for our packs, more cockroaches crawled out of the pockets. With our gear piled with us and large rocks in our hands for killing the cretins we prepared ourselves for a long night of defending the high ground from roaches. It was only an hour later though that we decided we were done with smashing roaches, waving off innumerable moths and dealing with the ants.

We discussed our options: attempting to hike out in the dark with what was left of our flashlight batteries or sitting there and try to sleep amidst the roaches. With neither of these options being very appealing I was starting to feel a little desperate. That’s when we saw the toilet. At this particular campsite a new, very sophisticated looking composting toilet had been installed. Since the solid rock made it hard to dig down for the toilet they had built it as a two story unit. The actual toilet seat was on the second floor with a staircase leading up to it with a very small porch. Upon further inspection, however, this porch proved wide enough to fit two people in sleeping bags and as it was off the ground away from the hoards of roaches we moved camp to the toilet. With our new perch we made a very comfy place to spend the night, and settled in hoping and praying it wouldn’t rain.

It didn’t rain that night, and as the breeze picked up the clouds were blown away to reveal a stunning display of bright, twinkling stars studded across the black sky, rising straight up out of each horizon. It was an incredible sight. There were no lights to dim the stars and the constellations were clear to see. It made the whole night worth it, as we would never have seen such a sky had we stayed under a roof. We drifted off into sleep warm in our sleeping bags, soothed by the breeze, sung to by the waves and watched by the starts.

The next morning came crisp and cool, as we gathering our things into our packs. We began hiking back across the lava field in the early morning light, turning to watch an unbelievable sunrise from across the ocean. The light lit up the clouds and shimmered across the waves. It glinted off the rocks and our way was clear before us, all the way to the foot of the cliffs. Once the sun rose higher however, the air turned hot and sticky. It made the steep, long hike up the bare cliffs incredibly hot and difficult. Reaching the top though was the best feeling in the world. We saw the amazing landscape we had traversed spread out below us.

We drove back out to the visitors center, cruising through blissfully cool native rainforest, our windows down listening to the birds sing. Emerging from the remote forests we came to popular tourist stops, the parking lots crammed full of cars and busses. At the visitors center where we stopped to fill up our water bottles there were people milling about everywhere, quite the change from our solitary night by the ocean. As we left to walk back to the car we passed a group of tourists crowded around a park ranger getting ready to go on a guided hike. We could hear the ranger prepping the group. “We will see some native Hawaiian rainforest and learn about the plants and animals, and how the animals got here to Hawaii.” I laughed to myself as I hear my friend mumble under her breath: “Yeah, tell us how cockroaches got to Hawaii…”