Kalalau Trail FKT Attempt Near Miss by Eight Seconds!
In today’s age of social media, we usually see the highs, but not so much the lows. However, its the lows that reveal our character and develop us into our future self. It took me a full month to the day to sit down and finally construe my thoughts from my Kalalau Trail Fastest Known Time (FKT) attempt.
Seizing the moment
The beautiful Na Pali coastline at sunrise.
Although I would have loved to plan this FKT out more thoroughly, it was a “seize the moment opportunity”…except that it slipped through my fingers, literally. Let me explain.
Two weeks earlier, this FKT attempt wasn’t even on my radar. I thought we’d take another road trip to Bentonville, Arkansas over Christmas break to mountain bike. Our kids looked forward to shredding some dirt. About five days before we planned to hit the road, the least spontaneous person on the planet, my husband, suggested we take a trip to Hawaii…just the two of us. His parents were willing to watch the kids for our first vacation alone since Glacier National Park in 2017.
After a crash course on Hawaii, I proposed we go to Kauai, where 97% of the land is undeveloped and only 10% of the island is accessible by road. The Garden Island is home to five state parks and hundreds of miles of hiking trails, including the Kalalau Trail. Admittedly, one of biggest factors to visit Kauai was the opportunity to hike the iconic Kalalau Trail. My first recollection of the trail was about three years prior listening to a Billy Yang podcast with Amanda Basham and Justin Grunewald sharing their experiences setting FKTs on the trail.
After navigating the permitting process for Haena State Park to access the Kalalau Trail on the Na Pali Coast there was exactly one permit left over our window on Kauai. I snagged the permit before we booked airplane tickets (which is the advised order). Then I booked shuttle tickets for the day before so my husband and I could hike the first two miles of the trail together (which is as far as you can go without a permit). I continued checking multiple times a day to see if any cancellations opened any more permits so we could backpack the trail together…nada. This means that the remaining 18 miles of the trail I’d need to cover unscouted, which is far less than ideal for me. In my limited time, I tried to read articles, watch YouTube videos, and listen to podcasts, many of which weren’t helpful since they were from the viewpoint or geared towards novice hikers that would never consider covering the trail in a single day. I also studied as many maps as I could find to know where intersections would be, expected elevation change, and anticipate potential volunteer trails.
Polar opposite
My limited scouting at the Kalalau Trailhead the day before the FKT attempt.
In almost every way, my second ever FKT attempt was polar opposite of my first FKT attempt on the Superior Hiking Trail (SHT). After four scouting trips and countless hours planning my first FKT on the SHT, I knew what I was in for. On paper, I’d need to average 15 minutes per mile over the course of 22 miles on the Kalalau Trail. With the mud, technicality of the trail, how fast I’d be able to climb and descent the 7000 feet of elevation gain and loss, river crossings, and unknown conditions awaiting me, I wasn’t sure how doable the Kalalau Trail FKT was. Although I had hiked on the island in the days leading up to the FKT, I hadn’t run at all, and being winter in Wisconsin, I wasn’t in prime trail running shape.
Proudly showing off my 20 pound beef roast!
This would be my shortest timed run since winning a 20 pound roast at the Rump Roast Run in 2009 (which was my motivation for the race and it was worth it!) My goal was sub-five hours, which would give me the women’s unsupported FKT record by ten minutes. Under this time crunch, and not having much for speed (I had done zero training preparing for the course!), I felt like I could never let off the gas.
Taking in the majesty of the Weeping Wall after fjording rivers and hiking through knee deep mud.
With my husband’s airline status (that would expire the next month), we had the luxury to pack a suitcase of food and another of camping gear. We spent the first three days on the island hiking almost every moment of daylight (it took us three days before we saw our campsite during daylight), covering 55 miles over some of the least maintained official trails I have ever been on. Our first hike, a 20 mile out-and-back to the Weeping Wall, set the tone for the rest of the trip. We began hiking at dawn and needed our headlamps for the final miles, where we saw a grand total of one couple the entire day. My husband and I rarely saw any trail markers, and often couldn’t even see each other if we were more than ten feet apart! We hiked through knee high mud, crossed and hiked in the river more times than we could count, and scrambled several times up steep walls only to discover we were off trail and had to cautiously slide back down. We ended up covering all but one of the hikes that were on my ambitious list in a single week. By the third day of nonstop hiking my husband was proud of his output, but was dragging. Needless to say, not an ideal taper.
Limited Scouting
Hiking to Hanakapi’ai Falls the day before the FKT attempt.
On the second to last day on the island, my husband and I hiked the first two miles of the Kalalau Trail then took the spur trail to Hanakapi’ai Falls, another gorgeous waterfall that I’m glad we were able to experience together. The trail included beautiful ocean views plus bamboo, guava, citrus, palm, and other notable vegetation. We couldn’t find any ripe guava, but we found a spunky lemon that looked more like an orange (but was no doubt a lemon after taste testing!)
Practicing crossing Hanakapi’ai Stream at mile 2 of the Kalalau Trail.
Since we were on the first shuttle, we hit the trail just before sunrise and hardly saw anyone on the way out. On the way back was a different story. We met a steady stream of hikers which became more populated as we approached the trailhead. I rehearsed how I’d cross Hanakapi’ai Stream, the first of several stream crossings on the Kalalau Trail. Luckily, it hadn’t rained significantly since we arrived in Kauai and river levels were all trending to the lowest since the trail was closed prior to our arrival due to high river levels. However, there was still plenty of mud which would surely slow me down.
Since it would be near impossible to keep my feet dry, I opted for a surefooted fjord across Hanakapi’ai Stream rather than risk an injury with a fall. Being an adventure racer, I wasn’t too concerned about wet feet. Besides, the trail was so muddy, my feet weren’t exactly dry.
We ended the hike at the same time I’d be finishing my FKT attempt the next day. It was hard to believe that in the same five hours I’d be covering nearly three times the distance. I would surely be slowed by the number of hikers on the trail. I also wasn’t looking forward to the sun, which would be equally as intense the following day. For the FKT, I waffled about wearing sunglasses and a cap. Since most of the route would stay shaded by the Na Pali cliffs and wearing a cap in hot weather traps in too much heat, I decided to carry a cap in case I needed the visor in the final miles to obscure the intense sun from my eyes.
By the time we returned to our campsite I was hangry since we couldn’t find any open restaurants. My husband dutifully made a pot of Tuna Helper which I devoured midafternoon. Once again, not the best pre-race fueling strategy.
My other big decision was what to do for hydration. Unfortunately, the Leptospira bacteria in the water made standalone filtration inadequate. I opted to carry my fluids for the entirety of the FKT to save time of treating water enroute, especially since iodine tablets are a two-step process. My husband questioned 1.5 liters of water being enough, since he had guzzled 3 liters on our significantly shorter hike the day before. Despite losing some fluid during a trail mishap at mile three, 1.5 liters was pretty optimal.
The Day
Starting the FKT attempt at first light, bright-eyed and bushy tailed.
When we arrived at Haena State Park for my Kalalau Trail FKT attempt I inquired with the park ranger if there were any other trails I could accidentally wander onto since I hadn’t been allowed to scout the trail beyond mile 2. She lost her credibility instantly when she told me there was only one trail, so I didn’t bother asking how well the other three spur trails I hadn’t seen yet were marked. This would have been helpful to know.
I set off at first light to minimize my contact with other hikers, which was the coolest part of the day, at 67 degrees. Although the cloud cover trapped in the prior day’s heat, I hoped it would hang on to protect me from the blazing sun. As I took my first steps on the trail, I considered for a moment to restart, since I forgot to put my phone in a baggie before I started Strava (for an FKT you need to have proof that you completed the route in the reported time). Nah, I thought, I can just hike and put my phone in the baggie, those couple of seconds shouldn’t matter. Spoiler alert, I was wrong.
One mile in, I was already sweating more than I had cumulatively since coming to the island. Perhaps this was a foreboding of my problem to come. It seemed like there were a few more people on the trail than the prior day and I tried to give them adequate head’s up since I was usually going twice their speed. By the time I hit Hanakapi’ai Stream, I had passed all the day hikers and was stoked to see I had hit my time goal for the first two miles.
Disaster averted!
I took in the full beauty of the Na Pali coastline on my scouting hike the prior day since I couldn’t afford to slow down during the FKT attempt for photo ops.
Immediately after Hanakapi’ai Stream was the spur trail to Hanakapi’ai Falls, so I was entering unscouted territory. The next section was all uphill, so it was straightforward. I noticed that immediately the trail narrowed, limiting my line of sight for the technical trail. Often I could only see a switchback a step or two before the trail turned. Sometimes I struggled to assess what lay under my feet with inches of decaying vegetation obscuring the trail. The thick live vegetation infiltrating the trail deflected my trekking poles, so I contemplated stowing them but not knowing what was ahead I kept them out.
As I crested and began descending about three miles in, I took a drink of Tailwind, a huge mistake! In a split second, my bladder nozzle was tumbling down the steep hillside while Tailwind spewed out of the hose. Since my nozzle had popped off a few other times (so I should have known better!) I quickly reacted, tracking my nozzle with my eyes as I simultaneously blew air back into my hose to squelch the siphoning and preserve my meticulously calculated Tailwind as I screeched to a halt. I wave of panic shot through me as I didn’t know if I’d be able to chase the nozzle down the steep grade. Everything occurred in slow motion as I pictured gulping untreated water out of waterfalls (Leptospirosis here I come!). Thankfully, the layers of leaves snagged the nozzle, but would I be able to find the needle in the haystack? A sense of relief overcame me as I spotted a blue speck among the brown leaves. I daintily stepped offtrail to carefully retrieve the nozzle, thankful it (and I) didn’t tumble hundreds of feet down the near vertical hillside. Instantly, I created a new rule, no more drinking on downhills. My next thought: disaster averted. Wrong, that thoughtless mistake cost me the FKT.
I soon discovered on the remaining descent that I needed every ounce of concentration on the trail and I couldn’t run efficiently due to the thick vegetation. My poles were often at my sides since the trail dropped so steeply inches from my feet. One pole plant could leave me tumbling hundreds of feet down the hillside. My pace slowed considerably (but I didn’t actually know since both of my smart watches were out-of-commission, so all I had was a cheap Timex with a few splits I had memorized). I didn’t have time to pull out my phone to see my actual pace. As I reached my next split, Hanakoa campsite, my stoke at Hanakapi’ai Stream turned to doubt. I was hanging on by a thread to FKT pace. I had read all the FKT reports and there were mixed comments on the speed of the trail, so I wasn’t exactly sure if I’d be able to make up time. At least for now there wasn’t any mud. Knowing there was a spur trail to the left, I crossed Hanakoa Stream slightly too far right and hit a volunteer trail. It didn’t feel right, but not having been on the trail or noticing anything to the left, I stopped to pull up the map on my phone. Sure enough, I was on a volunteer trail. Not a huge loss, and I was thankful I had my phone at my disposal to remedy my error so quickly.
I relaxed as the trail widened and smoothed. I could finally step off the brakes on the descents. I was banking time again. Having not put out an intense effort like this in years, I wasn’t sure how to meter my effort. The bare hillsides as I approached Crawler’s Ledge were a stark contrast to the thick forest. Suddenly, nothing stood between me and the ocean waves crashing rocks below me. It wasn’t nearly as intimidating as hiker reports made it out to be and the trail was even graded for the most part, so I mostly ran, albeit cautiously, since I hadn’t seen anyone since mile 2. My body relaxed as I pushed onto the next section.
At the waterfall for the turnaround with a very small cushion that would evaporate quickly.
I tried to take in landmarks particularly where the trail wasn’t as obvious. As I began the final descent into Kalalau Valley, I met a flock of goats, my first encounter with anyone for miles. I only looked up briefly as I descended the shale. I took the most obvious route, hoping it was the correct one since it didn’t look all that different than the surrounding rock. I lucked out, making it through without any detours. The rest of the descent was flowy, and I tried to maintain as much speed as possible. I flew past the beach where a blur of tents were set up as people lounged on the beach. I spotted the waterfall at the far end of the beach and wanted to make sure my FKT was validated, so I screen shot my GPS track and took my phone out of the baggie for a quick snapshot. In a matter of minutes, I would learn this was a huge mistake.
I whipped around and began a quick debate if I could run even splits since I was only minutes under FKT pace. I felt good, but I couldn’t remember ever running even splits. My husband’s final advice was to not give up if I was close at the turnaround and reminded me an FKT report said it was faster on the way back. My plan B if I was off pace was to jog back and take the two other spur trails to fully take in the beauty of this trail. I heeded my husband’s advice, since I didn’t want to give up and it would be all worth it if I got the FKT, even by just one second.
Issues immediately after the turnaround.
Due to the high humidity, I wanted to get my phone back in the baggie as soon as possible, but it took a few minutes before I had (what I thought) was a good spot to do so. After I had stowed my phone, I immediately noticed that things didn’t look right. “The ocean shouldn’t be to my left,” I thought. I pulled my phone back out, but I couldn’t unlock it in the bag, so I peeled it out of the baggie again. But the screen had gotten damp, and my fingers were so sweaty, so the touch screen didn’t work. Not good. I about-faced to retrace my steps, but this didn’t seem right either. I longed for my phone to show me the trail, but I was forced to turn around again. This time I continued further until I saw an outhouse for the campground, definitely not the right direction. I continued back again only to discover that I turned around a handful of steps too early. When I was distracted with my phone, I accidently took a volunteer trail straight instead of staying on the Kalalau Trail which turned left in a small reentrant. I had now lost my entire cushion, and more. No more mistakes I told myself.
Unraveling
I was approaching the Kalalau River crossing where I had made a note of where I exited the crossing, but failed to identify a landmark on the opposite side of the river. I aimed off and found myself too far downstream. Despite my best efforts to pay attention at the river crossings, this was a reoccurrence on two more river crossings. I managed these crossings flawlessly outbound, but I was unraveling under the pressure, and managed to bobble. Each time I only lost a couple of seconds, when I had zero room for error. I tried to console myself by dunking as much of myself in the water without immersing my pack. I rocketed past a hiker and realized he enthusiastically had his phone out because he was the one hiker I divulged my FKT plan to the day before and he gave me a quick “Great job.”
Soon, I’d be hitting two spurs. I had seen one of them on the way out, but I had missed the second one. I was apprehensive about veering onto the spur because then my FKT attempt would be over. I noticed a patch of flowers I hadn’t recalled on the way out and panicked that I had slipped onto the spur by mistake. I groped for my phone and stopped in my tracks. Every step down the wrong trail would mean two more steps away from the FKT. I shouted at my phone to unlock as I stood at a standstill on the trail grasping my phone in both hands. Tick. Tock. I could feel the precious seconds ticking. I lost my entire cushion minutes earlier, so I didn’t have a second to waste. In what seemed like minutes, my touchpad worked well enough for me to unlock my phone and verify that I was on the Kalalau Trail. Soon I recognized a landmark.
I started passing backpackers that I had passed in my final miles out. As I approached a father/son duo, I assumed they had stopped to let me pass. I made eye contact with the son, so I didn’t bother giving the dad a head’s up. It wasn’t until I shouldered the dad that I realized he was stopped to take a photo. I felt like a jerk once I was too far down the trail and very grateful we weren’t on steeper terrain that he could have gotten hurt or lost his phone.
Knowing the trail would get more technical, I needed to fly. I was getting back on pace as I passed 6 and 4 miles to go. I still had a shot! Based on my experience the prior day, I’d be weaving around groves of day hikers in the final two miles, so I couldn’t wait to make my move. The second to last descent seemed to have endless switchbacks. When I reached Hanakapi’ai Stream, with two miles to go, the FKT was still within grasp. I couldn’t recall the exact FKT time, since I didn’t expect to cut it that close, but knew it was just south of 5:10.
I ran most of the ups zig-zagging around families and tourists in bright white sneakers covered in fresh mud. Since my kids are often in a world of their own while hiking, I was hoping I would be able to sidestep any kids that suddenly darted in front of me. I was starting to run on fumes and no longer had the energy to constantly yell “on your left”. Besides, many inexperienced hikers froze like deer in the headlights when they took their eyes off the ground. I almost recklessly flew down the final descent to the trailhead.
My Timex read just north of 5:10. Since I had started my Timex before my official mode of tracking the FKT on Strava, I didn’t lose hope. It was so close. I fumbled with my phone to unlock it and eventually sat down as I impatiently waited for my fingers and screen to dry enough so I could use the touchscreen. Occasionally I could get one digit typed but then the screen would relock. Finally, about 20 minutes later, I was able to unlock my phone and stop Strava. Haena State Park has no cell phone service, so I wouldn’t know until I was back to civilization whether or not I missed the FKT officially. With this window of uncertainty, I was able to be content with my effort. I couldn’t believe how my sporadic splits lined up exactly with the existing FKT, despite no Smartwatch to constantly assess my pace.
Cooling off at Ke’e Beach following the FKT attempt.
With the sun beating down, I jumped into the ocean at Ke’e Beach then cleaned all the mud off my shoes, socks, and legs at the outdoor shower. Luckily since the trails were so muddy, I didn’t look too odd, with many people using the outdoor showers. I was amused how mothers were scolding their kids for either getting too wet or not washing off enough mud in the shower, no happy medium.
Later, I learned that I was eight seconds short of the FKT. I’m proud that I fought to the end for the FKT versus enjoying a long easy run on the trail. Had I not gone for the FKT, I would have wondered if I missed (likely my only) opportunity. Having done so many beautiful hikes in Kauai earlier in the week, including the first two miles of the Kalalau Trail, I’m not sure if I would have taken more in…or at least that’s what I’ll tell myself until I prove otherwise!
Afterwards, we still had several hours before our flights back home, so we did an impromptu hike on Sleeping Giant, a hike that hadn’t made my must-do hike list. Turns out, it was a great hike, different than all our others, offering panoramic views including the town of Wailua, ocean, and mountains. And my husband wasn’t the one dogging this hike, I was, especially as we hit the hottest temperature of the trip, 83 degrees. What a New Year’s Eve!
Atop Sleeping Giant with panoramic views.