Haleakala: You might as well be walking on the moon

Haleakala moonscape, Maui, Jan 27

At one time or another many of you may have heard the song by Smash Mouth, which has the unforgettable phrase, "you might as well be walking on the sun."

Well, for Wilson and Me, hiking 2,400 feet down into the maw of Haleakala, and then back out again. was somewhat like walking on the moon -- visually, at least. And I couldn't have done it without doping.

Fortunately, it was winter Tuesday. If it had been summer, I don't think I would have made it back, even with the dope. A couple months ago, in Costa Rica, at 11,000 feet, I felt dizzy. So this time I came prepared for one of Hawaii's tallest volcanoes. I brought altitude medications prescribed by Group Health. I am an unabashed doper.

 Coincident to my visit, I ran into old friends from Peru, Lynn and Chuck Morrison. Chuck is a doctor who takes public service health vacations, which is how we met almost four years ago. He is on contract in Maui, and when we had dinner together, he explained that altitude medication acidifies your blood and helps it deliver more oxygen. It seems to have worked.

But enough talk.Here's the photos to tell the tale:

At the top of the volcano, observatories take advantage of the frequently clear skies.

Right from the start, the Haleakala crater showed its otherworldly appearance.

In the distance, the destination lay before us. That crater floor is miles away.

Part way down we ran into a zone where Silverswords, one of Haleakala's unique plants, flourish--tenuously.Wilson took a moment to get acquainted.

Split rocks marked the halfway point for the 11.2 mile hike. We had descended 1,200 feet from a starting point of 9,740 feet. The rocks are in the foreground. That very tiny speck in the center of the photo that appears to be next to the rock is actually someone a bit farther down the trail, maybe a half mile away.

Shade: Time to stop for lunch and gaze at the peak on the opposite side of the volcano.

In the crack of the shade  rock, a plant found the moisture to grow and survive.

Wilson met people along the way. Ellen Ritt from Denver used him to give a ride to her traveling companions: Gumby and Pokey.

Wind appears to have carved this gully, which was part of the pathway down.

The dark patches are not shadows, but seeps, proving that the moon has water.

That's a dune of some sort--an enormous dune.

The horse-hitching post marked my destination and turnaround point. I call the bush facing it George W. It wasn't skill or good genes that allowed it to thrive. It was just dumb luck that it took root there.

This photo proves that Wilson made it to the floor of the crater.

A solitary Silversword looks fat and happy among a field of rocks.

This glance backward provides a reminder of where we had been and what we accomplished.

6 p.m. The sun is close to setting, the crater rim is only a few hundred feet away, and I had water to spare.

It was an exhausting day. When I got back to my lodging all I wanted to do was bathe and sleep. Thanks for coming along.

Love,
Robert
And Wilson