I didn't know it was possible to hurt in so many places, aka EVERYWHERE

One of my mottos before I came to Hawaii was 'the more extreme, the more fun'. Oh, and another was 'if I'm not covered in scrapes, bumps and bruises, I didn't go far enough.'

Today, I went far enough.

The plan for today was to hike both Maunawili Falls and Koko Crater Head, so I started off with the first because it was further to drive. I Google Mapped the directions before I left, and took screenshots of them so I wouldn't be dependant on finding wifi. Inevitably, I got lost, but not too much as I eventually found myself on the right road.

That road? Highway 61 north, which looked like a freeway. I actually had to turn off onto a neighbourhood street and double check my directions and yup, it said Hwy 61 (which wasn't a freeway). Gritting my teeth, I doubled back and got on.

And good God, but it was one of the most terrifying things I've ever done in my life (and there are more than a few that would qualify for that list). For starters, the speed limit for most of it was 45mp/40mph minimum. My moped can only comfortably hit 30, sometimes 45 if I'm on a bit of a downhill stretch. And for another thing, the faster I went, the more the wind became a factor. I was clutching the handlebars and feeling the wind buffet the moped, wondering if cars behind me would stop when I got blown over.

Luckily, the moped stayed upright and I didn't crash out, but goodness, I was clenching my teeth the whole time. I thought about trying to get to Maunawili Falls via side roads but decided against it: Hwy 61 cut a straight line to the trailhead, I was close enough that meandering around would just add a lot of time, and given my sense of direction, veering off the main drag—no matter how bloody terrifying and close to death I thought I was for 10 miles—probably wouldn't have been the better choice. The other drivers were really good, though, and passed me without honking or giving me heck. I guess they're used to mopeds in all places, and maybe my wearing a clunky helmet showed them I'm relatively serious about safety.

In the end, I got there alive and fine, but maybe a bit shivery from racing down the highway at way too many miles an hour. After locking up my moped, I started off on the trail and asked the first person I saw how long and high it was. Her last words to me? "Embrace the mud."

That should have been my first clue. Had I read Yelp beforehand instead of just taking Moped Guy's tips, I would have been prepared, maybe, but probably also not as willing to go in.

The trail was so muddy, it was like the Mud Monster got really pissy and unleashed his fury on the 1.5 mile trail. Like, for most of the trail, the entire width of it was covered in gloopy mud that threatened to suck you under (the width was about one Christina wide).

I met up with a father and son and together, the three of us bypassed the falls initially and headed for the ridge. I couldn't tell you how long it was other than maybe a mile, mile and a half-ish, but it was brutal in its own special way. Parts of it were steep, with stairs that would challenge even the sturdiest of knees, and most of it was incredibly overgrown with sharp, pointy branches that scratched up my sunburned arms pretty bad. We reached pretty much the end of the ridge and turned back, with the son deciding that was it for them but I was ready for more.

But there were plenty of people on the trail so I asked a few of them for directions. One guy was really helpful and told me not to turn right where I thought I should; he said two couples passed him and didn't say anything, and he went really far out of the way. Thanks, Mister Trail Hiker. With his tips, I got to Maunawili Falls and encountered water so cold, it felt like melted Toronto snow. But I got used to and watched a couple people jump into the pool, then figured I should do the same (that's why I came there).

It was when I climbed up the rocks that I got my first sense of my own mortality, asking the two girls perched up there if they were sure, really sure, if the pool was deep enough, and if the higher jump wouldn't kill me. I wasn't quite reassured by their answers that they'd been doing it all day (cliff jumping is sort of like Russian Roulette) but jumped anyway, and didn't get a single scratch. Emboldened, I climbed up to the taller one and got a funny feeling by the sign saying "No diving or jumping. There may be hidden objects in the water that can injure or kill you." That was it for me. After 30 seconds contemplating it (I'd already seen two people jump from there), I thought I didn't want to take the chance and climbed down.


On the way back, I tried to keep pace on the muddy trail with two other people, and ended up slipping and hitting my leg hard. Nothing broken or sprained, but definitely scratched up and muddy. I returned to my moped and thought, again, about taking side roads but figured the 61 would just be the fastest way.

I was fucking terrified.

I had to keep relative pace with traffic, which meant pushing 45mp for good portions. Not only was I ready to shit my pants with fear, but lemme tell you about when we got to the part where just a waist-high railing separated me and a sheer drop-off of how many hundred feet. And then couple that with trying to avoid the bumps and potholes in the road, and I was ready to curl up on the side of the road, hugging the moped, and crying while I rocked back and forth. Even for something who thrives on risk, it was really pushing the needle for me.

And now, I hurt everywhere. My arms are red enough to use as a paint sample, my legs are bruised, scraped up, and only now finally free of mud, and my joints hurt every time I get up and walk.

But the moped is due at 6am tomorrow morning, and I still have Koko Crater Head to climb. Golly, it seems like another 5am wakeup for me.