Hiking the Kalalau Trail

A Decade-Long Dream to Conquer Kauai’s Wild Nāpali Coast
January 2020

The Nāpali Coast of Kauai is arguably one of the most beautiful places on Earth. Towering volcanic cliffs draped in lush greenery plunge dramatically into the Pacific, forming a jagged shoreline that feels both ancient and untouched. At the heart of this remote paradise lies the Kalalau Trail—a 22-mile round-trip trek often hailed as one of America’s greatest and most challenging hikes.

Why the Kalalau Trail is So Special

• No Roads In: The only way to reach the legendary Kalalau Valley is by foot—no roads or cars break the wildness.

• Epic Scenery: The trail clings to sea cliffs that rise thousands of feet above crashing waves, winding through five steep valleys.

• Rare Ecosystems: Home to endemic plants, trees, and bird species, many found nowhere else in the world.

• Wilderness Camping: Sleep beneath a canopy of stars on remote beaches, often with no one else in sight.

• Waterfalls & River Crossings: Countless streams, no bridges, and slippery ledges make this a true backcountry experience.

• History and Legend: Once home to ancient Hawaiian settlements and now a refuge for modern-day free spirits and off-grid dwellers.

• The Kalalau Valley: At the trail’s end lies an eden-like valley where hippies, nudists, and free-spirited individuals live simply, far removed from modern life.

My Journey: A Decade in the Making

I had dreamed of completing the Kalalau Trail for years. My first attempt nearly a decade earlier ended abruptly at the Hanakāpī‘ai River, where flash floods turned the trail deadly. That winter, I watched hikers swept away and helped others cross the rising waters. Some had to be airlifted out by helicopter. I turned back, shaken and swore I’d never attempt the trail again in winter.

A Return to Redemption

But in January 2020, I returned—once again in winter—this time with three close friends and a renewed determination. Older, wiser, and still drawn by the trail’s mystery, I was ready to face the challenge and finally reach the Kalalau Valley.

Map of Trail

Preparing for the Unknown

Permits, Storms, and the Risk of Another Failure

We secured our overnight camping and parking permits well in advance, knowing how quickly they sell out. These permits are limited and highly sought after—last-minute planners are often left empty-handed. But as I learned from experience, securing a permit is only the first hurdle.

Weather: The Real Gatekeeper

On the Kalalau Trail, the weather dictates everything. Mountain rains can turn calm streams into raging, impassable torrents, often prompting emergency closures of the trail.

• I experienced this firsthand nearly a decade earlier, when flash floods forced me to turn back at the Hanakāpī‘ai River

• This time, I was determined not to repeat that failure

Becoming Amateur Meteorologists

Knowing we were hiking in **winter—the most volatile season—**my friends and I obsessively monitored weather forecasts:

• Studied radar maps and rain models daily

• Tracked tropical disturbances

• Consulted local weather forums and reports

Just days before our trip, the trail had been closed for weeks due to a major storm. Though it had just reopened, the forecast still warned of potential rainfall.

Ready for Anything

Despite the ominous outlook, we pressed on with cautious optimism. To prepare, we packed:

• Heavy-duty rain gear to keep us dry through storms

• Trekking poles for stability on muddy, eroded trails

• A flexible mindset, ready to adapt to whatever the trail threw at us

We knew the risk, but we also knew the reward. We were prepared, determined, and hopeful that this time, the Kalalau Trail would finally let us pass.

The Trail Begins at Ke‘e Beach

Gateway to the Nāpali Coast Wilderness

The Kalalau Trail begins at Ke‘e Beach, a remote and breathtaking starting point where lush jungle meets the towering sea cliffs of Kauai’s Nāpali Coast. It’s a place where the pavement ends, and the true wilderness begins.

Parking Challenges

What You Need to Know Before You Arrive

Unless you’ve secured a hard-to-get overnight parking permit, it’s best to arrange transportation to the trailhead.

• Overnight parking permits must be reserved far in advance—they’re limited and high in demand

• Rideshares (Uber/Lyft) or drop-offs are highly recommended if you don’t have a permit

• I was lucky to reserve a permit in time, giving us a secure parking spot for the trip

A Word of Caution

Vehicle Break-ins Are a Real Risk

Even with a permit, parking at Ke‘e Beach comes with risks. Theft from vehicles is common, especially overnight. Scattered glass on the ground serves as a stark reminder of previous break-ins.

• Never leave valuables in your vehicle

• Bring all important gear and documents with you

• Be discreet—don’t leave bags or anything visible that might attract attention

Standing at the Edge

Ready to Begin One of America’s Greatest Hikes

With our permits secured, gear packed, and everything of value on our backs, we stood at the trailhead. The ocean roared to our left, the jungle towered on our right, and ahead lay 22 miles of rugged, unforgiving beauty.

We were ready to face one of America’s most breathtaking—and brutal—hikes.

Setting Out Before Sunrise

Early Steps Toward Kalalau Valley

Before hitting the trail, we made a point to leave only clean clothes in the car—a strategic move to avoid carrying extra weight and to ensure we’d have something fresh to change into after the long, grueling hike back.

We began our trek an hour before sunrise, headlamps on, eager to make the most of daylight and reach Kalalau Valley before nightfall.

Hanakāpī‘ai: The Gateway Stretch

The Trail’s Most Tamed—and Most Traveled—Section

The first part of the trail is a two-mile stretch from Ke‘e Beach to Hanakāpī‘ai River. It’s:

• Well-maintained, with a relatively smooth path and clear signage

• The only section that doesn’t require a permit, making it the most popular

• Often crowded by midday, especially with day hikers heading to Hanakāpī‘ai Beach or Falls

But with our early start, we had this part of the trail nearly to ourselves, sharing it only with a few fellow backpackers heading deeper into the Nāpali Coast wilderness.

Trail from Ke’e Beach to Hanakapiai River

The Hanakāpī‘ai River Crossing

Where Calm Turns to Chaos

Few parts of the Kalalau Trail are more deceptively dangerous than the Hanakāpī‘ai River crossing, just two miles from the trailhead. Under normal conditions, the river appears calm, almost gentle. But when rains fall in the mountains, it can quickly transform into a raging, deadly torrent.

A Risk Not to Be Underestimated

• Rising water levels can make the river completely impassable

• Strong currents can slam hikers into rocks or sweep them out to sea, where deadly rip currents and high surf await

• Drownings occur nearly every year, often involving hikers who underestimate the danger

On my first attempt nearly a decade ago, the river was in full flood—furious and uncrossable. Dozens of hikers were trapped on the far bank, and while a few brave (or reckless) individuals made it across, most required helicopter rescue.

Clear Skies, Cautious Mind

Reading the River, Not the Forecast

Though rain was in the forecast, the skies above were clear as we approached the crossing. Still, I knew better than to trust surface appearances. Rain in the highlands can take hours to reach the lower valleys—and by then, it may already be too late.

I held back any optimism until I could see the river with my own eyes.

To Build or Not to Build?

The Bridge That Never Was

Despite years of discussion, no bridge spans the Hanakāpī‘ai River—a fact that continues to spark debate.

Arguments against building a bridge include:

• High construction costs and complex logistics

• Risk of the bridge being destroyed in future flash floods

• Desire to preserve the trail’s wild, untamed character

• The absence of a bridge serves as a natural filter, discouraging underprepared hikers and helping control foot traffic

Ultimately, the prevailing philosophy has remained: let the trail remain rugged and remote, its dangers a part of its mystique.

Crossing the Hanakapiai River when it is low

A memorial of someone that drowned from the strong undertow of the river crossing

The crew on the trail

Volcanic Cliffs

Into the Wild: Beyond Hanakāpī‘ai

Where the Trail Grows Steeper, Slipperier, and More Sublime

Once past the Hanakāpī‘ai River crossing, the Kalalau Trail takes a sharp turn into wilderness. The next four miles are no longer well-maintained. The trail becomes steeper, narrower, and often slick with mud, demanding far more focus and endurance.

A Trail Through History and Beauty

As the path winds higher and deeper into the valleys, the scenery grows increasingly dramatic—lush ridgelines, towering cliffs, and distant ocean vistas that feel straight out of a dream.

It’s hard not to become distracted by the beauty, but this is also where footing becomes trickiest.

Along the way, we passed:

• Old taro terraces, subtle but powerful reminders of the Hawaiian ancestors who once cultivated these remote valleys

• Overgrown footpaths, hinting at now-abandoned homesteads and a way of life nearly forgotten

Skipping Hanakoa Falls

Choosing Caution Over Curiosity

We had hoped to detour to Hanakoa Falls, a stunning but time-consuming side trail. However, with rain in the forecast and the most dangerous section of the hike still ahead—the infamous cliffside traverse—we decided to press on.

• Hanakoa Falls is accessible via a side trail near mile 6

• In good conditions, it’s a worthy stop, but it adds hours to the hike

• With time and weather working against us, we chose to skip it for safety’s sake

Our priority was clear: reach the exposed sea cliffs before the downpour. On this trail, hesitation—or mistiming—can mean the difference between a safe crossing and a harrowing one.

My Buddy Miguel and I

Traversing Crawler’s Ledge

The Trail’s Most Infamous Stretch—But Not the Most Dangerous

As we approached Crawler’s Ledge, our nerves were high. This narrow, cliff-hugging section of the Kalalau Trail is the most photographed—and feared—portion, with countless intimidating images shared online. The thought of crossing it in the rain was unsettling.

Surprisingly, when we reached it, conditions were better than expected:

• The volcanic rock provided solid footing

• Abundant natural rock handholds made it easier to maintain balance

• The ledge was exposed and narrow, but not slick

At the end of the traverse, we scaled a 20-foot vertical rock wall, using natural handholds to climb out of the ledge section. It was intense—but manageable.

The Real Danger Comes After

Muddy Red Cliffs with Fatal Drop-Offs

While Crawler’s Ledge gets all the attention, the sections that follow are far more dangerous. The trail continues to cling to steep cliffs, but the ground changes—from firm volcanic rock to slippery, muddy red clay.

• The path remained narrow and exposed, but now with far less traction

• Even a minor slip could send a hiker plummeting hundreds of feet

• Tragically, this section has claimed lives over the years—reminders that nature here demands respect

Each step required total concentration. Trekking poles helped, but nothing could eliminate the risk entirely. The margin for error was razor thin.

Oscar struggling on the Crawlers ledge

Amazing Lush Native Vegetation Endemic to the Isolated Valleys

Tim admiring the view

The Hardest Stretch of Trail

From Crawler’s Ledge to Kalalau—Where the Real Test Begins

The five-mile stretch beyond Hanakoa marked the toughest segment of the Kalalau Trail. While Crawler’s Ledge was intense, the true challenge escalated after, as the trail clung to steep, slick red clay cliffs—narrow, exposed, and unforgiving.

• The terrain became increasingly unstable and technical

• A misstep on the mud-slicked ledges could prove fatal

• Every step required focus and deliberate movement

Solitude and Silence

Few Hikers, Fewer Helicopters

We encountered only a handful of hikers the entire day. For the most part, we were utterly alone, the sense of isolation amplified by the remoteness of the trail.

The only break in the silence came from the occasional tourist helicopter, buzzing above in short bursts. Thankfully, overcast skies limited their numbers, a hidden benefit of trekking in the off-season.

Pros of Winter Hiking

• Reduced foot traffic—fewer hikers, more solitude

• Fewer helicopter flyovers, preserving the quiet

• Cooler temps on the trail

Cons

• Unpredictable weather and increased rain risk

• Trail closures are more likely

• Slippery terrain makes dangerous sections even more precarious

Descent into kalalau Valley

The Final Descent into Kalalau

Beauty, Mud, and a Bit of Bushwhacking

The first glimpse of Kalalau Valley was nothing short of breathtaking—a vast, Eden-like expanse framed by jagged cliffs and the endless Pacific. But while the view inspired awe, the slippery descent into the valley was anything but graceful.

The trail turned to slick red clay, making each step treacherous. It was here that our trekking poles proved invaluable, helping us maintain balance and prevent dangerous slips.

Losing the Trail

A Jungle Maze to the Campground

Once in the valley, the real challenge began: finding the trail to the campground. The path was poorly marked, overgrown with thick jungle vegetation, and made worse by exhaustion after a full day of hiking.

In the confusion, we inadvertently split into two groups, each forging its own route through the underbrush. We bushwhacked our way through vines and trees, hoping we were headed in the right direction.

Eventually, both groups stumbled onto the correct trail and reunited at the Kalalau campground, muddy, tired, but relieved. The hardest part was over—we had made it.

Hike through vegetation in Kalalau Valley

Kalalau’s End Point

The trail ends abruptly at a cliff wall above the beach, signaling your arrival. With no designated campsites, hikers set up tents wherever the ground is flat.

We found a spot near the waterfall, which provided easy access to fresh water and a peaceful backdrop—an ideal place to recover after the long hike in.

Where we camped near the waterfall

Filtering drinking water

Grave or memorial of someone who died at Kalalau Beach from falling off of a cliff

The Return Begins

A Grueling Hike, Whiskey Regrets, and False Sunshine

We had trekked for 11 grueling hours the day before, finally reaching our remote campsite for the night. The plan was simple—wake up, hike the same 11 miles back, and complete the Kalalau Trail in just two days.

But when morning came, our bodies rebelled—aching from the punishing hike, and sluggish from the whiskey we had foolishly indulged in the night before. Every muscle screamed, but the sun was shining, and it gave us a brief sense of optimism.

Storm Incoming

When Kalalau Reminds You Who’s in Charge

That illusion didn’t last long.

Within an hour, the sky darkened, and we were suddenly engulfed by storm clouds. Gusty winds howled through the valley, and a torrential downpour turned the once-dry trail into a slippery mudslide.

The most dangerous section lay ahead—a four-mile stretch along sheer, exposed sea cliffs. There was no shelter, and the wind—sharp, cold, and relentless, like something from Alaska—whipped across the coastline. We estimated it at 30 mph, and it was relentless.

Freezing rain stung our faces, and salt spray from the ocean, carried upward by the wind, burned our eyes raw.

We moved slowly and cautiously, at times crawling on our knees to avoid slipping off the crumbling, muddy clay. When the gusts hit hardest, we dropped to the ground, clinging to anything we could to stay upright.

Each step was a fight.

The Final Obstacle

Hanakāpī‘ai River in Full Flood

But the worst was yet to come.

As we approached Hanakāpī‘ai River, we knew it would be bad—and it was. We’d crossed several rivers already, but this one was different.

By the time we arrived, it was cresting—swollen by unrelenting rain, churning with violent currents. The water was deep, fast, and impossible to cross. Attempting it would have been suicidal.

Stranded by the River

Waiting Out the Storm

With no way across, we had no choice but to wait out the storm. We pitched our tents under whatever shelter we could find, cold, soaked, and defeated, hoping the water levels would recede by morning.

One Last Push

Escape at First Light

Luckily, the rain stopped overnight, and by dawn, the river’s raging flow had calmed just enough for a safe crossing.

Cold, exhausted, and battered by the elements, we made it back—completing one of the most grueling, unforgettable hikes of our lives.

Calm before the storm

Calm before the storm

The storm rolling in

Brunt of the storm

We set up a makeshift shelter by the Hanakapiai River to camp, as the river’s high level made it impossible to cross. During the unexpected delay, we shared our food with fellow campers who had not brought enough provisions.