While in my hammock i was handed a stick

The Walking Stick

When I first arrived on Kauai it was nighttime, it was raining, I had never been to the island, and I had no plan for what I was going to do. For the first time in 2 months I decided to get a bed in a hostel. I took the bus and got settled in for the night. I came to the island to hike the 11 mile Kalalau Trail along the steep cliff edge of the Na Pali coast, to the back-country wilderness Kalalau valley where I would camp for a couple weeks. In the morning I learned many people at the hostel had the same plan, but they were stuck at the hostel because the trail was closed because it had been raining for weeks straight and the river crossings were too dangerous. Not letting the news from keeping from getting out and exploring, I went to the other side of the island to the Waimea Canyon. 

Here is where the story of starts with "The Walking Stick". I head out on a trail and pick up a walking stick that is resting against a tree at the trailhead  with a bunch of other sticks. But this stick is Perfect! It is extremely light weight, yet very strong. It is the right height and thickness and has a nice grip for my hand. It is a beautiful stick with all the bark stripped off. Above all it has clearly seen some miles from the look of it. 

So I start hiking with it and it comes in a lot of help as I slip and slide down the hill in the mud on a trail that is in a place known to be one of the wettest places on Earth (getting more than 400 inches of rain a year). This trail I head out on is an 11 mile loop, but a section half way is closed due to a mud slide that washed out a stretch of the trail. I only make it a couple miles in before it gets dark. That night on the ridge the wind ripped at my tarp and the constant rain and flapping of the tarp all night long soaks me to the bone. At 3,000 ft the cold wind and rain makes the worst night sleep I have ever had. In the morning the wind is still blowing but the rain has stopped. I hike back to the park headquarters to fill up on water before I head to the sunny side of the island to dry out and warm up. 

The next couple of days the sun comes out. I dry out, the trail dries out, and the rivers go back to normal levels, allowing me to cross and head out on the Kalalau. As I head out on the trail I realize I dont have my walking stick and I must have left it somewhere in all the hurry of the wind and rain in an effort to dry out. I head out on the Kalalau Trail nonetheless. 

The trail starts where the road around the island ends. After 11 miles of one of the most beautiful trails on Earth, I finally make it to the much anticipated Kalalau Valley. On the beach at the end of the trail I meet up with friends who I hear hiked the trail the morning after I arrived on the island (the same day I was planning on starting). Anyway, I finally made it to a place where I can stay and not be on the move constantly ninja camping. I make a fire and keep it going for 5 days just hanging out in my hammock. 

One day while in my hammock, a man walks up to me without saying a word and hands me The Stick. I instantly recognize it as my walking stick, and he knows I know the stick. After some explaining he tells me he saw me leave it when I was filling up on water, and he has been hiking with it since. I thank him for returning it to me and I continue to hike with it for the next couple of weeks. Meanwhile I use other sticks here and there but this one sticks with me. 

Eventually my time on the island is coming to an end, but I make it back to Waimea Canyon for one last hike; the 11 mile loop that I never finished. The trail where I found the stick and the story began. This time with the intent of completing it, despite the section of the trail still being closed. As I am hiking the final trail over the washed out section, the stick cracks. It still holds together but as I continue to hike on it the tip breaks off. I push it back together like a puzzle piece and it still works and holds together. After making it past the washed out section of trail where I needed the stick it finally comes apart and can not be held together any more. As I am holding the spear like piece and the dagger like piece I see a couple of wild boars on the trail. Knowing they could charge and attack, I hold the two now sharpened pieces ready to defend myself. But no attack occurs and I continue with my two pieces of my walking stick that has been with me for my month on the island. The longer piece still just long enough, but now with a sharpened tip. 

As I am hiking and running out of food and day light before I need to make it back to camp, I come across an orange tree. I climb the tree and pick some oranges and use the sharp dagger piece to cut the oranges for lunch. Eventually, with some extra energy, I make it back to the trailhead where I first found the stick. Not wanting to just leave it, I find a couple looking through some of the walking sticks at the trail head. I tell them the whole story of the stick and give it to the women who is shorter than me and matches the new height of the stick just right. They tell there plans to hike the Kalalau Trail with their new walking stick and when they are done with it, pass it on to the next people. For all I know the stick and its story are still in the Kalalau Valley being passed on from hiker to hiker.