Well, the thunder should have given me a hint. The winds that broke my deck umbrella another clue. And the mud flowing over my retaining wall, just a slight idea that the trails may be damp. Since I have a pre-negotiated schedule with my wife, I didn’t have a choice. So come Sunday morning during the teeth of the slicing rain, I ventured forth to run from PP to JG a few times.
The river that replaced the road leading to the trail head was interesting to wade through. No one was there to chat with (losers) so I kept going. Officially ready to start, the rains became even heavier with excitement for me. The Class V rapids were impressive as was the flowing trail over my shoes. Never before have I seen so many rivers crossing the trail. At the cutoff near the falls, I was greeted by heavy winds forced on me by Niagara Falls’ sister that was splashing onto the trail. No, there was no mud to be found on me by then.
Waterfalls continued to live above me no matter how far I climbed. When I finished forging the rivers up the switchbacks, I thought I could wade through Pauoa Flats easily. Then I saw a puddle that looked like Lake Pontchartrain (no Katrina reference intended). Of course, I leaped then though about how deep it might be and to my dismay, there were no pies under the 3 feet of water. Leon forgot to anchor them down. As I swam across the lake using my transition skills from years of triathlon racing, I just new Nuuanu would be bone dry.
In the water park of Nuuanu, I was greeted by the rivers that seem to grow from some unknown force adding more water ever second. I just jumped across them holding my flashlight with a vice grip since that was my only light. I assumed it was get brighter with daylight (wrong again). Through the descending adventure to Judd trail, I heard the ever building presence of an outboard motorboat race. Maybe Monica was not hallucinating that year, and there really are boats in the stream. But actually, it was the Class VI river that decided to flow over its bank causing me to scramble over rocks to keep on the side trail. I needed to get to high ground and refill my water bottles. Then I realized that with all this water, I only drank 12 ounces on the way over. I was good to go. Note to those male readers. When it rains and you are submerged in cold water for hours on end, the obsessive urge to pee is normal. I was faced with 4 urges per 5.5 mile leg and it’s not the age.
Excellent day to do repeats.