Heat Wave

I’m probably in the best shape I’ve been in a long time, thanks to all the fresh fruit and vegetables, the surfing and swimming and daily jogs on the beach I’ve been doing, but even so the start of the trail isn’t easy. It snags and swerves, hugging the edges of the cliffs, the path of red dirt narrow in sections. Logan leads the party, followed by Daniel, then Nikki, then me. I’m slow, so every time Nikki looks over her shoulder at me, I have to give her a reassuring wave to keep going.

We reach the first view part of the trail, where a lot of people turn around. I’m breathing hard, sweat streaming off my face as I try and take a picture of Ke’e Beach from above. Here, you can see how clear the water is, the color is a brilliant blue, interspersed with dark reef. Waves lap the golden shore as the palm trees sway in the breeze. It’s dizzyingly beautiful, and even though I know my company must have seen this all a million times, I take a moment to soak it all in. I’m also trying to catch my breath and not look like I’m having a fucking heart attack.

Honestly, if that was the whole hike, I’d be satisfied. I want to tag along with one of the groups heading back down the hill, go jump in the ocean to cool off, and pass out on the sand.

Alas, Logan clears his throat, a signal to keep going. And so we do.

And the trail starts to get a little more extreme. I would have thought that the parts where the trail follows the outermost near-vertical cliffs would have been the hardest for me. I mean, I get dizzy with great heights and there’s nothing but sheer drops for hundreds of feet until it meets the ocean. The roar of the wild waves smashing against the rocks far far below is deafening even from all the way up here.

But actually, the worst parts of the trail are when they switchback and head away from the coast. Here the jungle is the thickest, there’s a fine mist in the air, and everything is dripping with humidity. I don’t think these nooks and crannies get any sun to dry them out, and the path turns into a rust-colored mud bath. I watch Nikki eat shit and slip right on her ass, then Daniel almost do the same. The hikers up ahead of us also bail as they round a corner where the path disappears and becomes slippery rocks you have to scale over. I try not to laugh because I know that’s going to be me in a minute.

Everyone else is using the wooden poles to help them but I wouldn’t trust anything other than my own body, even as we come to a stream that cuts across the path, more slippery rock to navigate on both sides.

The last thing I want to do is fall, so I’m going as slow as I can, and while everyone is stepping over the rocks and sliding around, I’m using my hands to balance, going across like a crab. I don’t care if I look like a fool and my hands are covered in red mud, every part of me is a mess by now.

“Here,” Logan says.

I cautiously look up from the rocks to see him holding out his hand for me. I’ve paused on the top of one slick rock and have spent the last few minutes trying to figure how to get down without killing myself. I mentioned early that I didn’t have good balance, right? Well it’s really being put to the test here.

“Take my hand,” he says, more like an order than anything.

I want to push him away and insist I can do it myself. I think he knows that too, that’s why when I look into his eyes I see a wariness in them. He expects me to reject him.

So I don’t. I nod and give him my hand and put all my weight on him as I step down off the stone. When my feet hit the slick ground beneath, I slide but he’s got me. He’s as solid as a tree and he’s got me.

I blow a wet strand of hair off my face and look up at him. “Thanks.”

“No worries,” he says as he gradually let’s go of my hand. He then looks to Daniel and nods. “Keep moving. I have a feeling a system is moving in.”

Daniel and Nikki start moving up the trail as it heads back alongside the cliff, and to my surprise, Logan stays with me, walking just a foot or two ahead. I’m staring at the wall of his sweaty back, his shirt clinging to it. It’s a shame he’s not taking it off. I mean, that can’t be comfortable.

“How can you tell a system is coming in?” I ask. “Weather report said it was supposed to be partly cloudy. Least that’s what my phone said.”

“Never trust your phone here,” he says. “I can just tell. You pick up on the changes.” He breathes in deep and I watch his back rise, mesmerized. “Smell that? That’s rain. Somewhere up in Waimea Canyon, but it’s coming here and soon.”

“Well I don’t think this trail can get any more wet.”

“You’d be surprised,” he says just as my feet slip. I yelp as I reach out and grab onto his waist, my arms wrapping around him.

“Easy now,” he says, sounding amused.

I swallow hard and take in a deep breath, carefully moving my feet so I’m back upright. “That was close.”

“And if you fall, you fall,” he says. “If anyone gets back up, it’s you.”