Wailua River, Meet My Pretty Purple Sauconys
Two weeks before Kauai, I met Nick in the REI on Houston St. after work. For weeks, Nick had been debating whether he would bring his hiking boots or trail-runners on our trip, and after doing a little reading, we decided that it made sense for me, having neither, to invest in a pair of trail runners. Lightweight but supportive and ventilated, trail-runners are a functional alternative to hiking boots, and dry quickly. In a tropical climate, like Hawaii, our feet were bound to get wet, but not cold, so we reasoned that quick-drying shoes would better serve me over boots. Plus, I was all for an option that spared me break-in time and blisters. I quickly settled on the Saucony 8's and in money-saving mode, noticed that the bright purple pair were nearly $20 cheaper than more subdued color choices. I was sold. Nick, the recipient of an REI gift card for his 40th birthday, spent over two hours trying on nearly every model of Osprey packs and hiking around the store while I read my book by the inflatable mattresses.
Fast forward 14 days, and we were dragging a kayak made for two into the Wailua River in Kauai. After an overcast morning with scattered rain-showers, a brilliantly sunny day had broken through, and we were, it seemed, in Eden. The shop owner instructed us to paddle two miles north up the Wailua River, until we got to a little beach, where we could park our kayak, and venture on a 3 mile hike (6.1 miles out and back) to the Uluwehi Falls, better known as Secret Falls. He introduced us two his blind white cat, and they both seemed totally unconcerned about when and if we would be back.
Floating and paddling down the Wailua River, as a relatively new couple on our first trip, we sank into the excited silence of being together in a new, spectacular place. I felt like I was buzzing from the sun and the water and anticipation of this trip which was so different from my day to day life in New York. It was hard to imagine we were on the same planet we had lived in the day before, and difficult to recall why we lived the way that we lived when a place like this existed.
We got to the “beach”, which was really a river bank with a bunch of kayaks scattered on the shore, and I traded my flip flops for my Saucony’s, and my feet promptly sank deep into thick mud a few feet from shore. “Oh no!” Exclaimed a middle-aged hiker with her husband, “Your pretty purple shoes!” I smiled and responded that this is what they’re for, and we trekked into a the forest.
The three mile hike to the falls was a perfect first hike for me on this trip. I was admittedly nervous that as a beginner, I would hold Nick back or annoy him by being slow or clumsy. He, of course, reassured me, that going fast wasn’t the point, and besides, there was lots of time to learn. He found me a big stick that came up to my shoulder which helped me stay steady through the mud and multiple stream crossings. The hike was moderately trafficked by families, and small groups of people, and, most notably, chickens. Chickens, we would come to find, were extremely overpopulated in Kauai due to a hurricane that ravaged through the island’s chicken coops. Set free, chickens did what chickens do, and soon the chicken population was totally overrun. Since it wasn’t the early morning, we loved talking to the chickens we came across and assigning them dignified names like Reginald and Henry. We were particularly charmed by one fine gent whose feathers seemed to resemble the American flag so accurately that for a moment, we were concerned about a case of animal cruelty. But no, it seemed he came by his patriotism naturally.
The Uluwehi Falls, were absolutely FREEZING, but there was no way we weren’t going in. I was surprised by the simplest things, awkward and uncertain as I tried to navigate the sharp stony rocks on my bare feet. It was easier to just get in and swim — to fully immerse myself in the freezing cold water. Nick was swimming ahead of me toward the waterfall. “We have to!” He said without a question, looking towards a father and his son inching themselves between the back of the waterfall and the stone cliff. My teeth chattered with nerves and I clung to the cliff for as long as I could, already getting blasted by the impact of the running water hitting the surface of rocks and more water. I screamed as we swam up behind it and could barely see or breathe as water poured down around us. It was overwhelming and liberating. So much so that I smacked my shin on a protruding rock in the cliff, marking my first hike of the trip, and the first waterfall swim of my life with a blue badge of honor. I could not stop smiling, even as we paddled against the current back to shore, and I marched my muddy shoes that had once been purple back to our Jeep.
