Olomana Trail: Happy ending!

Tragedy was averted at yesterday's Olomana TM (12 Dec 2004). Two of our group fell, in one case 150 feet and in another 125. Both were able to hike out.

Mel Yoshiokia was the first to fall, doing so while descending from Peak 2 to the saddle between 2 & 3. He fell to the mauka side of the mountain, "taking out four trees" as he careened down the mountainside, according to Mike, who was ahead of Mel on the descent at the time.

At that moment, the group I was with, which included my wife Jacque, was making the final approach to the summit of Peak 3, having just made our way past the hole-in-the-rock section and climbed the steep roped section just past that.

As were making our way carefully along, I stopped when I heard loud crashing thru the trees behind me back toward Peak 2. At first, I thought it was a boulder someone had dislodged. I'd heard the sobering sound before. It was different this time, though. Interspersed with the sounds of impact on trees and bushes and rocks were yells from a human voice. My God, someone had fallen.

My heart sank at that moment. But there was also an adrenaline rush. Who was it? Could he (or she) possibly have survived that fall?

I yelled out to those near me, including Jacque who was just ahead of me, that someone had fallen and to head back toward the P2/P3 saddle. I then realized that in our angst and adrenaline-laden state that we were moving hastily down the ridge. Not wanting another accident, I told Jacque and others within earshot not to rush, especially along the narrow and sheer ridge of P3. "We can't help the person who fell if we fall," I said.

I was the first of our group to reach the top of the long, steep rope section just prior to the hole in a rock. Jacque was right behind me and Dick Cowan right behind her. As I went down the section, I told Jacque to wait till I was clear before she descended.

As I neared the bottom of the rope, I was extra careful, moving slowly to get down what I consider the worst rock area of the P3 ridge (pictured below).

As I repositioned my body chest-to-rock to climb down, I noticed Jacque was just a few feet behind me, having descended the section before I was clear.

I scolded her for not waiting till I was down. Sad-faced, she settled into a little niche in the rock to wait till I had finished the descent of the section. Once I was down, I yelled that I was clear. Jacque then followed.

I continued descending, looking forward to negotiate the still narrow ridgeline.

I then heard Dick yell, "Oh shit!!"

"What is it?" I yelled back.

"Jacque fell!" was the reply.

Knowing where she had fallen from, I thought the unthinkable: she was gone. I first yelled, "Shetttt......" at the top of my voice. And then, with tears welling in my eyes and my heart feeling like it had been pierced, I yelled her name, equally as loud.

Amazingly, thanks to God, there was a reply.

It was that familiar voice. Jacque's She yelled my name, in a clear, loud response. I'll always remember that. The beautiful sound of her voice.

The next order of business was to try and get to her. Dick took the lead, affixing a 100-foot rope to a fixed pin in the rock. Right where the hole-in-the-rock makai bypass regains the main ridge, Dick went down on the mauka side. He followed a shelf, partially protected by Xmasberry. After disappearing around a cleft in he ridge, he found Jacque.

She was okay, he said. She had some cuts on her head and plenty of abrasions and bruises. But she was okay.

Dick proceeded to apply a bandage (actually a feminine napkin and duct tape) to Jacque's head wound. Dusty Klein and Ed Gilman also followed the shelf to assist. They helped Jacque back to the trail. Mahalo to them.

During this time, we found out via walkie talkie transmissions that the person who had fallen first was Mel, who miraculously despite a long crash and tumble plunge, was able to climb back to the P2/P3 saddle area with and assist from Mike, who threw Mel a rope.

After getting Jacque back to the trail, we all headed back carefully down to the P2/P3 saddle. Jacque, even after her brush with death, was upbeat and full of energy, describing her fall and the three to four times she bounced before finally coming to a stop on her back, upside-down, with one leg hooked around a tree. At that point, she had the wherewithal to climb up 25 feet to a higher, safer location where Dick ultimately found her.

At the saddle, we came upon Mel and others who were huddled around him to assist. He was banged up and had pains in his ribs (a later hospital visit indicated that he had three ribs broken). Though being banged up herself, Jacque, who works in the Queen's Medical Center ER, helped tend to Mel. Amazing.

At that point, we formulated a plan to descend a "trail" Scott Villiger had marked. It went makai from the saddle to eventually reach the old Kalanianaole Highway. This exit seemed to be a better option than climbing back up to Peak 2 then Peak 1 then descending Peak 1 back to the trailhead.

With walkie talkies and cell phones, we even arranged to have trucks (driven by Bill, Mabel, and Peter) waiting to pick us up.

This descent took us about an hour. We kept an eye of Mel and Jacque as we hiked. Plenty of support and good cheer from good people. Mahalo to Scott for leading us down, and to Tom Yoza, Jason Sunada, Ed, and others for doing some clearing to make the way easier to negotiate.

Just as we had worked out, the trucks were waiting for us when we hiked out. Jacque and I were driven over to Castle Hospital. Darrell later accompanied Mel to Castle. Jacque and Mel, though banged up, will recover in time. Both, I'm sure will do plenty of hiking in the years ahead.

An eventful day on the mounatain, no doubt. God was smiling on us all. Go HTMC! --dkt