Post updated: December 06, 2024

Disclaimer: Please note that this hike took place several years ago, during a time when overnight stays in the Poamoho Cabin were permitted. Currently, sleeping in the cabin is no longer allowed. Additionally, while permits were secured for the entire trail during our adventure, today they are only necessary for accessing the 4x4 Hele Loa Access Road. As I understand it, the rules are often changing. Always check the latest regulations and trail conditions with the Department of Forestry and Wildlife before planning your hike. You can find them here: Poamoho Trail Permit. 

Distance - 21 miles RT  
Elevation Gain - 2,422ft 
Ascent Hiking Time: 5:43min 
Descent Hiking Time: 4:54min

Our day began with a drop-off on Paalaa Uka Pupukea Road at the gate accessing the Poamoho Hele Loa Access Road. Setting out early in the morning, we aimed to reach the cabin well before sunset. Equipped for the journey, we carried layers for warmth at higher elevations, rain jackets for unexpected weather, sun protection (hats, sunscreen, sunglasses), sleeping mats and bags for the cabin bunks, three liters of water each, iodine and a water filter for the cabin’s water catchment, cookware (stove, utensils, pot), and enough food for two lunches, one dinner, and breakfast the following day.

Our conversation buzzed with excitement over recent reports that the trail had been cleared by the Hawaiʻi Trail and Mountain Club (HTMC), making us eager to enjoy it in its most navigable condition. For the first 1.4 miles, the gravel road skirted the Helemano Military Reservation housing area, offering an interesting glimpse into family life on a military base. 

Soon, the road transitioned into a forested dirt road bordering agricultural lands, a subtle shift, hinting at the adventure ahead. With the many dirt road intersections, we initially worried about taking a wrong turn. However, as we continued, it became clear that navigation was simpler than expected—just stay straight and around 2.2 miles the road will make a slight curve to the right. Eventually, the road led us to a large fenced-in clearing where the only option was to make a hard right turn at around 2.9 miles. By this time we had gained only 350ft in elevation. 

From there, the ascent began, winding through groves of eucalyptus, paper bark trees, African tulips, and other non-native forest. The incline was steady, and the landscape shifted dramatically, which warmed us up for the higher elevations ahead. 

For the next 2.95 miles we continued on an uphill slope of 4x4 only dirt vehicle road. While it wasn’t necessarily strenuous hiking, it was uneventful. There is not much for views and the terrain isn’t especially interesting, lacking any notable features. However it is very shaded and somewhat cool even as the late morning sun rose higher. After gaining 1100 feet of elevation we made it to the trailhead. This marked the starting point for those who opt to drive the road in high-clearance vehicles, and to park their trucks. This is the official Poamoho Trailhead. 

From here, the trail was fairly well-groomed confirming, the rumors were true, that the HTMC had recently cleared back some of the overgrowth (a big mahalo to the club members!) The path made for easy hiking, and we welcomed a light breeze that began to filter through. Up until now, the hike had been in the lee of the mountains, so the tradewinds weren’t particularly strong, but the gentle airflow was now enough to cool us down. As we ascended, we started to catch glimpses of the Koʻolau foothills and neighboring ridges through breaks in the foliage. 

It was also clear that the landscape was shifting; here and there, we began to spot native plant species, including a koa tree

We soon reached a large wooden gate designed to keep motorbikes off the trail. After a quick wiggle around it, the trail began to open up as it hugged the ridge line with sheer cliffs off to the side, which offered expansive views of Oʻahu’s interior. 

Rounding the corner a little further, we came across a well placed bench. This was a perfect spot for us to take a hard earned break and enjoy a quick snack and stretch before continuing. From this vantage point, we could see all the way to the Waiʻanae Mountain Range, where the distinctive Kolekole Pass stood out prominently. Every time I get such a grand view of the pass, I can’t help but think about its historical significance. On December 7, 1941, Japanese aircraft flew along this very gap (some eyewitness claimed the planes actually flew through the pass) as they launched their surprise attack on Pearl Harbor. The pass served as a hidden, direct route from the North Shore to their first target, Wheeler Army Airfield, before continuing on to Pearl Harbor. Flying low through the mountain pass allowed the Japanese planes to evade detection until the last moments. Looking out, it’s almost surreal to imagine hundreds of warplanes intent on death and destruction swarming through the peaceful and picturesque landscape. 

All well-maintained sections of trail must come to an end, and we soon faced a sign marking the start of an unmaintained section. A second sign informed us that we were entering a native snail habitat. Personally, I can't remember seeing a sign like this on any other trail, and it immediately sparked my interest. If anyone reading this knows of other snail habitats in Hawaii, please email me at shane@adventuretourshi.com. The idea of walking through a protected habitat for the endangered Kāhuli, or Hawaiian tree snails, made the hike feel even more meaningful by connecting us to the native ecosystems. 

As we continued, the overgrowth became more challenging. Scratchy uluhe ferns stretched across the path, making progress slower and less comfortable. In hindsight, pants would have been a smart choice, as the ferns quickly proved to be rough on our bare legs. This eventually let up as we wound our way down into a sub-valley to cross the Helemano Stream. The trail then ascended out of the mini valley, rewarding us with a stunning view of the Poamoho Stream below. From this height, we could see a series of pools glistening in the sunlight—each one looking like a Hawaiian paradise for a hot day. What a joy it would be to lounge by a cold mountain pool, feeling the rush of running water over your skin, completely secluded in this high-elevation hanging valley. But alas, that enticing side quest would have to wait for another day.

Once above the Poamoho Stream we noticed a sprawling bog, its saturated landscape stretching across the high elevations like a natural sponge. From our vantage point, the marsh appeared untouched, a haven for native birds hidden among the dense vegetation. The shimmering surface and isolated stillness gave it an air of mystery, as though it held secrets meant only for nature itself. A place like this, so pristine and remote was a quiet reminder of the wilderness that thrives beyond the reach of man.

Hiking on, we finally reached the summit, marked by the Koʻolau Summit Trail (KST) sign. This sign is built into a large volcanic rock memorial to Geraldine Cline, a devoted member of the Hawaiian Trail and Mountain Club who dedicated much of her life to developing, persevering, and maintaining trails throughout Hawaiʻi. Her passion for connecting people with the natural beauty of these islands lives on through her legacy, commemorated at this stunning high point of the trail.

From the summit, we were greeted with tremendous views of windward Oʻahu. Punaluu Valley, Kahana Valley, and Waikane Valley stretched out before us, framed by the jagged ridgelines of Puu Manamana, Puu Piei, and Puu Ohulehule. Beyond, Kaneʻohe Bay shimmered just beneath the clouds, and farther in the distance, the ridges of Makapuʻu came into view.

Also in view was a walled off portion of the snail habitat that the earlier sign had mentioned. This area is part of a conservation effort to protect the endangered Kāhuli, or Hawaiian tree snails, which are native to these mountains. These small, beautifully patterned snails play a vital role in maintaining the forest ecosystem by feeding on decaying plant material, helping to recycle nutrients back into the soil. Once abundant, they now face severe threats from habitat loss and invasive predators, making them a symbol of the delicate balance required to preserve Hawaiʻi’s unique biodiversity. It being only about a 0.10 of a mile away, and since we were curious, we walked up to the exclosure for a brief moment. While it was interesting to see the measures taken to protect these rare creatures, there wasn’t much to look at. The snails are small, elusive, and remain hidden in the dense vegetation behind the walls. Still, knowing that we were in their habitat added a deeper sense of connection to the natural world we were traversing.

One thing to note was the intensity of the tradewinds, which rushed over the summit like a wind tunnel. It has turned from hot and sticky, to cold and blustery. The strong breezes brought a welcome coolness but made it just uncomfortable enough to discourage us from lingering too long. While the views were awe-inspiring, the high winds reminded us that this summit wasn’t a place for long rests. It was a point to pause, take in the reward of huge windward Oahu views, and move onward. At this point, the trail turned south along the Koʻolau Summit Trail (KST), running alongside a metal fenceline built to protect the native habitat from invasive pigs. This fenceline, installed by the Hawaiʻi Division of Forestry and Wildlife (DOFAW), is part of a larger conservation effort to preserve the delicate ecosystems of the ʻEwa Forest Reserve. The fence protects some of the most intact ʻōhiʻa forests on Oʻahu, home to 34 rare and endangered native plants and animals, from the destructive impacts of feral pigs. The trail itself became muddy and overgrown in sections, but the stunning views made every step worthwhile.

Quickly, the challenging terrain transitioned to a well-maintained boardwalk, also installed by DOFAW to reduce the impact of foot traffic on sensitive ecosystems. This thoughtful design not only provided a sturdy path for hikers but also played a vital role in preserving the fragile soil and native vegetation. The easy walking on the boardwalk, allowed us to soak in the sweeping panoramic views of East Oʻahu while we walked. So much of hiking is head down, focusing on your steps while looking at your feet. That’s why it’s such a delight to reach a section like the boardwalk, where you can stroll with ease and take in the sweeping views at the same time.

The boardwalk came to an end and we were back in the dirt. As we rounded the corner towards the west, the cabin came into a view. Although it is a very modest structure made of 2x4s, plywood walls with currugated metal panels, and a currogated metal roof, at that moment it looked like a mansion to us. We had made it and we were looking at our shelter for the night. 

The cabin itself is a simple structure, offering four bunks, a fold-out table, and a nearby outhouse. We quickly set our gear down, unpacked our sleeping pads and bags, and traded our muddy hiking boots for rubber slippahs. After settling in, we turned our attention to cooking a well-deserved meal, enjoying the quiet mountain atmosphere and the golden light of late afternoon streaming through the trees.

While exploring outside the cabin, we discovered a small hill tucked just behind it. From this perfect vantage point, we could see the Wahiawā Plateau stretching all the way to the Waiʻanae Mountain Range and Kaʻena Point. The late afternoon sun bathed the landscape in soft, golden light as we stretched out on the grass, basking in the warmth and serenity of the moment. Off in the distance, fluffy clouds began to roll in, their edges glowing in the sunlight as they crept closer. At first, we thought nothing of it, assuming the clouds would pass harmlessly by. Little did we know, they were about to transform the landscape into something extraordinary a phenomenon so breathtaking it would leave us completely awestruck.

That’s when the most spectacular sunset event of my life unfolded. Just as we were enjoying the golden glow of late afternoon, soaking in the sun’s warmth, a large group of clouds rolled in and completely enveloped our mountain while the sunset was occurring simultaneously. What happened next was beyond anything I had ever seen or even imagined. The cloud began to radiate with a golden-orange light, completely surrounding us in its surreal glow. Every tree and plant around us became dark, shadowy silhouettes against the fiery orange aura. Many times over the years I have watched vivid orange clouds at the tops of mountains during the sunset. But this time, we were inside it! It was one of the most remarkable experiences of me life. 

After 5–10 minutes, the phenomenon ended as abruptly as it began. The fiery glow faded, leaving us in the cool, damp darkness of twilight. Still trying to wrap our heads around what we had just experienced, we headed into the cabin for some much-needed rest, the memory of the surreal moment etched into our minds. The next morning, we woke to the gentle patter of light rain on the metal roof and found ourselves once again socked in by a cloud. After a quick breakfast, we packed up our gear, tidied the cabin, and even packed out some rubbish that wasn’t ours, always leaving a place better than we found it. With everything ready, we began our descent down the Poamoho Trail.

The ground was completely muddy, making the trek slippery and challenging. It took some tactical decisions, and a fair bit of ninja-like agility, to keep our socks dry as we navigated the muck. By now, we had learned how quickly the weather can shift in the Koʻolau Mountains. Sure enough, the fog eventually lifted, revealing clear blue skies and a vibrant Hawaiian rainbow arching across the landscape. From that point on, the weather remained perfect, making for an enjoyable descent back down the trail.