In terms of bang for the buck, the switchback-heavy trail zig-zagging down the cliffs of Pololu Valley at the northern tip of Big Island is the hike with the greatest payoff at the end for the least amount of huffing and puffing.
The trail isn’t long: just a little over half a mile, but it does drop nearly 500 feet from the cliffside viewpoint and trailhead down to the valley floor at sea level, where the mouth of a meandering river running through the middle of Pololu empties out at the beach. A grove of ancient ironwood trees grow here at the confluence of fresh and salt water, set just up from the beach and running parallel to it across the entire mouth of the valley. Footpaths lined with rocks wind through the trees, built with an astonishingly painstaking amount of manual labor, and deliver visitors from one side of beach to the other where they can access still more trails that start to climb the cliffs up into next valley over.
The ironwood forest at the bottom is sprinkled with makeshift campsites, even though tent camping is technically not allowed in the valley, which is only set up for day-use hikers and swimmers. A handful of rope swings, in various stages of weathering, can be found dangling from where they’re tied up far overhead, lashed to branches of the exceptionally strong (and appropriately named) wood. Farther up the valley, the wide mouth of the river gets narrower until it turns into marsh, which had made for ideal farmland for countless generations of ancient Hawaiians farmers, who grew staple crops like taro – the starchy root crop from which the dish “poi” is made – in the perennially wet and exceptionally fertile volcanic soil. In Hawaiian, “Pololu” means “long spear”.
The valley floor beyond the grove is made up of lush, green meadows, sometimes frequented by packs of wild horses who graze away lazily on the abundance of overgrown marshland grasses. It is a serene, peaceful and meditative place, where the only sounds to be heard are splashing waves, singing birds, rustling trees and the gurgle of river water babbling over rounded stones on its downhill journey. On weekend afternoons and holidays, crowds can sometimes be gathered here at the trail’s terminus, with some groups arriving and others preparing to make the much more arduous trek back up to the overlook and parking lot. But on weekday mornings during tourism’s off-season, especially after a several-day stretch of rain showers, it is possible to find the place deserted except for the birds, butterflies and horses.
The impromptu campsites make for great picnic areas, most of them situated in the shade of the ironwood canopy, and are good spots to dry off after a morning of bodyboarding and splashing around in the surf. The ground underneath the trees is littered with their needles, which build up over many seasons into matted clumps. So, sometimes its necessary to do a bit of makeshift raking in order to secure a decent shady spot to lie down. A constant onshore breeze comes in from the ocean and filters through the forest, occasionally with enough force to whip up the finely ground black sand inhabiting the beach. This air movement keeps the rock-lined trails and sprawling complex of sitting logs cool on sunny summer days when hikers are more than likely to break a sweat on the way down.
At Trail’s End, A Hidden Gem: Pololu Beach
These sandy, breezy chill spots in the forest are a welcome respite from the hot Hawaiian sun, but not nearly as much as a dip in the electric blue waters of Pololu Beach. Being able to safely and comfortably swim here largely depends on tidal conditions, with low tides revealing a long, almost flat sandbar stretching out for a considerable distance offshore perfect for swimming, and with high tide swallowing the sandy patches and leaving a stout beach of lava boulders, which tumble with the crashing waves and make for an exceptionally hazardous ocean entry and exit.
So, if you plan on tacking on an afternoon of swimming to your morning hike to the valley floor, consult a tide chart beforehand and pick a day to visit with a sufficiently low tide around noon. Big Island surfers swear that there’s a decent surf break a few hundred feet offshore, and visitors will occasionally spot the peculiar sight of a burly local schlepping their board down the precarious switchback trail with only one free hand, headed to the beach and a strenuous paddle out to catch some waves.
On days with large enough beach break, boogie boarders can sometimes be spotted, too, having hiked down with their gear as well, although with significantly less effort. The shoreline of flat, even sand makes for an ideal ride, and they can be seen waiting for the critical moment when a wave has just crashed across the beach to take a running leap onto their boards and skid across the water into the barrel of the next wave in the set.
One of Seven Valley Cut Into The Flanks Of An Ancient Volcano
The winding trail down to Pololu Beach is rocky and badly eroded in some places, with no guardrails to keep hapless hikers from tumbling over the edge of the cliff, and can get slippery after an all-too-often rain shower of Big Island’s wet side. So, slow and steady footsteps, placed with good shoes – not flip-flops – are the name of the game while navigating the entrance to the verdant valley.
And although all this rain is precisely what’s responsible for the washed-out, often-muddy condition of the trail, it’s also this same natural force – erosion, to be precise – that created Pololu Valley in the first place. More than 100,000 years ago, Kohala Volcano – one of the five volcanoes making up Hawaii Island’s landmass – erupted for the last time and fell dormant.
The interminable rainclouds coming in from the Pacific Ocean continued to drop their precipitation, which ran down the now quiet mountain’s flanks in its headlong dash to the sea. Over the eons, the rushing water washed away great sections of rock, carving into the old volcano seven distinct valleys that made ideal homes for intrepid Polynesian settlers who would arrive to the island much later. This unfathomably slow process of erosion is what has created the towering 500-foot-high cliffs of Pololu Valley now seen today from the overlook, as well as its host of gulches, gorges, streams and waterfalls.
How To Get There
Pololu Valley is accessible via the small, bohemian town of Hawi (pronounced “HAH-VEE”) found near Big Island’s northernmost point. From Hawi’s main road, continue along Highway 270, otherwise known as Hawi-Niuli’i Road, passing through the neighboring villages of Kapaau and Halaula heading east.
A few sections of the road beyond this point are one-lane, so obey all yield signs and keep an eye out for cars coming around hairpin turns. Keep right at the turn for Keokea Beach Park, and in another two miles Pololu Valley’s narrow cliffside parking lot and overlook will come into view. Pull-in parking spots here are limited and usually filled up on afternoons and weekends, but there’s usually plenty of informal parallel parking along the road’s shoulder leading back up the hill.
There are no amenities whatsoever to be found at either the trailhead or at Pololu Beach – not even portable toilets. So, ensure to pack in all necessary supplies, including sun protection and bug spray, beach gear, trail snacks and ample amounts of drinking water. Wildlife enthusiasts will find that a pair of binoculars will come in handy to get a better look at the myriad species of birds milling around the forest canopy, and for visits to Pololu Beach during winter months when humpback whales are often spotted just offshore.
Hawi is a pretty far-flung town, almost equal distance from both of the island’s main population centers: Hilo and Kona. It has its requisite commercial strip of restaurants, curio shops, gas station, grocery and hardware stores, but outside of that the landscape becomes very rural very fast. Finding hiking and swimming gear can be difficult to downright impossible in town, and even Hawi residents will tell of having to make frequent trips to the medium-size ranch town of Waimea roughly 40 minutes away to get most supplies.
So stock up on provisions at supermarkets in Hilo or Kona, and keep in mind that on the way north Waimea is the last stop for many essentials. Nakahara Store is the town’s only grocery shop, located in the same building as its Post Office near Kohala Zipline. For visitors who happen to plan their valley hike and beach day on a weekend, Hawi Farmers’ Market is open from 8:00am to 12:30pm on Saturdays at the intersection of Highway 270 and Highway 250 in downtown Hawi. From here, Pololu Valley Overlook is roughly eight miles away.
