Well, it took a couple of tries but I finally managed to run from a small beach near the bottom of the Chain of Craters Road to the Summit of Mauna Loa. It took quite the effort to complete this adventure covering 54 miles and over 14,000 feet of elevation gain in 19:58:05. And when I was done I still needed 4 hours to descend to get to the safety of a van down by the Mauna Loa Observatory at 11,000 feet. In this trip report, I’ll describe a bit about how I prepared to run this route, how the day actually unfolded, and my final thoughts on the whole adventure.

The Preparation

Leading up to this run I needed to establish I was fit enough after attempting and failing to run this route less than 3 weeks earlier. What I determined was that the 34 mile, 7,000 foot gain run that was the failed attempt, was the perfect workout to get me to the start fit enough. The trick was determining when my body would have absorbed that workout. Eleven days later I added a 20 mile run around my neighborhood that had 2,000-foot gain and more importantly a quadriceps busting 8 mile, 2,000-foot descent. It took 5 days to recover from that final workout but I was able to really strengthen my legs and spend many days filling them with glycogen. So 19 days after the first attempt I felt quite confident my body was ready for the business of running this sea to summit. I’ll go into more detail in a future article on the science (or pseudo-science) of preparing for an adventure like this one. But that is the Cliffs Notes version of how my key workouts unfolded.

Notes on what I did the day leading up to the run.
The night before the run I got a great 9.5 hours of sleep and woke up at 12:45 pm. I had a few cups of coffee, started drinking Powerade, and ate no food until 4 pm. By the time I started hiking out to the beach at 8:45 pm I had drunk 5 cups of coffee, 2 quarts of Powerade and eaten 2 Clif Bars for the whole day. I felt my stomach and intestinal track was very clear which is the way I like it before a big event (TMI I’m sure – haaa). I have had so many intestinal issues in races over the years I’ve found the trick is to start with a clear digestive system, stay in a solid fat-burning zone, and consume around 200 calories of liquid/gel carbs per hour. I was able to maintain that for 20 hours without a bonk or stomach issue. So obviously I chose the right combination of effort and fuel for the day.

The Adventure Unfolds

I started Thursday, July 4th sleeping in until 12:45 pm and headed out of the house with packed gear by 3:30 pm. A couple of hours later I was on the other side of the island at the Mauna Loa Lookout stashing my upper mountain gear and a half-gallon of liquids. I then drove down the 34 miles leaving soft water flasks in strategic locations I would remember on the way up. By the time I reached my parking area near the bottom of the Chain of Crater’s Road, I had dropped 5 – 16-ounce flasks along the route.

I relaxed in my 4-Runner for about 20 minutes trying to clear my head and walk through each step of what I needed to execute over the next 24 hours. I then changed into my gear, locked the truck and headed casually down the 1.4 miles of lava flows to the ocean. The temperatures were warm down at the beach as the large waves crashed hard into the shore. I collected my water offering carefully timing the waves for a lull in the surf. I spent a minute offering some of my friend Jessie Taylor to the ocean and then got ready to start this adventure.

From The Ocean to the Lookout

It’s weird doing these adventures out in nature and carrying so much technology but it’s become part of my process nowadays. At 9:25 pm I pressed my Garmin InReach Satellite Tracking button and my Garmin 935 watch’s start button and confirm on my phone that the tracking has activated across all devices. This would allow for anyone I wanted to follow me (in particular my family) as well as make a solid recording of every detail of this workout. I then point my headlamp up the hill and start jogging through the lava flows and away from the little beach. Twenty-five minutes later I reached my truck, grabbed a couple of water flasks I left on my roof, and start running up the Chain of Crater’s Road. It is a new moon night and the sky was clear but dark. The weather was amazingly friendly compared to my attempt 3 weeks earlier. A 10 to 15 mph wind with no rain and a minor mist are all I would contend with for the next 8 hours of darkness.

Now my single greatest concern for the first few hours was to keep my effort low! In my aborted effort of the Sea to Summit of Mauna Loa 3 weeks earlier I determined this was my biggest mistake. I had spent the first 5+ hours at a heart rate of 149 bpm (beats per minute) which was easily 10 bpm higher than I should have been. So this day I was diligent and ensured my heart rate averaged 139bpm for the first 8 hours. This also kept me fairly slow and the 34 miles and 7,000 feet up to the Lookout took 8 1/2 hours at a pace of 15:12 min/mile pace. Not blazing fast but my energy at the lookout was fantastic and it felt obvious at this point I was going to go for the summit this day.

From the Lookout to the Red Cabin

I spent the next 20 minutes at the Lookout changing clothing and organizing my cached mountain gear and liquids into my running pack. I was efficient yet slow on purpose to really lower my heart rate and to warm up a bit. The sun had come up 30 minutes earlier but at 6,700 feet the temperature was a bit crisp when I wasn’t moving. Once everything was stowed properly I slipped on my pack, which definitely felt heavier, and I started up the 19.5 mile Mauna Loa Trail, heading for the summit.

Ten minutes into the Mauna Loa Trail the “trail” part of this journey ends, and the crossing of 19 miles of lava fields begins. The rest of the way to the summit is exceptionally hard to run, so except for the occasional jog on obvious straights I’m left to a brisk hiking pace. But I knew this going into the adventure. The Ahus (Cairn, stacks of rocks) that you have to follow are difficult to see even when your head is up. And your head is rarely looking up since you need to stare down to prevent yourself from rolling an ankle or worse. To give you an example of how extreme this is; for two days after the run, my trapezius muscles and neck were so sore (from constantly looking down) that I had a painful time awake or asleep. It felt like someone had stuck a hot poker into those muscles. I spent hours on the floor on my back trying to straighten my neck out. Needless to say, there was a price to pay for taking this route.

It would take a little over 3 hours to cover the next 7.5 miles to 10,000 feet and the Red Cabin. The day was gorgeous, my energy and motivation were high, and I could just tell this was going to be my day.

From The Red Cabin to the Summit

I reached the Red Hill Cabin at 9:45 am, 12:20 and 42 miles into this adventure. I didn’t have much time to appreciate my surroundings since I needed to filter 80 ounces of water, and get it into five 16 ounce soft flasks with my Skratch fuel (flavored drink mix with calories). My water filter is small and light and can only do 16 ounces at a time, so I spent around 30 minutes filtering water, reorganizing gear, and getting a little rest. I then headed out for the summit knowing that the next 12 miles were the serious part of this run. I needed to measure out my energy perfectly, stay ultra-focused on the meandering trail of Ahus, and be absolutely confident I could complete this mission. Beyond this point is where I was taking the greatest risk and turning back becomes almost as hard as continuing forward.

The next 7 hours felt like they went by excruciatingly slow. The terrain was so much harder to navigate, the fatigue had built up, the elevation was really starting to take effect, and my pace slowed down. The 25 min/mile pace just above the cabin deteriorated into 45 min/miles once I cross above 13,000 feet. As I reach the Summit Caldera I actually contemplated taking the escape route and getting to the Observatory and safety in just under 4 miles. If I continued to the summit (3 more miles) it would be 9.5 more miles to safety. Also, it was 3:30 pm and it would take another 2 hours to get to the summit at my waning pace. This would guarantee I would be going down in some darkness which will slow things down even more. Though the decision isn’t easy to make I only had to spend a couple of minutes thinking about it before I concluded that I had the energy to make it to the summit and I would deal with the descent when I got to it. Besides, there was no way I was going to get 51 miles into this adventure and bail. How painful would that be to have to come back and do it all over again – haaa?

The Summit

So at 5:23 pm I reached the summit. I’ve pushed the last mile hard to just get under 20 hours, and I had a hard time catching my breath. There were a few things I was supposed to do when I get to the top, but I had a hard time getting organized to do them. I pressed the stop button of my watch and just wandered around the summit in a mental fog. I finally just sat down for a couple of minutes and tried to ease my breathing and gather my thoughts. I hadn’t given myself a real break, mental or physical, for the entire run, but in 90 minutes it would be dark so I couldn’t fully just stop and smell the roses. I snapped a few photos and set up the GoPro to film me offering the ocean water I carried all the way to the summit. I then offer my friend Jessie Taylor to the summit breeze and let him know he is still on our minds even 7 years later. I tried to create and send a Facebook Post but there was no data connection. I tried to text and call Karen (my wife), but again no success. There was no sense wasting another minute at the summit. I said my final thank you to Mauna Loa for letting me make this passage to her summit, slipped a headlamp on, and started hustling down the volcano.

I had spent 20 minutes on the summit, and around an hour into my descent, the sky was dark. I turned my headlamp on and my pace radically slowed. Finding ahus in the dark above 11,000 feet with a fatigued mind and body was no picnic. So the 4-hour, 6.2-mile descent, took everything I had to keep it together and not wipe out and injure myself. I felt surprisingly strong and focused but this descent is always sketchy in the dark. Ultimately though, I made it to the van and my family, just under 24 hours after I began this journey. I’d been in perpetual motion and alone for an entire day and I savored the stillness on the warm soft seat and the chatter of my favorite people all around me. Finally, I could let my guard down, knowing I was safe and this amazing odyssey had come to an end.

Relive ‘Sea to Summit of Mauna Loa’

Final Thoughts

There are seriously shorter and easier ways to run from the Sea to Summit of Mauna Loa. Adding 20 miles of lava field crossing to reach the summit also changed the “running” aspect of the journey. It felt practically impossible to run and follow ahus from 10,000 to 13,000+ feet. At least to me, it felt impossible, in the fatigued state I was in after the 41 miles and 10,000 feet of gain I had accumulated. Yet taking this route and doing it in the self-supported style I chose really allowed me to test myself not only physically, but mentally as well. So, at the end of the day, the summit was awesome. Yet, more importantly, I felt I still had that adventurer inside me that I thought I had lost 20 years ago when I broke my back in the fall that ended my climbing career. This adventure reminded me there is so much more I can do if I set my mind to it. And that being 54 years old is not so much an athletic limiter as it is a lifetime of experience to draw from. So I really need to think much bigger if I truly want to find my limits. And Mauna Loa was a great start in the right direction.

Suggested Links:

• Link to my Fact Sheet (how to do this route) – coming soon
• Link to Strava file
• Link to Fastest Known Time (FKT) site