Trifter

The beauty of the Big Island of Hawaii can be deceiving. From a distance the two giant mountains seem to rise into the heavens. No matter where you are located on the island of Hawaii Mauna Kea and Mauna Loa represent mountains in a huge way. Their size in the thirteen thousand feet range will dominate any landscape. One active and one dormant these volcanoes attract flocks of tourist by the thousands.

Not only can one see actual lava flowing, one can also ski on real snow or explore the universe from some of the best observatories in the world. The most common method of exploring these massive mountains is either by helicopter or by four wheel drive vehicle. Some will go on leisure hikes to enjoy it’s beauty from up close. But what I volunteered for one winter day has to be one of my greatest blunders in my young life.

After encouraging my best Marine buddy to accompany me on the journey to the summit of Mt. Mauna Kea I often wonder why he remained my friend. Our training base is located at the base of the gigantic mountain. It’s nick name is PTA, or Pohukaloa Training Area. It is an old Army base located in between the two mountains just off of Saddle Road. The elevation here is about six thousand eight hundred feet.

Lava is everywhere and this is the Marine Corps live fire play ground. The training is rough and the time off is well deserved. So when volunteers were asked for to climb the rock, I was one of the first idiots with my hand high up in the air. The trek would commence on Saturday morning at 0800. Our group would be comprised of a corpsmen, twenty grunts, and two very very naive radio operators.

As usual a radio was soon attached to my already fatigued back. No special gear was needed, only our “deuce gear” and soft covers would accompany us on this day. Extra water and snacks were also brought with us to render aid when needed. After morning chow and some calisthenics “H” hour was upon us. The journey up seven thousand plus feet had begun and everyone was all smiles.

In order to summit a mountain in one piece you must climb in a “zig zag” fashion. To walk directly upwards towards the top would result in a heart attack at some point. No one climbs in this fashion, it is just impossible unless you have years to accomplish this mission. So off we went. The sun shining, soft breeze blowing and the birds were softly gliding through the crisp winter air. Zigging and zagging this phase of the climb was a walk in the park. We were smoking and joking as we attacked the countless feet of solid earth. Our leaders estimation was to accomplish this mission in about six and a half hours.

Or somewhere in that time frame. The peak is not visible from our position due to the fact that this mountain is just enormous in size. It is as if one mountain is stacked on top of another. So as we would reach what seemed like a summit, another tiny summit was visible out in the distance. The soil down here is loose and comprised of smaller rocks. As the elevation increases so does the size of the rocks. Like a cruel game of follow the leader this adventure quickly became a nightmare for our group. Who new hell existed at such a high elevation.

The sun began to take it’s toll. Although our elevation was increasing the glare of the sun also decided to increase in it’s intensity. Chapstick and sunscreen became the norm. Even for the “dark green” Marines sunscreen was a must. As we rested to eat our chow I realized this view was priceless. So a tourist I became and snapped away. My disposable camera became my best friend as others had not foreseen the need to bring one.

Puff on the last hit of my cigarette and off we went. Soreness was now beginning to hinder me. My feet were noticeably becoming extremely heavier than usual and my head became a bit light. Others were experiencing the same symptoms as I was. But we kept it hush hush as every bad to the bone Marine would do. My hushness lasted only about another half hour. My boots scraping along and my walk without purpose. By this time the officer in charge gathered his men and made his speech.

“From this moment forward no one will be allowed to quit. Due to the fact that helicopters can not fly this high we must all go on. If one of us can not go on then this is where you go back”. To no ones surprise no body took up his offer that afternoon and like burros in the grand canyon off we went again.

After yelling for the “doc” I explained that every muscle in my body was beginning to cramp up. He said “this is normal at high altitudes.” I was starting to walk side ways instead of forward and my every piece of equipment seemed to of have tripled in weight. As we continued my shortness of breath was starting to make me worry. I now knew I must control my breathing or I would be in for a very memorable unwanted day. My buddy relieved me of my radio duties and my water started to weigh me down. One foot in front of the other we continued up Mt. Mauna Kea.

I was not the only Marine in pain that day but that didn’t make me feel any better. I must say the view three hundred and sixty degrees round was “moon” like. Massive slabs of rock were piled on top of each other. At times the enormous slabs became huge round boulders. Nothing little enough to hold in our hands. It then dawned on me that I could be the first Marine to ever walk on certain rocks. And I could also be the first Marine to die on a particular rock. Our column of Marines and one sailor seemed to be spread out very far. Stragglers were starting to drift noticeably to much to either side. Zig zagging was no longer a must but zigging was the plan of the day. Cool air burns the throat as hot flames burn the feet. Sweat when hit by wind quickly becomes chilly and dries to form salt marks.

Uniforms are flapping in the wind as the weather becomes unpredictable. We are now in heaven and the pain will not let up. Walking through clouds will definitely make one contemplate his decision to volunteer for anything. The clouds are cool and wet and can be moved by swatting at them. Man will do anything to occupy his mind to keep from going crazy when his limits are being tested. So a swatting Marines I was. We finally managed to clear the clouds and then we took another break. Salt tablets and water went down like steak and beer. At this point the human body does not know what it wants. Stopping only prolonged the pain so our breaks were cut shorter and shorter.

To light headed and winded to puff one up, but what the hell we all gotta die sometime. Cigarettes at this elevation taste like crap. Come to think of it everything up here taste like crap. It’s a very strange feeling when one looks around and sees no one and nothing familiar. The look downhill is temporarily covered by the clouds and no animals aside from us can be seen or heard. If one was to meet his maker up here it would definitely be a very peaceful way to go. The sound is eerily quiet and no echo exist. We are on land not many have stepped foot on nor have many seen. The summit is not gonna come to us so once again we saddle up and suck it up!

The pace is extremely slow and our column is undisciplined. At times it seems to me as if zombies are behind me. Our movements are unpredictable and our appearances are of pure exhaustion.The human body when pushed to extreme limits will show you who is in charge. A strong mind on this day nets you a huge advantage. We started like a walk in the park and now we are walking with the devil. Like a ton of rocks thrown out a window down goes a Marine. He twitches and will now receive a “shot” of adrenaline. I notice he is twitching on a huge black rock. It’s the only black rock up here. I’m guessing this mountain was a bit prejudice. By the time I reach SGT “Twitch a lot” he is doing better.

He babbles something to me and I babble back. Quitting is never an option but suicide is often contemplated. The problem is there is nothing to kill ourselves with up here. I remember thinking to myself “if ever I was to grow wings and fly, this would be a good time for it to happen.” I had had it. No mas for this cowboy. See you all in hell…Hallucinations become common through my eyes and I begin to question whether the summit was meant for me to see. My buddy quickly points out my options..either hurry up and die or move your silly ass. What a motivator he was that day. For my ass continued to drag but in the direction of the summit.

By hour number seven and a half my water was dried up. Come to think of it not many had any liquid gold left. Even our reserve storage had been tapped dry. As if all my ailments were not enough I now began to hear things. I was hearing my First Sgt. yell that “the top is visible”. Only this was no dream, he was yelling from the front of our broken column. He could see what everyone was wanting to see. At the summit enormous golf balls awaited us. I wondered if these balls were purposely put up here to show one and all what it takes to make it up here. They were property of the University of Hawaii. I was still about thirty minutes from any golfing but his words did put a small flame under my ass. Left right left right I do not remember how this was possible. I felt like throwing up, my head hurt, my feet blistered, my shoulders stiff, my nose throbbing, my lungs burning, my every muscle twitching and my joints aching. But asides from that I felt like a million dollars.

I would soon be sitting on the highest point in the Pacific and the highest point in the world if measured from underneath the sea to the top. A Marine Recon squad had accomplished this same mission in under five hours. So there was no doubt that we were not Recon Marines. My eyes could see Marines resting and laying on a road while others reenacted Mt Suribachi. Marines are such weirdos. After nearly dieing we are now filled with energy and a party seems appropriate. Like the turtle in a race here I came. BOOM. I undo my harness and let it fall. I holler for water and it taste as good as a cold Budweiser on a hot summer day. MRE’s are issued and some decide to get an I.V.

The body is hungry and the MRE taste like chicken ala king. So now life is coming back. WOW this nightmare is over and I can not get up. My buddy helps me up and we pull out our sign that we had made back at base. It reads, ” 13,796 ft into the sky. Perez and Jones are in heaven on this day. Semper Fi 1/3 Comm. kicks ass!!” Pictures are priceless and so is a friendship. Semper Fi!