Mike sent this ride report out to friends, so I figured instead of writing my own here, I'd just let you read his:
Well, yesterday was the day to take the plunge so to speak, or perhaps the opposite, to climb Haleakala on road bikes. It was our one ambitious goal for this otherwise placid vacation on Maui. I should have sensed what kind of day it would be when Julie and I left the condo, forgetting our bars, our pre-ride hydration water, sandwiches, etc...two vacationers in vacation mode, having done nothing for a week, attempting the assault of a 10,023 foot peak!
We arrived at the bike shop (http://www.gocyclingmaui.com/) in Haiku, on the Eastern slopes of the base of Haleakala, at about 400 ft above sea level, were outfitted with some great Litespeed bikes (I want one now) with our own pedals, and were ready to get on our way. Tim, our guide and host, (supported by a sag wagon that would leapfrog us for water stops) would ride with us up to the park entrance at 6,700 ft, but could not enter the national park, because the shop did not have a permit to operate within the park. At one trip per week with only a few riders willing to make the ascent, I gather it just did not make economic sense for them to get one. About 45 seconds into the ride, we started to climb-nothing like a good warmup! Off we went, through the small towns into the "highlands" (between 1,000 and 4,000 feet). Unlike most mountain ascents, there are very few places to rest or coast on Haleakala. I counted three downhill sections from the bike shop to 6,000 feet that were each about 15 seconds long.
The rest of the ride was a steady climb uphill, at albeit gradual grades between 5% and 8%. I have to say that the roads inside the park were some of the best that I have ever had the pleasure of riding. Good wide shoulders, smooth pavement, and plenty of signs warning motorists about bicycles (though I think the intention is to warn about downhill cyclists, of which there are many).
Anyway, back to my hyperbole: To our delight, the air temperature started to cool, from 86 at the shop to the high 70's as we climbed through the highlands. At 4,500 feet we entered some mist, that gradually turned to a drizzle the further we climbed. At 6,000 feet, our sag wagon provided us with leg warmers, arm warmers, a vest and a jacket (until this point, Julie and I were wearing only shorts and regular jerseys). At the time we thought, well, ok, It's drizzling now, but not cold enough to warrant wearing any of this stuff. If we need them on the descent, we will carry them. We rode on. We left the Shop at about 8:45 am. By the time we arrived at the park entrance at 6,700 feet, it was just before 1:00 pm. We were on schedule, with our legs feeling pretty good.
Tim left us at the park entrance, in a light drizzle, which almost immediately turned to a monsoon-a heavy tropical rain. Not a warm tropical rain though. No, at 7,000 feet, it was as cold as any bay area winter rainstorm. We trudged forward to the first park visitors center, completely soaked, wearing again, only our jerseys and shorts. Determined to carry on, We stayed indoors at the visitors center for a half hour to thaw out and regroup, spending 10 minutes of that time under the hand dryers in the restrooms trying to warm our cores and dry off (somewhat) before layering on the additional clothing. Donned with armwarmers, leg warmers, a light vest and a light jacket (none of which, perhaps obviously, was rainproof) we left the vistors center at 7,000 feet and climbed to 7,500 feet.
The rain did not let up, and if anything only persisted at getting heavier. Soaked to the bone again (read: next time carry some goretex!), we made the decision to turn around, thinking both of hypothermia (yes, by this time the temperature was in the high 50's, we were soaked, and still had 7,000 feet to descend with nary a pedal stroke!) and time, as it was by this time, heading towards 2:30 and we had 2,500 feet to go to the summit. The descent was a little harrowing, as we had to clench our brakes as hard as we could just to slow down. Needless to say, brakes don't work well when your tires (front wheel and back) are spitting a rooster tail out about 6' and water is sheathing across the road. My front tire was wobbling both from the heavy application of the brakes, and from my shivering arms. I had a steady drip of water coming off the front of my helmet, splashing into my eyes to aid my vision, which was nice. It was the kind of soaking that, when you flexed your foot, water would squish out of the tops of your shoes; when you sat down on the seat after lifting off for a moment, you could feel the squish of water releasing from your butt pad.
It rained solidly back down to about 3,500 feet. When we got back to the bike shop, by this time somewhat warmed by gradually warming rains, the now sunny weather, and 86 degree temperatures, we looked a little out of place with our bundles of clothes on. We rung out our clothes, laughed and told stories of our adventure, and were soon on our way. Tim confirmed that this was the wettest he had ever been on a bike ride since living in Maui (remember, he rode up with us, and had to descend through most of the rains as well).
To top it all off, before arriving in Maui, Julie had bought tickets to a benefit for the Lahaina community center: an outdoor evening event of approximately 500 people, a live band, open bar, and samplings from the best chefs/restaurants of Maui. Not thinking this through completely, we scheduled the climb to Haleakala on the same day. Hmm let's think about this: sit on the beach, read, snorkel for a week and then attempt to climb 10,00 feet and attend a benefit on the same day. How typical, or perhaps endemic of the us.
Needless to say, we ate and danced-yes danced, until we had nothing left. Just another day on Maui. All things considered, our legs feel pretty good today.
