Life up here is found nowhere else. The silversword — ʻāhinahina — grows only on Haleakalā’s high slopes, waits as long as half a century to bloom once, and then dies; the nēnē, Hawaiʻi’s native goose, walks the cinder like it owns the place; and down at Hosmer Grove the native honeycreepers still flash through the trees. The park protects more endangered species than almost any other in the national park system.
The measures of the place are hard to believe. The road climbs from sea level to the 10,023-foot summit at Puʻu ʻUlaʻula in just 38 miles — one of the steepest such ascents on Earth. At the top, the famous “crater” opens seven miles long, two miles wide, and some 2,600 feet deep — honestly speaking not a volcanic crater at all, but a vast erosional valley where two great watersheds wore through and met. It is cold up there; now and then, it even snows in Hawaiʻi. The first recorded non-Hawaiian ascent came in 1828, and travelers have been making the climb ever since.
Why People Visit Haleakalā
Haleakalā offers a different Hawaiʻi — above the clouds, where the air is thin, the silence carries, and the sun rises over an ocean of mist at six in the morning. Travelers come for the sunrise at Puʻu ʻUlaʻula, the silversword on the upper slopes, the long hike down into the crater on Sliding Sands, the bamboo-forest walk to Waimoku Falls at Kīpahulu, the Pools of ʻOheʻo cascading down to the sea, and the dark-sky stargazing from the summit at night. It is contemplative, otherworldly, and unforgettable — a sacred mountain that has been holding sky over east Hawaiʻi for as long as anyone has counted.
