The alarm clock on the bedside table woke up, issuing forth soft Hawaiian music, soothing at most hours but not at 1:00 a.m. Surprisingly, we’d chosen to have our tropical sleep interrupted at that early hour; the bus from Mountain Riders was due to arrive 45 minutes later to take us to their base camp and then up to the summit of Mt. Haleakala for an exciting 38-mile ride all the way down to the bottom of the 10,023-foot Maui volcano.
Of course, Dave and Ron, our veteran tour operators, didn’t mention that eleven people have died on the ride during the last two decades, that hundreds of concussions, lacerations, broken limbs have resulted in numerous harrowing ambulance rides, that the descent is listed in Guinness World Record books as the world’s steepest mountainous descent. They waited until we were comfortably seated in the van on the way back to base camp after we completed the ride to tell us that!
Photo © Richard D. LeCour
Our riding group of a dozen (consisting mainly of honeymooners, vacationers, and florists attending an international florist convention) arrived at the crater overlook at 4:30 a.m., the biting cold seeping its way through our four layers of clothing, even the thick, full-body, foul-weather wind suits provided by the well-prepared bike company. The thickly padded gloves they passed out I never used, thanks to my greater interest in holding and using my camera with numb fingers in order to preserve the moment for posterity.
Two hundred others, most dressed in the same bright-blue or bright-yellow hooded suits, the group resembling survivors of some minor nuclear disaster, huddled along the parking lot side of the iron railing at the west edge of the crater — and this was the best weather and conditions that the guides could collectively remember in years!
Photo © Richard D. LeCour
Patiently, we awaited the 6:20 sunrise, a long two hours to endure below- and/or near-freezing temperatures and the incessant yapping of a sarcastic class clown whose never-ending complaints and failed attempts at witticisms pierced the otherwise tranquil moon-lit surroundings.
By the time we, the 16th group to ride down, were ready to head out, bedecked in our issued limited-vision, full-face motorcycle helmets, it was 7:58 a.m. Five minutes separated each group, dictated and enforced by the on-site park ranger. He explained that the bike companies usually enforced the strict rules among themselves while he merely played cop and judge to what often seemed like a bunch of children. Seconds afterward, one of the other tour operators strode towards the ranger, exclaiming in an almost whining voice that another bike company had moved their van to the front of the parking lot ahead of schedule. As the park ranger left to sort out the situation, we shared a patronizing smile of irony.
Photo © Richard D. LeCour
By now it had warmed up enough for me to remove the windbreaker jacket, which I deposited in the van. I was the only one brave enough to do so, apart from our trip leader, thanks to the still chilly morning.
Our group lined up behind the leader and started out, the support van following behind to control traffic. We had to pull over occasionally to let traffic pass, and there were a few stops along the way to take pictures, rest, or strip off more layers of clothes.
We averaged most of the straightaways between the six major switchbacks and the hundred of curves at around 20 miles per hour, the curves at an easier 5 to 10 mph. Except for a few small stretches, no pedaling was required on the four-hour trip. Bicycles are geared very low and equipped with heavy-duty brakes, and after only the first few curves, you get the hang of leaning into the turns and can then relax and enjoy the scenery.
Photo © Richard D. LeCour
A little more than halfway down the mountain, we enjoyed a light breakfast at a small general store/cafe, the meal included in the price of the tour.
This is not the place to learn how to ride a bike. The tour guides provide safety instructions and keep an eye on all riders, both from the lead rider and the tailgate van driver positions, but there are no guardrails, no bicycle lanes, and lots of traffic, blind curves, and very often inclement weather conditions to contend with.
We had another group from our party do the bike ride just days after we did, and they had to suffer through heavy mist and torrential rains; they were miserable until they descended a few thousand feet. It even took me some adjusting to get used to not flailing about when stray bugs buzzed straight into my helmet through the open visor — not a bike ride that allows for any type of panic or distraction!
If you realize you can’t handle the ride until it’s too late to back out, the van is a welcome place for tired, cold, or nerve-wracked riders to ride downhill in warmth, comfort, and safety. I’m proud to say that my wife and I rode the whole way down!
Tours from several bike companies are available during your stay in Maui for between $115 and $150 per person, and if you agree to sit through a timeshare presentation, the fees can be as low as $65. We booked our tour from Mountain Riders online before arriving on the island and saved 15% for a total of $98 per rider.
We arrived back at our condo on the west side of the island, dropped off just after 1:30 p.m. from the same van we were picked up in, almost 12 hours after the journey began, surprisingly tired considering that we had expended almost no physical effort whatsoever. It is a wild and fun ride, one I would definitely do again — no matter what Mt. Haleakala and Mother Nature threw at me!
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