Escapes: Running the road to Jaws on Maui
Face to Face with JAWS
More than epic surfing in Pe‘ahi, Maui!
By Melissa Valenzuela
Photo at right: An approaching storm brings large waves into the shore at Pe‘ahi, Maui. Photo by Melissa Valenzuela
The great thing about being a runner is that I get to explore paths that are not part of my routine. At the same time, as a serious runner, I often have to plan ahead, especially on vacation.
Before my recent trip to Maui, Hawaii, I researched running routes and made plans for the week. I felt confident and prepared. I was even excited that some of the routes were part of the 43-year-old Maui Marathon.
But, the regret of a Maui local working in my hotel inspired me to abandon my plans. He wasn’t a runner. He was a surfer. And he was kicking himself for missing some massive waves at the Jaws surf break in northern Maui brought in by a nearing storm. He swooned that I should visit this beach, which boasts the biggest waves in the world each year, because the swells were reaching 30 – 40 feet — a rare occurrence for this area.
Could I run there? He hadn’t seen anyone run the road to Jaws before but did not discourage it, so I followed his suggestion.
As a runner, I’m also equipped to “see” routes, to map and create them in my head, whether it is amidst bundles of hotels, through foreign neighborhoods or in natural settings. I spy a soft terrain narrowing off into trees, and I wonder where it could lead me.
Off the Hana Highway
Jaws is on a remote portion of the island where only experts are allowed to surf. To get to there, surfers meet off the infamous Hana Highway near a blip of a town called Pe’ahi. They pile into a truck or SUV and travel for nearly two miles down a one-lane red dirt road that is tucked behind a wall of trees.
You wouldn’t know this road existed unless someone told you about it. Locals warn that rental cars with low clearance usually get stuck along the road with its large dips and gaping potholes.
Since I was on foot, I didn’t have to worry about getting a car stuck, and the trek was easy in the beginning. Old, un-harvested sugarcane trees dotted one side of the path, and a plush valley of rainforest trees lined the other.
About a half-mile in, though, I encountered the aforementioned potholes and dips. The terrain was rough and rocky, and with each step, the red, soft dirt began to pack on the bottom of my running shoes. The declines were rapid, and I was not in the right shoes to keep momentum with the unleveled terrain. Serious runners also know when to stop. So, I turned my run into a hike.
Broken surfboards serve as a reminder of the power of “Jaws.” Photo by Melissa Valenzuela
The breaks grew louder, urging me on
Broken surfboards serve as a reminder of the power of “Jaws.” Photo by Melissa Valenzuela
I could hear the swells in the distance and the continuous crashing of each wave coming in, the intensity representing size and strength. After two miles, I reached the unloading point where surfers park their cars and hike down a steep quarter-mile trail to Jaws. It was only wide enough for single-file navigation and I followed surfers down the path. Most had mastered walking in measly flip-flops or barefoot, easily keeping connected to the ground.
I could see the ocean through the trees as I made my way down the trail. The waves raced to the rocks, turning over and over, merging into the waves that had crashed before them. The sound of the breaks grew louder, urging me on.
Surfers disappeared from the path, making their way to a nearby boulder. At Jaws, surfers do not wade in. At Jaws, surfers launch into the ocean.
A collection of broken surf boards with the word “Jaws” inscribed on one reminded me that good things still come from broken pieces, and I took my place among a group of spectators. I noticed a calm quiet among the community of surfers, who paid no attention to our group of observers. Some surfers stood tall; others were devoured by the waves and spit back out.
They forced their heads back up, letting everyone know they were alright. I watched this flow for an hour before I retraced my steps back to the main road.
As I navigated the rough patches and potholes, I thought of how disappointing it was not to complete my run, how trail shoes would have been better, how I still had an amazing hike, how Jaws was sacred, and how local runners were missing out on this great path.
I thought empathetically of the hotel employee who was stuck at work while others were surfing Jaws. I felt lucky that my course changed, and that with a little direction, I discovered something new.
If You Go
Jaws Surf Break: www.mauiguidebook.com/adventures/jaws
Paui, Maui: www.paiamaui.com
Aston Hotels and Resorts: www.astonhotels.com
Kaanapali Beach Hotel: www.kbhmaui.com
Discount Hawaii Car Rental: www.discounthawaiicarrental.com
Melissa Valenzuela lives in the Seattle area and continues to log miles. She supervises a recreation community center and volunteers with Girls on the Run and Camp Erin.
