Our OWA group was backpacking on the Big Island of Hawaii along the Mulawai Trail. The first night out, we camped in Waipio Canyon. The next day, we headed toward Waimanu Canyon and stopped for the night on a rustic camping platform provided by the state Division of Forestry and Wildlife. The shelter was conveniently located on a mountaintop within a day’s walking distance of the trailhead and was a welcome sight after our long and hot climb through the jungle and up the Z Switchbacks. We reached the elevated platform in the middle of the afternoon, and since there was still plenty of daylight and because we were all physically drained, everyone picked a spot and stretched out on the shaded, relatively clean plywood for a quick nap before setting up camp for the night. As I dozed off, I thought contentedly of gentle breezes, juicy Lilikoi fruit, and thick clouds.
Our group was alone when we arrived and settled in for our naps. I was aware that group management was easier if there weren’t outside influences/people intermingling with our groups, so being by ourselves was a good thing.
About 30 minutes after entering REM sleep, I was awakened by the sound of voices coming our way from down the trail in the same direction that we’d just hiked. I stayed prone and just glanced around and noted that none of our group was stirring, and for the moment, the voices stayed out of sight. Oh well, so much for keeping to ourselves, I mused.
I figured it would likely get loud and bustling as more people showed up. I wondered how many of them there might be and whether there’d be room for everyone on the platform, assuming the other hikers/backpackers hoped to share the shelter with us for the night. Recognizing there would be plenty to deal with soon enough, I decided to let our guys keep sleeping for as long as they could.
And then, the people came around a corner, and some of my questions were answered. My first recognition was that there were only two of them, which meant that if they were indeed planning to share the shelter with us for the night, there would be plenty of room. But I was bewildered by another situation and knew it would be especially tricky to handle—namely, that neither the woman nor the man was wearing clothes. Yes, they were indeed buck-naked except for their hiking boots
I was increasingly flabbergasted by the events as I watched the nude backpackers continue to get closer. Naked backpackers are one thing, but naked strangers walking into our camp of male teenagers was a bit more complicated. I’d never run across this particular situation before and knew for a fact that we’d never discussed it in staff training. The first thing I did was close my eyes and see if the situation would just go away, like a bad dream, but it did not. I was careful not to stare as the hikers drew nearer, but, in addition to other things, I noticed that they were carrying well-organized backpacks and that their footwear was state-of-the-art. I also looked around at our team and noted that, thankfully, they were all still asleep. None even stirred as the two backpackers climbed the platform steps while talking between themselves about how many of us there were. And then, the nudists walked my way, once they noted my wide-open eyes. They had questions, or at least things to say, and immediately began directing their talk toward me.
I wasn’t at all sure about how the whole situation was going to unfold. At that moment, I was thankful that the teenagers were still sleeping through it all, and I didn’t want to wake them with a lot of talk. I held out hope that the couple was just passing through and would move on and be long gone before any of our guys woke up and realized we had new campmates who happened to be unclothed.
“Hot trail. You’re a big group. Where ya’ going? How many days are you all out for? Do you like those boots?” The naked man was full of questions.
I’d sat up when they arrived and tried to act normally while quietly and succinctly answering his questions, but couldn’t figure out where to look, with my mind wandering between his various queries and appendages. I kept glancing over at the group, noting that even with all the talking and commotion, after all that had transpired, there was still no movement.
“Three more minutes, just give me long enough to let this all pass,” I silently hoped.
Then, the man asked me about our stoves. Before I could even answer, he looked over at the woman and said, “I guess this’ll do. We can set up our stuff right over there. You don’t mind if we stay here for the night, do you?”
I was once again dumbfounded, but simply answered, “Sure, there’s plenty of room.”
My first thought was that the worst-case scenario was coming to fruition, but I soon came to grips with the fact that the camping together part was going to happen and would just be what it was. And so, with the man’s attention turned toward setting up camp and other normal backpacking things, I just sat back and watched the situation unfold. I decided that, at least, it would be entertaining to watch each of the young men awaken and see their reactions. I speculated that undoubtedly, some of them would think they were still asleep, and in the middle of some sort of dream.
For a short while, there was no stirring. But, within a few minutes, the teenagers began to regain consciousness and drift back into reality. As each came to, they initially kept their eyes closed. Likely hearing the talk and commotion and assuming it was just normal backpacking trip noise.
I knew that the moment of peace and quiet wouldn’t last for long, and as expected, it didn’t. The first young man in our group opened his eyes and immediately looked toward the couple. His glance lasted less than a second before he closed his eyes again, undoubtedly trying to figure out if he’d seen what he thought he saw. Then, his moment of stillness was abruptly broken by a strange sort of upper-body and head jerk that ended with his eyes appearing to open into a locked position. I could almost feel his brain spasming as he struggled with the facts. He sat up, looked at me square in the face, and kept his back to them. I could see his need for direction and feel his intent not to turn and face the facts. His eyes implored me for help, but I had nothing to offer, except for a “you’ll figure it out” sort of look. And so, he did what he needed to do and immersed himself full throttle into changing out his shoelaces.
Just then, another one of the teenagers began to roust, which was almost immediately followed by yet another. The two sat up simultaneously, did second takes at the sight of our camping mates, and then turned to each other and began a nonchalant discussion of Hawaiian ornithology.
Eventually, the rest of the group awakened. Each person watched to see what the others’ reactions would be. In the end, we were all curious about the right way to act, and everyone watched to see what the other group members did. I realized that, while it was an unusual situation, the answer regarding how to handle it was mostly the same as what we were going to do anyway. And so, we spent the rest of that day and evening getting our gear under control, cooking supper, visiting with our new friends, and arguing over who would clean the pots. Before going to sleep, we all organized our packs for the following day’s hike down to Waimanu, speculated about the beach, and ended the day counting our snacks.
Things were mostly normal by the next day, and I noted that our two campmates had little to worry about regarding clothing choices. Our group members had moved past the unexpectedness of the previous afternoon and evening and, as expected, were focused primarily on the five miles of trail that lay ahead.
