What the sign could also add is that it's 11 long miles to the end, with no potable water, with trailside greenery that disguises sheer drop-offs, exposed to turbulent onshore winds, and when it rains, which is often, if you can call some of these deluges simply "rain," the whole grand landscape turns into a snotty pudding and you will cling like a wretched beast to the nearest wisp of a bush and wonder if the whole island is going to turn before your eyes into a brown stain in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Sort of.
Still, even fittest of big-league hikers should not plan on making the 22-mile roundtrip to the trail's terminus at the Kalalau Valley. Each mile on the Kalalau walks like two. The good news is that you begin to pick up fab vistas after only a half-mile, so there's no need to turn this trail into an all-day escapade to do it justice.