MAUNA KEA >> The nights are frigid for Hawaii — around 40 or 50 degrees. But warmth is plentiful in new friendships, hot coffee and gas heat lamps.

The sun and dry wind are blistering at about 6,000 feet above sea level. But the sharing of aloha is a soothing balm.

And sleeping arrangements — cars, truck beds, cots and tents — are uncomfortable. But there’s comfort in the purpose of being in this place.

For more than a week, this is what it’s been like living almost halfway up on a mostly barren shoulder of Hawaii’s tallest mountain.

Many of the staunchest opponents of the planned $1.4 billion Thirty Meter Telescope have been on guard here to physically block construction materials and equipment from being delivered up Mauna Kea Access Road to the summit.

The resistance work requires a substantial round-the-clock presence. So over the past two weeks, the number of “occupiers” living around the access road has swelled.

Jazzmin Cabanilla, a grant writer on Hawaii island, recalled that when she took up residence on the mountain nine days ago there were just 11 cars in a parking lot that has become the hub of sustenance at the puuhonua, or refuge, across from the access road and adjacent to Puu Huluhulu, a forested ancient cinder cone now topped by a giant Hawaiian flag hanging upside down to signal distress.

State officials estimated the daytime crowd Friday at around 1,200 people, though some demonstrators gave their own estimate of 2,000 to 3,000. At about 10 p.m. Friday, there were close to 600 vehicles parked along a half-mile stretch of Daniel K. Inouye Highway that bisects the access road and the puuhonua.

Mikey Glendon of Puna arrived July 14 with 10 family members including his parents, siblings, girlfriend and children.

“This whole thing is straight from our hearts,” he said Friday night in the 55-degree chill while sitting under a canopy in a picnic chair on the crushed- cinder roadside.

As Glendon prepared awa in a bowl, a nearby gas stove was heating a roughly 10-gallon pot of water. His group uses the hot water to fill a plastic cattle trough transported to their campsite for occasional relaxing soaks. He also rigged scaffolding over his truck to support a water bin with an attached spigot that functions as a shower.

Glendon said he has an open-ended plan for staying. “We go by the flow,” he said.

Kalehua Krug took vacation from his job on Oahu as a Hawaiian language immersion program administrator for the state Department of Education and arrived with his son at the puuhonua July 12 before the large community was established. Last week, Krug’s wife and two more children joined him.

“We came over here to make sure the community is heard,” Krug said.

To do that on Mauna Kea, Krug first slept in the driver’s seat of a borrowed Toyota Tacoma truck. Then, he switched to the front seat of a rented Chevy Tahoe SUV.

What has made the cramped quarters not seem so rough, Krug said, is the outpouring of contributions for the occupiers and new friendships.

“People taking care of us over here,” he said. “It is a warmth of family.”

Each morning at the puuhonua starts with Royal Order of Kamehameha members delivering a chant next to a longstanding lava rock altar to welcome the sun as it rises. On Saturday morning amid a mist, others nearby joined in.

Kini Burke, a Royal Order officer and retired state wildlife manager, said adding another telescope on the mountain where 13 now exist is too much for a place considered sacred by TMT opponents.

“Enough is enough,” he said. “Onipaa means we have to stand together as one.”

Burke, 77, said he felt a bit woozy from being on the mountain since July 14. “It takes a toll, but we’re here for the duration,” he said.

A bit after the ceremony, under two nearby 20-by-40-foot tarp tents, TMT opponents helped themselves to breakfast offerings. The line for hot coffee was about 50 deep.

Ryoko Osako, a third-generation Hilo resident, collected a mango and some rice cakes. She spent three days walking much of the way from Hilo Bay before accepting a ride and arriving eight days ago. Osako, a Hindu, spends nearly the whole of every day and night holding a “oneness space” at the altar in meditation for everybody.

Days get hot, so sunburned faces and cracked skin on noses and lips abound.

The hours pass with leaders holding strategy meetings, readying to hit the “front line” for peaceful resistance, talking story and even in leisure activities.

On a dry-erase board at a recently installed “new arrivals” information tent, an activities schedule offered a hula class and could soon include storytelling and crafts.

Also at the tent is a ridesharing list dubbed “Kanaka Uber” to help people who need rides to or from other parts of the island.

A medical tent staffed by licensed professionals, an area to stock and distribute provisions, and a bountiful buffet line with donated food also is at the hub.

“We try to malama (care for) our people because it’s a sacrifice to be out here,” said Cabanilla, the grant writer.

Dinner offerings on Friday included chicken-papaya soup, pork adobo, kalua pig, Portuguese bean soup, sweet potato, chick peas, Costco pizza, rotisserie chicken, chili and more.

Nicole Furtado, an Oahu resident on summer break from doctoral studies at the University of California at Riverside, was following the standoff on social media and decided to spend two nights at the encampment in her car.

“I felt compelled,” Furtado said as she ate a bowl of chicken katsu, orange chicken, breadfruit and vegetables Friday night. “It’s people coming together.”

Earlier on Friday, Gov. David Ige expressed concerns about an “unsafe situation” with the encampment, including pedestrian crossings on the highway, trash, inadequate toilet facilities and reports of drug and alcohol use.

Puuhonua organizers called Ige’s claims false propaganda to sway public opinion against the opponents.

Organizers said crossing guards are on duty 24 hours a day, all trash is hauled out and that the number of portable toilets has increased with the population. On Friday, about 12 toilets arrived to roughly double the number there, and organizers said they are serviced twice a day.

Under the supply tents, which are warmed on really cold nights by five tall heating lamps, there are even recycling bins for cardboard, food waste, beverage containers and paper plates with food residue.

TMT opponents also said they have been enforcing rules that include no alcohol, drugs or smoking and no swearing in the puuhonua, and that there has been no loss of order.

“This is a puuhonua, so you have to malama — take care of — the people,” Cabanilla said. “Aloha lives in this place.”