Day 42: Aloha Hawai'i (Departure Day)

Morning of my departure. Flight just before dinnertime. Janine goes to work and, despite the rain, I go to the beach. I hadn't been in the water while it was raining before. As I arrived the SUPers and kite surfers retreated to their cars while I abandoned mine, stashed my keys in a tree hollow, and walked toward the water. The beach was deserted but for me and my many tumultuous thoughts. The rain added an element of chaos to the experience, confounding the senses. Eventually it became a soothing cascade which gently kissed the parts of my body that weren't immersed in the ocean. I bobbed as I had for the past six weeks, letting my body flow with the current and the swell of each wave, until the drops lessened, willing the physical experience to transfer to my mental state.

Leaving was difficult. What was I going home to? Would I ever feel this way again? Traveling in this way had healed me before, helped me learn more about who I was and where I wanted to go in life. Saying goodbye to my friend was hardest, knowing she was facing life's challenges alone for a time after we had shared so much together. Who will we be when we next see one another?

Aloha.

Day 41: Waimea Valley

In my last few days I decided I wanted to revisit the North Shore to check a few more things off my Hawaii wish list. I finally got a picture of the other side of the North Shore sign and visited Waimea Valley, a botanical valley and historical site whose name means "Valley of the Priests".

Waimea Valley is one of the last partially intact ahupuaa on O'ahu, 1875 acres of sacred land that has been part of Native Hawaiian history for more than 700 years. The section that I visited is part cultural center and part botanical gardens. I took a self-guided stroll through the lush vegetation for a few hours, ending with a quick dip in a swimming hole/waterfall area.

Sweet crepes at No Ka 'Oi with Janine

I stopped for lunch at my favorite place on the North Shore, the Beet Box Cafe, and after for a scoop of ice cream at Scoop of Paradise. I am feeling comfortable with traveling on my own and learning to appreciate the freedom and peace in my solo adventures. Headed back to Kaneohe shortly after lunch to spend time with Janine, as I am leaving soon. She took me into Kailua for crepes at a local place. We had a lovely dinner together, experimenting with savory and sweet, buckwheat and regular!

Day 40: Diamond Head Summit Trail

In my last few days I have been especially enjoying my time hiking alone. There's something about the beauty of hiking here, especially in new places. I feel connected to the land and overwhelmed with the beauty of it all at the most unexpected moments.

I nervously made my way to Diamond Head Summit Trail in Janine's car (still not feeling confident in my driving abilities on a standard), parked, and followed others to the trail. This one was a little more populated than other hikes I've done, but still worth the view at the top.

Days 36, 37, & 38

Alicia left this week. Her visiting was wonderful for me as I got to reconnect and form a new friendship with my best friend's twin. Her departure reminded me that my own would soon follow. I do not want to leave this beautiful place - with it's breathtaking views, agreeable climate, culture, food, and of course, Janine!

I spend most of Friday running errands with Janine and catching up, talking about her life post D-Day and what our futures hold in store. Alicia is engaged and soon to be married, so we talk about that and dolphins, relationships, my mother's illness. I wish I had more time here, and yet I know it is time for me to get back to my own life.

Saturday I finally hit my goal of running for the entire length of a 5K. Janine and I take our snorkeling gear to Shark's Cove despite the clouds and threatening drizzle, and see the most amazing tropical fish and coral, alive and thriving. So many kinds! I will have to remember to bring an underwater camera when I come back to visit again. After snorkeling we carefully picked our way around the jagged edges of the cove, named Shark Cove for it's fin-like protrusions, and look in shallows for interesting marine life.

We grab dinner at Whole Foods on the way back and heat to Kailua Beach to watch the sun set.

Day 35: Polynesian Cultural Center

Samoan actor climbing a palm tree

On Wednesday Alicia and I hit the beach early in hopes of meeting up with someone who had offered us a kiteboarding lesson. Unfortunately the wind did not cooperate so we spent the wee hours of the morning in the sun and sand with people walking their dogs on the shore. On our way home we grabbed one last acai bowl for Alicia, then headed out to the Polynesian Cultural Center where we would spent the next 10 hours.

I'd seen buses all around the island with the Polynesian Cultural Center's logo stamped on it but didn't really understand what was in store for us until we were in front of a large "amusement-park-like" complex.  I would equate my experience with a culturally-themed educational Disney World. The center is divided into six Pacific cultures, each sporting a village and people representative of an authentic island village. The "natives" in each village wore culturally-authentic garb, spoke with the accents of their respective cultures, and demonstrated arts specific to each culture.

One of six displays at the Canoe Pageant

In addition to an interactive movie theater inside a fake volcano and a sprawling river with canoe rides, little Samoan, Aotearoan Fiji, Hawaiian, Tonga, and Tahitian villages were set up at along the perimeter of the park. Throughout the afternoon we saw actors climb 40-foot coconut trees in bare feet, tattooed warriors perform war dances, tribesmen perform on a log drum (lali),  learned basic hula movements, threw spears (unsuccessfully), twirled poi balls, played tititorea (a Maori stick game designed to develop hand-eye coordination), watched the Tahitians' famous hip shaking dances, and listened to Tongan ta nada (drumming) on oversized drums. Later that evening Janine joined us at the center for dinner and a show, themed "Hā" (breath of life). A story of a family told through Polynesian dance, music, and fire knives.

The basket in the forefront holds poi

At one of the many booths set up at the P.C.C. I was able to cross an experience off my Hawai'i list: taste poi. Poi is a refined paste-like powder made from the mashed up root of the taro plant. The Hawaiian people believed the taro plant was the original ancestor of the Hawaiian people and, as such, taro was a staple in Polynesian food. To make poi the roots of a taro plant are boiled and mashed into a powder, which is mixed with water and mashed again. The finished product is a purple paste that is traditionally eaten with the fingers. At the P.C.C. a volunteer showed us taro in the many stages of becoming poi and encouraged us to try the goop with toothpicks. It was surprisingly sweet - reminiscent of sweet potatoes - and sticky in texture. Despite Janine's gentle teasing throughout my trip about not liking poi, I didn't mind the taste and would have tried more, had I been given the chance.

Alicia, Janine, and me (+ creepy man in background) at the Hā show

Day 34: Lanikai Pillboxes

View from the first bluff at 5am

While grabbing a bite post-surfing lesson last week our guides had recommended a few hiking trails, one of which was very close by and known for its spectacular views of the windward side of the island. After doing a little research Alicia and I decided to get up at 4am and hike the Lanikai Pillboxes Trail (Ka’iwa Ridge Trail) at dawn so that we could watch the sun rise.

We stumbled out of bed in various states of alertness, fumbled around for a flashlight, and drove to a nearby golf course, where we parked the car. The sun was set to rise at 5:18am that morning and when we arrived at the entrance to the trail - which was not clearly marked - the sky was just beginning to brighten, although not enough that visibility improved much. Thus we began our upward trek in the dark and were soon pelted with fat raindrops, which made the trail slippery and our ascent slightly more dangerous.

Consistent with Island weather, the rain did not last long and when it receded we were left damp and fumbling up dirt trails in the faint glow of the rising sun. We stopped at the top of the first bluff to admire the hazy view and get our bearings before Alicia charged on to the first bunker, leaving me scrambling after her.

As we rose we began to make out the silhouettes of other hikers on the ridge, mostly native Hawaiian teens likely ending their nights together with a sunrise on the bunkers. The first WWII bunker was largely occupied by a handful of onlookers waiting for the sun to break over the horizon, so Alicia and I moved on to the second bunker, where we took a seat and waited, eyes focused on the horizon, until our view started to look more like this:

As it grew lighter the sun crept slowly over the horizon behind the clouds, tinging the scene with a soft warm glow and scattering colors on the clouds.

The rising light afforded us sweeping views of the Lanikai and Kailua neighborhoods, and of the Mokulua Islands (see above: Moku Nui on the left and Moku Iki on the right).

(See picture below) We could see down the side of the island and pick out the faint glow of Makapu'u Lighthouse, where we'd hiked earlier in the week (furthest tip in the background of the picture), and Sea Life Park, where Janine was headed to for work in the coming hours. The trail that we continued to follow after the second bunker winds off to the right of the picture below in a semi-circle. We made our slow, steep descent at the mountain in the center (foreground) of the picture below.

Few hikers chose to continue on past the second bunker once the sun was up - most turned around and went back to the golf course. Alicia and I decided to hike the entire ridge trail, at times fumbling through tall grasses along barely visible trails scattered with rocks that made it challenging to find footing. We saw one other hiker in the hour + that it took us to complete the ridge trail.

Our descent was a sharp decline with little purchase for our feet. We spaced out a good distance and basically slid, a few feet at a time, down the slope of the mountain, grabbing roots where we could until they turned into cacti, then crab walking and testing out places to plant our feet. When we got to the bottom, very dirty but happy, we ambled along the highway through Lanikai back toward our car and on to breakfast.

Days 32 & 33: Sea Life Park, Makapu'u Point Lighthouse Trail, & Koko Head

Alicia's double dorsal fin ride

Sunday was Alicia's turn to swim with the dolphins at Sea Life Park and my turn to be the photographer, as Derrick had done for me. It was really fun to watch Alicia in the water, I don't know that I've ever seen her happier. Janine managed to get in on her sister's program and was the one sending and receiving dolphins from the opposite side of the Cove to the dolphin trainer and Alicia's group, which is unusual for an intern. Later on in the week we celebrated Janine being hired on as a full-time dolphin trainer with drinks and an ice cream cake that Derrick had sent to her while on deployment! We were able to eat lunch with Janine on her break, then watch a few sights that I had not seen at Sea Life Park on my first visit, including the sea lion show. Most notably for me we got to touch a 1 year old baby turtle whose shell was labeled "Y", affectionately nicknamed Yolo by the employee who let us touch him/her.

Makapu'u Lighthouse

When Janine got out of work the three of us drove over to a nearby trail for a quick end-of-the-day hike. Makapu'u Point Lighthouse Trail, one of the easternmost points on O'ahu, is known for its outstanding views of O'ahu's southern coastline, including Koko Head (which we would hike the following day). The 2 mile trail, although paved, was entirely uphill (~500 feet in elevation) and we were soon sweating and puffing in the heat, digging deep to propel ourselves upward to the scenic overlook. Makapu'u Point Lighthouse Trail gets its name from the historic red-roofed lighthouse (built in 1909) that is visible at the top.

The summit of the trail was especially windy and I was glad for the gates surrounding the outlook area. The view from the top was breath-taking: a stunning backdrop of blues and greens as far as the eye could see. In the distance I could make out the outline of Moloka‘i and many other islets off the shore. There were a few locks attached to the gates at the top, whisking me back to Cinque Terre in Italy, where locks on gates were so numerous that new locks were added on top of existing ones to symbolize love and eternity.

Step 300/1048 looking up the trail

The next day Alicia and I donned workout gear and drove back to Waimanalo, this time to hike Koko Head, a crater (elevation 1,208 feet compared to yesterday's 500 foot drive) whose trail consists of 1,048 "steps" straight up the remnants of an old rail track. The tracks were originally built over 60 years ago to transport supplies to the military bunkers at the top. This was more of a workout than a hike, but I'd do it any day over a Stairmaster in a sweaty gym.

As we approached the bottom of the trail from the parking lot, I saw a group of sweaty tired hikers who had recently descended next to a few optimistic-looking climbers who were queing up to start the ascent. I stared up the wooden tracks, my eyes searching for the top of the trail and failing. Next came a deep breath, a high-five from Alicia, and our first few steps. At this point we were smiling. At about 300 stairs up (see picture on left) we gave up keeping a conversation going and scaled back to only essential communication (i.e. telling each other where loose rails were or agreeing on a stair to take a break on). 

Open air tracks

A particularly scary moment was when the track spanned a section of open air and the once solidly grounded planks of wood changed to open air. I am not ashamed to admit that I crawled up this section of the trail, in fear of what would happen should my clumsy self trip or catch a toe on an unsuspecting nail. The planks were just far enough apart in places where it was necessary to take two steps before moving on to the next one. In other places cinder blocks had been placed to compensate for depressions in the earth between steps. There were no guard rails, no nets, and no professional maintenance done to make the trail safe. On the way up it was all I could really do to convince my burning legs to keep going. Sweat was abundant.

At several points in this hike I stopped to ask myself, "Why am I doing this?". My answer was in the 360 degree view that awaited us at the top of the crater, a view that had to be earned. There have been several moments during my trip where I have been forced to admit that no amount of fiddling with my camera would produce a photograph that would do justice to what I was seeing. This was most definitely one of those moments. Below us lay Hawaii Kai framed by the Pacific Ocean, crashing waves, and remnants of other craters. Beneath our feet Koko Head Crater dropped off suddenly, leaving no room for missteps.

The descent, although less strenuous, was no less scary. The steep decline and lack of handrails left me with visions of tripping and rolling ... all the way down (many broken bones/death to ensue). To distract myself from this I counted steps as I descended in a slow, meticulous manner. I must have missed a few steps, because I only counted 1,020, nonetheless, we reached the bottom safe and sound with only quivering legs and tired smiles to show for our efforts.

Day 31: Aulani & Electric Beach

Stiff and bruised, Janine, Alicia, and I rose early Saturday morning and drove over to base for a yoga class, thinking that a little stretching and meditated breathing would go a long way toward reversing the damage done on the water the day before. Excepting some general groaning and bruise comparison, we emerged refreshed and (more) limber by the end of the class. Our many rumbling stomachs reminded us of our brunch reservation at Aulani Resort, where Derrick, Janine, and I had gone for dinner a few nights before his deployment.

This particular Aulani brunch was a Character Brunch, meaning that our meal was supplemented by the company of such fine characters as Minnie, Goofy, and the great mouse himself. Much like dinner, the brunch buffet offered a fine selection of both traditional and Hawaiian fare including my first helping of loco moco, a dish that I equate to to the Rochester garbage plate - hamburger patties, rice, and a fried egg topped off with gravy. Given my dietary restrictions, I had expected the majority of the breakfast selections to be closed to me, but upon hearing of my body's unfortunate hatred of gluten, the chef himself came out to talk me through the menu, even offering to make special GF portions of my favorite dishes (love this place)!

Janine, Mickey, Me, and Alicia at Aulani Character Breakfast

As we stuffed ourselves full of mouse-shaped Belgian waffles and papaya, characters bopped around our table with a trail of youngsters in tow. I felt a little bit like a child myself, flashing back to the first time my mom and dad took my little sister and I to Disney in FL. We had both had autograph books and had been eager to collect the signatures of the costumed Disney Characters in the park. Full of fine food and childhood memories, we drifted down to the resort's seaside lagoon to lounge and find some space to breathe.

Earlier that day my mom had been admitted to the hospital back in Buffalo to begin the process of her planned stem cell transplant. As happy as I was to be in such a beautiful place with two of my best friends, I found that my heart and head tended to drift across the ocean to where I knew my mom was lying in a hospital bed receiving chemo in preparation for the transplant. I thank the family and friends who have been there for my mother the past few months and am especially grateful for my understanding friends in HI and at home, who have helped to ease my mind and reach out a helping hand. I will work hard to divide my remaining time between the people that I love, despite the many miles that separate us.

View of the power plant next to Electric Beach

A little after lunchtime we packed up our things and headed up the coast a few miles to Kahe Point Beach Park, nicknamed Electric Beach for the electric plant that is situated nearby. The waters around the beach are known for their clear blue open water, high fish population, and variety of marine life inhabitants. I had seen the beach for the first time from our helicopter tour, where I'd learned that the electric plant provides an outflow of clean warm water through two giant offshore cooling pipes which causes the water in these areas to be several degrees warmer than the surrounding ocean, thus attracting an abundance of marine life. Unlike Hanauma Bay, where I'd gone snorkeling closer to the beginning of my trip, the coral in this area was healthy, colorful, and alive! I saw dozens of species of fish, including the Hawaiian state fish Humuhumunukunukuapuaa (no typo, I promise), sea anemone, sea urchins, and even an eel! The water was much deeper than at Hanauma Bay and the visibility better. We also had plenty of room to ourselves and were hardly never in danger of scraping our body parts on the reef.

Janine & Alicia post-snorkeling

The twins and I drifted along in a line around the bay, making underwater exclamations when we saw something interesting and surfacing when Janine saw fit to alert us to potentially dangerous conditions (there were no life guards). We saw a few scuba divers down on the sea floor, moving slowly and scattering air bubbles with their movements. After a little more than an hour of snorkeling we headed back into shore for a break and a brief warm-up in the sun, then headed back out for a second round. I love having the opportunity to spend time with both Janina and Alicia; it feels a little bit like being back at Geneseo. Although it was a little hard at first to share Janine after having her to myself for so long, Alicia makes for an excellent adventuring companion and a great friend! I will be sad to see her go next week and can hardly believe that my own departure will be soon afterward! I cannot imagine daily life without Janine in it and am uneasy about the transition back to life in NY, with such a challenging year ahead of me. More and more each day I grow to appreciate the gift that has been the time I have spent here. I am loathe to give it up and wonder what effects my adventuring will have on my life at large when I return home.

Day 30: Surfing

Friday morning the twins and I rolled out of bed, threw on some of Janine's rash guards, and met two young men down at Kailua Beach for a surfing lesson.Originally I had written "watch surfers" on my Hawai'i to-do list, mostly because past experiences have taught me that I'm not really a water-person. I have a(n assumedly natural) respect for and fear of the ocean that largely stems from a lack of strong swimming skills and an utter hatred of having water up my nose and in my eyes.

I have come to really appreciate spending time in the water, close to shore where the waves diminish as they progress. To me, surfing seemed like an uncomfortable, difficult, dangerous activity that would likely disturb the calm relaxed vibe I'd been striving for all trip. However, in the spirit of trying new things, I decided to go out of my comfort zone and give surfing a try. I arrived at our lesson heavily sunscreened with a positive outlook.

Believe it or not, this is our after shot.

Our guides assigned us surfboards and got us in the water within minutes of arriving at the beach. After showing us how to hug the board and roll when waves got too big, Koa and Michael instructed our group to paddle out into the ocean where the waves were bigger and the rocks less numerous. I knew immediately that I was in trouble when I couldn't keep up with the twins and our guides, who were steadily free-styling out to sea on their boards. By contrast I had a hard time staying on my board and my strokes took my half the distance that each one of Janine's or Alicia's did. I kept at it, though, slowly and steadily, often losing any ground I had gained as the waves grew larger and larger, driving me back toward shore. Eventually one of our guides took pity on me and towed me out to the twins on his lead.

Arms aching and rib cages bruised, we practiced turning, sitting, and kneeling on our boards in the growing waves. Janine and Alicia picked this up pretty quickly and were both able to get up to a standing position on their surfboards with a little practice. I, on the other hand, could not maintain my balance for long enough to get from a kneeling to a standing position on my bucking board. Our guides swapped my surfboard for theirs a few times, hoping that a larger board would help me stay afloat, but in the course of changing boards a wave took me under and spit me back up several dozen yards from the group.

After getting back on my third board, a giant wave unseated me and whipped me around, causing me to lose both of my contacts. Nose dripping and eyes burning, I forced a smile on my face and began the painful (and blurry) paddle back toward our guides, fighting waves as I attempted forward motion. My third wipeout was the closest to actual surfing that I got all day - I accidentally caught a wave that swept me along for a full 20 seconds or so laying flat on my board. When I tried to stand up, however, my board and I both got sucked into a wave. My sixth wipeout scared me so badly that I wanted to beg someone to send a helicopter down to airlift me back to the shore, which we could just barely see from how far out we were. It forcefully separated me from my board, which whipped me under the water for what seemed like ages and made me so disoriented that I couldn't tell up from down. While sucked into the current my surfboard smacked me in the head. When I finally surfaced, choking and unable to see, I was more than halfway back to shore and my head throbbed.

Having tired of being subjected to the mercy of the ocean, and feeling that I was nearing the end of my physical limits, I chose to call it quits and headed back toward shore, stroking pitifully at the water in my exhausted attempt to get solid ground under my feet. On my feeble trek back (it took me about 20 minutes to swim back in on my board, even with the current) I was knocked off my board several more times. I tried not to feel too defeated and instead reminded myself that I'd gone out of my comfort zone to do something I wouldn't normally have done. Determinedly I carried the giant board, a few feet at a time, up the shore and back to the truck, then collapsed on the beach, where I waited another hour for Janine and Alicia to paddle back. We grabbed lunch and a six-pack at a nearby food place with our guides, then headed home and crashed for 3-5 hour naps, followed by more nourishment. When I went to sleep later that night the rocking sensation that I'd taken home with me from being tossed about in the ocean persisted, giving me nightmares of drowning. Lesson learned: Surfing is much harder than it appears.

Note to self: begin lifting weights. Upper body strength is lacking.

Update: We are covered in an assortment of bruises, largely on our hips and ribs, from clinging to and paddling on our boards. I have some serious respect for surfers that I did not have before!

Days 28 & 29: Dole Plantation & A Visiting Twin

Lava demonstration at Bishop Museum

On Wednesday Janine tasked me with picking Alicia (her twin) up from the airport, which meant driving into Honolulu on my own for the first time.

I decided to make a day of it by visiting the acclaimed Bishop Museum and by getting lunch somewhere special on my own before venturing over to the airport. The Bishop museum is dedicated to sharing the history, arts, and culture of the Hawaiian people. As it was a weekday morning, I found myself alongside families and groups of summer camp youth examining cultural artifacts, trying my hand at basket weaving, and learning about the different types of sand on the islands. The highlight of my visit was probably the 30-minute educational lava demonstration, in which a museum employee passed around samples of different types of cooled lava then melted rock down in an extremely hot furnace to produce molten lava.

Living Lasagna

After picking up a lei for Alicia at a nearby shop I went in search of a raw/vegan restaurant that I had read about while on the plane back from the Big Island with Janine the previous weekend. I found Greens & Vines nestled on the corner of Kapiolani and Ward in downtown Honolulu and requested an order of their "living lasagna" - layers of seasoned zucchini instead of pasta, basil pesto, sun-dried tomato marinara, macadamia nut ricotta, spinach, and sliced tomatoes.The combination of macadamia nut ricotta and sun-dried tomato marinara was unexpectedly delicious, especially when paired with thinly sliced zucchini and spinach (Kate, Zac, are you thinking what I'm thinking?). The raw food movement is pretty popular here in O'ahu and less inconvenient to prepare than I'd originally anticipated ... something to thin about for my return home, perhaps.

(My) twins!

After a brief crisis trying to get out of the parking garage I cruised over to the airport to collect Alicia, who greeted me with a big smile. She showed me her new engagement ring and talked me through her fiance's proposal while excitedly trying to take a picture of the double rainbow that greeted her on our drive out of the airport lot. Alicia's first evening with Janine and me consisted of a poke dinner followed by acai bowls on the beach at sunset and an impromptu dip in the ocean. It was really special to be able to share someone's first night with them when it seems like my own happened not too long ago. Has it really been a month already?! I am looking forward to having a traveling companion for daytime adventures this week and to sharing my driving responsibilities with an experienced standard car driver.

Dole Whip

The next day I woke up early to make french toast using homemade (GF) Hawaiian sweet bread for the twins, then Janine went off to work and Alicia and I headed up to the North Shore for her first full day. Unfortunately, the weather chose not to cooperate with us, sending regular rain showers and occasional chilly winds our way all day, but we soldiered on and spent the better part of the morning and afternoon at the Dole Plantation. Here we took on the challenge of the World's Largest Outdoor Maze (Guinness Book of World Records 2008) over three acres and 2 1/2 miles of paths crafted from Hawaiian plants. Our objective was to seek out eight hidden stations within the maze and trace a stencil at each station onto our stamped time cards.

We began with a bang, making excellent time until we rerouted to avoid a large group of kids and became lost and disoriented searching for the two northernmost stations in the large leafy head of the giant pineapple. We got back on track toward the end and finished the maze in a respectable 45 minutes, for which we rewarded ourselves with a sampling of the plantations famous pineapple soft serve ice cream, Dole Whips, and a stroll around the plantation grounds.

Alicia's first pearl

On our way out Alicia and I were drawn into a stand that allowed you to crack open oysters in search of pearls and transform them into jewelry.  On her first try Alicia cracked open an oyster with a large black pearl, which she had set into a necklace. As a bonus, the shop worker gave Alicia a second shell, which happened to have two smaller pearls in it (the oyster lady asked Alicia if twins run in her family). We continued on to Hale'iwa for lunch and a little window shopping, then off to Sunset Beach for the remainder of the day and to watch the sun set.

Days 26, 27, & 28: R&R

The past few days have been devoted purely to rest, relaxation, and reflection. In place of a long and detailed post please enjoy the following pictures from my new favorite spot on a nearby beach.
Every day for the past three days I have reserved time to sit in the sand, bob in the water, and reflect. 

So continues the healing process, in tranquility and beauty...

Catch up with you all in a day or two, true Island Style. 

Island Hop (Day 2): Ziplining, Hilo, & Black Sand Beaches

Haupia Pancakes

For the second day of our 48-hour Big Island trip we zipped around in our rental car to selected places on the Hilo side of the Big Island. After checking out of our hotel we cruised around looking for a breakfast spot and happened upon the Hawaiian Style Cafe, where Janine ordered the most delicious plate of haupia (coconut creme) pancakes while locals around us consumed egg & spam dishes and giant plates of loco moco. Each of these delicious treats was at least a finger's width tall and as large as an entire dinner plate. With a good breakfast under our belts, we headed north up the coast to the zipline shop to check in and gear-up for our Skyline Akaka Falls course.

A large van and three fit male guides transported us from the zipline shop to the agricultural fields where the course was set up. We bounced around inside the vehicle like bouncy balls (I was glad for my helmet) as we headed up, down, and around the many dirt paths leading through the groves of coffee beans, apple bananas, papayas, and cocoa plants that surrounded the course. The land on which the course is situated allegedly belongs to an older retired couple who took a helicopter ride to mark out land they wanted to buy on the island, then built a giant house and rented out their many acres to farmers and the like. Along the way I learned how bananas are grown and munched on a Latundan banana (apple banana), which was firmer and sweeter/tarter than the bananas that I am used

Throwing up shaka to Janine as I make my way across a line

to eating. Our course consisted of 7 lines, the first few of which were scaffolded to get us used to leaving the platform, steering, and sitting properly while in motion. Our guides were fantastic - the right mix of knowledgeable, humorous, and competent - and really enhanced our experience by describing the wild life around us. The sixth and seventh lines were my favorites, stretching over thousands of feet and offering extended views of natural landscapes below. The final like took us directly over Akaka Falls and is known as the longest zipline in Hawai'i at just over 3,300 feet long. This was my first time ziplining and the rush that I felt as my feet left the platform and my body hurtled along a steel cable at 50mph over a waterfall 2x the height of Niagara Falls was exhilarating. Looking back over Akaka Falls, I felt incredibly lucky to have added ziplining to  my ever-growing list of first-time adventures in Hawai'i. Life is going to seem a little dull after having so many amazing adventures over the past four weeks! The Akaka Falls line took about 3 minutes to complete, at the end of which we munched on some freshly chopped sugar cane waiting for us in a giant leaf and watched the other members of our five person party come across the falls. Check out the video Janine took (below) of her zip across Akaka Falls!



After our ziplining experience we cleaned up and hopped back in our rental to explore the Hilo Farmer's Market and grab some lunch. This market is a mid-sized gathering of artisans and food vendors from around the Big Island, and is very popular in Hilo. Janine and I wandered through covered tents where vendors prominently displayed lychee, coconuts, pineapples, kona coffee, macadamia nuts, local honey, apple bananas, dozens of types of greens & root veggies, taro, sweet potatoes, and infused liquids, among dozens of other types of local produce, some of which I could not identify. A second part of the Farmer's Market featured local artisans - screen printers, jewelry makers, basket weavers, soap makers, sea glass artists, and silk painters. I watched people pile flats of orchid plants at $20/flat into vans and others sell puppies out of boxes. There seemed to be a real sense of community in market-goers catching up; in general Hilo is much less touristy than most parts of O'ahu that I have been to so far. After exploring and making a few purchases Janine and I shared some Thai food and made our way back to our car to begin the quest for a Black Sand Beach.

Kehena Black Sand Beach from afar

Our target destination was Kehena Beach, also known as Dolphin Beach, a black sand beach in the Puna District. Black sand beaches are made up of tiny fragments of lava that shatter and fragment when lava contacts water. Kehena Beach, like Punaluu Black Sand Beach, was created virtually instantaneously by a violent interaction between a large lava flow and sea water.

Kehena Beach is also, as we later discovered, a nude beach. Our GPS stopped us outside a small unassuming gathering of ~8 cars on what appeared to be the side of a forested road. We hesitantly made our way through a barely-visible trail down the face of a volcanic rock cliff, searching for signs of sand before I saw the flash of a topless white woman between some large boulders.

We picked our way around the face of the cliff toward a now-visible stretch of black sand beach complete with pounding waves and naked humans basking on the hot sand and in the water. Never having been on a nude beach before, this took a little getting used to, especially when beach-goers would make direct eye contact with or talk to me in their birthday suits.

Tree pose with a lava tree mold

At one point an older nude man with dreadlocks busted out a wooden recorder and took up a power stance on a rock, playing his soul out to the sea. Another younger man reached for his bongos. As this eclectic concert took place I pieced together why we had not seen anyone enter or exit the beach via the trail that we had taken ... Imagine this: A woman and man dressed in casual clothing hauling themselves unassisted up ~300 foot roots of a banyan tree from the base of the beach to the top of the cliff. I motioned to Janine, speechless, when I saw this and we both watched in mild shock as a few others followed her, mostly just using their arms to pick their way to the top.

The waves were too ferocious for swimming that day, so we hung out for a bit on the beach then picked our way back up the cliff (neither of us were willing to try the  banyan root route) to our car and on to Lava Tree State Park.

Lava Tree State Park is an unusual accumulation of tree trunk lava molds left behind by a lava flow that swept through this forested area. We took a short hike through the park, which affords views of 40 of these volcanic features. In a way, the structures were haunting - petrified, crumbling shells of what had once been mighty trees. New growth between the molds of the old served as a reminder that new life is possible even in cases of extreme habitat devastation.

Happy and sweaty, Janine and I stopped at Cafe Pesto for a quick dinner, then on to the airport for our short flight back to O'ahu. Overall I have to say that this was one of the most wildly successful 48-hour vacations I could have ever imagined. We did so much in such a short period of time and didn't run ourselves ragged doing it! Mahalo to my wonderful traveling partner, Janine!

Island Hop (Day 1): Hawai'i Volcanoes National Park

'Eli 'eli kau mai (Let awe possess me) 

Let me begin by saying that there is no possible way that my words or the pictures below could do justice to some of the things that I have been witness to on this trip. The Hawaiian phrase above perfectly phrases my sentiments upon viewing the wonders that this National Park has to offer. I am humbled and amazed. Below is my feeble attempt to share a slice of my experience with you.

First rental car! The only perk of being 25!

This weekend was our big 48-hour Island Hop Adventure to the Big Island. As Janine can only get 2 days at a time off from work, we decided to make the most of her weekend and travel to the Big Island together. I spent most of Thursday getting ready and running errands for our trip while Janine worked, then we caught an evening flight out of Honolulu into Hilo. For those of you who don't know, Hawai'i is actually broken down into an archipelago of eight different islands and takes its name from the largest (i.e. Big Island) in the group. For this reason, the word Hawai'i refers to both the chain of islands and the largest island, which is where we found ourselves after a 50 minute plane ride. Hilo, HI is the rainiest city in the United States, averaging 129 inches of rain per year. It is the less touristy side of the island, known as "Old Hawai'i", and is situated on an active and a dormant volcano. We chose this side of the island over the more touristy Kona side partly based on a recommendation from my cousin, Megan, and partly out of a desire to see a different side of Hawai'i than the one available to us on O'ahu.

As we headed through the open airport in Hilo to the rental car gate, we were assaulted by the chirping noise of what I thought were birds but later found out were Coqui Frogs, an invasive species from Puerto Rico. I never actually saw these little frogs but do they ever make their presence known! We grabbed the keys to my very first rental car - a tiny Chevy Spark - and zipped off into the rainy, chirping night to our hotel, where we crashed (sleeping, not the car).

The next morning we grabbed a quick breakfast at the hotel restaurant, then began the 40 minute drive to Hawai'i Volcanoes National Park, where we spent the next 12 hours. Our first stop was the Visitor Center, where we stepped out of the car at 8am only to realize that the sleeveless shirts and shorts we'd donned earlier that day were not appropriate day wear for the elevation level of the park. It was 55 degrees F at 8am - the coldest I have been since arriving in Hawai'i - and it may as well have been snowing for how cold I was. We got some suggestions for activities from a ranger and immediately proceeded to the nearest lodge to purchase warmer clothing.

We proceeded onward toward the spot on our map marked "Steam Vents" (Steaming Bluff Overlook), an overlook marked by clouds of steam and sulfuric smog that hissed gently from deeply hidden places in the earth. The larger vents were easily identifiable (see the gated vents in the pictures below), but the less obvious ones wafted up from the earth between grasses and trees to drift gently off the face of the outlook, filling the air with an unexpected haze and appearing from afar to join with the clouds in the skies above.

It was at Steaming Bluff Overlook that we got our first view of Kilauea Volcano. I couldn't speak for a minute, just let out a soft "oh" under my breath and drank in the sight of the smoking giant that lay before me, surrounded by miles of cracked black earth, ash, and volcanic gas. It seemed to me simultaneously to be the site of extreme devastation and colossal beauty. From as high up as we were I could see a miniature landscape dotting the caldera of Kilauea. The billowing cloud of water, carbon dioxide, and sulfur dioxide that Kilauea emitted seemed to have a life of its own - taking shape with the wind, changing size, and changing color as the day progressed.

We walked through the Thurston Lava Tube, a lighted prehistoric cave where, several hundred years ago, a river of red lava rushed through. Lava tubes are (forgive me, geology friends) conduits through which lava is drained from a volcano. Lava travels away from a volcano underneath the surface of a lava flow and can leave cave-like tunnels in its wake (when cooled).

The walls of the tube were ridged and resembled the tracks left by earthworms in dirt, if earthworms were 1292 to 2192 °F. The eerie lighting in the tube allowed for yellowed glimpses of rock formations and the uneven ground within. Janine and I walked through twice, once to get the video (above) and once just to soak in the quiet dampness. Our footsteps echoed down the tunnel and water dripped down our necks from above.

We ventured out of the park for a brief lunch into the Village of Volcano - a combination art gallery, B&B, and vegan cafe located in the back garden of a house. On the way into Volcano Garden Arts we passed several sand gardens, a goat tethered to a run line like a dog, and a long garden table completely set for a 12-person tea party. We looked around the gallery while our soups and salads were made in the 5-table cafe, and sipped hibiscus iced tea in peace while observing honeybees flitting about in the expansive garden.

Upon returning to the Park, we were presented with the opportunity to join in on a very rare Ranger-led hike into a restricted zone of the park that the public normally cannot access. This hike is only offered a few times a year and we happened to be in the right place at the right time to hike down into the actual caldera of Kilauea with Ranger Dean (see slideshow above and videos below). We took about an hour to hike into the caldera of the volcano, stopping when Ranger Dean wanted to explain or show us something, before emerging onto the floor of the caldera.

Imagine a broken, cracked, black wasteland that, on closer inspection, is actually teeming with endemic plant life. Imagine smoking crevices of hot steam, the crunching of dozens of people walking on volcanic rock, and webs of volcanic glass as thin as hair. Imagine looking up the sides of a volcano and realizing that you are standing on earth that used to be 800 feet higher than the ground you are currently standing on. Ash and water residue drift down on you while you marvel at the abundance of ōhi‘a lehua‘, breath-holding flowers that can live for long periods of time without oxygen and are the first to grow on volcanic soil after an eruption. The whole experience is unreal.

ōhi‘a lehua‘ plants growing in the caldera

As long as this post is (it may be my longest, yet), it is a miniscule fraction of what I learned and saw in the Park, Ranger Dean was the most exceptional guide. He stopped at strategic points to explain causes of habitat loss, point out behaviors of plants, identify native and non-native species, and describe what was going on under our feet. I recognize so many new species of plants after his hike and have a better understanding of how the introduction of non-native species of plants and animals has drastically altered the ecosystems of the Hawai'ian Islands.

Pele's Hair - thin, flexible shards of volcanic glass

Below is a video clip of one of our educational pit-stops, if you're interested. Ranger Dean stopped us in the thick of the jungle and had us listen to the birds overhead. He whipped out one of his many photo cards used to supplement his talks, and showed us a grouping of over 50 different kinds of honeycreeper
birds, then proceeded to peel back a transparency to reveal the handful that are still around today. In the video below he pieces together the ways in which non-native species have destroyed endemic populations on the island and one of the ways in which Hawai'ian traditions have evolved - in the form of pig hunting - to help control this population loss.

In the time before dinner we took our zippy rental car down Chain of Craters Road toward the coast to see if we could find where the lava hit the sea. We drove through 30 miles of lava fields, blackened molten rock as far as the eye could see, stopping at places where lava flows were marked with years (i.e. November 1974) and allowing the magnitude of what we were seeing to wash over us. The air quality worsened (sulfur) and the roads cutting through the cooled lava grew twistier as we approached the coast where a haze of volcanic pollution (VOG) hung in the air. Off in the distance we saw a concentration of volcanic gases where the lava met the open sea. We didn't hike down to the coastline as it would have been a 14 mile RT hike on unmarked land (did I mention Janine was doing all of this hiking on a broken toe?) and nightfall was coming, but I felt content knowing that we'd been into the caldera of an active volcano, magma flowing beneath our feet.

Image courtesy of www.homeaway.com

Back near the visitor center Janine and I reserved window-side seats at the lodge's Volcano House Restaurant for dinner and a panoramic view of Kilauea Volcano as night fell. We watched the sun set over Mauna Loa and Kilaeau while drinking wine and eating dinner, literally watching the world burn.

As the sky darkened the glow from Kilauea turned from white, to pink, to orange, to a blood-red. Try as I might, my puny camera could not capture the fire as it light up the night sky full of stars. In complete darkness, staring at the active volcano before me with a clear sky revealing the constellations, I once again felt awed and humbled by the sights before me.

Day 22: Sacred Sites Tour

Sacred Sited Tour Guide (Uncle Joe)

In a completely spur of the moment move last week I signed up for a daytime ghost tour at the ITT Office. Wednesday morning found me waiting at the Waikiki Resort parking lot, scanning the road for a van marked "O'ahu Ghost Tours" which was to pick me up at 10:20. True island style a loudly painted vehicle cruised into the parking lot around 10:30. A slight Hawaiian man with a huge grin popped out of the driver's seat, called to me from across the lot and introduced himself as Uncle Joe (Uncle & Auntie are terms used by the Hawai'ian people to show respect for older generations. This is part of the concept of ohana, used to show that we are all family).

The next six hours were an unpredictable ride across all parts of the island to sites that are considered sacred to the Hawai'ian people.  Uncle Joe is the son of a Hawai'ian chief and grew up in a village before they were disbanded by the U.S. government in the 1950s. He was loud, charismatic, and spontaneous. Upon boarding the van he told us that he would not be taking us to any of the marked places on the brocure, but would instead be taking us to less touristy, more traditional sacred sites that held meaning for his people. As we drove from Waikiki to god-knows-where, Uncle Joe spewed stories about O'ahu. In response to one woman's question about a local shop, Uncle Joe went into a rant about the tourism crash that O'ahu experienced post-9/11and explained that most of the mom-and-pop stores in the downtown area went under or were bought out by one entrepreneur during that time. He showed a strong sense of understanding when it came to just about anything having to do with Hawai'i's culture, politics, or history.

Grave of many of Hawai'i's great leaders

At one point he compared the Hawai'ian people to native Americans, saying that native Hawai'ians, unlike Native Americans, were not recognized as indigenous people in Hawai'i  and had no place to call their own (here he referenced reservations and ownership of land). Uncle Joe described highways built through ancient burial sites, the corruption of certain aspects of Hawai'ian culture by tourists, and the way that the U.S. Government forced native Hawai'ians out of village living and into houses, field work, and eating processed foods.

At our first stop - the Royal Mausoleum - Uncle Joe showed us the grave where many of the Hawaiian peoples' leaders were buried, excepting Kamehameha I, who is rumored to have died in battle and whose bones were never found. Uncle Joe shared with us some of the legends surrounding Kamehameha I, who was portrayed as a brutally strong leader who occasionally murdered the children of his enemies and ate them (it was believed that eating the innocent made one invincible).

Queen's Bath

The Queen's Bath was fenced off to the public, but Uncle Joe drove us up to an overlook to see the sacred place where only the royals were allowed to bathe. A local judge now owns the land and maintains the bath, but had he attempted to drink from or immerse himself in the waters back in the time when Hawai'ian royalty reigned, he would have been beheaded, as was the punishment for all non-royals who came into contact with the water.

As we continued to drive we passed one of the filming locations for LOST (my dad and sister will be excited to hear) and one of the filming locations for the new Hunger Games movie, in Pali.We continued driving past Kaneohe and eventually came to a stop in the parking lot of a country club, where Uncle Joe, without explanation, led us through some thick brush and onto a private trail that was covered in roots and overrun by vines. As we hiked, Uncle Joe explained that rock path we were walking on was hand-laid by the people of Hawai'i over 800 years ago in a collaborative effort by many villages to create a path that would allow them to transport food and other goods. The rocks (some of them were huge) were carried from each village to a central location where they were taken, a few at a time, to build Likeke Trail over the course of a century.

We followed our guide across red clay, into thickets, and through tunnels of vines. Occasionally Uncle Joe would stop without warning and boom out a chant into the forest in Hawai'ian, asking for permission to enter, praising the gods, and showing appreciation for our surroundings. He stopped several times to collect materials and make offerings out of ferns and branches, which he placed on rocks or in water as we went. The trail dead-ended in a spectacular waterfall that Uncle Joe said was sacred to his people and had healing powers. His mother, a village healer, had brought him to the falls as a young child and would bathe the ill in the healing waters. We were directed to a concealed lookout from one edge of the waterfall where Uncle Joe said the leaders of allied villages would meet and monitor activity in the valley and from the sea.

Ulu'po heiau

The last place we visited was a Hawai'ian heiau - a sacred burial ground piled high with rocks, which Uncle Joe said concealed the bodies of many Hawai'ian warriors. Ulu'po, translation "abundance of breadfruit", was the site of Uncle Joe's village, where he lived until the 1950's when he said the U.S. government pushed him and his village out of their land by intentionally drying up their river and threatening them with imprisonment. I could hear the hurt in our guide's voice as he detailed the changes that the U.S.government forced on him and his people. Hawai'ians were no longer allowed to live in villages and were forced into homes they could not afford, they were made to work for money instead of food, and were paid with currency that they now traded for canned and processed foods.

The average Hawaiian person in his village, Uncle Joe said, lived to be 90 years old before the drastic diet changes that came with the foreigners who overran their island. With obvious pride Uncle Joe walked around the land and showed us where breadfruit, mango, papaya, coconut, and kukui nut trees once flourished, pulling things off of trees and bushes for us to taste as he went. He showed us where his village would gather to eat at the end of each day and where the Quonset hut that had been his home once stood before the U.S. government imprisoned his parents for refusing to leave the village (an act that forced Uncle Joe and many other children in his village into Child Protective Services for 2 years). His story of a displaced people, broken families, and lack of respect for native people changed the way that I think about Hawai'i and the United States.

How to Crack A Coconut (courtesy of Uncle Joe)

Cracking the Outer Husk

Getting to the Good Stuff!