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.