When we arrived in Hawaii, it smelled fresh. It was neither too warm nor too cold on the Big Island, and the humidity was just right. Justin, one of the freshman in our dorm, lives in Waikoloa — as one thing led to another last semester, a whole group of us planned a trip to Hawaii over Winter Break: Ben, Kara, Thomas, myself, and of course Justin. Our plan was to bum around on the beach for ten days, camping and hiking and playing in the warm Pacific waters. The operation was a complete and utter success — and we have the scrapes and bruises to prove it!
Everyone but Justin met up at the airport in LA and arrived in Kona the evening of January 2nd. Justin picked us up, and we set up tents in his yard. The next night we got to do some real camping at Kiholo Bay, a beautiful park on the water, with low-growing trees and volcanic rocks smoothed by the ocean. The sun set spectacularly, and then you could see the infinite starscape overhead. And the lights of a few towns and cities on other islands across the water. After the first night, we just used the tents as tarps, and slept under the open sky, waking first to the light of the moonrise and later to the singing of birds.
We were well stocked with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, gorp, and apples. One night we even cooked chicken-apple sausages, a delicious treat. Unfortunately, sleeping on the hard ground did a number on our backs, so we ended up sleeping in some spare rooms in Justin’s house more often than not. This arrangement also gave us access to more food options, and we actually ended up cooking a few proper meals — the best one was ravioli and salad, which we made together, all crowded in the small kitchen.
Though we managed to take a few showers, most of the time we were clean enough (though salty) from bodyboarding, snorkeling, swimming, and attempted surfing. Our first full day in Hawaii we took bodyboards to Hapuna. It was fun enough, but the waves were soon so large that the lifeguards kicked everyone off the beach. And the beach itself was covered in unfortunate thorny vines, spreading across the sand — the thorns were nasty, let me tell you, for while I don’t think anyone got them really lodged in their feet, the few that stuck in my sandals poked all the way through.
The worst injury I got was a big scrape on the sole of my foot that I got while trying to retrieve a lost fin. We had gone surfing with Justin’s neighbor Luci at Pine Trees beach (it actually has mangroves but the original Europeans couldn’t tell the difference). I actually caught a very nice wave and rode it all the way in… but by the time I realized I was supposed to stand up it was too late. However, I did discover that shortboards make nice bodyboards. At any rate, I got out of the water early and watched the boys battle the waves, sitting with Kara, who doesn’t particularly like the surf. This was near the end of the trip, and I had so far avoided cutting up my feet and knees like everyone else. But my time had come: I waded out to pick up the orphaned fin (I don’t know whose it was), and the strong waves kept pushing me over the big algae-covered lava rocks making up the shore. Finally, feeling rather banged up, I gave up my search. It took a while to notice the cut — a big flap of skin still attached on side, now full of sand. I cleaned it out with salt water, and then took care of it more properly when we got back to Justin’s. It looks to be healing nicely (knock on wood), which is more than Ben can say — his ankle scrape is a bit infected at this point.
On the 4th we went snorkeling at Two Steps. We had tried to find another place that was supposed to have some of the best snorkeling ever, but it could only be accessed by kayaks. We only had the Truck (our primary vehicle, really the sixth member of our team). Two Steps, however, proved to be awesome. Just in the bay, a couple of green sea turtles were hanging out. Thomas and Kara tried snorkeling for the first time, but they couldn’t get the hang of breathing through the snorkle tube, and soon turned back. Justin, Ben, and I, meanwhile, saw an amazing number of fish — they were everywhere! Bright yellow ones, rainbow spotted ones, angel fish, large parrot fish, and even a Humu Humu Nuku Nuku Apua’a. We just had to watch out for the spiny black urchins that lurked in the shallow reef.
Later on we went snorkeling at Beach 69, a gorgeous sandy beach, with trees growing almost horizontally along the ground. They made for nice climbing, and provided ample shade while we sat or slept on the sand — we ended up going to 69 a couple times, it was so pleasant to hang out at. The snorkeling was not quite as brilliant as Two Step, but with a little exploring, I saw a spotted eel, a large needle fish, a puffer fish, more Humus, and I came within a foot or two of some big colorful fish as I came in through the shallows. I dove down to get a closer look at the reef and fish in the deeper parts, and coming up I could see the sunbeams breaking through the surface. It felt like flying…
Not all water was salted, however. At Kiholo Bay there was a Queen’s Bath, a lava tube with parts of its roof caved in, providing access to a clear spring-fed pool. It was freezing cold, but once I was used to it, it was easy to explore. The boys had gone in earlier, and remembered to bring flashlights this time. Kara and I joined them, traveling through the still water to the dark cavern in the back. Ben managed to overcome his claustrophobia, and it was well worth it. I only started to worry when the boys were brave enough — or stupid enough — to try free cave diving, exploring a large cavern fully under the water. Most of us just ducked their heads down to look, but Justin scared us by actually swimming through — I was biting my lip until he came out another entrance a few meters away. That boy can sure hold his breath, let me tell you. I stressed the incredible dangers of cave diving, and we all ran shivering into the ocean to warm up. Kara and I were often the voices of reason and concern during the trip, and while I hate to be a worry-wort, there are times when the cost of stupidity is just too high.
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(this photo by Ben)
On Sunday we had the biggest adventure. Kara was feeling sick, but the rest of us met up with Justin’s friends, Evan and Alex, to go hiking in Waipi’o Valley. The road down was ridiculously steep, so much so that we had to walk it. The Truck, our only four-wheel-drive vehicle, had died on us a day or two before — fortunately only a block from Justin’s house, from where we pushed it back and called triple-A. At any rate, we made it down into the valley, a hot and humid jungle. We were essentially bush-wacking as we repeatedly lost the proper trail, crossing and re-crossing the river we were traveling alongside. The terrain was terribly uneven, largely mossy boulders and fallen trees. I am not a good scrambler, and after having been attacked by mosquitos, stabbed by branches, and bruised by rocks, by the time we got to the major river crossing an hour or so later, I was ready to quit.
Through a combination of miscommunication and misunderstanding — a river will cancel out about every other syllable if you try to shout across it — I gave in, changing into my bathing suit and swimming across to where the boys were waiting to continue the hike. A tenth of a mile, they said. Yes, only a tenth of a mile. This distance was not only widely inaccurate, it was also composed entirely of large boulders that required some careful climbing on my part. I don’t trust my feet much, so by the end my butt and knees were sore and bruised.
(this photo by Ben)
Finally we reached our destination: Hi’ilawe Falls. This waterfall runs straight down a cliff. A very high, very steep cliff. The power of the falls brought out a lot of testosterone in the males of the party (that is, everyone but me). I stared at them in awe, my mouth agape, as they swam under the beating water to the rocks behind and jumped off. Ben felt the rush most of all, shouting at the top of his lungs, “I am a Golden God!” I hesitantly swam out after them, sat on the rocks until I was cold, and then swam back, suddenly wishing that I could pee as easily as a guy.
Fortunately we found the real trail on return journey. This was good, because the sun was setting fast as we headed back from the falls. Justin managed to slip behind me at one point and he leapt out, grabbing my shoulders: “Jesus!” I shouted (and I think not in vain). Ben laughed, as it’s the most I’ve ever sworn. I got my comeuppance soon enough, however, when I tripped — the only time in the entire hike — while crossing a small grave site. But we reached the road without further incident, using our flashlights to guide the way. We hitchhiked — my first time — in the back of a pickup to the top of the valley. Home again, home again, jiggity jig.
Though Waikoloa is on the dry side of the island, we apparently brought the rain with us. Exhausted and a bit rained out, we took Monday day off, waiting for the truck to get fixed and our muscles to recoup. There was much napping, and I finally saw Snakes on a Plane (gratuitous, it’s true, but there was a snake button on the microwave). The rain was refreshing, but considering how rare it is, it’s no surprise that there are few trees on the dry side of the island. Every time our adventures took us nearer the wet side, I was filled with happiness by the presence of great lush and crooked trees. At one point, near Two Steps, the feeling was quite profound — the area is now on the short list of places I want to live when I grow up.
The wet side of the island is, however, truly wet. When we made a little road trip to Volcano National Park on the 10th, and there was practically a monsoon in Hilo. We stopped by ‘Akaka Falls State Park on the way — it was very touristy, an easy walking loop with great views of a green valley and large waterfalls. It failed to bring about much awe, especially after having made a difficult trek to a much more impressive waterfall, but the greenery made for some excellent photographs.
Volcano National Park, on the other hand, was pretty hard core. There were sulfurous gasses coming out of old fields of lava, and a two-hour hike to see fresh lava pouring into the ocean. We were a bit unprepared, with only two flashlights and two bottles of water. Kara and I decided to head back part way in. I was not having a whole lot of fun stumbling over sharp ‘a’a in the dark, Kara’s asthma was not doing well with the volcanic air, and besides, there was a red-hot lava flow visible from the roadway. We made sandwiches and walked along the road, looking at cockroaches and centipedes, worrying about the others — especially after the rangers left, most of the other visitors returned, and it began to rain. But they all came back, thankfully, fully limbed and everything.
The next day we went on another road trip, this time to the top on Mauna Kea. When we stopped at the Information Center to acclimate, a park ranger warned us that the Truck might not make it to the top. We were all quite fond of the Truck, with its open-air back seats and rugged good looks. It had taken us all over the island. It just couldn’t quite make it to the top of this mountain. When it started making some funny noises, Justin parked it and we all prepared to hike the rest of the way. Well, it wasn’t long (and I mean a couple dozen meters) before we were all breathing heavily and Kara was about to turn back due to asthma. All was not lost, however — we managed to hitchhike with some photographers, sitting in the bed of their truck, with great views of the mountains and sky.
The air was crisp and the clouds gorgeous. The altitude made colors sharp and vibrant. The observatories stood in clusters, little bubbles against the cold clear summit. And there was snow. Yet once again we found ourselves unprepared, with several members of our party wearing sandals, and Thomas wearing half a dozen towels for warmth. And we soon discovered that the photographers weren’t leaving until after sunset. (We blame the low oxygen content for our wise decision making here.)
Walking downhill was easier than walking uphill, so we slowly made our way along the road. Van after van passed by, but five people is just too many for hitching a ride. Finally Kara and I decided to brave a pair of porta-potties in preparation for a very long hike. As soon as we had closed the doors, the boys shouted — a group from the Gemini Observatory had enough seats! It was probably thanks to there being only three visible hitchhikers that they stopped in the first place, but they were quite friendly. We chatted the whole way down to where the Truck was parked, marking the end to my adventures in Hawaiian hitchhiking.
We drove through the sunset that night, our last sunset in Hawaii. The next day we caught some last-minute waves at Hapuna before heading home. The bodyboarding was awesome: the waves were large without being too powerful, and I caught one after another, riding them all the way in. The rip-tide caused some excitement, though — it pulled us toward some rocks when we weren’t looking. I could touch the bottom with my feet, but I couldn’t move forward. An annoyed lifeguard came over and yelled at us to move. It probably looked pretty funny, standing in the waves, apparently defying his orders. Justin finally helped me get to shallower water, and I felt kind of silly for not being able to do it myself. I guess when you try to fight the rip-tide, the rip-tide wins.
We cooked dinner, said goodbye to Justin’s family, and headed off to the airport. The travel to San Jose was fraught with misadventure: I managed to drop my ID in Kona, Thomas’s bag was not transferred between carriers, and Justin missed his connecting flight in LA and his luggage. All that was lost was eventually found, however, and we all made it to Ben’s grandparents’ house in San Jose safe and sound.
California was freezing, and literally. A cold streak was making the temperatures drop below zero (Celsius). But we spent the weekend enjoyably, exploring Ben’s hometown of Santa Cruz, playing with his grandparent’s adorable and audacious kittens, relaxing in the hot tub, checking out an antique street fair (where I got an awesome leather satchel), and hanging out at the docks and the beach.
Monday Ben drove us all the way up to Reed in an epic eleven-hour journey. Yet we made it back without wanting to kill each other, relaxed and ready for — snow? Snow! Inches of snow, the very next day! From bodyboarding to plastic-bag-sledding in less than a week. It feels weird, but it’s been more fun than I could imagine. Now we’re all looking forward to our next trip… St. Thomas and the Virgin Islands, anyone?
