The most beautiful place ever

What is this strange, unfamiliar sensation creeping over me? I don't recognize it, and that makes me suspicious. But I think I recall what it is. Dare I say it? It is a feeling of contentment?

I think it just might be.

Which is weird.

We drove along the "Other Hana Highway." This highway snaked along the northwest part of the island and was unfamiliar territory on an island I've already tread. The road was bumpy and full of hairpin blind turns that made me nervous for head-on collisions (Lilo lost an "eye"--her headlight, it kind of just dangled there). But eventually, the stunning scenery of the jagged lava rock against the green growth wedged in the rocks won me over. I couldn't stop smiling.

It takes a lot for me to add a place to my list of "the most beautiful things I've ever seen" but the Mushroom Rock was shoved near the top of the list today. It competed against the crisp air of the Canadian Rockies, the red sand of Wadi Rum in Jordan, the grassy mountaintops of Yangmingshan National Park in Taiwan and the first time I saw the ocean peeping over the dunes in New Jersey.

The view from the mushroom rock--no justice done

These places have all taken my breath away. The Mushroom Rock was off of a gravel pullout. A few middle aged women looked at us with skepticism, in our flip flops, about our decision to hike down to the rock. I wanted to see the shore. We went down, pushing our way through long grasses and spiky bushes, down the slippery wheel marks made by a four wheeler and climbed our way to the top of the rocks. Looking over the ocean was beautiful. The incredible sapphire colored water crashed along the lava rock with such force it created waves that splashed up 20 feet. Matched with the sheer cliff faces along the side, it was spectacular.

But when I turned around, my heart did some version of skipping a beat. No picture could ever do it justice. The lime greens and yellows against the sandy ground and lava rock made a color palette so vivid I never had seen anything like it. I stared at it, wishing my eyes to permanently implant it into my cornea. We stood there, in silence, only breaking to say how beautiful it was. Standing there, that weird feeling--contentment--renewed, if only for a brief moment. But still, how beautiful it was.

Sing it with me: I'm on a highwayyy to Hana

You know that saying, the one that says it's not about the destination, it's about the journey. Well today it was false on both counts. I get it. Nature is green. Water...falls and the road to Hana is farther away from straight than a gay boy.

It was literally the longest 36 miles of my life. Driving took us 4 hours to get THIRTY-SIX miles. Don't drive Hana if you are motion sick or you will be puking your guts out for a very, VERY long time. The road loops and turns, goes up and down, round and round for a seemingly endless eternity. But really it's probably only a mile. The farther along the drive goes, the crankier the driver gets. Almost as if the driver's seat is a Horcrux, weighing down the soul of the user. (I'm rereading the last Harry Potter, so I feel as it is an appropriate reference.)

Our successful trail finding

Sure, there are places to pull over and see...nature. Nina and I started with a lonely hike off of mile marker 5. We hopped a fence and headed down through the bamboo forest. The thick canopy shielded us from the rising sun and the muddy ground made negotiating the slick rocks that was our bridge over a stream a bit more difficult. The hike was supposed to take us to two falls. The first was dry, so it was a disappointment. It took us a few minutes to find the trail to the second falls, and we basically ended up forging our own through more rocks in the streambed. It was beautiful though. And considering what was to come, I wish I would have enjoyed it more.

Lower Puohokamoa Falls

From there we took off to the Lower Puohokamoa Falls. Also one of those places that people don't generally stop at because most don't see it. But it was HUGE and spectacular. From there things went downhill, much like the road.

After a brief detour to buy a 5 dollar loaf of famous banana bread (it was good, but not good enough to pay five bucks for) we headed to the black sand beach. I was so excited for this beach, but did not count on the throngs of people that angrily waited behind our poor little car for me to park. Lilo doesn't drive fast and has a poor turning radius, so don't blame it on my driving abilities. I think that driving one lane roads up and down a mountain more than earns me a few stars on my driving record.

Black Sand Beach

Wai'anapanapa State Park is home to the only black beach in Maui. It's made from lava rocks and has only lasted this long because it is situated in a bay. It's not good for swimming, and because it was cloudy and rainy, it wasn't good for getting a tan either.

The town at the end of this arduous journey is Hana. And there's not much to it except a dead end. So we turned around to hit the Blue Pool which is supposed to be a spectacular waterfall. Guess what? It's now closed to the public. Thanks, out-of-date guidebook.

By this point, my patience for this road was about as short as the amount of straight roads on the island. Thankfully, we stumbled upon Ching Pond. It's a local place. Which is weird, because it's in the middle of the tourist highway. A little hop over a guardrail and down a path leads you to a spring-filled pond that sits at the base of a waterfall. The water is clear and chilly, so cold I got goosebumps beneath the water. But it is beautiful. We shared the pond with only one other Hawaiian family. A father, his 9 year old daughter and her friend. The dad sat and by the pond overlooking the same pond he took a 25 foot jump from in his youth (off the cement overhang that seems dangerously near the rocks below). But now he watched his young children from the side, reading a book and occasionally gazing to see what the kids were up too.

Ching Pond

Those kids were chatterboxes, pointing out to Nina and myself that we were older than them and that I did more of a bellyflop than a dive (which makes sense, since I failed that part of swimming lessons.) Still they showed us the best points to jump off from and how there was a secret ledge right next to the waterfall you could sit on, letting the frothy water spill over you. "It's like a cold-tub," exclaimed one of the little girls.

That dip was all we needed to metaphorically wash away the bad experience on Hana Highway. Word to the wise, unless you love tourists, crowds and driving. Just....don't.  

Sunrise at 10,000 feet.

Wrapped in a blanket and surrounded by fleece, I still felt my knees knocking together, bracing themselves in the windy and cold conditions. It was dark. So dark that the only light was the milky way and shooting stars. And my cell phone.

I somehow roused myself out of bed at 2:45 AM to go see the famous sunrise at Haleakala Crater. They said be there an hour before sunrise and that it takes an hour and a half to get there. Sunrise is at 5:38 AM, which means we were out the door by 3.

We drove through the seemingly abandoned roads. Our car, Lilo, chugged her way up the twisting turns all the way up to 10,000 feet, the only light from our headlights. Although I couldn't see, I could feel the sharp face of the mountain outside the passenger side door, plummeting below. I had to remind myself to breathe.

I was not at all prepared with how cold the mountain was. I was in Hawaii! Why would I need a WINTER coat. Nevertheless, after rummaging through closets, I found enough layers for the morning to be bearable. There was no light in the sky when we arrived, yet little by little a blue appeared in the far east, outlining the faint shapes of the surrounding crater.

People dressed in all sorts of wacky winter wear clung to their cameras, angling for the perfect shot. For children, and there were some, I could see this as being anti-climactic. Why are mom and dad dragging me out of bed in the middle of the night for THIS?! But for the older folks, it was waiting for beauty.

As the new light of day filled the sky, the smokey clouds lit up and the sky became an eerie shade of green and purple. At 10,000 feet, we were above the clouds, so I could watch them move effortlessly over the lip of the crater and into the valley. The clouds looked like pillows and I felt as if I were dancing on heaven. It was very peaceful.

But after standing out in the freezing cold, you could imagine I was getting my feezing self back into the freezing car. By 6:30 or so, Nina and I were on our way back down the mountain for a short hike. It was already warmer, so I stripped off some of my layers. After the hike, we met a couple of nice hawaiians who were looking for a ride back up the mountain so they could undertake their 6 hour hike. We happily obliged and gained insight on the best beaches for scuba diving.

I collapsed into bed at 10 AM, already full of the days adventures, realizing for many, the day hadn't even started yet. 

Chicken Wrangling and Sunburns

As I was sitting on Baldwin Beach outside of Pa'ia/Haiku, I heard a woman exclaim to a friend "It looks like it's going to rain." To which the other woman said "Of course it looks like it's going to rain, it is Haiku."

That's how our morning started---with rain. Nina and I both woke up at 6 AM (it's the jet lag OK) to a fine mist falling outside. It almost dried as soon as it hit the ground. But none the less this rain, combined with the rising sun, led to spectacular rainbows. I have seen close to 10 in the past 36 hours.

Part of my housesitting duties is caring for the chickens that lurk in a coop in the back of the yard. They are TERRIFYING. They do this weird turn with their head and just STARE at you. Then take their taloned feet and dig into the ground when you let them out. And don't even get me started on trying to get them BACK into the coop when their play time is over---it's really hard, and I don't like touching them. But on the other hand, eating farm fresh eggs from your own chickens is quite satisfying (and delicious).

By 730 we left Haiku (I can't get up that early back on the mainland, but put me on an island, and apparently I'm a morning person) and headed for Waliku and on to 'Iao Valley State Park. I truely felt like I was in an episode of lost. The forest was plush with foliage and the air smelled like the Botanical Gardens, fresh with the smell of exotic flower. I guess the 'Iao Needle that the park is famous for is also a famous phallic symbol from ancient tribes. You can only spend about a half hour in the par though, there isn't that much to do there.

So Nina and I decided to hike.

The Lahaina Pali Trail was rated "challenging" by the Lonely Planet guide. and dammit. it was. Although the trailhead was only six or so miles south of the jungle-like 'Iao Valley, these mountains looked like Sub-Saharan Africa--tall brush and long-legged trees separated the landscape from the dark colored lava rock. We climbed. And climbed. And climbed. And I bitched and bitched and bitched. I love hiking, but I also am able to complain the whole way. It was entirely rocks I was scrambling over rocks. Yes, the view was pretty and overlooked the bay, but ugh. It. was. so. hard. We went about half way and turned around. (that still took us 3ish hours). It wasn't until the end we met some other totally radical lonely soles taking this journey.

We were hot. We were sweaty. We probably smelled not so good. It was most definitely time for the beach. We ended up at Baldwin Beach and there was hardly anyone there. Perfect. The water was warm  and salty. The sun was hot. There were hipsters smoking weed, there were teenagers on turntables. There was a small child with dreadlocks learning to surf with his bald and tattooed father.

After an hour, I decided my skin had take enough heat so we moseyed through Pa'ia, an town that mixes an upscale boutique feel with hippies. It's very cute.

Now, exhausted, I sit on my couch nursing my awful sunburns with aloe and lotion. I am officially less white than the sand. 

Aloha Maui!

Well, 15 hours of travel (including delays on all legs of the journey) I have arrived in Maui in some semblance of style.

No, I'm not talking about getting lei'd at the airport. I'm talking about our classic Nissan Sentra that we rented. It has a good 100,000 miles on it and struggles to go over 40 mph. But with how many crazy turns the roads have, it's probably a good thing. Oh, and we named her. Lilo naenae ka'pookah.

We arrived in Maui with a rainbow. The roads were dotted with sugar cane and palm trees. At a stoplight a guy gave us the "hang ten" sign, followed quickly by a shirtless boy longboarding. This is definitely a whole new zip code. Board shorts seem to be the norm as does ridiculous pricing.

Yes. that is 10.39 for a NORMAL jar  of peanut butter

$4.35 for a gallon of gas. $5.29 for a gallon of milk. Don't even get me started on the price of peanut butter.

Our house is adorable. Simply charming and has all the comforts of home, plus a few extras. Like lizards and ants that were familiar in Jordan. Tomorrow, after a well deserved sleep, Nina and I are setting out to hike one of the most difficult hikes in all of Maui! Wish us luck!

The Traveling Wonder travels again

After over five months of being landlocked, I’m headed out to sea once again. While I’ll be visiting a sand-filled place, I am most definitely trading my scarves for swimsuits.

Over Easter this year, my family received an email from a distant cousin asking for people to house sit for them in Maui while they headed back to the mainland. Obviously I jumped on board. It’s Maui--and free accommodation.

And of course I’m itching to see new places again. Hawaii just wasn’t on the radar, but I’m excited nonetheless. Especially since Haiku, where I am staying, is the “artsy” part of Maui.

As part of my housesitting duties, I am to care for chickens, bunnies and goats. Looks like I’ll have to prove my Iowan-ness.  

I’ll be gone for two weeks, so check in, as I will be blogging it. Hopefully I’ll come back with a wicked tan (but probably not).

Aloha!