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.
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.
No comments:
Post a Comment