Saturday, November 06, 2004
Hawaii, Part 4: Our last full day on the Big Island
Woke up at literally the crack of dawn on October 6th. We were going to Volcanoes National Park on the opposite side of the island and a considerable drive away. We put on our sturdiest comfy shoes and loaded the Kermit-mobile with snacks, bottled water and maps. I had freshly charged batteries in the camera and was ready for a long day of photo taking.
We decided to take the circular route starting north, then curving around east and finally south again to the park. There is a road that cuts across the island called the Saddle Road, and had I been healthy, we would have taken the short cut. Problem with the Saddle Road is that it is not well-maintained and there are no services of any kind, which is not a good idea for anyone that needs a restroom reasonably nearby at all times. So we took the long but scenic way.
Travelling across the north part of the island was interesting on the dry western half, which closely resembled many parts of the midwest or western states. There were lots of ranches and areas that resembled prairie. You'd almost forget you were in Hawaii until you saw trees or ferns that were clearly tropical.
When we got to the wet side of the island, it was like we had crossed into a South American rain forest...dense, lush green foliage, steep cliffs and humidity. Decided to take a short detour to see Akaka Falls, probably the most famous of the Big Island's waterfalls. On the way there, we were blessed with the first clear view of Mauna Kea since we had arrived....we could even see the telescopes on the summit.
Turns out there are actually two waterfalls to see....a circular path leads you past both of them. It was good to get out and stretch my legs, and the scenery was quite rewarding. There were gorgeous plants I had never seen before, and some I had only seen in movies, like bamboo. I am guessing that rain forests elsewhere would be similar.
Akaka Falls was well worth the detour. The weather had been a bit dry for the area recently, so the volume of water wasn't that great, but it is still an impressive drop (420 feet), and it is sort of mesmerizing watching the mist glimmer in the sun. The other waterfall, Kahuna Falls, was further from the road and a bit harder to see, but still very pretty.
I got fairly tired and a bit dizzy hiking back to the Jeep, but didn't mind too much since I knew I would have to sit for quite awhile longer once we got back on the road again. We made a brief stop in Hilo so Dan could get some Starbuck's and arrived at the entrance to the park about 11am.
The information center was being renovated and had set up temporary quarters in a trailer, which was a bummer because it was packed with people. I took just a quick peek in there and then moved on to the art gallery down the road, which was much more rewarding. It was full of work by local artists....carved koa, Hawaiian quilting, paintings, and my favorite, photos of the volcano. There were signed prints available for sale by G. Brad Lewis, world famous for his shots of Kilauea over the years. I just couldn't leave without taking some home. I bought four matted prints, intending to group them together and frame them at home. Two were shots of lava flowing into the sea, one was a moonrise, and one showed a burst of lava that formed a heart shape titled "Pele's Heartbeat".
Now I was ready to do some sightseeing. Due to my respiratory problems we bypassed the first stop with its heavy sulphur fumes and went to the steam vents. It was amazing to see so much steam rising so far from the volcano's center. It was quite lovely in a way, enveloping the landscape wth a constantly moving fog. It made one wonder at the strength of the force behind such a display.
Next we pulled into the area for the observatory, which had an awesome view of Kilauea's crater. It was much larger than I expected. Even though there was no active eruption going on there, you could easily see plumes of steam rising from various parts of the crater floor. You could also get a visual account of the volcano's history by observing the types of mineral, the various layers of rock, and the places where the crater had collapsed over the years. It was a bit eerie, knowing something so powerful was in the ground beneath your feet.
As we drove further south along the road through the park, we noticed signs pointing out lava flows from various eruptions, listing the year they occurred. The flows that occurred 20 years ago or less were still pitch black and devoid of any vegetation. But the ones from about 1979 and older had the beginnings of plant life growing right out of the lava. I was amazed that the vegetation could come back so fast.
A rather amusing sight was the crossing signs with geese pictured on them. The Hawaiian state bird is a goose called the nene, and flocks of them live in the park. In recent years, tourist have made the mistake of feeding the birds so that they have become tame. As a result, the geese started approaching the road looking for handouts, and many have been run over by cars. There were many stern signs on the road warning that it was now illegal to feed the geese.
I had Dan pull over when we got to an observation area for the opposite side of Kilauea's crater. There were signs warning of sulphur fumes, but I found them to not be too bothersome as long as the wind didn't switch directions, which happened once or twice but only briefly. This end of the crater had some very striking yellow and red colorings to the rock (sulphur and iron, respectively) and a much better view of the areas that had collapsed. I was fascinated.
Around the time I returned to the Kermit-mobile, it began to rain. I hoped it would let up, but as we approached one of the highlights of the park, Desolation Trail, it started pouring. Knowing that I would never get another chance to see this area, I put on my coat, hiding my camera in its case underneath, and headed for the trail. Dan wasn't too enthused about getting soaked, so he stayed in the Jeep and waited for me. Much to my surprise, the new shoes I had purchased for the trip (I had bought them for their sturdy tread) were fully waterproof, and my feet didn't even get wet as I trudged the better part of a mile.
The beginning of the trail was very green and beautiful, and then suddenly there were all these tree trunks that had been felled by lava in the 1950's. Amidst this volcanic black carpet punctuated by dead wood, there were stunning pink flowers, small new trees and prairie-like grasses growing out of the starkness. It was the most surreal thing I have ever viewed; I would have believed some artist had staged it had I not known otherwise.
Once past the lava field, I crossed back into lush green forest with red ginger blossoms and other lovely flowers. Over the noise of the rain pelting my jacket, I thought I could faintly hear something stirring in the woods. I stopped and waited, and very far away, I saw a few nene disappearing behind some trees. And not far from them was a vivid flash of blue that I later found out was a variety of pheasant. I would have loved to have tried to take a picture of these birds, but the rain was still coming down too hard.
I continued on, knowing the longer I was out, the more tired I would get, so I proceeded to the end of the trail: an overlook into another crater. It was quite an awesome sight, and the rain died down just barely enough for me to attempt a few photos. There was already someone there with a tripod and a fancy 35mm with a telephoto lens. His wife was helping him by holding a towel over the camera to keep it dry. We chatted a bit, and I found out that they were at the park on a day trip excursion away from a cruise they were taking.
There was a side road from the main path that I could have taken had I been healthy, but I knew just going back the way I came was going to be my limit physically, so I skipped the side trail. On the way back through the lava field, the rain had slowed down to a light drizzle, so I was lucky enough to have a chance to take some photos. When I got back to the Jeep, I was amazed to discover that I had been gone for an hour.
Next we went down Chain of Craters Road. There were various extinct volcanoes this way, some with craters that looked a bit like moonscapes, and some were so old that they were totally overgrown with vegetation. Here and there were more lava flows from Kilauea. The elevation gradually dropped as we neared the ocean. One of the scenic overlooks was truly stunning: black lava alternating with greenery and then suddenly, the jagged coastline in the far distance. The closer we got to the water, the more the road twisted and turned, until we came to the coastline and a ranger station right in the road and a road block. We made a u-turn there and found a place to park along the side of the road.
I got out and headed for a lava wall that had been built along a cliff. I looked over, and what I saw took my breath away: jagged lava many feet high against which the brilliant blue Pacific surged. Some of the lava had been broken down by the fierce waves in one spot into absolutely pitch black sand, completely untouched by human hands. At the top of the lava cliffs, a lone strip of palm trees swayed in the breeze. They had been surrounded by volcanic activity and had even had their trunks and some leaves burned, but the trees were still alive somehow, a strange little oasis defiant of Pele.
Back at the ranger station, there were signs indicating that one could continue down the road on foot approximately one mile to see where an eruption in the 1980's had literally overrun the road and closed it permanently. Dan and I decided this would be worth a look, so we grabbed some bottled water and started walking. Not far from the ranger station, there were a few telescopes set out. Through one, you could see a small tree on fire due to a small eruption. You couldn't see any lava because it was too bright outside and there was too much smoke, but one of the rangers said it would probably be visible that night.
As we went further down the road, we got a better look at the partially burned strip of palm trees. At their bases were roapy strands of pahoehoe, a type of lava that dries smooth in fascinating patterns. The other type of lava, a'a, dries in thin razor sharp points and could be seen in other parts of the park. The flow that literally caused the end of the road was impressive...pahoehoe a few feet high. Some people were scrambling over it to get to some sightseeing trails, but I was too worn out to do that and returned to the Jeep.
The only way through the park on Chain of Craters Road is to go back the way you came in. Once you get back to the main road, Crater Rim Drive, it makes a loop around Kilauea. We finished up the loop we hadn't yet covered and made one more stop at the Thurston lava tube. A lava tube is made when newer lava flows through older lava and leaves a hole in the middle. This tube was large enough to walk through. The inside was so smooth that it looked manmade and polished. The finishing touch on a long but fascinating journey.
By this time it was 5pm, and we knew we'd be out very late if we didn't start heading back. It was beginning to rain again anyway. So we left the park continuing south; the highway would wind around the southern edge and back west and finally north again to where we began.
I had been utterly fascinated by the black sand at the end of Chain of Craters Road and asked Dan to make a short stop at Punaluu, where there was an accessible beach. We found it easily enough right as the rain stopped, and we took a look around. I was hypnotized by the white waves rising and falling against the pure blackness. I gathered some of the sand and put it in a sandwich bag to take home. Upon closer inspection, I realized that the sand was recently formed as the grains were huge and quite heavy.
Back on the road, shortly after we rounded the southernmost part of the island (and the southernmost point of the U.S.), the sun began to set in Kau. The rain clouds had mostly dispersed, leaving just few to make the sunset interesting. The moon began to rise simultaneously, and because of the volcanic ash in the air, it became a golden glowing sphere over the sun reflected in the expanse of the Pacific off the coast. Soon, the whole sky turned gold....I have never witnessed such a spectacle in all my life. Because we were on a highway, it was risky to just pull over where we were to view the sunset, and we weren't near any towns, so Dan found a small private dirt road and pulled off so he could safely take some pix. Over the next several minutes, the gold shifted to orange and then finally to deep red before the sun took its final bow.
Somehow in my planning of this road trip, I had failed to realize the great distance between towns on our way back, and after the sun went down, I suddenly remembered that gas stations were few and tended to close early. The Jeep got much fewer miles per gallon than our little car at home did, so it came as a bit of a shock that we didn't have enough gas to get us all the way back to Waikoloa. I kept a lookout for the nearest place to fill up, but all the ones we saw were already closed. Just when things were getting a bit panicky, I remembered the place we'd gotten batteries on Sunday and had Dan check there. We just barely made it there, and fortunately, it was still open. Whew!
About this time, exhaustion from the long day overtook me, and I couldn't wait until we got back to the condo to find something substantial to eat. So we went to the Outback Steakhouse in Kona. By this time it was 8pm, and the wait was enormous, but I simply couldn't go any further, so we agreed to wait for a table. I ordered their smallest steak and found it absolutely delicious. We pulled up to the condo about 10pm I think.
I don't remember a great deal about the rest of the evening; I'm sure I collapsed soon after getting everything ready for check-out the next morning and the flight to Honolulu.....
We decided to take the circular route starting north, then curving around east and finally south again to the park. There is a road that cuts across the island called the Saddle Road, and had I been healthy, we would have taken the short cut. Problem with the Saddle Road is that it is not well-maintained and there are no services of any kind, which is not a good idea for anyone that needs a restroom reasonably nearby at all times. So we took the long but scenic way.
Travelling across the north part of the island was interesting on the dry western half, which closely resembled many parts of the midwest or western states. There were lots of ranches and areas that resembled prairie. You'd almost forget you were in Hawaii until you saw trees or ferns that were clearly tropical.
When we got to the wet side of the island, it was like we had crossed into a South American rain forest...dense, lush green foliage, steep cliffs and humidity. Decided to take a short detour to see Akaka Falls, probably the most famous of the Big Island's waterfalls. On the way there, we were blessed with the first clear view of Mauna Kea since we had arrived....we could even see the telescopes on the summit.
Turns out there are actually two waterfalls to see....a circular path leads you past both of them. It was good to get out and stretch my legs, and the scenery was quite rewarding. There were gorgeous plants I had never seen before, and some I had only seen in movies, like bamboo. I am guessing that rain forests elsewhere would be similar.
Akaka Falls was well worth the detour. The weather had been a bit dry for the area recently, so the volume of water wasn't that great, but it is still an impressive drop (420 feet), and it is sort of mesmerizing watching the mist glimmer in the sun. The other waterfall, Kahuna Falls, was further from the road and a bit harder to see, but still very pretty.
I got fairly tired and a bit dizzy hiking back to the Jeep, but didn't mind too much since I knew I would have to sit for quite awhile longer once we got back on the road again. We made a brief stop in Hilo so Dan could get some Starbuck's and arrived at the entrance to the park about 11am.
The information center was being renovated and had set up temporary quarters in a trailer, which was a bummer because it was packed with people. I took just a quick peek in there and then moved on to the art gallery down the road, which was much more rewarding. It was full of work by local artists....carved koa, Hawaiian quilting, paintings, and my favorite, photos of the volcano. There were signed prints available for sale by G. Brad Lewis, world famous for his shots of Kilauea over the years. I just couldn't leave without taking some home. I bought four matted prints, intending to group them together and frame them at home. Two were shots of lava flowing into the sea, one was a moonrise, and one showed a burst of lava that formed a heart shape titled "Pele's Heartbeat".
Now I was ready to do some sightseeing. Due to my respiratory problems we bypassed the first stop with its heavy sulphur fumes and went to the steam vents. It was amazing to see so much steam rising so far from the volcano's center. It was quite lovely in a way, enveloping the landscape wth a constantly moving fog. It made one wonder at the strength of the force behind such a display.
Next we pulled into the area for the observatory, which had an awesome view of Kilauea's crater. It was much larger than I expected. Even though there was no active eruption going on there, you could easily see plumes of steam rising from various parts of the crater floor. You could also get a visual account of the volcano's history by observing the types of mineral, the various layers of rock, and the places where the crater had collapsed over the years. It was a bit eerie, knowing something so powerful was in the ground beneath your feet.
As we drove further south along the road through the park, we noticed signs pointing out lava flows from various eruptions, listing the year they occurred. The flows that occurred 20 years ago or less were still pitch black and devoid of any vegetation. But the ones from about 1979 and older had the beginnings of plant life growing right out of the lava. I was amazed that the vegetation could come back so fast.
A rather amusing sight was the crossing signs with geese pictured on them. The Hawaiian state bird is a goose called the nene, and flocks of them live in the park. In recent years, tourist have made the mistake of feeding the birds so that they have become tame. As a result, the geese started approaching the road looking for handouts, and many have been run over by cars. There were many stern signs on the road warning that it was now illegal to feed the geese.
I had Dan pull over when we got to an observation area for the opposite side of Kilauea's crater. There were signs warning of sulphur fumes, but I found them to not be too bothersome as long as the wind didn't switch directions, which happened once or twice but only briefly. This end of the crater had some very striking yellow and red colorings to the rock (sulphur and iron, respectively) and a much better view of the areas that had collapsed. I was fascinated.
Around the time I returned to the Kermit-mobile, it began to rain. I hoped it would let up, but as we approached one of the highlights of the park, Desolation Trail, it started pouring. Knowing that I would never get another chance to see this area, I put on my coat, hiding my camera in its case underneath, and headed for the trail. Dan wasn't too enthused about getting soaked, so he stayed in the Jeep and waited for me. Much to my surprise, the new shoes I had purchased for the trip (I had bought them for their sturdy tread) were fully waterproof, and my feet didn't even get wet as I trudged the better part of a mile.
The beginning of the trail was very green and beautiful, and then suddenly there were all these tree trunks that had been felled by lava in the 1950's. Amidst this volcanic black carpet punctuated by dead wood, there were stunning pink flowers, small new trees and prairie-like grasses growing out of the starkness. It was the most surreal thing I have ever viewed; I would have believed some artist had staged it had I not known otherwise.
Once past the lava field, I crossed back into lush green forest with red ginger blossoms and other lovely flowers. Over the noise of the rain pelting my jacket, I thought I could faintly hear something stirring in the woods. I stopped and waited, and very far away, I saw a few nene disappearing behind some trees. And not far from them was a vivid flash of blue that I later found out was a variety of pheasant. I would have loved to have tried to take a picture of these birds, but the rain was still coming down too hard.
I continued on, knowing the longer I was out, the more tired I would get, so I proceeded to the end of the trail: an overlook into another crater. It was quite an awesome sight, and the rain died down just barely enough for me to attempt a few photos. There was already someone there with a tripod and a fancy 35mm with a telephoto lens. His wife was helping him by holding a towel over the camera to keep it dry. We chatted a bit, and I found out that they were at the park on a day trip excursion away from a cruise they were taking.
There was a side road from the main path that I could have taken had I been healthy, but I knew just going back the way I came was going to be my limit physically, so I skipped the side trail. On the way back through the lava field, the rain had slowed down to a light drizzle, so I was lucky enough to have a chance to take some photos. When I got back to the Jeep, I was amazed to discover that I had been gone for an hour.
Next we went down Chain of Craters Road. There were various extinct volcanoes this way, some with craters that looked a bit like moonscapes, and some were so old that they were totally overgrown with vegetation. Here and there were more lava flows from Kilauea. The elevation gradually dropped as we neared the ocean. One of the scenic overlooks was truly stunning: black lava alternating with greenery and then suddenly, the jagged coastline in the far distance. The closer we got to the water, the more the road twisted and turned, until we came to the coastline and a ranger station right in the road and a road block. We made a u-turn there and found a place to park along the side of the road.
I got out and headed for a lava wall that had been built along a cliff. I looked over, and what I saw took my breath away: jagged lava many feet high against which the brilliant blue Pacific surged. Some of the lava had been broken down by the fierce waves in one spot into absolutely pitch black sand, completely untouched by human hands. At the top of the lava cliffs, a lone strip of palm trees swayed in the breeze. They had been surrounded by volcanic activity and had even had their trunks and some leaves burned, but the trees were still alive somehow, a strange little oasis defiant of Pele.
Back at the ranger station, there were signs indicating that one could continue down the road on foot approximately one mile to see where an eruption in the 1980's had literally overrun the road and closed it permanently. Dan and I decided this would be worth a look, so we grabbed some bottled water and started walking. Not far from the ranger station, there were a few telescopes set out. Through one, you could see a small tree on fire due to a small eruption. You couldn't see any lava because it was too bright outside and there was too much smoke, but one of the rangers said it would probably be visible that night.
As we went further down the road, we got a better look at the partially burned strip of palm trees. At their bases were roapy strands of pahoehoe, a type of lava that dries smooth in fascinating patterns. The other type of lava, a'a, dries in thin razor sharp points and could be seen in other parts of the park. The flow that literally caused the end of the road was impressive...pahoehoe a few feet high. Some people were scrambling over it to get to some sightseeing trails, but I was too worn out to do that and returned to the Jeep.
The only way through the park on Chain of Craters Road is to go back the way you came in. Once you get back to the main road, Crater Rim Drive, it makes a loop around Kilauea. We finished up the loop we hadn't yet covered and made one more stop at the Thurston lava tube. A lava tube is made when newer lava flows through older lava and leaves a hole in the middle. This tube was large enough to walk through. The inside was so smooth that it looked manmade and polished. The finishing touch on a long but fascinating journey.
By this time it was 5pm, and we knew we'd be out very late if we didn't start heading back. It was beginning to rain again anyway. So we left the park continuing south; the highway would wind around the southern edge and back west and finally north again to where we began.
I had been utterly fascinated by the black sand at the end of Chain of Craters Road and asked Dan to make a short stop at Punaluu, where there was an accessible beach. We found it easily enough right as the rain stopped, and we took a look around. I was hypnotized by the white waves rising and falling against the pure blackness. I gathered some of the sand and put it in a sandwich bag to take home. Upon closer inspection, I realized that the sand was recently formed as the grains were huge and quite heavy.
Back on the road, shortly after we rounded the southernmost part of the island (and the southernmost point of the U.S.), the sun began to set in Kau. The rain clouds had mostly dispersed, leaving just few to make the sunset interesting. The moon began to rise simultaneously, and because of the volcanic ash in the air, it became a golden glowing sphere over the sun reflected in the expanse of the Pacific off the coast. Soon, the whole sky turned gold....I have never witnessed such a spectacle in all my life. Because we were on a highway, it was risky to just pull over where we were to view the sunset, and we weren't near any towns, so Dan found a small private dirt road and pulled off so he could safely take some pix. Over the next several minutes, the gold shifted to orange and then finally to deep red before the sun took its final bow.
Somehow in my planning of this road trip, I had failed to realize the great distance between towns on our way back, and after the sun went down, I suddenly remembered that gas stations were few and tended to close early. The Jeep got much fewer miles per gallon than our little car at home did, so it came as a bit of a shock that we didn't have enough gas to get us all the way back to Waikoloa. I kept a lookout for the nearest place to fill up, but all the ones we saw were already closed. Just when things were getting a bit panicky, I remembered the place we'd gotten batteries on Sunday and had Dan check there. We just barely made it there, and fortunately, it was still open. Whew!
About this time, exhaustion from the long day overtook me, and I couldn't wait until we got back to the condo to find something substantial to eat. So we went to the Outback Steakhouse in Kona. By this time it was 8pm, and the wait was enormous, but I simply couldn't go any further, so we agreed to wait for a table. I ordered their smallest steak and found it absolutely delicious. We pulled up to the condo about 10pm I think.
I don't remember a great deal about the rest of the evening; I'm sure I collapsed soon after getting everything ready for check-out the next morning and the flight to Honolulu.....
Comments:
Post a Comment
