Loose Ends

Posted on May 26, 2011 by Eddie

Wanted, before I disappear into the vortex, to jot down a few last words about the Hawaii.

Item: As previously noted, on my last day at the Volcano, I hiked around an area called the “Bird Park”. Did take time to make a brief field recording of the avian goings on. Way better to’ve been there in person, of course. But this snippet is kinda fun, I guess.

Item: Met a local guy on my way down the Muliwai (that’s the trail etched into the western cliff of the Waipio valley), on his way up with a horse. He’d stopped for a rest, and told me that he was getting his horse into shape, so that he soon could ride up to the top and hunt wild boars. At the time, the horse was dripping with sweat (I think horses can sweat?), while the dude was drinking a beer. Pretty damned funny.

Item: The “new” Thea Gilmore rekkid, Murphy’s Heart (actually released last year, but I somehow only discovered the fact a month or so ago) has replaced The Decemberists’ The King Is Dead as my fave album of the moment. The former rocked me sideways all the way around the Island. The latter had been in the top spot since it leaked in early December. Can’t recall an album that’s had its hooks into me for as many months in a long, long time. Probably when Robyn Hitchcock was in his glory days. If you’ve got neither, you need both. If you’ve got one, you need t’other.

Item: Never did mention, but I et a buncha cooked food right before leaving the farm. Okay, perhaps not a bunch; but certainly several ounces’ each worth of boiled Taro, steamed Breadfruit, and steamed Pumpkin. All grown right there on the farm (natch!), all unadorned with condiment or sauce or accompaniment or the like…and all straight-up delish, brah! (In  fact, it’s why I waited ’til the end of my stay: didn’t want to find myself hooked on the cooked.) Breadfruit is really great raw, too, yo.

Item: Shantaram, by Gregory David Roberts. Picked this up from the “Free Zone” of my apartment building, coupla months before my departure. I was intrigued (to say the least) by the book’s description; and figgered that, at a thousand pages (or damned near), it’d make a choice travel novel.

Turned out that the farm had all kinds of interesting books in its own library; and so I didn’t get started in on Shantaram for a few months. Then, when I did get started, I was so enthralled by it that I limited myself to one chapter per day, so as to prolong the glory. Even still, had finished the book by Christmas, and had intended since to pimp its awesomeness. Sometimes a lazy-ass will just always be a lazy-ass.

Anyhow, here, from the book’s jacket, is what the author’s all about:

Gregory David Roberts, like the hero of his novel, spent many years as a fugitive. In 1978, after his divorce, losing custody of his daughter, and being convicted of a series of robberies committed to support his heroin habit, he was jailed in an Australian maximum security prison and sentenced to nineteen years. In 1980, he escaped over the prison’s front wall, and for the next ten years eluded authorities, living in New Zealand, Asia, Africa, and Europe — but for most of that time in Bombay; where he established a free medical clinic for slum-dwellers, and worked as a counterfeiter, smuggler, gun-runner, and street soldier for the Bombay mafia.  He was finally captured in Germany and served out his sentence there and in Australia, during which time he role Shantaram.  He is now a full-time writer and lives in Bombay.

What it doesn’t say, and what you shall discover soon after delving into its pages, is that the sumbitch can flat-out fucking write. I mean, it’s one thing to’ve lived the life that he’s lived; but to write about it with such mind-boggling eloquence as he does is a wonder to behold.

Apparently the sequel’s due in a few months’ time. Should make for a great next travelin’ read. (Although, I see that John Sayles has also written a thousand-page novel. Huge fan of his movies — although it seems to me that he peaked with Lone Star, and it’s been gradually downhill ever since — so will definitely want to give this a look as well. It’s okay: I plan to be gone a while!)

Gregory David Roberts, like the hero of his novel, spent many years as a fugitive.  In 1978, after his divorce, losing custody of his daughter, and being convicted of a series of robberies committed to support his heroin habit, he was jailed in an Australian maximum security prison and sentenced to nineteen years.  In 1980, he escaped over the prison’s front wall, and for the next ten years eluded authorities, living in New Zealand, Asia, Africa, and Europe- but for most of that time in Bombay, where he established a free medical clinic for slum-dwellers, and worked as a counterfeiter, smuggler, gunrunner, and street soldier for the Bombay mafia.  He was finally captured in Germany and served out his sentence there and in Australia, during which time he role Shantaram.  He is now a full-time writer and lives in Bombay.
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And It’s A Wedding

Posted on May 23, 2011 by Eddie

The flight from Honolulu to Seattle was long and boring enough; though I had chosen a pretty cool seat location — affording a great view of the massive left engine and wing. Plus, the sunset was quite nice.

Returned to Seattle hard on the heels of — so I heard tell — a weekend of record rainfall. But my first three days here were perfectly warm and sunny. And the mountains were out in force.

My sister’s wedding, and the associated family wings-ding were great fun. Especially nice to see some family members that I’d not seen in a while. But now it’s cold, cold, cold, cold, cold. The falls are still kickin’ ass, despite the cold.

Also despite the cold is my most eagerly anticipated weekend of the year: Folklife is almost upon us!

After which, I had intended to bust a move to Montana for some sun and some big-time thunderstorms. Alas, it’s cold there, too. Frickin’ almost June, and I’m ready to get out the pyjamas and lapse into a hibernation, for god’s awful fucking sake.

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Hawaii, The Big Island: It Can’t, It Won’t, And It Don’t Stop

Posted on May 18, 2011 by Eddie

Monday, my last on the Island, was another day of stupefying wonders; courtesy, again, of the Volcano.

It all began with yet another drive up a winding one-lane mountain road – this time, the South flank of Mauna Loa. The road is fine (i.e., not bumpy) for the entirety of its length; which ends at about 6,700 feet. Here awaits those wishing to summit the trailhead for the multi-day trek.

The view from here is great, of course. But also there’s a fairly profound feeling of serenity at that height (and surround by trees, rather that lava) – the breeze and the birds are the only sounds to be heard.

Speaking of birds, next stop, a coupla thirds of the way back down the road, was Bird Park. It’s a short but sublime one-mile hike through a kipuka (a forested area, so I’ve just learned, saved from lava flows owing to its being atop a mound). The birds are out in force, as advertised; and the trees typically beautiful.

Near the bottom of the hill is an area of Tree Molds. These are created when very wet trees withstand the lava’s ire long enough for it (the lava) to begin to harden before they (the trees) give way to incineration. The result is fascinating!

By the way, don’t you wish you could write like this?

Moving right along, a kinda long-ish hike covering the immediate area surrounding the 1969-1974 eruptions at Mauna Ulu. Here’s where it all began.

The area here is just absolutely ca-razy. Must be seen to be believed. The hike continues to the top of the Puu Huluhulu, which serves as a nice viewpoint for Mauna Ulu itself. Pretty interesting times, if you wanna read up on it (the link is to the .pdf for the trail guide).

The hike also features many lava trees – similar to tree molds; but instead of forming pits, the lava forms into the shape of the trees. Way cool (just trying to use some different adjectives here – everything in the park could be described using the most magnitudinous of superlatives).

Up, now, to the Crater Rim Drive to look at the Art Gallery, visit the Museum, check in upon the Steam Vents and Sulfur Banks, and pay the last respects to the Halemaumau crater.

Thence to charge back down the Chain Of Craters Road, to the very end of it all. The road used to run straight through to Highway 130 in Kalapana; but was eaten up in the 1986 flow.

Apparently, events at times proceeded with greater rapidity than expected.

Hiking back from the lava to the Holei Sea Arch (as far as one is permitted to drive), here’s a pretty great sight: a rogue stand of Coconut palms amidst the devastation.

Also, it ain’t only Kona: the East side of the Island can present with some pretty magisterial sunsets as well.

An unexpected surprise, then. Three Nene feeding by the side of the road. The Hawaii state bird; apparently only three hundred of them are in existence.

To ice the cake with, we gots to see a full moon in one direction, and fire on the mountain in the other.

I car-camped it down at the Sea Arch; and woke up bright and early to take in the setting of the full moon and the rising of the sun. The later was largely thwarted by clouds – though certainly worth sticking around for.

No way was I going to take off without looking at some more pounding waves! See the Io (Hawaiian Hawk)? There were two or three circling around out there.

Heading back to the car, and thinking to myself that it was a bit surprising that nobody had wanted to come join me of the early morning…and no sooner had the thought entered my head that some old friends turned up, just in time for breakfast.

One final awestruck gaze at the ocean…

…and it was off to buy some Longans at the market, drop off the guidebook at the library, gas up and return the motor-car, and check in at the airport.

The flight to Honolulu was fine.

But here’s the last step in the resolution process for when things aren’t fine.

Check out dude in front, running his ass right out of the frame! What, is he blasting through a time portal or some shit?

The flight to Seattle is boarding, so away we leave from Paradise…

(Post written on Tuesday the 17th.)

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“Another Day In The Crater”

Posted on May 16, 2011 by Eddie

So spake to me a gentleman hiker as we passed each other on the floor of the Kilauea Iki crater – site of the spectacular 1959 eruption.

Saving the best for last, to-day was spent at the Volcano. First up was the four-mile Kilauea Iki trail, a trip around the crater’s brink and through the tropical rainforest surrounding the crater, then down into and across the crater’s floor, and back up again to complete the loop. Completely awesome, of course – not least owing to the birdsong in the forest.

After the hike, I had just enough time to scoot over to the visitor center and screen the forty-minute film detailing the ‘59 and ‘60 events (the latter occurring in Kapoho). Some pretty incredible footage, combined with an overly dramatic score and a pre-irony narration made this a rather enjoyable work.

After lunch, it was time to head down the Chain Of Craters Road: a nineteen mile trip from the summit to the sea, with many a spectacular lookout along the way.

Also along the way, the Devil’s Throat: a hella deep crater (for its width). The signs all warn not to get too close to the edge, as it’s not uncommon for pieces to break off and fall in. Though it was most tempting indeed to ignore the warnings; I was able to resist.

Near the bottom of the Road is the Puu Loa petroglyph site. Actually a bit underwhelming, especially as compared with the Puako site in Kohala. The carvings here are more weather-worn and less enigmatic; and it’s difficult to get a good look at ‘em, because of restrictions against leaving the boardwalk. Still, pretty neat.

At the bottom is the Holei Sea Arch, which – for my money – rivals the Spitting Cave in all-out righteousness.

Of course, what would be a stop at a Puna coastline without some pics of massive waves battering the lava cliffs? (Answer: it would be the bunk!)

On the way back up to the summit, the road to the Hilina Pali is another of those one-lane winder jobs. Pace the guidebook, which figures the road to be “not impressive”, it’s a fucking wickedly surreal wonderland of fog-enshrouded Ohia trees on a bed of rolling lava.

The lookout itself was fairly socked in with clouds, so not as impressive as might’ve been. Farmer John highly recommends this location: says it’s the only place he knows of where it’s possible to simultaneously witness the moonrise and sunset.

Lastly, it was left for some jaw-droppingly stunning (if a bit chilly) twilight Volcano viewing; before returning here to the hostel to eat up the three avocadoes purchased yesterday in Kona – my last, sob, before leaving the Island.

I’ve said many times that photos don’t do Hawaii justice. Should probably oughta stress as well that neither do words – especially those written in regard to the Volcano; a truly staggering and humbling location.

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Boots And Buttockses

Posted on May 15, 2011 by Eddie

Yep, it’s true. As the title implies, the Big Island of Hawaii has kicked my dimpled ass yet again.

The day began with a drive up to the Koloko Cloud Forest, 5,000 feet above Kona. As per usual, the vegetation was too magnificent (although the view from the top was marred by, well, clouds).

On, then, to some more outrageous snorkeling, this time at Kahaluu Beach. Even got to see a fish taking a shit; so that was nice.

Doubled back to downtown Kailua, and picked up some too-hot-to-handle Sapodillas from the Farmers’ Market (even bought some slightly unripe ones, to eat over the next few days)! After a wondrous lunch at the oceanside, it was time to bug out of Kona.

Seized, then, upon the chance to continue the Karmic wheel-rolling as I spied a hitchhiker right there in downtown; on his way, as it happened to South Point. Cool guy. Name of “Matt”, hails from Tejas. A fellow WWOOFer, and (could we get a fanfare, please?) a fellow Wonder Showzen devotee! (For those not in the know, the Showzen was the greatest teevee program in the history of teevee programming – and you can take that to the motherfucking bank, daddy-o.)

I’d been debating whether to make the jaunt down to South Point on my way around to the Volcano (it’s twelve miles from the main highway) or to try to see the lava flow. Matt believed that it’s not flowing at the moment, which corroborated what one of my co-farmers had told me a few weeks before the present date.

So, on to South Point it was. When we arrived at the parking area, there were a bunch of drunk rednecks (I dunno, maybe they were hippies – but they seemed too white and too fat to’ve been real live Punatics) jumping down this narrow chasm into an underground swimming hole. (Basically, another lava/ocean arch formation — this one quite elaborate.)

It’s a good forty or fifty feet down, I guess. Matt asked if I were going to jump. Don’t precisely recall my response; but it was words to the effect of, “See here my good man, are you outside of your cotton fucking mind?” But no sooner had the words left mine lips that he was stripping off and preparing to make the jump! Went and did it, too.

For what it’s worth, South Point is the southernmost point in the U.S. of A.. To me, it ain’t worth much. But I’ll tell you, the place rules. Here’s one pix of the awesome view.

And it’s all good and windy, so the waves are friggin’ huge. Y’all know by now what a sucker I am for the pounding-ass surf… Just remember the mantra: photographs cannot, repeat cannot, do Hawaii justice (it’s especially tricky, I’ve found, with the colour of the ocean waters).

I gave Matt his leave to hike off to the Green Sands beach, sending him along the way with a few bananas, and somewhat reluctantly agreeing to sell to him the water I’d purchased as we were leaving Kona. I’d have liked to have hiked out to Green Sands as well; but at two-and-one-quarter-miles for the each direction, I knew that it’d take too long to both make the hike and goof off at the beach. So…

Finishing it all up was the drive from South Point to the Volcano: ho-hum, only the most insanely beautiful drive EVER! Shit, this Island is too god damned much; you know what I’m saying? Here’s the best bit. Imagine, right, if the picture were in focus. Okay, think about how bad-assical that would be, then multiply it by eighty-four, and you’ll know, roughly, how bad-assical it looks in person.

In the little town of Naalehu was only the most coolest road sign EVER!

Are you fucking kidding me? Too bad, though, I’ve not yet rolled the Karma wheel ‘round far enough to have been lucky enough to actually bear witness to keiki playing the goddam see to the saw. That’ll have to wait ‘til another day.

I’m actually staying in a hostel about fifteen miles North of the Volcano. Way out in the sticks; so, no Internet access. Ergo, by the time you read this, it will already be tomorrow (or wheneva).

Sigh, received an e-mail from my sister, relating that she’d wept tears the entire flight back to Seattle after having lived on Oahu for six months. I believe I shall be doing the same come Tuesday. Big Island of Hawaii is the best.

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