When I first heard that I was not going to be working on the Northslope of Alaska for winter drilling, instead of getting bummed out on all that lost income- I bought the cheapest ticket to the Big Island of Hawaii. Madame Pele had been whispering in my dreams and waking thought. She has manifested herself once again in lava form off the SW flank of Mauna Loa- the World’s largest mountain. Something primordial transfixed me when I seen solid rock heated to liquid consistency- the Birth of the Earth.
There are several traditional legends associated with Pele in Hawaiian mythology. In addition to being recognized as the goddess of volcanoes, Pele is also known for her power, passion, jealousy, and capriciousness. She has numerous siblings, including Kāne Milohai, Kamohoaliʻi, Nāmaka and numerous sisters named Hiʻiaka, the most famous being Hiʻiakaikapoliopele (Hiʻiaka in the bosom of Pele). They are usually considered to be the offspring of Haumea. Pele’s siblings include deities of various types of wind, rain, fire, ocean wave forms, and cloud forms. Her home is believed to be the fire pit called Halemaʻumaʻu crater, at the summit caldera of Kīlauea, one of the Earth’s most active volcanoes; but her domain encompasses all volcanic activity on the Big Island of Hawaiʻi.
In one version of the story, Pele is the daughter of Kanehoalani and Haumea in the mystical land of Kuaihelani, a floating free land like Fata Morgana. Kuaihelani was in the region of Kahiki (Kukulu o Kahiki). She stays so close to her mother’s fireplace with the fire-keeper Lono-makua. Her older sister Nā-maka-o-Kahaʻi, a sea goddess, fears that Pele’s ambition would smother the home-land and drives Pele away. Kamohoali’i drives Pele south in a canoe called Honua-i-a-kea with her younger sister Hiʻiaka and with her brothers Kamohoaliʻi, Kanemilohai, Kaneapua, and arrives at the islets above Hawaii. There Kane-milo-hai is left on Mokupapapa, just a reef, to build it up in fitness for human residence. On Nihoa, 800 feet above the ocean she leaves Kane-apua after her visit to Lehua and crowning a wreath of kau-no’a. Pele feels sorry for her younger brother and picks him up again. Pele used the divining rod, Pa‘oa to pick a new home. A group of chants tells of a pursuit by Namakaokaha’i and Pele is torn apart. Her bones, KaiwioPele form a hill on Kahikinui, while her spirit escaped to the island of Hawaiʻi.:157 (Pele & Hi’iaka A myth from Hawaii by Nathaniel B. Emerson)
In another version, Pele comes from a land said to be “close to the clouds,” with parents Kane-hoa-lani and Ka-hina-liʻi, and brothers Ka-moho-aliʻi and Kahuila-o-ka-lani. From her husband Wahieloa (also called Wahialoa) she has a daughter Laka and a son Menehune. Pele-kumu-honua entices her husband and Pele travels in search of him. The sea pours from her head over the land of Kanaloa (perhaps the island now known as Kahoʻolawe) and her brothers say:
O the sea, the great sea!
Forth bursts the sea:
Behold, it bursts on Kanaloa!
Pele and Poliʻahu
Pele was considered to be a rival of the Hawaiian goddess of snow, Poliʻahu, and her sisters Lilinoe (a goddess of fine rain), Waiau (goddess of Lake Waiau), and Kahoupokane (a kapa maker whose kapa making activities create thunder, rain, and lightning). All except Kahoupokane reside on Mauna Kea. The kapa maker lives on Hualalai.
One myth tells that Poliʻahu had come from Mauna Kea with her friends to attend sled races down the grassy hills south of Hamakua. Pele came disguised as a beautiful stranger and was greeted by Poliʻahu. However, Pele became jealously enraged at the goddess of Mauna Kea. She opened the subterranean caverns of Mauna Kea and threw fire from them towards Poliʻahu, with the snow goddess fleeing towards the summit. Poliʻahu was finally able to grab her now-burning snow mantle and throw it over the mountain. Earthquakes shook the island as the snow mantle unfolded until it reached the fire fountains, chilling and hardening the lava. The rivers of lava were driven back to Mauna Loa and Kīlauea. Later battles also led to the defeat of Pele and confirmed the supremacy of the snow goddesses in the northern portion of the island and of Pele in the southern portion.
Pele belief continued after the old religion was officially abolished in 1819. In the summer of 1823 English missionary William Ellis toured the island to determine locations for mission stations.:236 After a long journey to the volcano Kīlauea with little food, Ellis eagerly ate the wild berries he found growing there.:128 The berries of the ʻōhelo (Vaccinium reticulatum) plant were considered sacred to Pele. Traditionally prayers and offerings to Pele were always made before eating the berries. The volcano crater was an active lava lake, which the natives feared was a sign that Pele was not pleased with the violation.:143 Although wood carvings and thatched temples were easily destroyed, the volcano was a natural monument to the goddess.
In December 1824 the High Chiefess Kapiʻolani descended into the Halemaʻumaʻu crater after reciting a Christian prayer instead of the traditional one to Pele. She was not killed as predicted, and this story was often told by missionaries to show the superiority of their faith.
I am an Aries ruled by Mars with Fire as our element, I had no choice in the matter I had to make a pilgrimage to the place where She dwells.
Luckily there are a few gals from Alaska here on the island I know so I have a hook up on the goings on here. I spent my first week here on island house sitting for one I had once gave my Arycterrex Climbing jacket to when she was camping in the rain up in Girdwood. It didn’t fit me anymore since I passed out next to a bonfire at the Brown Bear Saloon White Trash Party and it melted to my backside since no one had the decency to roll me over when I was passed out. No good deed goes undone my Aunty would say. I spent that time acclimating to the heat of the Kona side and working on my suntan, butt ass naked- all day -everyday. My old leatherlike skin absorbs the Coconut Kona Coffee infused darkening oil. I wasn’t going out in public this white. The Kona side is the dry side of the Big Island and the Sunsets simply stunning each day better than the last.
I am also reading the famous guide: “Hawaii Big Island Revealed” which is a great book to have on the islands. They have a book for every one & it is full of maps that I can stare at like Ms. March Playboy 1997. I read in this book, that where I was at- roughly 120,000 years ago, a huge chunk of the Coast from about mile marker 109 to just north of the old fishing village of Miloili”i, broke off and slid into the depths of the Pacific Ocean, creating Kealakekua Bay and the ensuing steep hills south of Honounau. The resulting Tsunami was so huge that it washed completely over the 1,427-foot-high island of Kawo”olawe, continued on and washed almost completely over the 3,370-foothigh island of Lana”i where it deposited huge chunks of coral over a thousand feet up the mountain. Holy Shit. Sounds like Pele and her Sister Nā-maka-o-Kahaʻi were still going at it.
Now that I have the color of old cardboard I am more confident in my ability to blend in with da’ locals. My buudy gave me a ride to the bustop where I was told i missed the one that goes over the saddle in between Mauna Kea and Mauna Loa. So I started walking south towards where I came from then started hitchiking in front of a old store front in Honounau. My backpack has some polypro underwear, raincoat, 2 pairs of socks, 1 tank top, 1 nice tshirt- sort of,
1 pr. breathable shorts, 1 pr, Camo cargo’s, my trusty hammock with bug net/rainfly so I don’t have to carry heavy ass tent with poles. Assortment of water bottles, hygiene and stupid shit.
|In old Hawai’i, if you had broken a law, the penalty was death. Perhaps you had entered into an area that was reserved for only the chiefs, or had eaten forbidden foods. Laws, or kapu, governed every aspect of Hawaiian society. The penalty for breaking these laws was certain death. Your only option for survival is to elude your pursuers and reach the nearest pu’uhonua, or place of refuge.As you enter, the great wall rises up before you marking the boundaries between the royal grounds and the sanctuary. Many ki’i (carved wooden images) surround the Hale o Keawe temple, housing the bones of the chiefs that infuse the area with their power or mana. If you reached this sacred place, you would be saved.|
Death of Keōua KuahuulaKamehameha moved against the district of Puna in 1790 deposing Chief Keawemaʻuhili. Keōua Kūʻahuʻula, exiled to his home in Kaʻū, took advantage of Kamehameha’s absence and led an uprising. When Kamehameha returned with his army to put down the rebellion, Keōua fled past the Kīlauea volcano, which erupted and killed nearly a third of his warriors with its poisonous gas.When the Puʻukoholā Heiau was completed in 1791, Kamehameha invited Keōua to meet with him. Keōua may have been dispirited by his recent losses. He may have mutilated himself before landing so as to render himself an inappropriate sacrificial victim. As he stepped on shore, one of Kamehameha’s chiefs threw a spear at him. By some accounts he dodged it, but was then cut down by musket fire. Caught by surprise, Keōua’s bodyguards were killed. With Keōua dead, and his supporters captured or slain, Kamehameha became King of Hawaiʻi island.
ok, so I get picked up from this Jerry Garcia looking dude, has gnarled old hands with skin like old saddle leather, he is driving an old Datsun small pickup from the early 80’s and its full of Coconuts.
“How faw you go?!’ He spat.
“Ho! I go Volcano, yeah?” I tried my best pidgen spoke by locals. he eyed me suspiciously but my tan fooled him and I was like a Chameleon when he let me in his ride. he then took me way down da” road and at first did not want to talk much but then he talk story of the times when the lava flowed. he knew the decades which they took place and taught me many things before he dropped me off to turn off of Miloli”i. I sat there at dat’ place of joining which for me was like Robert Johnson at the Crossroads. I smoked some herb i had and proceeded to get my next hitch.
Now usually when I see the all to recognizable rental cars such as a convertible mustang or Jeep, I don’t even waste my time trying to stick my thumb out as the inhabitants scared looks of afore mentioned vehicle,
sais it all, “DONT you dare stop Wilber,…he’s a menace”,
I can read the fear in their eyes & wonder how it would be to live in such a state of mind- prisoner of their ignorance. So i have to admit that i was a bit surprised when that white Mustang pulled off up ahead. I grabbed my backpack and ran up to two Old Dudes who said jump in over the doors like Dukes of Hazard. I was stoked and they were daring enough to take a vagabond like me into their mobile sanctuary, so I threw in my backpack & jumped in as they burned out. So their story was that they had four hours to leave the wives behind on the cruise ship while they rented out the Pony car in wild youthful abandon to visit South Point. The furthest southern point in all of the United States of America.
“Well, Hell” I thought,…… I wanna go- like a true wanna-be..
So it was like Jack Nicholson and Robert Duval were my own personal guides down to that windy alcove. The driver Bob had no problem putting the hammer down on that lil” stallion. I had to catch William’s hairpiece with my cat like reflexes when it flew off his chrome dome. Made me think of the horrors my fellow country men have to endure with Chancellor Trump in office now. I stuffed it back to William like an old pigskin deep and tight and he slapped it back on his head backwards, I think on purpose because he felt young, alive and exuberant and didn’t give a fuck.
Well we got down to within 8 miles of the very furthest southern tip of the whole United States of America only to find out that since we didn’t have four wheel drive we would have to jump in da’ back of dis’ local bruhdas truck who take us down with 50 odder fuckas at $25 a Pop. Ho! WTF? We skidded out of there like dem’ good old Duke boys and they dropped me off- once again at a crossroads in between South Point and BumFucking Egypt. It started to rain lightly and I picked the best Tangelo I ever tasted not really caring about where, what or why. I could feel the warmth of the tropical presence the light sprinkle of rain and a sense of freedom I can only get on the road with no direction or home. So this young blonde couple and huge German Shepard stop and I crawl in with big doofis who I immediately share a bond with. The dog owners thought he was going to wig out but he just didn’t know what to think when I hugged him like Valcor. i trust animals more than people, always have. Well them and kids, because they don’t Bullshit you, they let you know what their feeling.
Ended up these two were from Wasiila Alaska! Holy Shit do we all just go to Hawaii in the winter I thought? I told them I am he who walks the Wood of Gird and they broke out some weed and a nice bottle of PBR- I could feel something pulling me, Ebb & Flow,……. and of course, She knew I was near.
The couple dropped me off near Sea Mountain where I got picked up by a local who thought I was a local due to my chameleon like skills. But as soon as I got in and started talking my ruse was up and he eyed me with suspicion.
” You have wife? He asked.
“No.” I reply.
” You no have kiki’s?
Then he asked why- and it took me a minute to come up with a answer,
” I guess I never settled down”.
Then I asked the same of him and he also had no family.
He answered because he was gay, then there was this awkward silence until I said
“Don’t let that stop you, I’m sure some kid needs an uncle or aunty…….”
He looked at me quizzically and laughed, then he talked story about his family who have lived here for a very long time.
As we drove up in elevation towards what is now known as the Volcanoes National Park, the topography becomes predominated with successive lava flows. Some are somewhat newer and devoid of most life while some older flows have been covered with different plants. Always it will be the Ohia Tree to take a foothold on this desolate landscape.
The Lehua Blossom on the Ohia Tree
When you are in Hawaii, you may notice a unique tree with twisted looking branches and a bright red bloom. That’s the ohia tree. It’s native to Hawaii and can be found on all the islands.
I like to think of this tree as being the little train that could of the tree family. The reason being is it is one of the first trees to grow in lava. What determination! In fact when you visit Hawaii Volcanoes National Park on the Big Island, you’ll probably notice ohia bushes and ferns providing the first dots of vegetation in a field of lava.
There’s an interesting Hawaiian legend tied to the ohia tree and its flower, the lehua blossom. As you might expect, the legend is tied to the volcano goddess, Pele. The legend says that one day Pele met a handsome warrior named Ohia and she asked him to marry her. The problem was Ohia had already pledged his love to Lehua. Pele was furious when Ohia turned down her marriage proposal, so she turned Ohia into a twisted tree. Lehua was heartbroken, of course. The gods took pity on Lehua and decided it was an injustice to have Ohia and Lehua separated. So, they turned Lehua into a flower on the Ohia tree so that the two lovers would be forever joined together. Hell hath no fury as a woman scorned.
Unfortunately a tree fungus has killed hundreds of thousands of Hawaii’s iconic and native ohia lehua trees. Researchers say these trees are critical not only to the island’s water supply, but also to endangered native birds and cultural traditions like hula.
This disease — rapid ohia death (ROD) — was first detected in 2014 in the forests of Puna. Since last year alone, the fungus has affected 50 percent of the ohia trees across 6,000 acres of forest, and continues to rapidly spread. Although it has only been documented in Big Island forests, the Hawaii Department of Land and Natural Resources (DLNR) has warned ROD could potentially spread across the state.
“ROD is caused by a fungus called Ceratocystis fimbriata. This disease is new to Hawaii and the strain of fungus infecting ohia, has never been described before,” Dr. J.B. Friday, of the University of Hawaii Cooperative Extension Service, said in a news release. “While apparently only impacting Big Island forests currently, this has the potential of spreading statewide, so it’s critically important we do everything to stop it.”
Once infected with this fungal disease, a mature tree can die within two weeks, experts say. To help minimize the spread of the fungus, state and federal agencies have partnered to create potential treatments.
“Ohia trees cover more than one million acres statewide and ohia is widely considered the most important forest tree in Hawaii,” Chair Suzanne Case of the states DLNR added in the release. “They are so important for protecting our forest watersheds that it’s necessary our approach to combating this disease involves the highest levels of government and includes non-government agencies and private partners that can provide additional resources and expertise.”
Ohia trees are vital to local ecosystems because they replenish the earth’s water supply and act as a food source for endangered birds. Furthermore, the Hawaiian culture relies heavily on the trees, using their wood to make weapons, hula instruments, homes and (in the past) temples in ancient Hawaii.
The light rain had turned into torrential downpour when I was dropped off at the park entrance. I was not deterred and went in using mu National Parks pass I bought last year, this being my 10th National Park visit in a 9 month period. My plan was to hike around the Halemaʻumaʻu crater Kīlauea for a few days and leave a offering to the fiery Goddess of my dreams. I was informed though by a very pretty young park ranger with white hair that the trails were all closed to the public do to recent activity which can emit Sulphor Dioxide into the atmosphere causing a certain health risk. I could not even see her in fiery form as the lava lake was bubbling up but was blanketed in a dense cloud cover. I went to the Lava house and contemplated walking 3 miles to the campground but it was not letting up anytime soon and seemed to be building wind strength. I remember a gal I knew from Alaska told me to call if I was around that area and She would love to see me again. so I left her a text and she responded immediately.
Seems befitting that I would call on a gal I knew from a place called Crow Creek, Alaska, the valley of King Boulette mushrooms I forage for in Autumn.. She had relocated some 10 years earlier to the Big Island to take up the laid back lifestyle only a few have been fortunate enough to enjoy. I had helped her on the cabin she built back up in Alaska so she always extended her hospitality towards me.
I had my heart set on hiking around the volcano and camping up to 10 days maximum for FREE at Namakani Paio Campground- yet was not looking forward to sleeping in sideways rain in a hammock. So I broke down and called her. She said she would be able to pick me up within a hour, so I went to the Volcano House lodge that was built in 1847 out of the abundant material.
COCONUT HIWA PORTER
A robust dark ale with hand-toasted coconut & hints of mocha that I cannot say enough about. I pulled up a bamboo chair sporting a frothy mustache and stared off from the Kilauea Crater lookout on the empty atrium with a dense fog before me. I knew She was out there, Drifting off in a mist of legends and lore- imagining Her in the bubbling molten lava lake below unharmed without the care of Mortals.
My rescuer came into the parking lot in a beat up SUV and we were soon driving through the lunar like landscape towards Pahoa- bullshitting like we had just seen each other yesterday. It would be safe to say I was somewhat relieved not to be walking to the campground in what had become a downpour. I spent the next few weeks helping her out at what she called the Kolea farm, named after a familiar friend of mine from over 3,500 miles to the tundra landscape of the Northslope, Alaska.
The Kolea (Pacific Golden Plover) leads a double life. From May to August it nests and raises its young on Alaska’s chilly subarctic tundra. Come winter, just as its plumage turns from black and white to gold and brown
| A kolea displays full|
breeding plumage, in
preparation for its
return to Alaska.
In 1773, Captain James Cook sailed the waters off Tahiti during his second expedition. His mission: to find the “Great Southern Continent” purported to lie somewhere between Australia and New Zealand. Near Matavai Bay, naturalists aboard the H.M.S. Resolution noticed a five-ounce, spindly legged shorebird and dutifully recorded what seemed, at first, a simple species of plover. But this was no ordinary bird. The Englishmen took a special interest after the Tahitians told them that the birds did not nest in the islands but migrated away each spring. Might these birds, the Englishmen wondered, be breeding on the elusive continent they sought?
Five years later, having understandably failed to find the non-existent Great Southern Continent, Cook was on his third expedition, now seeking the equally elusive Northwest Passage. In the North Pacific and Bering Sea, his crew spotted a very similar bird, which this time seemed to be migrating south. Again, Cook wondered if the birds knew something about geography that he didn’t: “Does this not indicate,” he wrote, “that there must be land to the north where these birds retired in the proper season to breed?” Indeed so, but Cook might have been astonished to learn that the birds he’d observed in Tahiti and those he saw in the North Pacific half a decade later were not just, as he correctly deduced, the same species. They may well have been the very same birds. Indeed, these creatures—known in Hawaii as the kolea—knew exactly where the land was. And to find it, they flew all the way from the Arctic to the South Pacific—and back—every year.
The tiny kolea, known to the world outside Hawaii as the Pacific golden plover, are among the world’s mightiest long-distance flyers. They arrive in Hawaii in the early fall and stay through the end of April, during which time you can find them hanging around almost any large open space: stalking the lawn at Kapiolani Park; stabbing for beetles at Punchbowl; crouching in Kailua-Kona’s a’a lava fields; and, perhaps most frustratingly, fixed immovably on the green directly between you and your birdie putt. Though classified as shorebirds, the hardy and adaptable kolea have been found far from the sea, even in the crater of Haleakalä on Maui, where temperatures frequently drop into the teens at night. The bird’s Hawaiian name, kolea, a phonetic imitation of its keening flight call, has come to mean “one who takes and leaves.” Ai no ke kolea a momona hoi i Kahiki! goes one Hawaiian proverb: The kolea eats until he is fat, and then returns to the land from which he came.
Kolea spend each summer on the treeless tundra of western Alaska; in late August, they head south. Migrating kolea are believed to cruise at altitudes of up to 20,000 feet and may average fifty miles per hour. But unlike many birds capable of trans-oceanic migrations, kolea can neither soar nor glide. And in what seems an unfortunate quality for a shorebird, kolea also can’t swim. When birds flying from western Alaska to Hawaii finally reach our shores, they will have continuously beat their wings twice per second for about fifty hours over some 2,500 miles of open ocean—one of the most grueling non-stop migrations in the avian world.
During my time at the Kolea Farm I planted Coconut, Tea Leave, Pineapple and an assortment of air plants throughout her property. She would usually start the day with a drink of the Tropical Nature, tend to the garden then load up her water bottles for the plants. Then we would go to
Ahalanui Beach with its miles of sugar-fine white sand and surf lapping at your feet. This is a man-made thermal lagoon that was constructed with federal funds after lava flows from Kilauea, destroyed the famous Kalapana black sand beaches on this part of the coast in the 1990s.
It is right on the ocean but separated from the ocean waves by a low wall made from lava rock. The cooling waves do wash over the wall, which is what keeps the water, fed by natural springs that are thermally heated by the volcano, at a balmy temperature of about 90 degrees.
An assortment of Pavillionaires were always here. Those who hang out near the pavilions to hustle money from tourist like weaved palm fronds into some kind of basket or hat, offer Coconuts for purchase and the ever present market for illicit drugs which I never took part in……… it was here though where I met a very beautiful woman. While soaking it up in the lagoon I seen a gal walking down the pathway that had an Amazonian physique. She had obviously been in some kind of body building competition at one point and even though somewhat more muscular than I usually like them….., lets just say “She definitely had it going on”. It just so happened that my Kolea Sista knew her friend and soon we were all standing in the soothing chest deep waters.
“May I see your tattoo on your chest?” She asked
I then displayed the Tribal Sun design I have on my
‘pumped up’ left pectoral from playing squirt ducky with my hands. She then went on to say that she had a very similar one on her ass which I then inquired to inspect. She turned around in the water tilting up on one leg as I donned my snorkel for optimum clarity, and there it was on that gorgeous example of a full bodied Ass the very representation of Sola. It was like a Matrix moment.
We hang out and made plans to meet up later at a Uncle Roberts Night Market since it was Wednesday.
A legend in these parts, Uncle Robert Keli’iho‘omalu is the patriarch of a large family who live on a four-acre compound literally at the end of the road: You simply follow the Kapoho-Kalapana Road, locally referred to as the Red Road for the original red cinder pavement (now asphalt) until you can go no further. From the hundreds of cars parked along the road, you’ll know when you get close. As Uncle Robert says, “Where the road ends, the aloha begins.”
Uncle Robert’s credo
Robert, now in his mid 70s, grew up here in a family raising pigs and growing taro. He and his wife raised 11 children here, many of whom stayed and had children of their own. I don’t know how many houses are in the compound, but quite a few. In 1990, the lava flow from Kīlauea that ended up destroying the village of Kalapana and permanently altering the shoreline somehow spared his family’s property. To give thanks, the family began to open up its property to the community.
What started out as Uncle Robert and his family playing music for the community slowly expanded into the spectacle we experienced: dozens of vendors, food booths, lively entertainment from a fantastic band, and a crowd of many hundreds from all races and walks of life, including a large number of kamaʻaina (Hawaiian residents).
Before we started to get loose on the dance floor we decided to rent out some bicycles and go watch the Sunset near the recent lava tube that was the only place in the world where molten lava was was spewing directly into the Ocean.
As the Sun went down the red and orange glow of the Lava seemed to intertwine with the steam colors and the deep currents of the Ocean, it would seem that Pele and her Sister were still at odds.
Punatic in Pahoa
Flow Festival is Puna, Hawaii’s premiere music, cultural and sustainability festival.
The festival was originally inspired in 2014 when the Big Island’s active lava flow changed directions and threatened to cut off lower Puna from the rest of the island.
The intention remains to enhance the sustainability and unity of our community and warmly welcomes all ages, shapes, sizes, creeds, colors…
We focus on conscious music, progressive thinking speakers, sustainable & holistic life practices and equality among the human race.
We honor Hawaii for its richness in culture and geography. We dedicate the festival to the Hawaiian Lava Goddess, Pele.
So being limited on funds I decided to volunteer to work Security there which was being held not to far from the Kolea Farm. It was a musical affair leaning towards all that hippy shit, a perfect venue to try and get rid of a bunch of herbal candies we had made earlier in the week. When I got there early in the day I met up with a hot ass gal I met at a Kawa Bar in Pahoa & a bunch of hippies who were also on this journey with me. We were told to go enjoy the music and come back to work later, which I did 3 days……. later, Me without my shirt or sandals utterly dehydrated and the girls without their tops. Apparently I had met up with two other fellow Kolea brethren. A gal I knew from Girdwood and an old college buddy from Juneau. I guess we were dancing like some Pagans which had a gyratating tendency on anything near, real or imagined ie. conjured……. I smelled of god damn patchouli & essence of Myr just noticing the sarong, draped over my head & shoulders like the Lost Messiah, I had to reach the Ocean and cleanse myself of this godforsaken reek.
For the next few days were of tending to plants, snorkeling, swimming, sunbathing & relaxing. We would barbeque one night that would alter everything. It would seem that after a night of partying at the beach the person with the keys did not want to
let anyone else drive, we soon found ourselves flying off the highway and into a dark field. We tried to get her to leave the scene but she was so fucked up thinking she could get out of the swamp and soon the Police showed up and it was obvious she was impaired.
As cops drove away with her in the back, I found myself once again on a dark lonely road where I feel most at ease regardless of the situation. I needed to get into the wild places and headed North.
I planned on hitchhiking to remote valleys where King Kamehameha was hidden as a child to one day become the Chief of all the Hawaiian Islands.
I once read in the journals I scoured about this island that there was a old trail that connected Pololu to Waimanu but had since been destroyed by hurricane landslides & neglect. I knew this was going to be an epic safari and hitchhiked to the surplus store in Hilo.
Overview: Pololū means long spear, and carves a long cleave on the northern side of Kohala Mountain. This magnificent wild valley is at the head of the Kohala Coast, apparently the oldest part of the island with deeply in-cut valleys towering over picturesque beaches. Most people only drive to the end of Hwy. 270 and gawk at the beauty of the rugged northern Kohala coastline from the Pololū Overlook. It’s a shame that they don’t realize that hiking one or two switch-backs down toward Pololū Beach provides a much better photo vantage. And of course, hiking down to the valley floor and over to the next valley provides a sublime adventure in this special place.
Tune in next time, same Pan channel-same Pan time-
WTF?! Cliffhanger Music (insert here)
Pololu to Hanokane Nui/Iki Trek