I mount the horse, feeling somewhat like getting on the back of a motorcycle. There is one major difference: this is a living, breathing, mind-of-its own animal. Logically, I understand that these animals are tame and well-trained.
I heave myself up and over, straddling this large animal.
The wrangler instructs me to rest my foot on the shoulder of this beast as she adjusts the stirrups. Once everything is set, it is a sweet kissing sound that gets the horse, Maylee, to move. I begin to realize this mare is truly a gentle giant, and I begin to trust her.
We set off into the fields of Kohala Mountain. Breath-taking views of sprawling grasslands that gradually slope all the way down to the ocean. Maylee is easy to guide and I relax into the saddle, enjoying the views.
The wind sends the tall grass sideways and rushes over my cheeks. I look over to my mom. I have heard her talk about wanting to ride horses for my entire life, and today I am watching her dream come true. The pure bliss that washes over her face is priceless and it is a honor to be in its presence.
There is a long straight away, and as I ever so gently squeeze Maylee, she goes off trotting. It is a quicker pace and I giggle with delight. Gaining more trust and enthusiasm for this ride, we ride even faster, breaking into a canter. Maylee seems to love it as much as I do as she bounds down the trail. It is exhilarating. As the ride winds down I realize I am loving it far more than I imagined I would. It just goes to show, once again, you never know until you try.
I have long been awaiting a visit to Volcanoes National Park. While family is visiting, there are no excuses, we are going. The park services are actually waiving admission fees as we arrive. This gives people the opportunity to experience more wide open spaces to enjoy nature and remain socially (physically) distant. This appears to work at Volcanoes National Park. As we make our way through the park it is easy to keep distance from others, enjoying the fresh air and fresh sights.
The first stop brought us to the historic hotel. Through wide windows you could take in the panoramic view of the Kilauea Caldera. It is smoldering with steam vents as the sky above casts dark ominous clouds.
Next, we make our way to Thurston Lava Tube which stretches 600 feet long and reaching up to 20 feet tall. Soft yellow light is cast from fixtures that allow visitors to easily walk through a tunnel made from flowing lava years ago. We are stepping through a moment in history that is difficult to fully comprehend. I marvel at the fact that this was once full of flowing lava.
As we emerge, we are surrounded by rainforest. Gigantic ferns line the path, enmeshed in thick vegetation that looks prehistoric.
Our walk continues as we descend deeper into Kilauea. Passing through tropical rainforest and arriving on the floor of the caldera, it is as if we have landed on another planet.
The ground beneath our feet is smooth and hard. There is no soil, only solid lava. Somehow sparse flowers grow from cracks in the hardened earth. It seems miraculous, a true demonstration of strength and resiliency. They bring vibrancy and life to an otherwise desolate landscape.
More steam vents are seen releasing heat from the earth’s core. Looking up there are sheer cliffs that drop to the caldera’s floor.
Elegant white birds fly gracefully overhead. Their tails are elongated and slender. We gaze in wonder at the beauty of the these tropicbirds.
Our hike comes to a close as we ascend the far side of the caldera and loop back to the parking lot. We climb back into the jeep and drive onward down the road.
Suddenly, the rain hits hard. Chris assures us that it could very well be sunny down by the water. Zig zagging through black lava fields, the road takes sharp turns as it steeply winds down the side of the volcano. Low and behold, the rain clears as the vast ocean comes into view. The lava ends abruptly at the ocean’s edge and gives way to blue water as far as the eye can see.
Where the road ends, we park and walk a short distance to catch a glimpse of a sea arch, taking a moment to let the views soak in.
It is truly spectacular.
As the day ends, we find ourselves exhausted from an epic day of hiking and sightseeing. We make the journey home feeling complete.
The start of the COVID-19 pandemic taking full swing, everything begins to shut down and close. We are taking it seriously, keeping 6 ft distance from everyone, washing our hands several times throughout the day, and avoiding touching anything. Our adventures are completely outdoors, in open areas free from crowds.
“They can’t close the outdoors” we said, assured it would be safe. We soon learn that all of the state parks are now closed. This includes the waterfalls and beaches we were planning on visiting to for our next excursion. We pass by the parking lot of Rainbow falls which is not only gated off, but manned by armed guards. We realize they mean business, this is serious.
My mom has made it clear that she would really love to see a botanical garden, to take pictures of tropical flowers. She has also expressed her motivation in coming is to see her daughter before she dies. No one has argued with her on that.
After a quick google search, my partner comes up with the idea of visiting Umauma Falls. He calls and confirms that they are open, and have tropical gardens to tour on foot.
We take off and embark on exploring a new place we have never seen- the adventure begins!
This turns out to be a spectacular place.
There is a three tier waterfall cascading into a lush valley, the far bank of which is lined with African Tulip trees that bloom with bright red flowers.
Not a single person is seen as we meander through the Peace Garden which is abundant in tropical plants including Jade flowers, Anthurium, Hibiscus, and Ohia Lehua (just to name a few). Guava and banana plants provide sweet fruits, and we are encouraged to pick whatever we would like.
As this remarkable adventure comes to a close, I realize what a beautiful thing it is to let go of plans and open to new possibilities that may have gone unseen.
Embarking on a boat, cruising the Pacific ocean in search of whales with great friends is nothing short of an exceptional adventure.
There is a plethora of food and drink. Attentive waitstaff cater to your every need.
When asked “Can I get you anything? “by one of these men, my friend jokingly says “a backrub would be nice”. He then proceeds to give her one, all in good fun and with laughter. Deep belly laughs ensure alongside dance parties and goofing around the entire time. Everyone is kind and jovial.
There are two whale sightings. One majestic tail rises out of the ocean before slowly and gracefully descending into the unknown depths of the ocean. Another sends a mighty spout of ocean spray clear into the air.
The sunset is a spectacular array of vibrant colors painted across the sky. As darkness falls, we make our way back to shore and return home. Another adventure in the books.
It is a Friday night and the community center is packed with people. They are lively and kind, warm and welcoming- with great enthusiasm for Hawaiian culture.
Many people gather with one overarching goal: to support the local Hula school.
The traditional Luau dinner is unveiled as a line of buffet trays are opened and ready to be served. The feast begins.
There is poi, lomi-lomi salmon, Kalua pork with cabbage, squid, rice noodles with sauce and rice. Each dish is unique and absolutely delicious. The squid dish is a quick favorite of mine. It is a smooth, creamy blend of tastes that mixes the sweetness of coconut with richness as of taro leaves, reminiscent of spinach. For dessert the delectable coconut pudding, Haupia.
We effortlessly dance to the live music as it fills the air with the tropical sounds of laid back Hawaiian tunes played on guitar and ukulele.
Ferns and crab claw flowers are used as decor, bringing a vibrant aliveness to the room.
As dinner concludes, the show begins. The children are truly inspiring as they chant (Oli) and dance hula. Led by their Kumu (teacher), who accompanies the hula with a single gourd drum. There are many different dances with colorful garb. One group performs in ti leave skirts. Another uses split bamboo sticks with a rhythmic addition to their dance. Each piece of Hula is strong, graceful, and expressive. It is beautifully authentic and moving.
Later in the show, there is a intergenerational piece in which a mother and grandmother become welcome participants. These lovely women have also been in the school preparing for months. It is touching to witness the willingness of the troupe to share the experience of these cultural practices.
These young girls are reaching for big goals, with the aims to travel to Japan to share their culture with Japanese school children.
The passion and love of Hula radiates from the performers, filling the entire room. It is contagious heartwarming, and awe-inspiring.
Is there something you have always wanted to do, but haven’t?
What held you back?
For years I wanted to try my hand as a solo performer. I can name at least 1,000 excuses as to why I had never played out- being too busy, not being good enough, not being given the opportunity, and on and on. What every single excuse comes down to is fear. Fear of judgement, criticism and failure.
Finally, I decide to push past this. One afternoon while out with my partner, I make the claim that I will start performing in public, despite having any actual gigs to speak of.
On the way home, after making this bold declaration, I stop in at the local Kava Kafe for some delicious Awa and take in some live music. Sitting at the bar, I begin talking to a lovely, down to earth woman, who turns out to be the owner. As we talk I ask who will be playing in the following weeks. She says that nothing is booked yet, and casually asks “Do you know any musicians?”
I hesitate, my instinct is to mutter “no” and shuffle away, but I know that would be untrue. Instead, I meekly say that I play music. She generously offers me the chance to play the following week, 5-8 pm. I feel the universe is aligning in this moment, it seems too good to be true.
I tune into the adventure mindset; thinking of this as an exciting opportunity that brings my dreams and realities closer together, completely changes the experience from fear based to excitement driven. Most of my life I have been a performer in different settings, but it has always come with bouts of anxiety. Today is different.
I feel well practiced, and cultivate compassion for myself. Confident that in the least, if I do fall flat on my face, I will get back up. If I do mess up songs, I will continue on without picking up the proverbial bat and beating myself up over it.
On the night of the gig, I arrive early to set up on the back deck overlooking the main street of Hawi. This is a quaint and colorful little town that is quiet and calm. Locals begin to come in and greet me with a smile. The start is smooth and easy. Everything is falling into place. The bartender serves me a drink of Awa in a coconut shell, complete with a rim dipped in honey and coconut.
To my great relief, friends come to see my set. They are attentive and supportive as they sing and share Aloha.. The entire crowd belts out the words to classics like “What’s Up” by 4 Non Blondes, and “I Can See Clearly Now The Rain Is Gone”. This fills my heart, quiets my fears, and inspires my performance.
Though playing outside, I even hear applause from inside, reminding me that it is still being heard and appreciated.
Mistakes are made, but I keep playing anyway, including original music. Playing these songs is like playing a piece of my heart. It touches on past and present relationships. It shares intimate parts of me, and connects with others who are listening.
Days later, I am reflecting on the experience, feeling a mix of emotions. Grateful that I took a leap into something new and challenging, tortured by some of my foolish mistakes, and embarrassed that despite my best efforts- nerves still got the best of me.
Ready to try again, I go back to one of my biggest mistakes. Totally blotching the words and chords to “Soulshine”. I record it in on my phone in the days following the show and share it on Facebook. It is a practice in getting back up after falling down. I am already moving forward. This is where growth and strength is cultivated.
This is not the only adventure in solo performing, but the first. As I continue to gain experience, I am evermore stretching my abilities and comfort zones.
The love and generosity of family blows me away, all the way to the magical island of Oahu.
As the first day unfolds, we find ourselves at a nearly empty beach. White sand and palm trees are set with a backdrop of lush green mountains that pour into the ocean. As we set down our things, a turtle comes on shore to greet us.
A pineapple from the local grocery store proves to be hands down, the most juicy and delicious fruit I have ever tasted. The others simply fall flat in comparison.
The next day, we drive north to where the road ends. Planning on walking only a short while, we embark on a walk along the cliffside. Below the ocean brings tidal waterfalls, whales, and spinner dolphins that leap out of the water. At each sighting, our excitement level rises and we are drawn further down the trail. We are continually exposed to full sun, with little water. We begin to grow tired, and contemplate turning around. We meet a ranger who tells us of a protected area at the end of the trail where Albatross are nesting with their young and monk seal can be seen. She generously fills out water bottles from her reserve. Suddenly, another surge of energy powers through us and we continue to onwards, now more determined to reach the end. We are a mixed group of hikers with varying ages and abilities. We stop periodically to discuss how much further to proceed, prepared to turn around at any moment.
Slowly we continue, until we stop at the sound of a mighty roar is heard that sounds animalistic. A blow hole below is spewing a mist of ocean spray, built up from pressure below the thick volcanic rock. This is the source of these outrageous moaning sounds. Again we are invigorated and inspired to continue. The majestic sights of the ocean, brimming with turquoise water that rush under volcanic sea arches continue to the west as we make our way down the coast.
To my great delight and surprise, we arrive at the northern point. Just before the preserve the trail proves to be challenging with a steep ascent up and over a washed out area.
We follow the trail to the northern point of the island where giant Albatross soar above us and nest below with their young. With large bodies and narrow wings that spans of 10 feet, it is a wonder they fly at all.
At the edge of the shore, monk seals bask in the afternoon sun. Endemic to Hawaii and endangered, there are only 1,500 monk seals spanning over 1,200 miles. This rare sighting is unbelievable.
Look very closely for the sleeping Monk Seal.
The return journey proves to be much faster, and it is a huge relief to make it back to the car.
After a long day of hiking the pool and hot tub could not be anymore perfect to unwind. That is, except for the striking sunset setting the horizon and ocean aglow as we watch from the beach, as our feet sink into the wet sand. It seems nothing could be better.
The dawn breaks on the final morning of the trip. We pack and are ready to embark on one last day of adventures. We stop off for Malasadas, a portuguese donut and an island must! Stuffed with coconut cream, lightly fried, and covered in sugar it is a rich indulgence
Visiting here is rich in history and deeply moving. An underlying theme throughout this visit is for all to spread love and joy, to celebrate strength. It serves as a stark reminder to remain grateful and not take things for granted.
Touring the USS Arizona, a floating memorial, we hear recorded accounts from people who were there. It is impactful hearing these first hand accounts of the surprise attack. Stories of bravery and courage hit hard. Continuing on to the USS Missouri there are more personal stories that show compassion in war times and pull at the heartstrings. Arriving on the deck where the peace treaty was signed to end WW II, it feels we have come full circle, and the tour is complete.
Making our way back to the airport, we learn that our departure flight is delayed 3 hours. We decide to go to the airport anyway, despite the long wait ahead of us. Arriving at our gate, we find the the plane has gone from delayed to undelayed. Much like the rest of the trip, everything continues to work out perfectly.
The greatest gift of all is being able to share the joy, love, and adventure of the island with family. Sharing in the awestruck wonder, with smiles and laughter. This truly makes it the trip of a lifetime. It is an ineffable gift to share and feel so much love.
Diving into the unknown can be unnerving. You do not know what you will encounter or where it will come from. This can be true swimming in the ocean. Things can come up from behind, below, or beside you. Logically, I know that most of these things are likely to hurt me, and yet sometimes I still get twinges of nerves that surge through my body.
There are a few hidden gems of swim spots around where you can feel completely safe splashing around in shallow waters. Luckily, we found just one of those spots.
There are ancient royal fish ponds scattered throughout the coasts of the island. Made to keep and sustain fish to feed the kings and queens, they remain to view from the shore. To my surprise, we found one that allows swimming. It is unbelievable how many diverse and vibrant fish swim in this small pond. Swimming right in front of or alongside of you, are hundreds of different fish species. It feels as if suddenly I have become a fish too. The mask and snorkel allowing me to breathe air while keeping my face constantly in the water.
Suddenly, a Spotted Eagle Ray swims up from below and passes closely under me. It is startling, and exciting. I have always wanted to swim with a ray and here it is right in broad daylight.
It is an unexpected adventure we stumble upon while on an otherwise uneventful day. This is really just a pitstop on our way to Kona. Needing relief from the heat, we seek to cool off with a swim. I had no idea we would find this. Truly, one of the best parts about adventures is that they can come at any time and in sometimes completely unexpected times and places. It doesn’t have to be a big epic, planned out excursion. It can be completely free and spontaneous. You never know what you might find, swimming in the new and unknown.
The dark and cloudy sky grows ominous as the prevailing winds rattle the coconut trees and shake our shade structures. My loving partner and adventure companion is laid out sick. He will not be joining me on any excursion today, let alone the epic hike I had planned. Itching to get out, I decide to ignore the wailing winds and hit the trail.
I drive the truck to where the road ends, looking over the mighty Pacific Ocean. Water swells in waves as far as the eye can see until it meets the horizon, where the earth and sky blend together. Looking back towards the mountain side, there is a lush green valley that is carved from the mountain to the sea. Many people gather here, traveling from all corners of the world to take in this magnificent view. A trail steeply descends, winding its way down to the bottom of Pololu Valley. There is no road access as the terrain is too rugged to be tamed, the landscape is left wild. These are my favorite places, those only to be seen by those willing to make the effort to hike to them. I weave through tourists as they slowly make their way down. I am excited and leaping with anticipation of what this magical valley will bring. This first section is one I have hiked many times before, but what lays past her, I have not yet seen. The trail eases to a flat, gentle path that meanders through gentle giants, standing together as an incredible pine forest. These ironwoods are transplants from Australia. Much like I am a transplant from Massachusetts, I feel a kindred journey with them. These trees provide shade and a break from the wind that blows from the ocean. Just beyond there is a black sand beach with towering waves that crash hard onto the shore. The coast is rough here, with large rocks piled up everywhere. There are simply remarkable flowers, and I stop many times. They take my breath away as I take in their beauty.
I continue onwards, climbing steadily up the far side of the valley, ascending to the top of another cliff. I meet two other couples who are huffing and puffing their way up. They stop to catch their breath as I hike past. At the top there is another look out. Far more remote than the first, there are only a few people who have made it this far, resting on the bench and grassy area below. Another stunning view of the ocean, and yet another valley below. For most, this is the last stop, and they slowly turn back, beginning their return journey. I continue onwards. Clambering down into the second valley proves to be more difficult. My feet slide down the steep and muddy path, with nearly no traction. At its steepest section there are ropes which aid in descending gracefully. Forests grow on these cliff-sides, seeming to defy the odds. They thrive despite harsh winds and storms, salt water and rocky soil. Abundant with fruits and flowers, large palms cast cool shade. As the trail gradually levels out, I find myself in a thick, dense, bamboo forest. The only opening in the darkness is the narrow path that makes its way through to where the river that meets the sea. Suddenly, I am standing in bright sunshine. Water rushes past me. There is one family here who is walking up the river from the ocean. These are the first people I have seen since leaving the last lookout and now they too are heading back. A few hops and skips land me safely to the other side where the trail continues.
I ascend the next cliff. I am suddenly hit right in the face. Sticky webs cover my nose, eyes, and forehead. Scrambling away, I swat them off, pulling at every bit I can. Surely, I now realize- I must be the only one to have hiked this far today. Perhaps longer, judging by the size of that web. I continue on, now more cautious and vigilantly checking for spider webs. There are many other webs spun across the trail. Before side-stepping these snares, I stop to admire the intricate webs that are woven; their strength and ingenuity. High cliffs again give way to sweeping views of the ocean. This time I am alone. There is no one else. There is peace and tranquility in the solitude.
Slowly, I descend down to the third valley. The thick leaves that have fallen lay dried and cracking, crunching under my feet. I skip down this short section, kicking up leaves, reminiscing of fall in New England.
At the bottom of this valley I am greeted by enormous trees that soar over me. Their roots alone seem like they could swallow me whole. There is also a stand of smaller trees, growing close together. Buoys hang from their branches, drawing me in closer. Here I see they are actually encircling a small cabin. Quite mysterious, it looks abandoned. It is eerie and I freeze in my tracks. There is rustling in the trees and bushes, a stray dog is heard in the background. I have heard some gnarly stories of wild dogs and boars in the area. Suddenly my imagination is getting the best of me. I quiet it down, and calmly walk on.
The path leads past the cabin to a beautiful, remote, black sand beach. This is the most stunning of all. The sand is smooth, free from rocks. I take off my shoes and allow my feet to melt into the soft, wet sand. The ocean gently soothes and revitalizes the soles of my feet.
As I embark on the return trip I am overflowing with gratitude. I am alone, climbing back up and over into second valley. Continuing to climb up, all the way back out to the first lookout. Still, there is no one. I sit at the lookout, taking in the ocean. It appears brimming with endless opportunities. As I reflect on the day and the life I am living, another hiker approaches, whos asks “Is it worth it to keep going?”
You never really know until you try. For this reason alone, my answer is “yes”, it is always worth it to keep going.
This adventure led me to places I had never been before, into valleys I was not sure if it was even truly safe to travel alone. What I found was remarkable. Not only in the flora and fauna, but in the solitude, in the self-discovery. For anyone asking, my answer is yes. It is definitely worth exploring. It is always worth going deeper. On the trail and in your life. Wherever you are, whatever you may be doing. Make the most of it.
Kalani comes alive as a gathering of community, art, music, and sustainability in the name of Thrive. Warm vibes radiate forth as we dance barefoot in the grass, creating a heart-warming experience. We share tangerines with strangers who delight in the sweet citrus. They smile brightly, skipping away. It is reciprocal. While others are drinking straight from coconuts, I am offered a piece of Soursap. It drips with sticky juice as I peel away a piece, reveling in the sweet and tart pulp. The land is alive, abundant with nourishing food and drink.
Hip Ag, a local movement to bring education on a host of topics relating to returning to the land through sustainable agriculture, gives freely all weekend long. They provide workshops that teach skills ranging from aquaponics to sweetening fruit trees, making chocolate from cocoa to natural beekeeping. Their teachings are rich in knowledge and made accessible for anyone, encouraging everyone to grow paradise. Through these discussions they are urging everyone to use conscious agriculture, and demonstrating how it is possible. I walk away feeling inspired to graft trees myself, to cherish the gifts of the land.
Soaking in the sunshine as we listen to the music, making our way in between three stages, the diversity of sounds is refreshing. We hear bands rocking folk, rock, reggae, and electronic music you can’t just sit still through.
There are various yoga and cultural classes offered throughout the weekend as well. This includes a morning session with live acoustic music. The music moves everyone to sing sweetly of love and positive thinking while deep in yoga practice.
I am particularly moved by a set from Paul Izac. It begins as a solo set of his original songs of love and island life. The performance soon expands, as other musicians leap to the stage. It continues to grow organically with more musicians, expanding into a full band jam session. The performers are friendly and warm with each other and engage with the audience.
Taking place at the poolside stage, this is perfect for swimming in the cool, refreshing water without missing a beat of the music. The shade provides respite from the heat, as I watch mermaids swimming in the pool, and children playing in a kind, loving community.
There are truly remarkable musicians including Mike Love, Tubby and Amberlin, Mama Crow, Fantuzzi, and many more. They bring great skill and energy to the stages. There is a movement for social activism, a call to sustainable agricultural thread throughout the weekend.
The bicycles here are actually powering the sound systems for the stage. Renewable energy at its finest.
Making our way to our place for the night, we drive past steam vents as they release hot air from the earth’s core. We are further into quiet, rural Hawaii. The moon is full and so bright it paints everything in black and white, illuminating the palm trees and lava fields beautifully.
Pulling off the pavement, onto a road made of cinder an entirely different adventure begins. Marking landmarks such as certain rows of trees, a stray farm sign, we know we are on the right path. There are no road signs, even google maps is useless, unable to navigate to our destination. We take the last turn, arriving at a gate. We find the combination and open it, onto the last stretch. Arriving to this off-the grid farm is peaceful, quiet. There is no hum of running electricity, not a car or voice to be heard. There is only the sounds of a gentle breeze and coquis chirping, “world peace”. I hope to continue to sing that simple song every night and day.
100for2020 