Blasted!
The Road to Hana is approximately 35 miles long — and if you’re minding the speed limit and see some of the sights along the way — might take you 3 to 4 hours. It’s an arduous trek, but I was feeling good about the drive this time, due mostly to the nice man in the black T-shirt blowing kisses to people as they drove by. That’s how it suits him to show the Aloha spirit, and we were happy to be the recipients of his generosity.
The drive is always more beautiful than you remember it — and longer too. We made it to Wainapanapa State Park (pronounced, WY-UH-NAH-PUH-NAH-PUH STATE PARK) within a couple of hours of leaving the Condo. It’s guys like me that lend creedance to the bumper sticker, “SLOW DOWN — This Ain’t The Mainland.” Wainapanapa is amazing.
Sarah and I went for a hike along the rugged coastline and watched in awe as the the turquoise waves slammed the black lava formations. It’s the closest either of us has been to witnessing an unstoppable force meet and immovable object.
My favorite part of the hike are the blow holes. Lava tubes were created in the rock by the hot flow of lava that once poured into the sea. But, now waves flow back up the tube forcing water and air straight up like a geyser or , uh, blowhole. I love climbing up the nearest rock to the blowhole and looking down into it and let the salt water wash over me. It makes my sunglasses unusable for the moment, but it’s worth it. Sarah has always pleaded with me when I choose to step near the edge of any potential peril, but she has new material to coax me back from the edge. This time she called, “Ryan, you’re a father now. I don’t want to be a single parent.” It worked. I stepped down from my perch and we continued our hike.
Next, we went to a red sand beach in Maui (this is it ^^^. Sorry I had to use someone else's photo). You have to hike a little way to get there, but it’s worth it once you do. The beach appears to have been scooped out of the side of a mountain with the world's largest ice cream scoop. Very few people make it to this beach in Hana, and we like it that way. There was never more than 6 people on the beach while we were there. It’s also a nude beach, and just before we left, it finally lived up to it’s designation.
Then, we headed to Hamoa Beach (also someone else's photo), which has my favorite sand. It’s considered a black sand beach; but it’s brown/black mix, if you ask me. Whatever the color, it’s the softest sand I’ve ever set feet to.
Finally, we headed to our Bed and Breakfast. The directions told us to turn right at the cluster of 3 or 4 mailboxes (it’s 5, actually) and make another right at the fence posts, so we did. Sam (short for something I can’t remember) Butterfly (who could forget this name?) was there to meet us by the clotheslines. Sam had long red curly hair, a big gap-toothed smile, welcoming eyes and no brassiere to speak of. Sam’s daughter, Mercury, went running across the lawn toward the house. She wasn't wearing a bra either — or a shirt for that matter. Sam and Mercury were a delight, and so was their place*, which they allowed to be our place for the night.
The guest house where we stayed had everything you could possibly need in the middle of paradise:
*Their place was completely solar-powered. Very cool.
Next, we went to a red sand beach in Maui (this is it ^^^. Sorry I had to use someone else's photo). You have to hike a little way to get there, but it’s worth it once you do. The beach appears to have been scooped out of the side of a mountain with the world's largest ice cream scoop. Very few people make it to this beach in Hana, and we like it that way. There was never more than 6 people on the beach while we were there. It’s also a nude beach, and just before we left, it finally lived up to it’s designation.
Then, we headed to Hamoa Beach (also someone else's photo), which has my favorite sand. It’s considered a black sand beach; but it’s brown/black mix, if you ask me. Whatever the color, it’s the softest sand I’ve ever set feet to.
Finally, we headed to our Bed and Breakfast. The directions told us to turn right at the cluster of 3 or 4 mailboxes (it’s 5, actually) and make another right at the fence posts, so we did. Sam (short for something I can’t remember) Butterfly (who could forget this name?) was there to meet us by the clotheslines. Sam had long red curly hair, a big gap-toothed smile, welcoming eyes and no brassiere to speak of. Sam’s daughter, Mercury, went running across the lawn toward the house. She wasn't wearing a bra either — or a shirt for that matter. Sam and Mercury were a delight, and so was their place*, which they allowed to be our place for the night.
The guest house where we stayed had everything you could possibly need in the middle of paradise:- A view of the ocean right from the bed
- An outdoor bathtub in the manicured gardens near the koi pond
- An indoor shower with a high-efficiency shower head
- An outdoor kitchenette with fridge, stove top, sink, tea pot and coffee percolator
- A Weber Grill(!) - if you know me, you know how big of a deal this was
- A banana orchard, which supplied the bounty left in our fruit basket
- A bookshelf with 246 VHS tapes (I counted) — Everything from A Fish Called Wanda to Xanadu, and a book collection complete with copies of Dating for Dummies and Breaking the Surface, by Greg Louganis.
*Their place was completely solar-powered. Very cool.
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