Oceans of Sugar

Every now and then I get into the candy making mood. It doesn’t come all that often. But when it does it usually comes with an exponent. I can’t remember the last time I just made one type of fudge. It’s usually two, sometimes three or four.
Well, it hit yesterday and I’ve been in motion since. So far English Toffee (my sister Lisa’s oh so perfect recipe), Divinity the way my mom used to make it, and Salted Caramels, an oh so yummy blast in your mouth where the salt opens up the taste buds then the caramel floods them with sweet decadence. The last time I made caramels, I felt like they were a bit harder than I wanted to this time I pulled them off about 5 degrees sooner and while they hold their shape, they will melt in your mouth if you just don’t have the will to chew. Now, while breaking for lunch, I’m thinking of Peppermint Marshmallows, Dreamsicle Fudge, and Candy Coated Chocolate Dipped Pretzel Sticks.
Larry, meanwhile, is prepping to make his occasionally annual offering of Janice Pike’s White Fruitcake, a recipe he discovered I don’t know how many years ago, but it is . . . well . . . how to put it . . . Fruit cake lovers love it and fruit cake haters/avoiders say, “Wow! it’s surprisingly . . . edible. I think I’ll have another as a reconsider my lifelong fruitcake aversion.” I am one of the former fruit cake detesters brought into the light by Larry via Janice’s recipe, finding out that “fruit” with an expiration date sometimes in the next decade, can not only be tasty, but a nice sized slice freshly toasted makes a very decent breakfast substitute.
So we will spend the day in the kitchen, baking and cooking, making way too much and giving most away to people we love, or like, or work with, or are just thinking about. I could wax on poetically about homemade gifts versus mindless online purchases, but I won’t. Because when you do something for someone just because they are on your mind and you know it will make them happy, it really doesn’t matter how you get there. Because sometimes it really is the thought that counts.

Feather River Scrapbook

Larry started a Feather River 2010 blog and said he would try to get around to adding some pictures. Well, that information got lost in his very big brain filled with very important stuff. So . . . . . I put together a little slide show of Feather River 2000-2002. To bring back the memories . . . in case your very big brain is cluttered with very important stuff . . .
p.s. IF you have FR pictures from years past and would like to add to the joy, email them to me and I’ll do a makeover.

Hawaii 2009: Day 11

A tale of sadness and woe, gloom and misery, yes, today we must leave (insert wailing and gnashing of teeth here).
Ah, the drudgery of packing, especially when it’s time to leave. When you are packing to go somewhere there is a certain excitement, anticipation, plus at least I always figure, if I forget something, I’ll just beg, borrow or buy it when I get there. But when you are leaving, there’s this mental checklist you go through to make sure you didn’t forget anything; your razor in the shower, your socks under the bed, the book on the patio, the charger – where did I put that charger? By the way, I never did find the charger I was pretty sure I packed so good thing I bought one at DTW so long ago. Larry, consider my many to be of professional status when it comes to packing because of his umpteen jillion business trips, thought he was done three times before he finally located everything.
Finally everything is stuffed in, including the change into at the airport clothes to keep from freezing on board the plane, plus frostbite prevention when we return to the frigid Midwest. By the way, here’s a little news blip for you on the how-cold-is-it-in-Michigan note: there was a bomb scare in Dexter at an industrial complex across from one of the schools. The township contacted the school district to see if buses were available for the employees who had to be evacuated because it was too cold for them to stand around outside. That’s how cold it is. I get chicken skinned (local terminology) just thinking about it.
Back on point, we had to check out at 10:00 but had 6 1/2 hours to kill before it would be reasonable to head to the airport, so figuring out what to do was the immediate task at hand. We made a quick detour to pick up souvenirs for the grand kids (shark tooth surfer necklaces for the boys, a bracelet for Cosette) then went to Starbucks, trusty guidebook, my faithful companion and source of island minutia in hand. The parameters: 1. we wanted to stay on the west side of the island, no point driving over to the other just to drive right back, 2. L didn’t want to be in the sun, somehow he managed to get a burn yesterday sitting in the shade by the pool. (How I didn’t spending the day turtle watching, snorkeling, and reading in the sun by the pool is a wonder) 3. the back by 4ish time constraint. I looked through the book and there weren’t a lot of options that fit the requirements, pretty much going to more coffee farms or not going to more coffee farms. We opted to not go to more coffee farms. Instead, we drove up the coast a couple miles to see Hapuna Beach, consistently voted the Best Beach in America by travel publications including Conde Nast Traveler. 
The parking lot already had about 50 cars when we arrived shortly after 10:30. We walked the short distance to the beach and it was indeed impressive; about a mile of golden sand probably 150’ of beach front disappearing into calm Caribbean blue water. There were kids playing in the surf, a few snorkelers, and sunbathers sitting under brightly colored umbrellas. There were picnic pavilions on a slight tree covered rise overlooking the beach, full facilities (bathrooms) and lifeguard outposts (though they usually have signs that warn ‘no lifeguard on duty’.) Pretty darned idyllic. But the sand was blisteringly hot. And L didn’t want to be in the sun so he stood in the shade while I snapped a few pictures.
We went back to our home away from home and spent the rest of the afternoon by the pools at the Hilton, L in the shade, moi alternating sun and shade spots, reading good books and sipping umbrella drinks. Larry had a crab cake sandwich with a strange blue bun. All the while mentally preparing to go backkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk. (sense the mild panic welling up?)
The clock ticked away the minutes then the hours and he finally said, “You ready?” Did I have a choice? Rental car returned, we caught the first flight of a three legged journey, and and spent four hours sitting in the Oahu International Airport waiting for the next leg to take up to Phoenix then back to Detroit. Sigh. And sigh again.
I barely sleep on planes, even cross ocean odysseys that have you in the air for six hours of pitch black. I comfort my self with the knowledge that the less I sleep on the plane, the easier it will be to get back to home time. I don’t know why they don’t show the movie on night flights, but I think they should for us insomniacs who find trying to sleep in half the space of a phone booth difficult. Maybe a mind numbing flick would help the situation. But no flick so I amused myself with Sudokus in the flight magazine, then my favorite, Sky Mall, the magazine for people so bored they’ll read about things that no normal human really needs. A small sampling included Superman Cuff Links (for the very well dressed seven-year-old or the exec who still wears superhero jammies – only $129.99), the “dirty dog or horse owners solution”; a commercial animal bathing system (it cleans the skin, then combs the hair – only $999.99), a custom 15’ tall inflatable of a Yetti (for the Big Foot fan who has everything except his own Yetti- just $2899.00), 5 pound Inspiration chocolate bars engraved with things like Inspire!, Home Run, Great Job! Love! Live life to the Fullest (not things like Want Diabetes?, This is Gonna Make you Fatter than a House or Ever Been in a Sugar Coma?) only $95.00 – you can get smaller ‘chocolate diamonds’ for a mere $30 for those who need less inspiration in their lives and just want to feel the love. Or possibly my favorite who-could-live-without-this-eighth-wonder-of-the-retail-world, although it’s really tough to choose, a Life Sized 8’ Grand Ruler Anubis statue (you know, the Egyptian pharaoh/dog guard intimidating looking thing), and I quote cause I couldn’t make up anything this good, “Ready to protect your Egyptian palace. We guarantee heads will turn toward this enormous eight foot high masterpiece whose wow-factor rivals every other piece . . .” (then they will double over laughing and try to sell you lake front property in the Mohave)- my addition). It IS in faux ebony (plastic resin painted black) for a mere $1250.00 + $49 shipping. Of course at that price you have to assemble it yourself, but damn! won’t you feel safe and important in your Egyptian palace (wearing your Pharaoh jammies)Who in their right mind wouldn’t want one?
Alas, no more shopping time. We just got our landing warning to time to put away.
It’s been a great time, extremely relaxing, enough touristy things to have been tourists and enough relaxing things to be vacationing. It is good to know that we will be coming back. Again. And again.

Hawaii 2009: Day 10

Crazy huh? Ten days. Yeah, baby.
Judy and Barb really wanted to see some of Hawai`i’s green sea turtles. L and I had seen a couple in the water at the Place of Refuge, but Barb and Judy weren’t with us that day and we hadn’t seen any the day we snorkeled. They were leaving tonight so it was now or never time. I tagged along while L stayed and read.
We met their friends Mary and Jess for breakfast then followed them to a little side road down a residential street until we got to the telephone pole number 120. (The telephone poles on the street all had numbers. I don’t know if all Hawai`ian poles are numbered or not.) There was a vacant lot that turned out to be a beach access. I don’t remember the name of this beach but the truth is, I could just grab a handful of vowels, toss in a few p’s, h’s, m’s, a couple “, and an l or two, scramble them together and you wouldn’t know the dif. So for now, we’ll just keep it our little secret at pole 120. We grabbed our gear and walked in. It wasn’t a great swimming beach, rocky, evidence of a past lava flow, a little sand here and there. We walked to the water’s edge. In only a couple minutes Mary spotted the first turtle, then two, then five. Jack pot! We watched, Barb and Judy transfixed, I wandered a little farther down the beach and there were more. I lost count. I believe officially there were skads (by definition a skad is more than a dozen and less than 100). There must have been a notice posted in Turtleville that morning: Free Buffet at the Beach Today. One big guy (maybe gal) was in a pool munching away at whatever it is that turtles much. A wave would catch him/her, and it would float back and continued munching. It was oblivious to being watched. I watched, took some pictures and video with my iPhone then waved to B and J and they came over. Barb was especially mesmerized. She got out her video camera and shot for at least 30 minutes, then shot stills, then more video. I think she would still be there but we finally convinced her that we couldn’t snorkel at this beach, the rough surf and jagged shoreline was less than inviting. It was fascinating to be to such creatures in their own environment and be close enough to touch – but we didn’t because that is illegal.
After an hour or more of turtle watching, we went about 2 miles north to another beach. The white sand beach was the most crowded I’d seen on this trip, maybe 50 people lazing on the beach or in the water. We took turns snorkeling (we only brought gear for 2 and there were 5 of us). There was a coral reef less than 50 feet of shore and a very decent number of fish to watch, some pretty good sized, but no camera this time so we’ll leave it to imagination and I feel I have made you jealous enough at this point. No reason to rub it in. The water was nicely warm, the sun hot. Time flew. About 1:00, we had to go back so B and J could get their packing done.
L had spent the morning at the Hilton resort, not the condo, so we picked him up on the return, dropped B and J off at their condo and continued to ours. I went to the pool to get a little more relaxing in, L joined for a bit. Before you knew it, the day was mostly gone. We went to a nice little restaurant nearby called Roy’s, had a delicious meal, then took the cousins to the airport, all the while knowing it would be our turn to go tomorrow. Alas.
This is short but your eyes are probably still bleeding from yesterday’s saga so we’ll leave it at that.
(for some reason, I can’t find the turtle photos so will upload them later)

Hawaii 2009: Day 9

(Warning: grab and sandwich, this is a long one)
Today we crossed to the other side of the island in search of volcanoes. Yep, erupting, smoke venting, steamy lava spewing volcanoes. There are several ways to get there but for our purposes the most direct route was right between Mauna Loa (on the right-south) and Mauna Kea (on the left-north) via Saddle Road, about the only road that bisects the island, called Saddle because the area is called the saddle because of the saddle shaped valley between the two mountains. Gotta love the consistency of thought going on here.
Saddle Road was built in 1942 by the military because they wanted a road connecting the two sides of the island and they needed it now. It was meant for military vehicles not general real people cars so, as you can imagine, it isn’t the best road in the country. In fact it’s almost bad enough to be a main thoroughfare in Michigan. It was eventually paved by Sadists Paving and Pothole Company, a subsidiary of Saddle Road Body Shop and Alignment Center (I made that up but you get the gist), but the government has been working on redoing it and only the western most 20 miles is lousy. How lousy, you ask? Imagine you made a nice little road our of Play Dough. It’s a little lumpy but the edges are nice and neat and it’s just big enough for your Hot Wheel truck to drive along. All of the sudden you realize that, Oh No!, your friend Timmy is coming over with his Hot Wheel truck and now road needs to be wide enough for two Hot Wheels to pass side by side and you only have 6 minutes to get your road ready. So you grab a bunch of Play Dough, and not wanting to have one side really nice and smooth and the other side totally crappy for your imaginary Hot Wheel drivers, so you pack some extra Play Dough onto each side of the road making it two trucks wide. It’s no longer neat and smooth with clean edges but if only one truck is driving down the road, he can use the middle and it won’t rattle his brains loose. But if there are two and they have to pass each other, well this is the source of a lot of business for Hot Wheels Towing and Alignment Services. Now you’ve got the picture of the first part of Saddle Road. Oh, I forgot to mention that it is winding as a Texas Sidewinder wrapped around a cork screw. But it’s only this way for the western 20 miles not the entire 53.
The terrain starts as dry lava scrub land, then as you climb you start to see grass, then trees. Eventually you get to tropic-like fern covered forests. The fifty-three mile road summits around 6,600’ but there are side roads you can take up to Mauna Kea State Park (summit 13,796’) and some of the best star gazing in the world. The Onizuka Center for International Astronomy as well as the University of Hawai`i Telescope. We didn’t take detours at this point because there’s only so much time on vacation and if you do it all, you will be so tuckered out, you won’t want to come back nor need to.
Continuing to the other (east) side of the island, we did detour long enough to see some cool water falls. First was Wai`ele Falls, the Pe`epe`e Falls, Boiling Pots, and finally Rainbow Falls. Rainbow Falls is – if you believe legend – is where King Kamehameha buried the bones of his father. The rainbows are best seen in the mornings when the sun is at your back and wouldn’t you know it, it was almost noon so no rainbows though still quite beautiful. If we’d brought better shoes and newer knees and appropriate clothes, we might have been tempted to hike the trails and stick our feet in the water. But was getting pretty steamy, we’d read that the mosquitos win prizes for their blood letting abilities and the parking areas are known hang outs for nefarious characters who wait until tourist are off enjoying natures abundance, then break into the cars and grab what they can. When we pulled into the lot at Rainbow Falls, there was a car with a couple ‘nature loving’ young men parked in the shade amidst empty Wild Turkey and Mike’s Hard Lemonade bottles toward the edge of the parking lot. Giving them the benefit of the doubt, we took everything with us – cameras, cases, jackets, water bottles, GPS, Oreos, door handles, steering wheel, seat belts, everything except a bag of oranges, and went for a look/see at the falls. We never (at least not all of us at once) left the upper area where the parking lot was so one of us was always within sight of the car. A few more cars of tourists came, saw, and left, all being equally cautious. Eventually, the guys left for greener pastures, so did we. Next stop food and drink.
We drove into Hilo, found a strip mall, Barb and Judy went to the food court and L and I went to Mickey D’s, because it’s known for its exotic local cuisine and more importantly, it was in Walmart. Larry needed another shirt and I need shorts. I was wearing jeans and was hotter than a fat man wearing a rubber suit walking on a asphalt road through the Sahara in July. Food and changes procured, we were off to volcanoes via the Hawai`i Volcanoes National Park.
Hawai`i Volcanoes National Park headquarters is well worth the stop. There are lots of interesting pictures, an informative movie, rangers who know a lot and exist to answer your questions, books, displays, etc. though it is my guess most folks just stop long enough to maybe get a map and use the bathrooms. Barb and Judy went to watch the movie, Barb’s knees and hip limiting her walking distances. L and I took a walking tour to the overlook of the Kilauea Caldera learning about the different native species of trees and ferns on the island and their unique qualities that have allowed them to be sustained in an often inhospitable environment. Our ranger was a young rookie who was very passionate and informative. After the walk, on the way back he was walking with L and I and wanted to know how he did. “Any constructive criticism,” he asked for. We had none. We appreciated that his script was not rote and that he truly cared showed. It was good.
The Caldera look a little other worldly, moon-like, vents of steam spewing wisps of white smoke. The area around the crater was coming back, the farther back you got the more growth there was, the canyon surrounding reforrested over. You can see the lava flowing but not from here. And it’s not the mountain blowing off it’s top spraying the air with molten lava and explosions of rocks, a boiling lake of fire flowing down the mountain consuming bushes, trees and curious but slow tourists in it’s path. The eruption is farther around the coast, through a lava tube flowing into the ocean. Historically (OK since volcanic eruptions have been tracked since 1778) eruptions outside of a crater last weeks or months, not years. Only once, from 1969-1974 at Mauna Ulu, has an eruption lasted more than a year. But this current Kilauea one began in January 1983 and has been going since. The vent created, the Pu`u `O`o, ran until 1986, then shifted to a new one called Kupaianaha flowing until 1992, then it shifted back to Pu`u `O`o and is still going strong.
Today was an exceptionally clear day with some pretty good winds blowing. There were high levels of sulfur dioxide in the air, and because of the wind direction large sections of the crater rim road were shut down. Sometimes you can drive completely around the top of the crater but today we had to be satisfied with a quick drive to the Jagger Overlook, another viewing area of the crater but could go no further. Ah, but what’s a little stinky gas in the air? Well it’s some bad stuff. Deadly bad. The rangers all wear testers that show how much gas they’ve been exposed to, like X-ray techs. Too much and it’s bad news, baby. How bad, you ask? Back in 1790 Kilauea exploded. Kamehameha I (KI for simplicity) ruled most of the island. A pesky upstart chief named Keoua seized control of this part of the island and got in a bit of a row with KI. KI sent troops to do battle so Keoua and his loyalists regrouped at Kilauea, which was rumbling and grumbling at the time. Keoua spent a couple days trying to appease the goddess Pele (the volcano goddess) figuring she wasn’t happy with him to no avail and split his group into three parties to get the hell out of Dodge. The first group made it out, but then the mountain exploded, ash rained down and a suffocating gas covered the area.
When group three went to find group two, they finally saw them all huddled together, happy to find them, until they discovered that they were all dead where they stood. The only survivor was one pig (and if you’ve ever been to a pig farm you can understand why the noxious gas had no impact on the animal.) As for Keoua, he figured this was proof that Pele had it out for him and even though they kept fighting, eventually murdered by one of KI’s officers on his way to surrender. Bummer, for sure. (My book is just chocked full of useful and interesting little tidbits like this.)
Anyway, we spent a couple hours at the top, again, bad knees and wrong shoes prevented any of the incredibly beautiful and historic trails but one could spend a couple days and not get bored and when I am younger I fully intend to, then we headed back down the hill to go around to the south ocean side to see where the lava was entering the sea. It was about a 45 minute drive to the area of the lava flow look-out. Sometimes you get to go in, sometimes you don’t. It depends on the flow, winds, and whatever else the civil service wants to factor in to their decision making. You are allowed to enter between 4:30-8:00 pm and everyone is out by 10:00. The road, some parts two laned and clearly a road, and other parts that used to be a road before lava turned it into a crusted blob that has since been sort of paved into a one lane – it’s good to be in a four wheel drive vehicle – path/road thing. Warnings of danger, requirements of proper shoes and flashlights for those who dared adventure out over the 1/2 mile trek, were posted along the way in. We parked, sans flashlights but had the requisite closed toed shoes (although they didn’t stop anyone in sandals or flip-flops) and got into the flow of humanity off to witness destruction and creation simultaneously. Wouldn’t you know it, there were good old flashlight vendors along the way. We purchased a decently priced ($3 including new batteries) torch and continued. Seeing the distance to be covered and the inhospitable terrain, Barb and Judy decided to stay at the trail head and watch the smoke/steam/fire from there. They gave us their light and we continued with our fellow lemming toward the sea.
The trail is over an old lava field that is a bit treacherous; trenches, rivulets, rocks, crevices. You had to watch every step of the way and be careful of your footing. They had made an attempt to mark the trail. It looked like they had a road striper but only enough yellow paint for 100’ not the 2500’ needed so little 4” stripes were scattered giving you the idea of the way to go. While it was light, this was not that big of a requirement. I mean, you could look ahead and see the way, but on the return trip it proved indispensable.
We made it to the trail end with about 500 others as the sun was setting and could see the lava flow about a mile or two away. Describing it is like trying to describe the Grand Canyon or take pictures of fireworks. Words and photos are completely inadequate and you know me to be never at a loss for words. If you ever get a chance to see such a thing, do it. That’s all I got. We did take pictures and video, but like I said, totally inadequate.
We watched the show for about 25 minutes they decided to trek back ahead of the others as much as possible to get a head start down the long and treacherous trail, first by foot then by car, back to civilization. We picked our way back in the pitch dark over black lava along the broken yellow brick road, extremely grateful for the dotted line to follow. You had to look down the entire way, sweeping the trail for bumps, ridges, man-eating crevices, and land mines all the while trying to keep track of the little yellow blotches that kept you from wandering off never to be found again. I felt bad for the parents who brought young ones out, the ones we saw happily skipping and jumping from rock to rock, who would now demand to be carried back so said hapless parent would not only have to maneuver the trail from Hell but do it with a 7 year old on their shoulders (who probably whined the whole way because they didn’t get to hold the flashlight).
We eventually made it back, as is obvious by this little epic tale, with all parts intact and undamaged – just in case you were worried.

Hawaii 2009: Day 8

It’s just a little decadent to admit that this is Day 8 in Hawaii and there are still three more. Oh well, someone has to do it.
Judy took L to the Harley place at 8:00. She and Barb will use the car today to go visit friends on the other side of the island. Our plan was to explore the eastern side, beaches, waterfalls, rain forests and botanical gardens. (Notice the ‘was’ in that last sentence?) L was back at 9:00 and we took off north. There were strong cross winds, about 35 mph is my guess. When you are riding a bike at 60 mph and 35 mph winds are hitting you sideways, at various angles and different degrees of intensity, it a bit hairy. We knew when we turned east into the wind things would not be as bad so we pressed on. Turning east toward Waimea, we began to climb. It had been hot, steamy hot on the coast road and now the temperature was dropping nicely. Then about 1,500’ we felt the first mist. Another 500’ and it was beginning to sprinkle. By the time we got to Waimea, it definitely raining. Not a hard pelting rain, but more you-just-drove-into-a-cloud-forest rain. The wind was still battering us and the roads were getting slick. Rain + mist + slick roads + no end in sight + not altering your route = stupid. We made the self-preserving decision to go back to the coast and head south.
Just as we’d come up, by 1,500 feet with the wind at our backs, the mist was barely there. By 1,000’, the rads were dry again. Once we hit the coast road, we were too. I looked back up the mountain and the clouds still hung. Good decision.
Fifteen miles or so down the coast we came to a little pull off and thought we see what was there. I’d read there were some cool, off the beaten path places and we thought it was worth a try. We locked up the bike, grabbed our stuff and headed down the trail. About midway down the trail of crushed lava and scattered stone bounded by scrub brush on either side, we’d lost the sound of the highway and hadn’t picked up the sound of the ocean. We came upon several small herds, if 3-5 is a herd, of wild goats. They’d hear our crunching, pause for a quick look, then quicker than you can say, “Mutton for dinner” they dashed into the brambles. The goats, like the long horns and wild burros are smarter remnants of herds brought over by the earliest settlers then let go to “increase and multiply” who did not return when called back to come home for dinner. We kept plodding toward the beach and eventually heard the ocean. I hope this is worth it, was alternately crossing my mind, along with I hope the Harley is still there when we get back, and gee, I really would like to pee, and we should have brought some water, it’s hot!
We finally climbed over the rise to the beach and well, it was a bit underwhelming. Not worth a 30 minute hike (15 each way) in the steaming sunshine. There was a cool house right there with a lovely tropical lagoon, and if the house wasn’t there, one might be tempted to jump into, but the house was there, we were dressed for riding (jeans, tennis shoes and tee shirts) and not jumping, so the temptation instantly evaporated. So back we went.
I figured it took about 15 minutes to walk the trail and calculated we took about 100 steps per minute so started counting. Somewhere along the trail back, L said, “At least the goats were interesting.” Yep, it was that exciting. For your information, 1,582 steps later we were back and the bike was still there. Next stop, find water.
After lunch (with lots of liquid), we continued south toward the Place of Refuge, first climbing 1,000 to cooler air then back down. We turned off Highway 11 onto Napo`opo`o Road, a narrow winding thing that goes from tropical rain forest to dry lava fields in a space of about 12 miles, eventually coming to Pu’uhonua o Honaunau, The Place of Refuge. At this point, I’m going to just call it PR.
When you go past the visitor center, you enter a beautiful coconut grove on the beach. There are a few original thatched huts still remaining. These were part of the Royal compound. The chief, his family and attendants would hang out here. There were originally ten or more buildings on the grounds, a canoe landing on the beach, there are still fish ponds where food fish were kept, and lots of carved wooden images warning outsiders of the kapu. Kapu was the legal system that kept the locals in check because if one pissed off the gods, they would send earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, tidal waves, famine or anything else their sadistic deific whim dictated. You couldn’t cross the shadow of a royal, walk in his footsteps, eat the wrong things, etc. etc. There was only one penalty to keep the gods happy: death by club, strangulation, spear or fire. Nice to have options.
The back part of the grounds are separated by a big lava stone wall, around 17’ thick and up to 10’ high built around 1550. This part was the Place of Refuge. The great grandfather of Kamehameha I (ready for this? Keawa`ikekahiali`i o kamoku-the bigger the name, the more important the guy, that’s why there were no kings named Ed) was a really, really important guy who eventually died. A temple Hale-o-Keawe was built on these grounds and his bones buried there. (Eventually 22 more chiefs bones were added to the temple/mausoleum.) It was believed that, because he was so important, his mana (supernatural power) i.e. really good karma, protected the entire place and no blood could be shed in this place, keeping the grounds sacred. Thus this became a place to give people a second chance. When someone was sentenced to death-defeated warriors who managed to get out alive (extermination of the enemy was the rule of the day), broke kapu, or what ever put them under a death penalty, if they could get to the PR before the cops i.e. the chief’s bouncers and henchmen, could catch them (think “Run, Forest, run!”), they were safe (sort of a life or death Hide and Seek game where PR was base). Usually they would swim across the bay. If you saw the brambles across the lava fields, you’d definitely try swimming as the better option. Once there, eventually a priest would show up, absolve them of their crimes and they were free to go home. I haven’t read how word got out that Fast Eddie had been absolved of crimes and no longer under the death penalty, perhaps a Get Out of Jail Free card, they were given the Survivor Pu`uhonua immunity idol or some such thing, but somehow it did and said offender was free to return home, often the same day, as the spirit of pu`uhonua (mulligan) was respected by all.
We wandered the grounds for a while, checked out the sites, took lots of pictures, saw some cool birds and a couple big sea turtles, then started to melt in the hot tropic heat and humidity, so made our way back up island. Along the way, we stopped at the Royal Kona Coffee Museum, Mill and Store. We sampled the wares but were unimpressed, I guess Kona Joe spoiled us or we knew we could get bitter coffee at Starbucks, so left without dropping a dime. Dropped off the Harley, took a cab back to the resort, tried the pool but the flies decided to vacation here this evening, so grabbed a couple Mai Tais and returned to the condo.
Haven’t heard a word from the cousins so we’ve got burgers on the grill (enough in case they show), fresh pineapple and yogurt, a good bottle of wine, and plan a lazy night in.
In a word, boring. You’ve heard it here before.
The nice thing about having time, is that there is no rush or sense of obligation to try to get it all in. Thus boring is really, really nice. I’ll take boring on a tropical island any day.

Hawaii 2009: Day 7

I can’t believe it’s Friday. Even though you’re reading this on Saturday which it is according to my computer’s clock. Anyway . . .
We headed south toward Kailua-Kona for our day of snorkeling. We had somewhat randomly chosen to book with Body Glove and it turned out to be a prime choice. Even though we got switched to the morning cruise, 4 1/5 hours instead of the afternoon 3 hour one, it was excellent. The boat, a 65’ catamaran carries 130 passengers but our cruise had only 20. Ideal. Tons of individual attention, an excellent crew; Taylor the bartender, Sharky the knows-a-lot but does mostly schmoozing as far as I could tell although I’m sure he would be the second one to jump in should you get into trouble, JD who does a lot and probably would be the first one to jump in mostly because he’s always on the move, Mike and Caleb the SCUBA instructors, and another guy who I failed to attach a name to. So that’s like a 3 or so to 1 ratio of passengers to crew. The boat had lots of shade, restrooms, a fresh water shower for after snorkeling getting rid of the salt water grit, plus food, a bar, and everything needed for the rookie snorkeler to the advanced SCUBA-er, good boat, good crew, I’d highly recommend it but then the secret would be out. So never mind.
Kailua Bay is the starting point of the Ironman Triathlon. It’s also the place that King Kamehameha chose to spend the last years of his life. His personal Heiau (temple) is right by the pier. A lot of schools of brightly colored fish like to hang out in the area so it’s a popular spot for beginners or anyone who wants to get in a quick snorkel. We noticed several people in the water when we arrived to check in.

Dolphins swimming next to the boat

As we left Kailua bay, we immediately came upon numerous dolphin pods, first spinner then bottle nose. They were jumping and, I guess, frolicking is the best description, almost showing off for each other to see who could leap the highest out of the water. We watched them play for a while, some swam so close the pictures look like we bought a post card. It was pretty amazing. After a while of watching we headed to Pawai Bay, a leisurely couple miles up the coast pausing often to see the dolphins tracking our progress.
Once we arrived and tied up to the buoy we all donned masks, snorkels and fins and dove in. I’m always a little slow to hit the water, my serious aversion to anything cold makes me take it slow so I was the last to break the surface. Once in, I immediately swam back and told Sharky I needed to buy a camera, which he took care of so I didn’t have to leave the water. Pawai Bay while not as abundant as Hanauma Bay was like having your own personal National Geographic TV station. Peering down to the ocean floor, I don’t know how far it was because the water was so clear, you could see the old lava flow, now covered with the beginnings of coral and sea life. Sea urchins dotted the lava and brightly colored fish swam in singles or schools of dozens. In the distance, maybe a quarter mile away, spinner dolphins were playing in the surf. On my first trip back to the boat the SCUBA divers were passing around an octopus

A small octopus

they’d come across. I boarded to warm up a little, the Pacific is not as warm as the Caribbean, but went back for two more dives. On the second, I guess I was about 30 feet from the dolphins but was looking the wrong direction and never new I was in their neighborhood. Pity. Would have made a great photo op. We’d seen the dolphins at the resort but it was nothing like this. The numbers, the closeness, the naturalness of these marvelous creatures in their own environment – - Awesome.
Too soon, the hours came to an end and it was time to return. Once again, dolphins accompanied us. Amazing. We said our good-bye to the incredible crew and promised we’d return. Soon I hope.
Larry went to get the car so the cousins (and old wife with bad knees) wouldn’t need to make the uphill trek after hours of snorkeling (chivalry lives), while we watched the natives splash in the surf. A side note here: there should be a limit on the maximum size that bikinis come in. If people don’t have the good sense to know that there is only so much fleshy acreage that should be exposed to complete strangers and impressionable youngsters who could be scarred for life, manufacturers should take social responsibility and do us all a favor. Ladies, if you cannot see your swimsuit bottom when you look down, it’s time to retire it and get a one piece. Or possibly a tent. Or parachute. Likewise, Speedos for men. If you’re not in Olympic shape, gentlemen, please do us all a favor. The same rule applies: Boys, if you can’t see the Speedo because you’ve stored enough calories to survive a 7 year famine, we don’t want to see it either. Could someone call Europe and explain? Sorry, a little ranting . . .
Next stop, Wal-Mart for one hour photo developing. Yesserrie, boys and girls, Hawaii has Wal-Mart and Target and even K-Mart so real people of average income can survive. We killed the hour wait by finding the Harley place where L and I would pick up our bike for tomorrow’s jaunt around the island, then headed back and perused the aisles for necessities like Oreo’s, York Peppermint Patties, and salt and pepper. I know. It doesn’t need to make much sense.
Picture CD in hand, we returned, loaded photos into the computers, grilled salmon for dinner, sat around and did a lot of nothing and that was pretty much the rest a very excellent day.
My apologies that the pictures are not better quality. I think you need something better than a disposable camera to take decent quality pictures underwater. But, what the heck, it’s the best I’ve got.

Hawaii 2009: Day 6

The good news is I’m getting better at sleeping in. The bad news is I’m getting better at sleeping in. At some point I’ll have to readjust to the real world and that will be a nasty shock to the system. This was Barb and Judy’s first full day here so not wanting to overtax the travel weary we made the huge sacrifice of doing a lot of nothing. Again.

Barb and Judy at the Hilton resort

Larry took them over to see the Hilton Resort we had stayed at the first part of our trip, they hit the market to pick up a few necessities while I had a leisurely morning catching up with mom via phone and doing a lot of nothing. So nice. Larry called to say they were on the way back about the same time I got his text saying they’d stopped at the store and did we need anything. By the time I got in touch they were on their way back and I didn’t have a chance to request CHOCOLATE anything as I was in a serious state of sugar deprivation.
In they came, Judy with a Godiva chocolate bar for me (God bless Judy and Godiva) which was exactly what I wanted but Larry said, “Wait! Try these first,” and handed me a bag of chips. Now, I appreciate chips but upon further inspection realized, thankfully before my hand entered the bag, that they were shrimp flavored chips. Ewwww and ewwww again. He said, “They’re good.” Ewwww and ewww again, again. No thanks. Godiva chocolate or shrimp flavored potato chip, you tell me what you’re going to choose. Yeah, me too. The chocolate disappeared in about 2 minutes. The chips still sit on the counter. (If they’re so good, why aren’t they gone by now?)
Meanwhile, we got a message from our people at Body Glove, the company that will be taking us out snorkeling tomorrow. The message explained that we were the only ones scheduled for the afternoon three hour tour and would we mind changing to the earlier 4 1/2 hour deluxe cruise (which includes breakfast and lunch.) After a little thought we decided maybe a three hour tour with 7 people was a little to much like Gilligan’s Island and not wanting to tempt fate, and with no professor in our mix, opted for the earlier launch.
After lunch it was a tough afternoon of deciding, sun front or back, hot tub or swimming pool, Pina Colada or Margarita. Vacations are so mentally taxing. Tom the bartender, our new best friend had called to tell us that today’s sunset celebration drink was a Blue Hawaiian and there would be live music at the pool at 4:30. Until then we browned in the sun, alternately snoozing or reading, turning or dipping, always sipping.

The Barbeque patio

The place here has some nice little patio cabanas with grills and picnic tables. There’s one across from our room so about 5:30 Larry went over and fired up the grill while I got burgers and fixings ready. We set the lave rack picnic table with all the fixings for dinner, ate, drank and enjoyed each other’s company as the sun quietly slid down into one of those perfect sherbet colored sunsets with the black silhouettes of palm trees that you see on postcards. There were even a few smoky clouds hanging in the sky motionless as if they too were amazed by the colors. Perfection.
At some point in the afternoon, Judy had one of those just-can’t-get-this-smile-off-my-face-ear-to-ear grins and I said, “Are you having a good time?”
She put her hand on my shoulder and said, “We will spend the rest of our lives trying to think of ways to thank you.”
Tonight, as the sun was setting, she snuggled back against Barb as they watched to colors fade and sighed one of those contented, at peace with the world sighs.
It was all the thanks we could ever want.

Hawaii 2009: Day 5

Larry’s cousins are coming to join us today for a couple days so we are leaving the spectacular Hilton Resort and moving over to the spectacular Hilton vacation condos (which we are owners-see Day 3). Leaving here will mean that we are no longer going to be “serenaded” by the 47,693,117 Mynah birds that call the tree right outside our room ‘the party house’ every night and morning. The locals say that this is because they are very social. Imagine a bar in Daytona during spring break. It’s that social. These lovely creatures arrive about sunset each evening and catch up on the days gossip, each one trying to out shout his neighbor, trying to get the attention of the hot Mynah chic three branches over. The resulting symphony is about as subtle as the cannons in Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture, if the cannons were exceedingly loud, continuous, happy and multiplied by 47,693,117. They continue until sometime after I fall into my nightly coma (I know this because when I wake at 2:36 each night they are silent) but then kick back into high gear sometime before 5:00 a.m. when they resume their conversations, making plans for the day until sunrise when they take off for distant parts competing to see who will have the best story when they get back together for their ritual frat party. Bye, bye birdies. Not sure if I’ll miss you (but I have with every shot thus far).
Another fascinating side note: there a a ton of feral cats everywhere. I noticed this on Oahu also. Here, there are actually placards posted stating something like, “Please do not feed the feral cats. They are taken care of the Society Who Wants to See Hawaii Overrun By Feral Cats (or some other charitable organization) Feeding them disrupts their diets and makes them shit a whole lot more than less enlightened non-cat-loving slackers find attractive.” I’ll take a picture for you. They wander paradise at will. I haven’t noticed them scratching the eyes out of any well meaning tourist who wants a photo op with a wind cat, but I’m pretty sure it has happened. I mean, what are the odds? They can be a bit mangy but their manginess is protected none the less. Here kitty, kitty.
I bring you these exciting tidbits of information because we really have a boring day planned. If you thought Day 2 was boring, well, just continue reading.
Back to the less interesting . . .
We arranged for a little bit later check out and am not sure if we are yet able to get a bit early check out at the condos so will spend the morning leisurely doing a lot of nothing, tourist style. We packed our stuff, had a bite to eat, then decided with tons of nothing to do time on our hands, we’d find a couple choice spots (shade for L, by sun by a pool for moi) and kill the next couple hours. I read for a while, chatted with two couples in the water approaching the end of their stays, then thought, what the hay, I’ll go get a manicure. I called the spa and got an appointment, then met L who was heading back to the room to get our bags picked up for storage until we were ready to blow this taco stand on the way to the next.
Nails done, ate again, then headed over to the new place and dropped our stuff in Barb and Judy’s place as ours was not yet ready. Judy is L’s cousin and Barb is her partner. They’ve been together longer than most married couples and are sweetly in love. Barb got cancer several years ago, was successfully treated and cancer free for several years. During her first treatment series they met a wonderful holistic practitioner that they really clicked with. Barb’s cancer returned, and what do you know, their practitioner has moved to this island, so they were quite excited that we had an extra condo reserved making it possible for them to come and visit her again. They said, “It’s a God thing,” not wanting coincidence to get the credit for God’s anonymous workings. They’ve made plans to visit her on Saturday while we rent a Harley and cruise aimlessly so I can write another novelette about nothing.
Next on the list, Costco so we don’t have to eat out every freaking meal, thus stocked up, spending nearly $100 on booze (margaritas, mai tais, and chardonay) plus a little breakfast, lunch and dinner fixings. Finished off the shop with a run to Target to get things we didn’t need in “big enough to feed the whole island” sizes. When we returned, our room was ready for check in and Good golly Miss Molly, it is FINE ! I could live here indefinitely. Let me just say, the tub is so big there is a “No Lifeguard on Duty” sign posted. If a picture is worth a 1,000 words, I’ll spare us both and attach some photos.

About the time we finished loading in, we got a call from Tom the bartender who invited us over to the pool for some Wiki Wiki Woo Woo’s to celebrate the sunset. Now I don’t think the sunset is an unusual occasion, but when if an excuse is required for drinking Wiki Wiki Woo Woo’s, I’m willing to celebrate anything, mundane to extraordinary, whether it’s setting suns, the laundry getting folded, that Tuesday showed up between Monday and Wednesday, or Hot Damn! the lava missed us by .04 centimeters. Figuring the putting away all things Costco could wait until after requisite sunset celebrations-because one does not want to tempt fate by messing with a time honored local traditions, (Back in the day, the ancient chiefs established a long list of taboos to keep folks in order, believing that this kept the gods happy, kept society orderly, and was a source of morbid entertainment for the upper classes. If one was found guilty of a violation ‘kapu’, whether interrupting a chief, eating bananas or fish -this applied to women only, preparing food in the wrong container, or crossing the shadow of a chief, the offender was penalized with death by strangulation, club or fire. If the offense was serious enough, the whole family ‘was invited’ to join the fun.) we made straightway for the pool bar and met our new best friend, Tom, to celebrate and protecting our families from possible wrath. Tom let us know how to charge things to the room and MOST IMPORTANT, keep an open tab. Yippee!
Returned to the room, finished unpacking, putting away of the groceries, the got to the airport to pick up Barb and Judy. I’d made reservations for 8:00 and we rolled into the parking lot of Buzz’s at precisely 7:57. Got seated, had a leisurely and delish appetizers, drinks and dinner, then dropped J and B off at their new place as it was now nearly 2:00 a.m. their time. Back to our place, bed and eventual sleep.
Another day of nothing.
Don’t you wish you were here?

Hawaii 2009: Day 4

The Hawaiian Style Cafe

We’d heard there was a little place about 40 minutes from here in Waimea called the Hawaiian Style Cafe, a little hole in the wall that was a great place for breakfast so we made the trek. We had been warned that the portions were plenty for two so pick something to share. Once we found it and true to description, it truly was a hole in the wall, a little pink cafe in what generously might be called a strip mall, if a motorcycle shop, real estate office and knick knack/cheesy gift shop and a coffee shop can be called a strip mall. The place was packed. There were a couple seats at the bar at the end closest to the kitchen so we took them. We could see into the kitchen and the main cook was a BIG Hawaiian guy, whose head was bigger than a bowling ball and he rest of him slightly larger than a bear preparing for hibernation. It didn’t look like the health department had crossed the threshold for several decades. Their motto (on a tee shirt on the wall) was Service, Speed, Taste, Pick one. Larry wavered on the sharing option but the couple next to us assured us that there was way too much food for one (unless you were the cook, who purposely upsized the portions because he got to eat the leftovers) so we took their word on it. We looked at the menu and decided on the three egg omelet with meat, mushrooms, onions and cheese, with a pancake, hash browns and toast. Because we were closet to the kitchen the waitress took our order first when she came out of the kitchen, and we had our food in a flash.
The portions were huge. Does ‘bigger than your head’ give you a mental picture? The pancake, on it’s own plate, covered the whole thing with an ice cream scoop size mega-dollop of butter on top. The omelet was about three and a half inches thick, accompanied by what can only be described as a slab of hash browns. The only thing resembling normal human size was the toast. Good old Wonder bread, wheat, one slice toasted and buttered. Larry split things up. I told him to take more than half but he held back. Sometime later we had stuffed, forked and plowed through as much as possible, Larry’s gone, mine half way attempted, paid the tab and left, our collective cholesterol increased by 709 points.
We cut up to northern Kohala via the Kohala Mountain Road which travels the spine of the dormant Kohala volcano, through the 225,000 acre Parker Ranch seeing occasional cattle along the slopes. This side of the mountain is on the dry, leeward side and is scrub brush and grassland. Somewhere around the top, as we began to descend, there looked to be a huge mountain ahead. It’s the island of Maui, 30 miles away. We headed into Hawi (Hah-vee) a sleepy little town that looks like it could be anywhere else, maybe Merced, Stockbridge or Plano, Texas. A few shops, a couple unimpressive eateries, but we got out to walk around anyway. We met a local who said we had to go farther down the road to the east until it dead ended a couple mile farther down. There was a spectacular valley, black sand beach, the original Kamehameha the Great statue-he was born right here you know we were informed, and the edge of the rain forest. His enthusiasm was contagious (sort of like H1N1) but we went anyway.
A couple miles down the road, there was good old King H, looking just like he did in Honolulu. There’s a good reason for this; the statue in Honolulu is a duplicate of this one, sort of. When the original statue was commissioned, they cast it in France and brought it over by ship. Unfortunately, the ship sank. Fortunately, they had shipping insurance so got another one made which arrived safely via Fed Ex. A few years later, the captain of the sunken vessels found the

King K looking mighty fine

original statue sans arm which was surgically repaired with Bond-o and Gorilla Glue (someone had salvaged it and put it in the garden with the gnomes and cement geese) so bought it for $500 and brought it over, safely this time. I guess since there already was one at the capital, the powers that make these decisions thought sticking good old King H up in his home town would be a good idea. I read that the artist tried to get him not to wear the fancy yellow hat and robe, but he thought it looked sassy so was forever immortalized in said finery.
A little farther down the road we were in the beginnings of a rain forest; philodendron leaves the size of turkey platters, banyan trees, ginkgoes, bamboo and more, a dramatic change from the desert like climate we’d been in twenty minutes before. The road came to a dead end at a path that led down to the black sand beaches you could see a several hundred feet below. There was a beautiful lagoon below that would be perfect for a picnic if we’d remember to bring a Sherpa to haul cooler, picnic basket, blanket, bottle of wine, and equipment for building an escalator for the return trip. There were warning signs that the trail was extremely dangerous and could break apart at any minute right under your feet causing severe injury or inconvenient death. Plus, although it was said to be about a 15 minute descent, but it would take about 2 1/2 days to climb back up even if we’d brought better shoes and knees, so we satisfied ourselves with pictures and let the young guys with boogie boards brave the climb.
We checked out a couple beaches on the way back. Took a few more photos. Then got back for a quick rest before going on a dinner sunset sail. The sail was much less adventurous than the one we took last year to see the Napali Cliffs. No high seas, no up-chucking fellow adventures, dolphins, whales or turtles, just smooth sailing, pleasant company, mediocre food, more photos and a decent sunset.
Tomorrow we check out of the Hilton resort and move over to our condo for the week. Our scheduled adventures include, packing, moving our crap, making a Costco run, and picking up Larry’s cousins at the airport.
I know what you’re probably thinking, Just another day in Paradise.
And you’d be right.