The Big Island: Part II

Finally, my long overdue second installment of our trip to the Big Island of Hawai’i in November (yes, five months later, I know). When we last left off, Peter and I were staying in Volcano, just five minutes outside Hawai’i Volcanoes National Park. Upon leaving Volcano, we continued driving north around the island to head back to Kona...

Forty five minutes north of Volcano is Hilo, the capital of the islands. It’s a beautiful sprawling city full of pastel houses and tropical flowers, situated right along the ocean. Much of Hilo was destroyed in a tsunami in 1960, sparing only a few of the downtown buildings, so its history and character seem to be scattered in pockets throughout the city. The famous farmer’s market is open almost every day of the week to sell fruits and vegetables from equatorial regions around the globe. A stroll around downtown reveals occasional glimpses of the "real" Hawai'i where local residents live and work, and tourists just pass through. We stopped by Hilo Shark's Coffee Shop on Waianuenue Avenue a few times to fill up on Kona coffee in the morning and lilikoi lemonade in the afternoon. Another pleasant surprise was the Papahanaumokuakea Marine National Monument Discovery Center, which is a great free visitor center that introduces people to the importance of a marine sanctuary so remote and protected that few people will ever see it.

Just north of Hilo is the spectacular Hawai'i Tropical Botanical Gardens, a privately owned garden preserve located in a verdent valley right on the ocean. The paved trails wind through shady groves of tropical plants from all around the world. You might feel a little like Alice in Wonderland as you try to comprehend the outrageous forms and colors fighting for your attention. We spent a whole afternoon wandering around the grounds taking one picture after another. My favorite spot was the orchid garden, with flowers so beautiful it seemed impossible that they were real. North of the gardens is What's Shakin', a little open air cafe in the rolling hills with a view of the ocean. They make great fruit smooties, sandwiches and salads that might cost more than you'd pay in Hilo, but the setting and freshness of the food can't be beat.

Continuing north along the winding highway is the Hawai'i of your dreams. Towering green mountains, cascading waterfalls and steep-sided lush valleys wait around every turn. If you have the time, you should definitely check out Akaka Falls State Park for a pleasant hike through a mountain rainforest that leads to a 400 foot waterfall. For the minimal effort it takes to walk the smoothly paved trail, you get an incredible view of one of the most stunning ribbon falls on the island. It's worth the drive. Before you get back on the highway, you might enjoy taking a little stroll around the village of Honomu, which was a thriving mill town back in the early to mid-20th century, when sugar dominated the island economy. This portion of the highway ends at the overlook into Waipi'o Valley, a place that is sacred to native Hawai'ians. The road down into the valley is only accessible by 4-wheel drive vehicles, and at an average grade of 25%, if it were actually classified as a road it would be one of the steepest in the world.

From Waipi'o Valley, you head west and up into the high country of Waimea. This ranching community has a distinct western charm, with grazing livestock dotting the rolling green hills. Coming down the western mountain slopes, the green quickly fades away to a desert of rock and cactus, and just beyond, the blue ocean. It's a strange combination and one that feels particularly barren after the lushness of the drive from Hilo. Pu'ukohola Heiau National Historic Site sits right on the ocean just down the mountain from Waimea. This side of the island is very hot and often windy, so a visit to this site is only recommended if you have a strong interest in knowing more about the complicated history of the Hawai'ian people. I learned a lot, but was also feeling pretty worn out by this point.

With a few hours to spare before our flight and not enough energy to sightsee in the heat, what else was there to do, but crash the bar at the Four Seasons north of Kona? While the rest of the coast was whipped into a frenzy by strong winds, the beach at the Four Seasons was blissfully calm. We walked along the beach watching the rolling turquoise waves and stalked some of the non-native flightless fowl begging for handouts around the bar area, before settling down into plush deck chairs to have ridiculously over priced drinks and appetizers. After a busy four days traveling all over the island, the chance to sit in a comfortable chair, sip a cold glass of white wine, and watch the sun set over the Pacific Ocean was worth every penny.

Death Valley Adventures

Coming down out of the mountains into Death Valley on Hwy 178, the wide expanse of white salt flats reflect blindingly in the sunshine. Spring wildflowers line the roadsides and fields of flowers light up the seemingly lifeless rocky ground. Telescope Peak towers more than 12,000 feet above Badwater Basin, the lowest point in North America. Massive inclined plains of jumbled rock fan out at the mouth of each canyon. Everything seems larger than life and then you get out of the car to take a photo and have to catch yourself before you step on a delicate stem of wildflowers. You quickly get the feeling you could spend a lifetime in this extraordinary place and still never fully know it.

Precious water flows up from the ground and breathes life into this arid desert at Salt Creek. The endangered Death Valley Pupfish have adapted over the last 10,000 years to tolerate an ever dwindling body of water which is two to three times saltier than the ocean. The fish burrow into the mud and hibernate through the cold winter, breed in the early spring and then attempt to survive through the summer and fall as evaporating creek pools grow smaller and more saline. Most don't survive. That any of them could in a place where water temperatures regularly reach 112 degrees in the summer is a testament to the persistence of life.

For all its harsh extremes, the valley became a haven from city life for a Chicago couple named Albert and Bessilyn Johnson. Albert came to know and love the desert through his adventurous camping trips with an eccentric local character named Death Valley Scotty. His wife, on the other hand, wanted a much more civilized desert experience, so in 1922 they began building their dream vacation home in the style of an ancient Spanish castle. The extravagant refuge took more than ten years to build and spared no expense with the finest handcrafted construction.

In spite of her desire for opulence and comfort, Bessilyn fell in love with the simplicity of the desert once writing that, "Something about the clear desert atmosphere seems to make the moonlight brighter than anywhere else in the world, and to glorify it. And the great mountains rise in the splendor of it all. Moonlight in the Desert! You may have cities and electric lights, movies, dancing parties, and surging crowds; but for a thrill, an emotion, a sense of peace, and a confidence in a God who cares, give me moonlight in the Desert."

I may never feel a strong pull to return to Death Valley, but I can understand why some people do again and again, as each of us know the places that speak to our heart. What I will always remember are the surreal moments of beauty that you can only find in that valley. Experiencing complete silence in the middle of the white salt flats while watching the clouds and mountains turn pink at sunrise, seeing the unearthly topography of Devil's Golf Course stretching out to the horizon, and sleeping outside under a near full moon in the sand dunes on my birthday, feeling that same sense of peace that Bessilyn Johnson described.

Here are a few other photographic memories from our trip:

Sunrise at Mesquite Flats sand dunes

Stovepipe Wells campground by moonlight

Devil's Golf Course

Desert gold off Hwy 178 in mid-March