Tourist

If you visit Paris, you go to the Eiffel Tower. If in Seattle, the Space Needle and New York City calls with the Empire State Building. It is the tourist thing to do.

Tourist swarm the sandy beaches of Waikiki. From the warm waters and their reclines on the hotel verandas, Diamond Head beckons them to come for a short hike on a narrow trail. To see the view. To spot their hotel.

It is only a short 561 feet up from the parking lot which sits in the floor of the Le’ahi Crater.

The little trail begins on the street and trickles up the road that leads to the parking lot, where tourist don ball caps, take off their shirts and slather on sun screen for the short trek. At first trekkers are nicely strung out along a paved trail resembling a sidewalk in Anywhere, USA. Three tourist here. A solo hiker here.

Destination – the summit. As the trail narrows, leaving the pavement behind, it rises to the bunkers built along the rim in 1915.

The tourist treks a thin path that begins to choke when those with less stamina slow their pace, take in a view, dab sweat from their brow. Those descending compete with those who are ascending for the uneven footing along the narrow trail. As the climb up the first set of stairs begins people begin to stack up. 74 stairs lead to the first tunnel, a small dark 225 foot passage through lava. People pause to catch their breath.

Ants. Like an ant trail leading to the crumbs on a counter top, or to the bowels of a kitchen cabinet, the clog of humanity threads its way to the ultimate sugar cube – the view of Waikiki. But first another set of stairs. 99. Next a 54 metal spiral staircase to emerge in a bunker before the tourist is released to the summit. Tight quarters with too many people. I tried hard to ignore the swarm.

Sometimes traveling with Dad is like traveling with a mini-celeb. Wearing his Battle of the Bulge hat attracts attention, but so does the little gray haired man who doesn’t seem to be puffing any more than the average climber. In fact, he seemed less winded than some, although his climb to the summit was at a slower pace.

When we reached the top, a woman who had seen us at the bottom exclaimed, “You made it.”

Several asked Dad how old. Eighty-four got a small round of applause. And so did the fact that he was a WWII vet.