Of Tiger, Lava and Ed

While I enjoyed a masalada from Punalu‘u’s Bake Shop (“southernmost Bakery in the US’) Jeff, my lava tour guide, was t-boned in a Hilo intersection 50 miles away.  These two events effected the weekend.  Instead of stuffing my face with a creamy vanilla treat I could have checked my email and learned that my lava tour – a two to three hour one way trek to see molten lava spill forth into the ocean – had been cancelled for the night. Instead, I jumped back on the road destined for Volcano Village where I’d check into a cabin before heading south pass Pahoa to reconnoiter a boat launch a Hale Isaac Beach.   Finding the launch in broad daylight would save me precious sleep time on early Sunday morning. At least this was the plan. I found the 4 am meeting site for the boat tour at the end of a twisted narrow single lane road. Next, I hurried off to the End of the Road about 16 miles away.  Here the eruptions from Kilauea long ago consumed attempts to circumnavigate the island with pavement.  If I had known Jeff ended up in the hospital I would have detoured to Green Beach for a hike and some body surfing, my plans for Saturday.  

Instead, Friday’s events changed my weekend plans. Not the masalada, but his accident.  I expected to hike Friday evening to where the lava flowed into the ocean. On Saturday I planned to go to Green Beach and on Sunday morning a boat trip to sea lava.  Now Green Beach was out and the hike and boat trip were crammed together Saturday night and Sunday morning. I wasn't angry or frustrated.  I had tried for years to see lava and tigers.  Both have been elusive. Maybe it wasn't in my karma. What would one more day mean?  

It rained most of the Friday night.  The 4000 foot elevation cools Volcano Village nights and Mauna Loa keeps it wet.  In the tiny cabin I had rented I buried myself under two thick wool blankets, the weight pinning me to the bed where an electric pad took the damp coolness out of the sheets. Darkness crept quietly out the fern forest beyond the cabin’s lanai.  Crickets and other insects hummed in the depths of night.  By morning the birds’ symphony replaced the insects’. The light drumming rain did not stop. It didn’t matter to me. The day had to be easy and relaxed.  No super hikes to converse my energy for the night followed by a very early boat tour.  

 

I wandered up Mauna Loa Road a narrow ribbon that climbs the flank of the largest mass of mountain in the world. Mauna Kea is the tallest, but Mauna Loa is the largest. The ascent takes you through kiawe and lowland shrubs, up through forests of Ohia lehua, over barren rubble of lava flows through lust green woods and stark grey standing dead timbers.  The diverse climates compacted within such a short space.   The 15 miles road stops well short of the summit.  In a stunted forest at 6668 the hiking trail gently leads to the summit. It's a good two day hike.  But I was just to dream of the summit and take in the panoramic vistas below. Except for one lone car parked here, but I saw no evidence of others. Alone to enjoy the solitude.

As I rounded the corner of a tiny picnic shelter I came face to face with a tiger.  Knowing my poor luck in seeing lava and tigers a friend wished me luck in finding both on my birthday.  The striped cat made me laugh as if someone played a joke on me.  On a rock wall perched a stuffed toy tiger. Its beady eyes and silly grin stared at me in seemingly equal surprise.  I have wanted to see tiger in the wild.  I never expected to find one in Hawaii. I brought the little guy home with me to play with my bunny rabbits. 

By 4 that afternoon, I returned to the End of the Road. Ed, the local resident of whatever the village on the lava is called, sat on the trunk of his beater car. He slipped on a pair of socks preparing for our trek. Yes, it was now going to happen. After all these years. After all the tries. I was finally going to see lava flowing, and on my birthday!

When anyone wants to see lava from the county side (verses the National Park side) they have to cross private land before reaching beach access which is open to anyone. The private land entry is guarded by a security force hired by the county of Hawaii.  They  prevents the random tourist from walking through the property where the most crazy people buy and build structures completely off the grid – no utilities what so ever. Most of these structures are mere house shells, simple frames and skins that resemble Tennessee zoning codes - none.  When you can wake up any morning to find lava flowing down your driveway you don’t invest too much in the building structure.  The houses are of every shape, size and color.  They sit on treeless, green-less black lava flows, under a beating sun and in a wind that rarely stops to take a breath. Solar panels roost on roof tops and wind mills blades scream constantly in the wind.  The road that cuts a large U through the scattered houses is a crushed red cinder. Its dust settled on the inside and outside of my car almost immediately.  Ed's piece of paradise among the fifty-odd other residents goes for $300 a month.  

I asked if I could use the bathroom before we left.  He turned the water on so I could flush. I couldn’t close the bathroom door completely because from the corner of the door hung a closet’s worth of clothes. I took a quick look around. Open studs on the outside wall.  Electrical wiring snaked through the joists to the rocker panel light switch.  There was a shower area behind a curtain. A post card from Maui posed five girls with their tight round butts facing the camera. Ed was an ass man.  Before leaving the house I glanced at the carefully potted marijuana plants that lined the livingroom beneath his large picture window. 

Ed wore the exact same tie-dyed shirt he had on the previous day.  My sister called to wish me Happy Birthday as we headed down the cinder road. The wind made hearing my sister difficult. I was surprised we even had a connection. To reduce some of the noise, Ed switched to the up-wind side. I assumed Ed had worn the shirt more than just yesterday.  Made a mental note to stay up wind.

While picking our way through the “yards” of the community I saw the white billows rising from the coast. Our destination. I estimated it to be about three miles as the crow flies.  Longer on foot.  To be honest, I had little expectations of seeing any lava. Great hope, but little expectations.  Even as we headed toward the steam clouds I knew several things could prevent me from seeing the lava.  Its location could be hidden behind cliffs. The wind could trap the steam cloud over the lava. I could fall and break my neck before arriving – or after wards too.  Ed could be the total hippie flake I expected him to be and never get me there.  He already had my $100.

It takes a different kind of person to live out here. These are private loners who have gotten away from something, someone or some place.  While they share a community, they don’t readily share with the outside.  Nevertheless like all humans there is a need to socialize.  It was tough cracking Ed’s veneer.  When I asked him where he was from he responded, “my mother.” I laughed and said, “Oh a wise guy, huh?”  I let the ocean roar fill the voids of silence and the wind carry thoughts away. He finally said California.  Pieces of his life slowly filled gaps between carefully placed footsteps and pauses to absorb vistas.  It was brain cancer that sent him off to live where and how he lives. Later when the doctors couldn’t find any trace of it they asked what he had done. He said, “Got off your drugs and went sailing.”  Oh Boy. A sailor. He even used the word trippie and I suppressed my flashbacks.

Ed showed me where old lava covered new. The 1960 flows, The 80’s. Last year’s. Where old cinder cones eroded to their basalt core. Where lava shelves and domes collapsed.  We hugged the coast line, not the place where the guided tours trekked. The hike was longer, but he claimed smoother.  In places we walked on green sand. Then we paused in the shade of a huge cliff to wait. He wanted to be sure other guides were out here. If reports were that it was not safe due to new breakouts the tours wouldn’t run. He didn’t want to discover that accidentally. While we waited the man who would not take me on the lava after a beer broke out his bowl and marijuana. As he lit up his weed he commented, “Yeah I stopped doing drugs of any kind years ago.”  He did not offer me any.  I assumed it was medicinal.  But from that point I really paid attention to everything. And he became more talkative. He talked about the woman that the fishermen found a couple weeks ago. I had read about the body found floating in the water. 

 

The first time I saw red lava, I got the camera out and as I took the shot, a breakout on the upper cliff occurred. I was so excited as the flow drooled down the cliff to the sea. I apologized for acting like a little kid. “Hey, it’s your birthday.”  He seemed pleased that I got such a thrill out of the sight.

We arrived at an upper breakout. I was overwhelmed by the senses. Excited but cautious.  I watched a boy poke at the lava that had skimmed over and turned silvery gray.  He twisted the stick to reveal the thick glow of red that ignited his stick.  Heat filled the air in a way I had never experienced. To the eye the source was not apparent for it was from black lava on which we were standing.  I wasn’t just feeling heat. I was in the heat. On the heat.  The heavy air smelled of burning rock, not so much sulfur although that was part of it too. And the fresh lava crackled as it cooled.  We moved off the hot spot toward the cliff above the ocean entry. Immediately it felt as if I stepped off something that was alive.

We waited for the sun to fall behind Kilauea to reveal the spooky awesomeness in the battle between the sea and the lava.  Although after millions of years five huge mountains have risen from the depths of the ocean floor to form the Big Island of Hawaii, they are destine to sink back into the ocean from which they came. The sea wins every time.

I had packed trail mix to snack on. My guide had the munchies. He consumed it like a tiger on raw meat. I suppressed my laughter.  I had been so absorbed in watching the lava that when I turned around to retrieve my bottle of water, I was completely surprised by the number of people behind me. Ed and I sat at the ledge but away from the upper break out. Everyone else sat the next outcropping behind us. When one young man ventured ahead of us and even closer to the cliff a guide came over to retrieve him.

I wanted to begin the hike back when there was still a bit of daylight. My eyes and feet coordination would adjust easier.  From my caving experiences I knew the first few minutes inside a cave is a little disorienting when darkness shuts down senses. I always feel clumsy looking for the ground.  When you walk you rarely pay attention to foot placement.  Now every step mattered.  Headlights on the new lava sparkled. What didn’t sparkle were holes and cracks.  I never fell, but stumbled a few times catching myself with my hiking poles. A few times I accidentally stuck a pole tip into an empty space.

I became disoriented. The ocean was on the left, not the right side.  Ed was back-tracking. Going out the destination had been the red glow and billowing clouds. Returning, there was nothing to sight on but darkness. The upper ridge of Kilauea disappeared. The ocean disappeared. The lava beyond my head lamp disappeared. Only the stars, the wind and the ocean's roar remained in this world. We approached the jungle – the remnants that have been able to avoid eruptions. I made out  faint silhouettes of coconut trees. The distant whispers of insects and coqui, the tiny invasive frog with an ear-piercing chip, could be heard.  The closer we came the louder the sounds, but still I could see no lights expect the flashlights of other people returning from the lava flow.  

About 9 pm we crossed the cinder road and emerged in the village. Ed invited me in to use the bathroom and have a drink of water. He drew a map for me to get out of the community. I couldn’t believe how freaking dark it was. I was concerned that I wasn’t going to be able to find my way out. Before I left he sang Happy Birthday in a decent cocktail lounge voice and gave me a big hug.