Hawaii
(The Big Island): March 6-16
Day 5, Volcanoes National Park
Chris looks out over the edge of the park
I
didn’t feel up for another early adventure the
next day,
so we slept in a bit and decided to spend the day visiting Volcanoes
National
Park. First we stepped across the street for a mocha at Daylight Mind
and wound
up ordering breakfast as well, enjoying the morning on the sunny
balcony and
the slices of fresh avocado, pineapple, and baby cress adorning our
plates.
When we returned to our room, the key pad (which had worked perfectly
so far)
refused us entry. We called the owner who sent us up to the security
desk for a
new code. Thankfully, helpful Dusty was there and we soon had a new
number to
try. It failed. We came back and she gave us another number to try
while she
was on the phone; it too failed. With mounting frustration, we returned
again
and waited for Dusty to get off the phone. She followed us back down to
our
room and managed to come up with a code that worked.
So by the time we were packed up and on the road,
it was
nearly noon. We headed south for the first time, into lush hillsides
quite
unlike the landscape and vegetation north of the town. Highway 11 is
narrow,
skirting the edge of the mountain at about 1,000 feet through small
towns
hugged by ancient trees, bursting with flowering shrubs, and adorned
with neat
rows of what we soon guessed were coffee trees. It was beautiful
country, if a
bit slow going at times. The Big Island, we realized yet again, is
really big!
It took us a surprising amount of time to round the southern tip of the
island
where the vegetation became sparser, pasture-like in some areas and
increasingly scrub-like as we turned east. Two hours after leaving the
hotel we
arrived at Volcano, stopped briefly at the visitor’s center, and
changed seats.
I immediately took a wrong turn and we wound up on the crater rim road
instead
of the chain of craters road. But, it only took us a few minutes to
drive all
the way to Kilauea crater (photo to right), one of two places where the
volcano was
active at
the time, so we got out and looked into the steaming chasm. A cloud of
sulphur
dioxide rose from within and drifted west, but it was too light to see
the lava
inside. On the way there we’d passed steam vents and watched (not
without a
little horror) the spectacle of tourists posing within arm’s reach of
the
steam.
We turned around (even if we wanted to continue in
that
direction, the road is closed due to toxic gases) and headed back past
the
visitors center and down the road in the other direction. The road was
a
delight—twisting amiably through a surprisingly jungely landscape, bird
song
erupting from all sides into the open convertible (perhaps one of the
best
features of the convertible). Apparently that area—so close to the
active
crater and nearby devastation—had avoided any recent contact with lava
and was
a mature rainforest (using that term lightly here). Our first stop was
the
Thurson lava tubes.
I had a bit of a stomach ache at that point, so I
lay down
in the back of the car for a few minutes; in the meantime, at least one
bus
full of tourists showed up, so by the time we hit the trail to the lava
tube it
was one long queue of shuffling humanity. Although I itched to walk
faster, it
was about as pleasant a place to linger as I could ask for. Giant tree
ferns (hapu’u)
dominated the landscape, with head-sized,
furry fiddleheads ready to
unfurl.
Bird song sprang from all around, but my attempts to see them entirely
failed.
The lava tube entrance was at the bottom of what looked like a round
gully (or
maybe a crater?) and we wound our way down past increasingly impressive
vegetation. At the bottom, the cave entrance dripped and loomed, small
ferns
clinging to the edges. It was wet and cool inside—with mud puddles here
and
there on the floor—mostly tall enough to stand up comfortably and about
ten
feet wide. In one place tree roots hung down several feet from the top.
In a
place like that, I could see how native Hawaiians could have used such
locations for collecting water “drip by drip” as I read in the brochure.
From there we drove a little farther and turned
onto the
Chain of Craters Road, which winds its way down from 4,000 feet to sea
level and
stops a mile from where a 2004 eruption flowed across the road and
closed it
for the foreseeable future. There are many stops along its 18 miles,
and I
hastily prioritized them, as I didn’t think we had time to see them
all. I’d
downloaded a stop-by-stop description of the road from the Instant
Hawaii
website (http://www.instanthawaii.com/cgi-bin/hawaii?Drives.chain),
the copy of which formed a large portion of my 28 page Hawaii cheat
sheet. Following
are descriptions of the stops we chose—I’m sure they’re all worth
seeing, and
are generally pretty short stops:
Puhimau Crater (.9 mile): The small parking lot
was
deserted—a good sign—and we walked just a few feet to gaze over the
edge of
this pit crater. Five hundred feet deep and about that width, it’s a
classic
pit crater, formed from the sudden draining of magma beneath the
surface and the
subsequent collapse at ground level. Often beginning life in the shape
of an
inverted funnel (larger underground), this crater, like many others,
had eroded
away into straight walls in the shape of an oval. We were excited (?)
to see
steam seeping from fissures in the far side which seemed to build as we
watched.
O’hia lehua trees with their bushy red flowers
bloomed
around us and the air was alive with the same red birds I’d caught
glimpses of
at the lava tube. This time I got a better look and watched them
feeding in the
o’hia flowers. After spending considerable time searching for them in
my bird
app (which does include them), I finally thought to look for them in
the lovely
park brochure which includes a drawing of local plants and animals and
a key to
identify them. Not surprisingly, I was able to quickly identify both
the ohi’a
plant and their occupants: ‘apapane birds, endemic to Hawaii!
Ko'oko'olau Crater (mile 1.5): We
pulled over to see what an older crater
looks like after 200 years of inactivity. The edge of the crater was
just off
the side of the road and was chock full of vegetation; I’m not sure it
would
have been immediately recognizable as a crater it was so dense. I
enjoyed the
old stone wall which formed a loose fence at the edge.
Pauahi Crater (mile 3.1): We also
had this crater all to ourselves when
we first arrived. A short trail allowed us to look down the enormous
(1800’ x 300’)
Pauahi Crater. Although the crater itself is old, it erupted in 1973
and 1979
and filled the bottom with lava, making a kind of lake of lava clearly
visible
over the bottom. Even more interesting than the crater and its
congealed lava
lake were the lava formations just behind us. Although signs asked us
to stay
on the trail, we followed the advice of the web site and strolled
through a
nearby fissure of lava where many others had clearly gone before.
Fissures in
that area had spewed lava in the past where it splashed onto existing
structures and created crazy formations in bright metallic colors (see
photo to right).
Our next stop was meant to be the
road to 'Ainahou Ranch which we
intended to walk in the hope of encountering the endangered, endemic
nene,
Hawaii’s beautiful relative of the Canada goose; nenes eat the berries
of the
‘ohelo, a relative of the blueberry, and have evolved into a more
terrestrial lifestyle
than their cousins. Herbert Shipman
built the ranch in 1914 and is largely
responsible for the recovery of the nene. However, the mileage ticked
by so
fast that we managed to miss the turnoff to the road (I was probably
distracted
by trying to identify the ‘apapane birds), which was unmarked, and
decided to
try it again on the way back.
Muliwai a Pele (mile 7.2): That
meant that our next stop was in the
middle of a lava field from a 1974 eruption. A muliwai is essentially a
lava
channel, a trough formed by flowing lava where the edges harden and
guide the
flow. When the eruption stops, the muliwai drains and the channel is
left
behind. I think this is how lava tubes form, too, but lava tubes have
hardened
over the top too. This was interesting, but not a particularly exciting
stop.
Not much farther along is a neat formation on the right side of the
road where
flowing lava forced a chunk of hardened lava up from below where it
juts above
the surrounding lava field at an angle.
From there the road began to drop
steeply toward the coastal plain. The
map of the park in the brochure, which looked so barren (compared to
the lush
tropical vegetation closer to Kilauea) suddenly captured the stark
landscape
perfectly. What wasn’t recent lava flows was sparsely vegetated with
grasses
and other low vegetation. A steep escarpment dropped to a flat plain of
devastation and the choppy ocean beyond. The view down over the plain
was a
good lesson in the formation of new land on the islands, one lava flow
after
another inching out into the ocean. As Chris wound down the tight
switchbacks,
I looked back at the steep slopes and the hardened lava that had poured
down,
frozen in time.
Not far after we leveled out again,
Chris spotted the pullout to the lava
tube tumulus (mile 14.9) I’d read about on my helpful web page but
which was
not marked or advertised by the park service.
A tumulus is a lava tube that has been pushed upwards above the
surrounding ground by pressure buildup inside, forming a hill. We first
climbed
on top and along it, astonished at the lush vegetation growing inside
the holes
(skylights) that had crumbled away. The biggest one was grown up in
ferns; a
smaller hole had ti plants growing out of the top. The web page
suggests that
the ti plants may have been planted as offerings by Native Hawaiians.
It did
seem surprising that the seeds and spores of such plants would
accidentally
make their way into these few hospitable environments in the desiccated
coastal
plain, but it doesn’t seem impossible either. Just the fact that a
relatively
small cavern could produce enough moisture to harbor such plants was
amazing.
After walking along the top, Chris
discovered a ground-level entrance to
the same tube on the opposite side of the road and then a large ground
level
opening to the main tube back on the original side which we had
entirely missed
in the beginning. We crawled in a few feet, noticing the stalactites of
what I assume
was cooling lava undulating across the ceiling.
Pu'u Loa Petroglyph Field (mile
15.9): In the middle of the coastal
plain, we pulled over alongside several other vehicles and began a
¾ mile walk
to the largest petroglyph field on the island, the location of
thousands of
petroglyphs. The walk itself, though stifling, was pleasant and
interesting.
The trail was discernable but subtle on the landscape, often marked by
cairns.
Tufts of grass and other low, arid vegetation grew amid lava rocks and
patches
of sand. An interpretive sign pointed out an area where native
Hawaiians had
grown tubers among rocks they’d piled in a little corner against a
mound of
lava rock where moisture would collect. At the end of the trail, a
small
boardwalk looped through the field, hundreds of petroglyphs around it.
The
field extended well beyond the boardwalk, but we obeyed the guidance to
leave
it alone. My favorite petroglyphs were the human figures. Some of the
others I
couldn’t interpret at all, but the vast majority were small circular
divots,
sometimes encased by full circles, sometimes carved in a line,
sometimes making
part of a circle themselves. An interpretive sign explained that the
umbilical
cord of Hawaiians from that region were traditionally buried in a divot
with a
stone placed over the top. Presumably, most of the stones had long
since
scattered, but we did see a few suspiciously out of place stones in the
area.
By the time we got back to the car
we were hot and thirsty and the day
was winding down. Since no lava at that time was flowing into the ocean
or
anywhere near where we could see it (other than in the crater we’d
already seen
it was above ground in only one very isolated spot to the east), we
decided not
to finish the drive to the coast. The road is blocked a mile from where
the
2004 flow crossed the road, and we didn’t have the time to make that
walk even
if it was inspiring (pictures would have been neat, but we had other
things to
see).
And so I took the wheel and headed
back up the road. A few miles shy of
the turnoff to the ranch I saw an oncoming car swerve toward my side of
the
road a little and spotted the nene he’d avoided on the side. It was a
fleeting
look, but recognizable. In retrospect I wish very much that I’d turned
around
for another pass, but we were still expecting to see some at the ranch.
Unfortunately, a sign was posted that the area was closed until further
notice.
Though no one was there to enforce it, we obeyed and left the park.
By that time it was late in the
afternoon, but we kept our eyes peeled
each time we saw another nene sign. Just as we passed one, Chris saw a
likely
candidate on the side of the road, so I turned around as soon as I
found a good
place and we actually found the bird crossing it. I saw it on the
asphalt and
Chris had a better look as it disappeared into the bushes on the
opposite side.
My guess is that it was a game bird of some kind, but it wasn’t quite
right for
a goose. We turned around and sped our way to the turnoff to Punalu’u
Beach,
reaching it at dusk. The last of the beach goers were fleeing as we
pulled up,
but we trudged down the beach in the fading light. Sure enough, I
spotted a
turtle in the middle of a large ring of rocks behind a sign that
indicated we
should stay at least 18 feet from any sea turtles. Closer to the water,
three
other turtles rested on the black sand at the head of some channels
through the
lava rock. It was nearly dark by then, but I was happy to have seen the
beach
and the turtles who come to rest on the warm black sand.
The rest of the ride back was a
long marathon in the dark. The road was
unlighted and, perhaps for the first time, I really appreciated the
multitude
of reflective lights on the road and the road signs, which lit up the
night
like a space ship as I drove. Taking into account time lost for chasing
nenes
and the stop at Punalu’u, I think I made the drive in two hours and
fifteen
minutes. Having only snacked for lunch, we were both pretty hungry by
the time
we approached Kailua and were dreaming of Ultimate Burger. Chris
checked to see
if they were open (they were—until 9:00) and we cruised in for dinner
around
8:30. Having driven with the top down for a couple of hours, I was
chilled
enough to order the chili with melted cheese on top. Yum!
Puhimau Crater (steam in the middle bottom)