Aloha and Mahalo! (translation: “Hi and Thank you!”)
Those are the two words I learned in Hawaii, and feel that, knowing them, I could blend in with the locals and no one would be suspect . . . aside from the bright red hair, blinding white skin, the zinc oxide smeared on my face, the full-coverage bathing suit and the oh-so-Minn-eh-sooo-tah accent, seriously, no one would be the wiser. Our trip was very nice, though too short, as vacations always are. That sounds odd, “kind of nice,” when speaking of Maui, doesn’t it? I don’t know whether to laugh my ass off or cry a river, as we, once again, encountered “once in a lifetime” weather conditions in Hawaii, as we have the previous two winter vacations we’ve taken!
A little aside: two years ago, we took our very first winter vactation to Sedona, AZ, where we had three feet (yes, feet, not inches) of snow dumped on us – roads to the Grand Canyon were closed and we were stranded for an extra day in Sedona before we decided, “We’re from MN, dammit! We can drive through this sissy, slushy shit!” and, all warnings be damned, made our way to the GC, knee-deep snow and all – super cool pictures to go along with that tale . . . last spring, in Santa Fe, NM, more snow, though not of such epic proportions, but snow, nonetheless. Sooooo, in the Christmas letter I sent out this year (did you get yours? If not, send your snail mail or e-mail address to me and I'll be sure to pass along a copy of Christmas Novel 2007), I mentioned our upcoming trip to HI, and jokingly said, “If it’s snowing in Maui, you’ll know we’re there!” So, with that, I begin the saga . . .
For the love of God and small children, it eff-ing SNOWED on MAUI!!! I am NOT making this up! Seriously, this was a news-worthy snowfall, and again, we have the pics to prove it! Granted, it was on top of Haleakela Crater (an ancient, dormant volcano), and with an altitude of 10,000 feet, it does occasionally get a dusting of snow here and there in winter, though the rest of the island might be balmy and idyllic. The kicker is that, while we’re there, the national park on top of the mountain closed for the first time in something like 35 years, due to all the snow and ice! Why does this affect us, when we’re miles away, relaxing on the beaches of Ka’anapali, in 75+ degree (albeit windy) temps, you ask? Because on that day, we got up at three eff-ING a.m. (in the morning, in case you were unclear about that) to make the 2 ½ hour drive to the top of the mountain. To view the sunrise. “Why the hell?” you ask? Because we’re nuts, I reply. And, because Haleakela Crater is purported to be the sight of an astounding view to behold: a sunrise so surreal and magnificent that, according to legend (and guide books), when witnessed at the rim of the ancient crater, above the clouds, the colors and intensity of the sunset are so powerful that . . . (drum roll) . . . people damn near have visions from God, aliens, or other such life-altering experiences. So. That was our vision quest. To see the sunrise from the top of Haleakela. And maybe see God. Or ET. Or to be rid of this awful rash that’s creeping across my back . . . and it could have happened, if it weren’t for that meddling Mother Nature . . . DAMN her!!!
At any time of the year, it’s much colder up there than anywhere else on the island, especially at 5 a.m. with fierce winds comin' atcha. But, being from MN (and considering it was 15 below zero when we left MN for HI), and being we had read guide books ahead of time, we had polar fleece, mittens and long jonnies in our possession. So, before we head out, we call the local weather service for conditions and sunrise times and, given no reason to believe otherwise, make way for the hills.
½ way up the way up the mountain, still enveloped in way-too-early morning blackness, we’re startled by a flashing road sign that tells us that the park is closed due to hazardous weather. “Hazardous weather on this part of the island?” we ask, incredulously. “Whatever,” we scoff Mutha N., and keep driving, figuring that being from MN, we can “bust the gates doing 98”, and make our way up to the summit, as we did in AZ, hazardous weather be damned. Short lived that decision was, as we were stopped by park officials at 7000 feet, telling us that we can’t proceed any further – roads are closed due to seriously icy conditions (evidently, they don’t have a fleet of orange dump trucks filled with sand and salt on Maui on hand for such occasions. . . we’re not in Minnesota anymore, Toto . . .). Sooooo . . . we turn around and make the eff-ing hour and ½ drive (imagine, if you will, a long, winding road, lacing the back of the mountain like a corset, in total darkness) back to Kahalui at the base of the mountain, grab a coffee and blueberry scone at the local coffee shack and assess the situation. It’s 6:30 a.m. In hindsight, we should have just gone back to the condo and called it a day. But high altitude, frigid temps and lack of sleep tend to mar the decision-making process. What the hell. We decide, since we’re out this way already, we’ll just do the Hana Highway, a legendary strip of narrow blacktop that hugs the cliffs of the northern Maui shoreline, through rainforest terrain, across 1 lane bridges, maneuvering through 600+ twists and turns, for 50+ miles down to the costal village of Hana. Mind you, this drive takes several hours in good weather. And then, we’d have to turn around at some point and do the same drive in reverse, as an earthquake in recent years has rendered parts of the highway impassable. At 6 a.m., we'll beat the Hana Highway crowds - let's go!
So, what do we encounter on our drive to Hana? Torrential, ferocious rainfall, all 50+ miles of the drive . . . near wash-out conditions along the way: peaceful streams turned ferocious, powerful bowels of nature regurgitating red, frothy water across the road - the Linda Blair of nature . . . waterfalls that have morphed from breathtaking streams of water gently tumbling down the mountainside to full-force gushes of violent brown sludge gouging the valleys of the Hana Highway deeper and deeper into the mountainside . . . I guess that’s what “they” mean by “rainforest . . .”
It truly was all I could do from breaking down and booking the next flight off the island. I tried so hard not to be, but I was tired, wet, muddy and pissed as all get out by the time we got to Hana. In near silence, after being up for a half a day already (and it was only 1 p.m.), we snagged two plate lunches (a local thing) from a family fundraising tent at the edge of town, took our grub to the seaside and ate in near silence, watching the water crashing the shoreline in absolute fury. I swear, it was the best meal I've wolfed down in a coon's age: fat shrimp tangled with colorful peppers, green beans and onions in tender pasta, gently soaked in a light white sauce . . . Bob had sweet, juicy bbq chicken, with a mound of sticky white rice and creamy macaroni salad. After filling our bellies, our dispositions seemed to even out a bit (not much, just a bit), and, by a stroke of good fortune bestowed upon us from the Hawaiian goddess Pele (to whom I was praying every inch of that drive), we were blessed with near perfect weather on the trip back. Talk about taking your breath away . . . rainbows arcing across the ocean and spanning rich green valleys, lush, tropical rainforest enveloping us, crashing waves on the rough lava shores hundreds of feel below, temps in the 70’s . . . I felt like I was driving in a postcard . . . Maui was experiencing fluke weather all winter (Nov. to about March or so) – lots of rain, constant wind . . . the temps were very pleasant – upper 70’s and sunny, and only occasional rain for the most part, where our resort was, but the waters were very choppy and churning – not enticing for a dip or snorkeling or much of anything else, and hiking was out of the question, as many trails were closed due to weather conditions. But, whadda you do? You make the best of the situation, eat lots of great local grub, take a whale watching boat ride, partake in a luau, drink mai tais, pina coladas and other sickly sweet cocktails when you normally otherwise wouldn’t, soak up the sights and take lots of pictures for proof back home . . .
So, it was a bittersweet vacation. Nice to get away, nice to relax and do things most people don’t do while on Maui, but the weather prevented doing lots of things we really wanted to do. Anyhow, as usual, the rambling has taken over, and must be reeled in for the night . . .
Aloha and Mahalo!
