Parting Shot of Waimea Canyon

I'm having a really hard time believing that I leave Kauai tomorrow evening. This isn't the end of the blog...I have to develop the shots of yesterday's trip still. I'm torn between being very sad about leaving and very excited to see New York friends again (and I have to admit, I am very much looking forward to having electricity and running water again). How lucky I am to have had the experiences I've had and met the people I've met, in New York, in Colorado, and here on Kauai. Tonight I'm sending aloha to everyone I love, on whatever piece of land they find themselves.

Views of Kalalau Valley

We drove up the road by Waimea Canyon to Koke'e Park one day, and then up to the Kalalau Valley lookout. I hadn't seen the valley from the top before, and it was great to see it so soon after hiking inside the valley. I could see, looking down, why this valley was considered sacred--the pictures really don't do it justice. I stopped by again today, as part of my saying good-bye to Kauai. Yesterday I was very lucky to take a boat trip up the Na Pali Coast and see the valley from a third perspective. The captain said that the Hawaiians were so connected to the ocean that they believed that heaven was under water. I thought of that today looking down into Kalalau Valley. The clouds hung low over the valley, and it was hard to tell what was sky and what was sea.

Spouting Horn

Visitor to Hawaii

Week before last I had a guest here (I'm always so behind in getting the pics up)...this was taken at Spouting Horn, which is a place where the ocean water spews up through holes formed by gas as it escaped out of the cooling lava. The lei is made from ti leaves and some kind of purple flower (forget which now--the ti leaves were the intriguing part to me). He was very sweet about wearing it two nights in a row...The teenage guy whose opinion I'd asked on which lei to buy (he was the only guy in the store) implied that guys don't like to wear flowers, but the owner of the shop told me that the men she'd given leis to loved getting flowers, and that they generally were really happy to wear them. Either the owner was right, or Steve was being very sweet.

Final Shot of Kalalau

Kalalau Adventures

My first day there I just lay around recovering from the hike. (I had fallen and had some cuts that I was having trouble keeping clean and the day before that I had busted my foot on the reef while trying to surf, and had sunburns on the backside of my body. Fortunately some nurses were present to tell me that nothing was getting infected.) The next day, rejuvenated, I borrowed snorkel gear from my neighbors and explored the sea caves. Then this hippie guy who lived there led me into the valley. (This is the kind of place where people go by names like "Free.") There are a lot of mango trees, pools, and waterfalls. When I left him I ran into my neighbors, who had met a group that had kayaked in. Kayaking is the way to go, I have to say. They were finishing up lunch by a waterfall and offered me a Guinness that had been cooling in the waterfall. The whole group of us hiked up the ridge, which was called Spirit Ridge, to see the view. We stayed up there until sunset and then I joined them in one of the caves where they were camping for a dinner of Mexican food, tequila, and chocolate-covered pecans. It sure beat the ramen I'd brought, and they had a little stereo to play jazz and solar-powered lamps.

The next day I headed back to Princeville to pick up Dasher. My first stop, however, was for a big plate lunch of fish and chips. All I wanted was some good protein and a beer. My plate lunch provided the protein, and Dean offered me a beer, reading my mind, when I stopped to get Dasher. Kalalau is a hard place to leave...it's one of the most incredible places I've ever seen.

My Campsite

I was very proud of my little setup. I covered my camping hammock with sarongs so that the strings wouldn't dig in too much and then hung a tarp over everything to provide shade and protect me from rain. Everyone was very friendly; I made friends with a pair next to me who live in Kapa'a right now, Dan and Da'nae. He was a young journalist who had been fired from the Garden Island paper for doing too good a job on a piece involving the chief of police and corruption; she was a college student from San Francisco. It was the first time anyone had asked me about my major in a long, long time.

Arrival

I was very happy to finally reach this sign. It says, first in Hawaiian and then in English: "This is sacred land. Give it your utmost care. Respect it and leave knowing you have preserved it for future generations."

When I reached the beach, some hippies who live up there called me up to a communal campground on one of the heliports. They gave me some polenta they had made (served on a banana leaf), a mango (the valley was full of them), and some water. Then a college kid took me down to the campsites, showing me the waterfall where everyone bathes, brushes their teeth, and gets their water (I used a filter) and the eco-toilets. I set up a camp for the first night on the edge of the campground because all the sites were full. All night long I heard things walking around very near me, and the next morning another camper, who probably heard me lifting my tarp to call out, "Who's there?" several times, told me that the goats walk around there at night. They'd apparently had the same experience their first night. He told me they were leaving (they were a group of 12), and pointed out a good spot near the beach, with a fire pit and some privacy.

Nearly to Kalalau...

The last five miles are the driest; the trail winds precariously right along the cliffs. The wind carries a lot of sand, but fortunately I had sunglasses. I did discover, however, that straw cowboy hats are amazingly aerodynamic. I recommend other headwear.

River Crossing, Hanakapi'ai

Hanakapi'ai Beach

Hanakapi'ai Beach is the first stop along the trail, about 2 miles in. As you can see from the fact that they keep a count of the number of people who have died there, swimming is discouraged.

View of the Na Pali Coast

To reach Kalalau, you hike along the Na Pali Coast, going in and out of 5 different valleys as you hike ("pali" means "cliffs"). This is the view toward the beginning of the hike.

Kalalau Trailhead

Two weeks ago I did a hike into Kalalau Valley, which can only be reached on foot, by boat, or by helicopter. This is the sign at the trailhead, warning of possible difficulties in the trail and urging that hikers use appropriate footwear. The trail was built in the 1880s, but similar trails were previously built by native Hawaiians. It's an 11-mile hike to Kalalau Valley and Beach, sometimes right along the ocean. It's said to be one of the premier hikes in the world; people come from all over to do it and the trail was packed with people of all nationalities. (The Sierra Club ranks it a 9 on a scale of 1-10 in terms of difficulty. National Geographic's Adventure Magazine rates it number 4 on its top 11 trails of the world.) Only a certain number of people are allowed to hike it or camp there each day; a permit is required. Despite this, 30-40 people can be found living there at any given time. Kalalau has an unofficial mayor and used to have a library.

You Know You've Been in the Shack Too Long...

Last night's community radio program on Big Band Jazz inspired me to teach Dasher how to dance. But if you think Ginger Rogers had it hard, try doing everything Fred did backwards, with paws and a tail. Dasher thought it was just a pretty fun game, but I tell you, if she can get her times step down, we're taking this show on the road.

Here Dasher takes a much-deserved dinner break. She complained that all the carbs backstage were making her fat, so we've switched caterers.

(Note: no animals were abused in the staging of this number. Actually, Dasher just assumed tap dancing was a version of her favorite game, chase, but inside instead of out.)

Mystical Cows

The cow experience (picture "borrowed" from Ask Jeeves) stayed with me and made its way not only into this blog, but into poetry as well. Enough people commented on my cows blog that I thought I'd include this draft of the poem here. No one's read it yet, so there are probably some things that don't make 100% sense--that's a common problem in my poetry in the early stages. But everyone has been so supportive of this blog that I thought I'd risk a little misunderstanding and share the work.

It's also fitting because I've mostly been working on poetry lately, revising the poetry I've written since I came here and then my whole manuscript for fall book contests. It's looking really different now, with my tree farm poems, and I have to say, I like them so much (perhaps a reflection of how much I've enjoyed being here) that I wish I had a whole book of them.


The Patient Expressions of Mystical Cows


They part around the house at midnight,
silvered by the silver air,

this night of half-moon, starlight
sometimes diminished by clouds,

lowing to each other as they climb the hill.
They have gone through fences,

ransacked the lemon tree,
overturned mop buckets, and left

ragged shadows in their wake.
They follow each other dumbly

through guinea grass and cane,
galloping from the empty frame

of my field into another.
Only the goats could explain

their escape from where
they should have been sleeping,

into my dream and back again,
for there is no break in the fence,

only a trail leading down and back up.
So an old farmer innocently prays

over a breakfast of coffee, a roll,
for his soul and the health of his cows,

who are without bells in the clear dawn.
When they shake their heads

it is only to upset flies
and urge sharp-beaked angels on.

Coconut Tree

Front Porch

A picture of the front porch of the shack (yes, trying to use up a roll of film). I've since added a tiki torch, which helps with mosquitos and adds atmosphere. At first I was afraid that that "atmosphere" would be straight out of Animal House, but Delpha's "Love Is the Answer" sign (not visible) balances it out.

The little shed on the right contains the generator, which I use to operate the pump that pushes the water up to the solar containers above, which heat water for my showers. To the right of the generator shed you can see part of one of the tanks that store water from the roof (you can see the white "rubbermaid" logo). Just to the left of generator shed, below my rag, is a little brown package. This is a ti leaf (also called "ki"; K and T are interchangeable in Hawaiian, as are R and L, so that "taro" is also "kalo") wrapped around a rock, which is how Hawaiians offer prayers, like Mexican retablos. This was given to Gay when she had the tree farm blessed in a traditional Hawaiian ceremony.

This picture is too small to show all my super-expensive Dr. Haushka and Aveda products. It still cracks me up to see all that nice product sitting on the porch of a shack.

Mel

There are a couple of caves around the sinkhole. Here, Mel stands in one of them. Mel and Vera were the Sierra Club members who got me involved in the volunteer work.

Sinkhole Pics

Hello everyone--sorry to be so long in posting anything. I did a trip to Kalalau, which was amazing (pics to follow soon) and then had a visitor, but I'm eager to start catching up here, especially since I recently realized that I'll be coming home soon. This picture, and the two that follow, are of the sinkhole where I've done some volunteer work.

The professors who are working here (coincidentally both from Fordham) have been doing core samples in the sinkhole, which was once a freshwater lake, and then using the findings to restore the area to the native vegetation as much as possible. As it turns out, his findings haven't necessarily matched the traditional understanding of what was here before humans. In general this approach to restoration has been controversial, but is becoming more accepted now.

In the core samples they have identified 40-43 species of indigenous birds, 16 of which are now extinct, and 7 of which were unknown before. They have also discovered 12 now-extinct snails, an endemic gull, an extinct honey creeper, a land crab, a bat, and a long-legged owl. He is also growing a kind of plant above the cave whose roots help nourish two endangered cave-dwelling species, which live there.

The caves were sacred burial grounds for the Hawaiians, and Dr. Burney has been in touch with the great-granddaughter of the last kahuna to be buried there, who owns the spiritual rights to the cave (though not the legal rights). She gave Dr. Burney permission to do his work on the land, which he is leasing from the current legal owner, provided that he limit traffic and not allow any kind of extraneous spiritual activities. Apparently it was being used for new agey type rituals before he leased it.