As
I write this in my home near Seattle, I'm listening to a tape of Isreal
Kamakawiwo'ole (Kahmahkah vee vo olay) singing, literally, his heart out - Iz
was a huge man at 600 lbs. He sang beautiful songs of Hawaii with a
powerful feeling of love for his islands and his people, and projected that
same warmth to all the island visitors that came to hear his music. His heart
failed him, finally, but his life and love for Hawaii is preserved in his
music, and providesme a perfect backdrop against which I can recall the idle miles ridden
here through a paradise.
Because of the high latitude, dawn in the Pacific Northwest is
a slow process as the sun ascends as much across as above the Cascade range.
Morning twilight eases the dawn tenderly along, giving the body an opportunity
to awaken with the day. The morning chorus of song birds begins with a soft
twitter of an early riser and is soon a cacophony of avian cheer. Here in
Hawaii, the sun balloons up from the edge of the world abruptly, without
fanfare, and with little opportunity for song birds to do more than gargle a
few notes before seeking out a bit of shade and a morning breakfast. I'm still
on left coast time and am up with the sun, looking forward to today's ride.
My wife Nancy (Big Red) is up a bit slower but we make the 7:30am pickup time.
Across Palani Road from the King Kamehameha Hotel is DJ's were
I've rented a black 2000 Heritage Softtail. After filling out all the
paperwork I throw a leg over it, hit the thumb kicker, and the v-twin rumbles
to life. The engine is already warmed up and ready to roll, but before I drop
it into gear I check it over. No vibration. None. The counter-balanced engine
is smooth as silk, and while there is a lot of machine noise coming from all
the extra parts that defeat the characteristic softtail vibration, the exhaust
noise is all but absent. If I close my eyes I can imagine I am astride a
4-banger Yamahondasaki. Sorry, Harley-Davidson, but this machine has no
personality. It is significantly lower than my '99 Road King which suits my
short legs just fine, the front end has more rake and so is a bit heavier
handling and over-steers some, but the pull-back bars are comfortable and I am
immediately adapted to the machine as I drop it into gear and we head down
Ali`i Drive. I've had the windshield removed so we can embrace all that the
Big Island's roads offer one's senses.
To
our right is historic Kamakahonu Cove - Kamehameha's home at the time of his
death and where today they reenact the spirit of aloha with a lu`au and garden
dinner show. Continuing along Ali`i Drive we catch a bit of ocean spray as
waves break upon the old sea wall. Overhead, centuries old banyan trees offer
relief from the already oppressive sun. Kona Village is fairly bursting with
people strolling, shopping, enjoying the idle life. We turn up the volcano to
Kuakini highway and head towards the Kohala coast. Big Red puts her arms
around me and hugs me as we go up through the gears.
Leaving Kona behind we take up Hwy. 19, also known as Queen
Ka`ahumanu Hwy. and roll over what looks to be fresh lava beds - but which were
actually deposited in 1801! The new airport is spread out across part of the
flow and is a stark contrast of primordial earthly fire and hi-tech. Several
cinder cones and a genuine volcano have formed the shape of the land here.
Hualalai rises 8271 feet above Kailua-Kona and is still an active mountain.
Much of the ride to Kawaihae, 35 miles up the highway, is along a moonscape of
lava flows and you need no reminder to stay on the road as the lava is
extremely rough and sharp. The colors range from pitch black to cocoa brown.
Some areas, called pahoehoe, are almost glassy while others are crusty and
crumbly piles called a`a (ah ah).
The ocean is every color of blue. Deep steel blues strain
against soft azures of the shoreline and plumes of pure white foam jet into
the sky. Obsidian black lava and green oases of palms and ferns complete the
palette of Hawaii's imagery. Wonderful Hawaiian names challenge your tongue -
Makalawena, Ka`upulehu, Nawaikulua, Kapalaoa, Keanapukalua glide behind us
until we arrive at Kawaihae where we pick up some water and a jolt of Kona
coffee. The lava fields of this part of Hawaii are older and less harsh.
Weather beaten, it is softer, grassy in most areas, and even home to hardy
trees that somehow have beaten the odds. It is also windy here - it has been
for much of the ride, but not so windy as it will become when we begin our
swing around Kohala mountain to the north shore. The area we've just traversed
is called the South Kohala District and is where many of the very best resorts
are found. I do all I can to avoid resorts, though, so we give them wide
berth. None the less, for those island visitors who enjoy them, they are a
wonderful thing.
Traveling north from Kawaihae we pick up the Akoni Pule Hwy.
and the wind picks up, too. Off in the distance, the island of Maui is just
visible above the layers of coastal clouds and provides a backdrop for a
couple pictures. We are on the western flank of an ancient volcano that rises
sharply out of the Pacific. There are numerous inactive cinder cones - idle
for thousands of years, but they have created a remarkable tangle of climates. The western side is
dry... arid even, at sea level... but just a few
hundred feet up the mountain it becomes verdant and grassy. Ancient ruins of
Hawaiian culture dot the shoreline and provide an opportunity to better understand island life prior to the arrival of western
influences. So many
points of interest compete with one's schedule, that too many are left unseen.
As the road swings through north to northeast the elevation rises and the
temperatures cool. The wind now becomes fierce!
Approaching the town of Hawaii, the scenery couldn't
possibly be
more different from the western slopes. Here is lush greenery, huge elephant
ear plants, plumeria trees, giant vines of split leaf philodendron climbing
out of deep water-cut gorges, and trees everywhere thrashing in the stiff
onshore breeze. All the senses are assaulted - the noise of the foliage in the
wind, the fragrance of the flowers, the warmth of the sun, and arms around my
shoulders providing such a strong sense of pleasure and peace it is difficult to
describe. I can honestly say I have never enjoyed a ride on a motorcycle so
much as this one.
A road winds down to the seashore that takes you to the
birthplace of King Kamehameha - a sadly unremarkable spot fallen into
ruin from neglect. Sad, given the reverence paid to the last of the great
Hawaiian leaders.
The soil is rich here in the highlands and there are remains
of sugar cane fields on both sides of the road. Commercial growing of sugar is
all but gone from the big island, and the bare fields are now at the mercy of
the elements. Left alone, the land will quickly revert to its natural form of
course, but there is some development here and there that will retard the
process.
The towns of Honomaka`u and Kapa`au are quaint and quiet
places. There is a cultural site here, as well as a heavily photographed statue
of Kamehameha, and at Makapala there is a wonderful little ice cream shop where we
stop for a cool snack. Back on the road, we come to the end of the journey at
Pololu Valley lookout, where the road ends abruptly at the edge of a deep shear
cliff. A ways off to the east beyond Waimanu Bay, just barely visible, is the
entrance to Waipio Valley. The inland side is the Kohala forest reserve, and
the deep blue Pacific ocean rolls endlessly away in every other direction.
More pictures are snapped as we take in the vistas high above the sea before we
turn back to Hawaii where we pick up the Kohala Mountain Road to Waimea.
Heading south out of Hawaii, the road climbs quickly up a winding
forested hillside until we are probably at or above 3500 feet. Heavy clouds
have been racing along with us in the wind and spraying us with a thin, cool
mist. The dampened foliage and soil bring more fragrances and the wind has
picked up again. For some reason, the wind has remained steadily from the front
for the entire trip no matter which way we travel.
This area of the Kohala district is cattle country, and there
among the cinder cones are huge beasts fattening on the abundant Hawaiian
grass. A wild turkey is seen between the pine trees that forest the land here,
and there scurries the mongoose. The needles from the trees gather
along side the road and are slick as ice which provides a near opportunity to
drop the softtail on one of our stops.
It has become downright cold now as we continue southeast
along the mountain's flank, but the road is engaging and full of curves and
breathtaking vistas. Viewing the ocean from this altitude is a memorable
experience I'll not soon forget. Past several ranches we begin to
descend slowly and hopefully warm up. That didn't happen! The day was beginning to
cloud up with huge belching black rollers, shepherded between mountain
peaks by the stiffening wind. We stopped at Waimea for gas and a short break.
Waimea is paniolo country. Paniolo is the Hawaiianized form of
Hispaniola where many of the cowboys from Hispanic California settled.
They were brought in to help manage the cattle that were increasing in numbers
at what was to become the Parker ranch. The Hispanic culture has contributed
much to Hawaii and this is seen and heard in the art and music of the island.
Joining Hwy. 190 south, it becomes obvious we
are going to
be drenched by Madam Pele's tears. The altitude is still quite high and so it
is still cold given the wind chill factor. The road, called "Hawaii Belt
Road" is narrow with long straight stretches and tight turns. Traffic is
in a hurry both directions and large fast trucks buffet the softtail. Wishing
to hold a leisurely pace I pull off the road frequently to allow the locals
and tourists to speed on - this is followed by thankful beeps on the horn and
a wave. This is largely a happy place.
More cinder cones and lava punctuate the area, and soon we are
recrossing the lava flows we traversed while northbound further downslope.
Being higher up, it is clear that there was more violent activity in the flows
and great breaches in the earth gape at the sky. Here and there are
intersections where minor dirt roads wind off through the lava beds. A healthy
4-wheel drive rig would be appropriate for such wanderings and I'm not
investing the Harley's tires on the sharp lava today. The road makes a sharp
turn at Pu`uanahulu which is at about 2000' elevation and we start to feel the
splatter of heathy Hawaiian rain drops, but the imminent deluge we were expecting hasn't started. As we again ride across the slope of Hualalai toward
Kona, the clouds fall behind and we are again warmed by the air pouring off the
sun-baked lava. Pele was happy with us today and shed barely a tear.
At Palini junction we are back in the Kailua-Kona city area
and enjoy the last miles back to the hotel and the garden spot of Kona
Village. It is said it never rains in Kona - it is called "the
blessing", and around 7:00 o'clock Kona was severely blessed - but by that
time we were napping in our hotel room. Life is good.
Aloha.
Dennis Peterson
