After our early morning exploring of the sea caves at the Waianapanapa State Park, it was time to continue on with our self-supported bicycle journey.
It was overcast as we departed from our campsite and headed toward the end of the road to Hana. We were on the downward slope of our trip, with just a few days left of travel. We headed in the direction on the island where tourists do not go, generally speaking. The end of the road to Hana.
Somehow the weather seemed to mirror my mood. I felt torn. I was having such a magical, meaningful trip I didn't want it to end. It was as if I were a bit like Wendy with Peter Pan and the Lost Boys. In the peripheral recesses of my thinking, I felt a little bit like I would be re-entering society and normalcy of routine living.
How to describe this trip? Each day held breathtaking beauty, tests of my physical abilities and an ease of friendship with one another. Each turn of the road displayed an oceanside setting that defies description, waterfalls, pools, and ponds. There were many little stores or displays of fruit, souvenirs and friendly locals selling their wares. Each day I marveled at all that we had encountered and experienced. The last two days would prove no different and test me in new ways.
We biked and came upon some pools of water. Though it was overcast I had decided early on that I would jump in whenever the situation warranted it. As a few of us entered the water and laughter echoed the landscape two small boys decided to join in on the fun and show us how the locals live.
From there we pedaled our way to the Seven Sacred Pools. We hiked into a bit more remote spot in time to cook our lunches and swim, climb and explore a few ot the tiny falls. That particular pool was my favorite of the trip. I was able to float on my back, swim underwater and even performed an impromptu solo complete with a ballet leg or two in a nod toward my childhood's synchronized swimming performances.
Reluctantly I packed up my belongings.
We soon had a decision to make. Some members in our group wanted to continue on to set up camp. On this particular day we did not have an end destination and would have to "free camp" along the route. In the past members had camped near the remote St. Joseph's Church in Kaupo. We had recently been informed we were no longer allowed to do that and to plan accordingly. We weren't exactly sure where we were going but we did know the direction to go. As I've said, I used to be a "planner" and noted I had easily adopted the "hang loose" or "go with the flow" attitude of the island.
Myself and two of the men, Ken Mirell and Taylor Flynn decided to hike to the Bamboo Forest and the Waimoku Falls, starting at the O'Heo Gulch (Seven Sacred Pools). We read it was a 2 mile hike, or so, and would be 4+ miles roundtrip. We were pressed for time and knew we would be racing the remaining sunlight in order to make it back to camp before dark. Earlier I had dumped some more of my gear in the car that Vanessa had driven because we were doing a lot of little side trips that day. I had planned to get back to camp early so I did not have my headlamp nor my night light on my bike's handlebars. It was a tad bit worrisome. Still, we decided we could do the hike, ride like the wind to join the others and set-up camp, all before nightfall.
The hike was both a bit more taxing than I had imagined because I was wearing my Keen bicycle sandals. They were the perfect shoe for biking on the island of Maui. My tan lines, months later are still visible. However, they were not meant for hiking and exploring. They have a very stiff bottom so that there is plenty of support while pedaling. The downside to that when hiking is that there is no flexibility and my knees took the brunt of every step up or down on the paths and stairway leading to the falls. I had just completed my first marathon and my knees were still smarting with each step. I winced a little inside as we moved both toward and away from the falls. Even so, I am glad I went on the hike that day.
We hiked from the tropical forest into the bamboo forest.
The knocking of the tall towering bamboo, as the wind wrestled the enormous shoots, sounded like a mammoth wooden windchime symphony. If you have never gone to this place, go. Soon.
We wound our way through the bamboo and continued our climb, inside my wincing was continuing, step by step. We headed around a corner and facing us was the most majestic cascading mossy-lined waterfall one could imagine. The sound of the water tumbling down the wall was deafening.
Immediately I started toward it. I wanted to stand beneath the fall and feel the water pounding upon my head.
After Ken and Taylor captured my jubilant moment on film we headed down the path to our bikes as quickly as our now-weary legs could carry us.
A great deal of time had passed as we headed toward our destination.
I was hungry and out of food, thirsty, and out of water. I had no light or lamps and I had run out of cash in my wallet so the mere fact that there were no stores along the road didn't seem to matter. My rear bike derailleur was not cooperating and my chain kept switching gears as I was going uphill. My pedaling had to be done while standing and my feet were slipping from the pedals, despite the cleats. I had more bruises than could be counted and eventually I knew my slow pace had separated me from my two companions. I was traveling alone. I ignored the catcalls of local teens driving by but was aware I might find it necessary to put up a fight, if need be. I pressed on.
I eventually joined one of the men, Taylor, at the Kaupo Store. Thank goodness. I was empty-handed staring at a shop filled with food and drink. By this time I was so hungry I wasn't thinking straight. My new friend offered to get me something and I grabbed the nearest sports drink and an Almond Joy. I both ate and drank them in no time flat. I hadn't realized how depleted my body was until that moment. I knew then that I needed more food and more drink and my only thought was to get to our campsite. Now.
I continued onward with my chain dropping every fifth pedal stroke or so. Thankfully one of the others, Rob Swain, from the big group came looking for us. The darkness was fast approaching and we didn't exactly know where we were headed. We followed him back to a large grassy field next to the ocean. I got off my bike and into the open arms of the group who enveloped us. They offered to set-up my tent but if one thing I have learned on this trip it's that each person has to do that on their own. It actually saves time. I had located my headlamp by now and assembled my home away from home.
I pooled my food resources with Rob and together we made quite a tasty feast. It was not enough. I ate more from others' stores and continued to eat and eat and eat. And if the truth be told, I did not feel full, despite the large quantity of food I had just inhaled. Water was scarce and so we drank it sparingly. As it showered rainfall upon our camp again later that night, the irony of not having enough to drink was not lost on any of us I think.
The next morning we packed quickly. We headed to the main road. The earlier portion of blacktop was smooth and not at all what I had remembered on my previous trip twenty-five years earlier. This particular stretch was much like the Road to Hana from long ago: it was bumpy, had potholes and ditches and patched throughout. We were all giddy to get to our next destination, the Ulupalakua Ranch Store and the Tedeschi Winery.
When we reached the main road a rainbow greeted us. It was very picturesque and we all took it as a positive sign.
We soon separated, all pedaling at different paces. One of the men, Rob, noticed my rear derailleur giving me grief. We pulled to the side of the road and with a rock lying alongside the road he pounded the troublesome spot while using a nail to keep the chain from breaking. I nicknamed him MacGyver from the old t.v. show.
A bit further down the road my bike was not happy. I had traveled for nearly a week with a heavy laden bike and my chain was in need of lubricant. The others were ahead and my Ziplock baggie with the aforementioned article was not with me. I did, conveniently, have a bottle with olive oil and balsamic vinegar in it. Olive oil is a wonder for our health and it is an acceptable means to lubricate a bicycle while on a tour of Maui. Or so I now know thanks to the quick thinking of "MacGyver."
Thankfully the travel was easy after that and we made our way to the famous Ulupalakua Ranch Store. I ate a grilled chicken sandwich, Maui potato chips and drank nearly a liter of water. We were a bit scruffy looking at this point. I'm certain I had a layer of dirty grime on my face. I didn't mind. My belly was full and we were preparing to celebrate Vanessa's belated big birthday bash later that evening.
We were blessed, and I do not use that term lightly, by a gracious host and hostess named Roger and Paula Hegele, the owners of Tedeschi Winery and Vanessa's dear friends. They allowed us to stay at their home for the evening.
We were given clean towels, hot showers and a spot to relax and enjoy a new and altogether different scenery...that of a working Maui Ranch. Their restored home was beautiful, the food plentiful and the party was like something out of magazine. We tasted wine, we heard stories about the ranch turned winery and met their youngest son and sweet-natured dog. I actually cried when I stood in the hot shower, washing away the dirt. I appreciated the near-ending of the momentous journey. I was touched by the generous way the Hegele's cared for us, doing our laundry, and providing a spot to rest our weary heads. In point of fact, I slept on their porch on an outdoor sofa with cool breezes allowing me to bury beneath a thick sleeping bag.
As we departed from the winery the next and final day of our tour, we headed back down the Maui mountainside. We rode through pineapple plantations with wind so strong I was swept sideways an entire lane line and somehow did not fall. As strong as our headwind was going up the mountain earlier in the week, it was twice as strong heading down. We were flying, loaded pannier bags and all! Wheeeee!
Our Maui trip had come to it's conclusion.
My road to Hana redo was over, in the most excellent of manners. I had survived one week post-marathon, a trip around the entire island, climbing up hills on my bicycle with loaded saddle bags. It was the most amazing experience of my life. I tapped into my younger, carefree self. The beauty was more amazing than I had imagined, the food more flavorful and the comaraderie formed amongst a small group of relative strangers is to be fondly remembered for years to come.
On the road to Hana I also learned I am strong, in all definitions of the word.
Friends and family ask if I would consider doing a bicycle tour of such magnitude again?
The answer, enthusiastically, is yes.
No comments:
Post a Comment