Half Dome

Half Dome! It was calling to me and when my friend Chad mentioned climbing to the top and having to use cables and that it was an epic 17 mile hike, I thought surely this was a good idea. Its gotten so popular that the National Park service implemented a daily number of passes to climb the infamous cable route to the peak. I put my hat in the lottery to win passes and asked a few other people to do the same. We were all losers except Chad. In fact, Chad was so good at winning this lottery, that we got passes for a Saturday and the Summer Solstice and a full moon. He said we had to start hiking at 4:45am and that it would take 12-14 hours and so we wanted to be back in time for Happy Hour beers. I was camping alone outside Yosemite Valley, so I woke up just after 3:00am and was driving an hour down to the trailhead in the dark and only passed one other car. Yosemite was a sleep Valley that morning. At the parking lot were several people getting ready for hikes. I remarked to myself how pleasantly warm it was that morning and ditched my thermal and pants, wearing shorts a t-shirt, my reliably new Keen boots and a backpack full of snacks and water. I loaded up on greek yogurt and a double espresso shot and set out to meet the gang at the trailhead. I could see silhouettes walking about but couldn't see Chad and I rushed around calling his name, hoping he hadn't set off without me. Then he and Brian appeared out of the darkness. We were still waiting for Lisa and Matt. I was excited that I was the first one there. And then we were 5 and ready to set out up to the top of Half Dome. Chad was an indispensable guide as he had made the climb before and offered great ideas and commentary along the way. He was so knowledgeable that I nicknamed him, Chad "We have a decision to make" because he was always giving us options. The sun still wasn't shining and we were passing 317 foot tall Vernal Falls as it draped over the smooth rocks. We ascended damp stairs cut into the granite, along the Mist Trail, past The Fern Grotto and to the top of the Falls. We weren't running into many people, another reason Chad told us to start early. It was still cool and everything was obliquely illuminated by the still hidden sun. Continuing on the Mist Trail up past 600 foot tall Nevada Falls and more steps. Nevada Falls rushed angrily over the precipice and cascaded in whites and blues to a sloping rock wall that gushed into a shimmering pool. We'd been on the move about 90 minutes and stopped to hydrate and snack. I started with an apple and almonds. A few more people trickled past us on the trail as this was where The Mist Trail meets the John Muir Trail, which we planned to take on the return, thinking it would be easier to not have to walk down all those steps with throngs of hikers coming at us. We were now in Little Yosemite Valley, which was wide and filled with pine trees and sandy paths. Small shrubs and a few redwoods dotted the scenery. We still hadn't really seen any wildlife and the sun was starting to shine down on us in certain stretches. It felt warm and soothing, since we had been gaining elevation and there was a slight chill in the air. After awhile, we came to another split where you could turn off to Clouds Rest and Lake Tenaya and Tuolumne Meadows and pretty much anywhere else you wanted to hike in the Park. Before entering all the switchbacks for this leg of the trip, we rested again and were passed by a large scout troop. Daypacks were standing on end in a colorful circle just off the path. These were backpackers who had spent the previous night in Little Yosemite Valley and were now headed out without all the gear. A deer suddenly appeared from behind a tall tree to investigate the packs. She wasn't finding much and after hydrating again, we continued on and came upon Sub Dome! What a name. This is where the trees start to clear and you get a startling profile of Half Dome. She looms in granite permanence and beckons at the same time. Sub Dome is where you meet the ranger, Danny, who had been there since 4am, with an iPad. He checks to make sure you actually have the permit and then allows you to continue on. If you weren't already feeling tired, the never ending granite steps of Sub Dome will do their best to zap your energy. Good thing we had hydrated and I had eaten a protein bar. Its basically switchback steps that are irregular and sway this way and that and are full of small lose pebbles. At this point, we were approaching 8000 feet but the altitude wasn't bothering me all that much and I powered though the torturous Sub Dome steps. It then began to round out and we were on top of the Sub Dome shortly before Half Dome began to rise above us. The path curves down to The Saddle and then you are staring at the infamous cables. The stretch up and looks solid and inviting. To the left is a large boulder with discarded gloves. Good thing Chad told us to bring our own gloves, and I pulled out an old leather pair that had belonged to my grandfather. We double checked our pockets to ensure all was secure and tightened our backpacks and gripped the cables. The cables have been around forever and are looped through 68 pair of posts that are resting in holes drilled into the granite. The posts are not secured to the Dome, but the cables are. And so the posts move a bit as you climb up, gripping for dear life onto the cables. This is why there are permits and a quota of daily hikers on the cables. Its very dangerous and crowds make us all nervous. Its two way traffic and somewhat terrifying to climb up, let alone have some climbing down and wanting to pass you. Another smart move Chad made by having us start early was that no one was coming down as we were ascending. I didn't really want to look to the left or to the right or look down, so I kept my focus on my feet and what lay above me. This is considered Class 3 climbing out of 5, something I knew nothing about, but was amazed that I could do something this dangerous with no training or supervision. And now the stress switched from my legs to my arms and hands as I gripped the silver cables, hoisting myself up, sandwiched between Infinity and Oblivion. At this point, its all me and if I make a mistake, I slide down the slippery granite rock for 4000 feet to Yosemite Valley. They said four people have fallen to their deaths from the cables since they were installed in 1919. Terribly sad for all those involved, but pretty good odds that we will all be successful today. And so I continued climbing up farther and farther. At times, the Dome was steeper than 45 degrees and at times it felt fairly easy. Gradually, it began to level out at the cables ended and I could stand upright and walk to the top. When I turned around, the cables disappeared below the Dome's horizon very quickly. I wasn't looking forward to the descent. The top of Half Dome was much larger than I imagined. In terms of square footage, it was massive and with about 30 people at the top it was very manageable to get around, take a nap, sunbathe, admire the view, read about John Muir, play Bananagrams, or eat lunch. We found a nice spot we called the booth and unpacked our lunches. Everyone was happy I had brought an avocado to the top and shared it to go with turkey or tuna wraps. I had also brought carrots, chips, hummus, a peach, a banana and more protein bars. I also brought two bottles of water but forgotten my Sigg back at camp. Luckily, Chad brought plenty of water to share. Using my binoculars, we could spot ski runs on the backside of Mammoth. We could view the entire Yosemite Valley below us. We could see Glacier Point shining nearby. El Capitan was visible and I thought about people who like to rock climb up the shear face. And then I spotted a fellow climbing up the face of Half Dome, but I couldn't look at him long because it started to fill me with anxiety. I'd say there were people from age 16 to 65 at the top to Half Dome. After lunch we walked around taking more pictures and dodging squirrels and marmots that were far more aggressive than I'd expected. We walked out to The Visor, which juts out a bit and give you a good view of Half Dome's face. Beneath The Visor is a small cave or gap on the granite slabs that make up Half Dome. Its said that hikers sought refuge in their during a Summer storm and were struck by lightning; its also said that lightning strikes Half Dome every month of the year. I was thinking about the ranger telling us that if we saw any clouds or chance of a storm, it was time to leave the Dome. You can't camp on top of the Dome. We stayed up there about 45 minutes and were beginning the descent before noon. By turning around and facing the Dome, I was going down the same way I came up. This gave me more leverage and saved a lot of stress on my toes. But the cables were filled with traffic coming to the top. But you stay friendly and chat with people as they are headed up. Some are in a rush to get to the top, some want you to pass first, some are having an anxiety attack and don't even talk to you. I would tell people they are going to love it at the top and how great is it that we can do something as dangerous and exhilirating as this with no training or supervision. Again, the gloves were so helpful at this point and I enjoyed the descent much more than I thought I would. I didn't looks much to either side or down, but focused on keeping a steady grip on the cables. And then I was back in The Saddle, gazing up at all the cable climbers. A young kid next to us said his hands didn't hurt that much without gloves, but they looked bloody and painful. I was a little sore from gripping so tight and my hands smelled like dirt since I normally use those gloves for gardening, but was otherwise unscathed. After pausing briefly and letting the adrenaline dissipate, we trudged onto the the arduous Sub Dome steps. In hindsight, those steps were the worst part of the hike and made my calves and thighs ache. We passed many people on our way down the trail, through all the wooded switchbacks and down to the junction with Little Yosemite Valley. It was here that we stopped to wash off and enjoy the impossibly clear Merced River. The water was just above freezing, but I hopped in and kept my legs submerged as long as I could. Someone had told me to soak my legs in cold water to help reduce cramping and soreness. After about 10 minutes, I had submerged myself completely in the river and swam to a big warm rock to dry off in the sun. And then I put my boots back on and we continued down to Nevada Falls where we connected with the John Muir Trail. It was swarming with day hikers and crowds stretched all over every trail route at this point. The trail sloped gradually down and past wet walls with ferns and water leaking onto the path. The sun was shining in full force and it was warm. Our energy was draining quickly and it was now an endurance test to stay polite and finish this damn hike. We paused less to take pictures, we talked with each other less, and stayed focused on keeping our wobbly legs from not letting us topple over. I heard tourists speaking German, Spanish, Italian, Brazilian, Japanese and American accents from the south and midwest. The heat increased and I reapplied sunscreen. I was placing our end time at the trail head at 4:00pm and we were making good time. Returning to the base of Vernal Falls and crossing the wooden bridge, it was now crushingly filled with people like Main Street Disneyland. In no mood to deal with throngs of tourists, we picked up the pace and landed back where we started just after four o'clock. With breaks and lunch and swimming, we completed the 17 mile, 4600 foot elevation gain and loss in about 10 and a half hours. Time for a beer! Chad and Brian were staying at the Ahwahnee Hotel and we all headed back there, cleaned up and enjoyed drinks outside the hotel, gazing at the tall trees, steep Valley walls, and of course, Half Dome, as it started to shimmer and shine with the setting sun. Brian had snagged us a reservation in the timeless hotel restaurant. What a treat! The restaurant is gorgeous and enormous, with exposed wood beams and extremely tall single sheet windows that allow diners to take in view of the jagged peaks surrounding the Valley. A great meal and crowd to cap off an epic journey on the Summer Solstice.

Leaving Maui

Day Eight.
It was still windy and cloudy on our last day in Maui. There wasn't much to do in the morning with the weather being what it was. But it was still pleasant to sit on the balcony, drink coffee, read the paper, and stare out at the white caps piling up in the channel between Maui and Molokai. I could still see a few whales now and then spouting off in the distance and colorful birds chirped all morning. A rainbow appeared and shifted in the changing morning light with clouds zooming by. We packed and headed off to the airport. We stopped at a lookout spot of the highway from Lahaina and looked for more whales. Nearing the airport, the weather was windier with less clouds and more white caps jumping on top of a tempestuous and brilliantly deep blue sea. The turnoff was full off people whale spotting and genuinely amazed when a humpback breached the surface with a large white splash. I didn't know if they were just seeing for the first time, or if they were as amazed as I was that the whales continued to do this by the hundreds day after day this time of the year. We stopped at another natural food store and picked up some sandwiches to eat while waiting at the airport. Michael also wanted more coffee to go. It was still windy when it was time to take off from the airport in Kahului, but the climb was swift and quiet compared to the swaying palm trees and sugar cane fields below.
Before we knew it, the sun was going down and the smooth flight to Portland was quickly coming to an end. It was just about four hours with a strong tailwind pushing us into the Pacific Northwest and an amazingly smooth landing that greeted us on a mild winter night in Portland. Since we were staying with a friend who doesn't drink coffee, Michael was sure to have the coffee he bought ground for us and we lounged about in the morning before having lunch with his mother. Later in the day, our friends Tiffany and Giovanna were flying up from San Francisco to meet us for the weekend. We checked into the Ace Hotel in downtown Portland, met up with the girls and split a bottle of red wine that evening. They hadn't been to Portland so it we picked a great restaurant for dinner: Clyde Common. It also happened to be directly below the hotel and we didn't have to step out into the damp night. The drinks we great, the meal was wonderful. We all split just about everything. Appetizers, starters, main courses, and three delicious desserts filled up the four of us and left our stomachs full.
Day Nine.
This is really the last day of the vacation as it was now time to head back to reality and see what the rest of our real lives looked like. The four of us eventually spilled down to the hotel lobby and had a cup of coffee, lounging about and generally relaxing for awhile before heading out to get a late breakfast. And then we were headed to Washington Park to the Chocolate Festival, which was really the whole reason the girls had flown up to Portland. Its also a big reason we stayed in Portland a couple nights, too. We had been a few years ago and had a really good time. This festival was also going to showcase a truffle and wine pairing demonstration so we were sure to get a good seat for it. There were also plenty of other booths where you could sample so many different tastes and flavors that it didn't take long before I hit the ceiling and didn't want to try any more chocolate. But they had lots of great samplings, like dark chocolate martinis, homemade chocolates, spicy chocolates, and many other items that escape my memory. What I did remember was Choffey. Its somewhat similar to grinding coffee beans rather coarsely so that you could use them in a french press. The chocolate is roasted and ground and then I am guessing its somewhat freeze-dried so that it doesn't break down anymore. You add it to hot water and press the screen down just like making coffee with a press, but its now something of a hot chocolate or sipping chocolate. People were adding creams and sugar to the drink, just as you would with a regular cup of coffee. While I didn't really care for the flavor, it was an innovative idea that could create a market if the taste was refined and more palatable.
After all that we weren't much in the mood for lunch or afternoon coffee, but we knew we needed to keep walking and burn off some of the calories we had just packed on. We went to show the girls more of the city and browsed more stores and rode the light rail to another part of the city to see what was going on. In the later afternoon, we said our good-byes and went to have a quick and tasty dinner with Michael's mother and sister before heading to the airport. Our flight was loaded with the USC basketball team after they had just lost to Oregon. They looked tired and filed onto the plane past us as we sat in first class and waited to head home. The last flight was also quick and smooth and we made it back home around 11 that night.
It was a long trip, I think the longest one I had taken in awhile and definitely the longest one for Michael in a few years. I was already thinking about Hawaii the next day and missing just about everything about it. I missed the clean air, the beautiful surroundings, the chirping birds and the playful whales. We had been there six nights but I still felt that there was so much more to see and so much more to do. Maybe next time, we will get to visit another island and see what else the 50th state has to offer.

Road to Haleakala

Day Six.
I had been checking the weather reports for Haleakala Mountain to see if it would be a good day to visit the summit. Forecasts showed mid-50s and sunny with wind gusts up to 45 MPH. The wind gusts made me nervous but I figured we would drive over there and see how things were. The highway sped away from the sugar cane fields and slowly up the mountain side. We were near the town of Kula around 3000 feet and it was already brisk and chilly outside, but it was still early in the morning. We stopped at a small cafe for a cup of coffee and strolled through the garden around the back. They were growing different proteas, which are large flowers that grow wild in South Africa. They are doing well in the higher elevations on Maui, too, and seemed to be quite popular. Further up the road we could see the layer of haze wafting below us. The cool and humid are gave way to dry, warmer temperatures. The wind wasn't too strong and there was a steady stream of tourists driving up and down the mountainside with us. The peak of the mountain is not only a sight to see at 10000 feet in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, it is also a national park with ranger-led tours, lots of activities and amazing views all around. We stopped at the park headquarters and read a little about the park and its history. Although Haleakala is a volcano, it hasn't erupted since 1790 and the peak is fractured into strange and colorful shapes. The trees gradually disappear and the shrubs thin out the higher you go. At the top, there is little plant life except a few silversword, which are greenish small palm-looking shrubs that only grow near the summit. The dirt is a deep brown and red and everything seems very loose. The wind can gust quite strong at that elevation and its difficult for anything to grow. Plus erosion is in full swing as craggy mounds dissolve in the wind, rain and snow. I also read that the dirt is so rich in iron that it can disrupt and play tricks on a compass.
The views are amazing. We were well above the layer of haze, but you could still see the clouds and ocean below. Everything seemed so small and I really didn't feel like I was on the island anymore. The peaks of Mauna Loa and Moana Kea were visible on the big island, 80 and 100 miles away. Someone said on clear days you can even see the curvature of the earth with visibility greater than 125 miles. While I didn't see that, the view was certainly awe-inspiring and well worth the two hour drive to the summit. We walked for awhile along a trail down into the nearby caldera. It was barren with streaks of red and brown dirt. A group of horseback riders was well ahead of us and they seemed so far away but I could see them so clearly. The sun was bright and obtrusive, making me squint and ache for my sunglasses (I had broken a contact lens the night before). Taking photos all around me, they didn't look so good when I uploaded them to my computer because the light was so harsh and direct. We continued down the trail for about two miles, then stopped and ate some snacks, admiring the odd and otherworldly surroundings. It would take hours to get down to the caldera floor, and then there wouldn't be anywhere to go other than back up or off to another trail far, far away from the car, so we headed back up. I was thinking that the sunrise view at the summit wouldn't have been so good because of the vog, but I'm sure it was amazing. Maybe next trip I will go that, or at least stick around for the sunset.
Driving back down we passed a nene bird on the side of the highway. I guess it sort of looks like a goose, with brown feathers, a heavy side-to-side walk and an inquisitive nature. The drive down seemed to take longer than the drive up. Michael wanted to visit a small restaurant in the upcountry called Grandmas. They had homemade sandwiches, yummy desserts and their own coffee. The sandwiches and desserts were great, while the coffee was okay. There was a nice wooden balcony that overlooked Kihei and the countryside below. It was windier at Grandmas than up at Haleakala's peak. So we headed back as the dark clouds began to roll in. It rained off and on and when we were back at the hotel, I decided it was time to relax again for the rest of the day and do some reading. We had a nice veggie pizza and salad from the nearby restaurant.
Day Seven.
Our last full day and I didn't feel like doing much. It was a blustery day with periods of light rain, blowing wind and great views of the other islands as the vog was pushed out to sea. We went to the farmer's market across the street and perused the local goods. After lunch, we drove to Lahaina and walked around. We had been nearby for five days and hadn't visited the town yet. A cruise ship was in town so everything was crowded and the rain had parted to reveal a warm and humid afternoon with occasional gusty reliefs of cool wind. We visited the Chinese history museum in town which had a neat short movie of footage Thomas Edison had taken with his new moving picture camera in the late 1800s. We walked around more, had some shaved ice and headed out of town.
We had passed by Island Press Coffee off the main highway but hadn't stopped. I'm glad we did because it was the best cup of coffee we had had on the island. The young guy behind the counter made me a french press and then chatted us up about the best ways to drink coffee. He was clearly as big a fan of the stuff as we were. We bought a half pound of whole beans from him to take home with us. I definitely recommend stopping if you are near the cafe.
Back at the hotel, that was it for the rest of the day. Oh, I did get a little restless that late afternoon and decided to go for a jog through the neighborhood. It immediately began to sprinkle and although I could see blue sky off in the distance, the rain only began to get heavier. So I cut my job short and headed back, with my hair soaked and my glasses dripping with water. I had planned to use an old pair of hiking/walking shoes in Maui and then leave them behind to free up space in my bag. And that was the end of those shoes.

Exploring the Island

Day Four.
We were up early again and drinking coffee on the balcony when we saw whales off the coast. Some were visible with their backs just peeking above the surface and others were tossing spray into the air with their bursting exhale. And then now and then we would see one breach the water and rise up into the air, sometimes appearing to stand straight up and sometimes flipping to one side, creating an enormous splash. It was amazing to see and especially from our balcony. I had been whale watching before off the coast of Baja, but these whales were more active and seemed to relish the surface breaches and showing off. There were dozens and dozens of humpback whales spread out in the channel between Maui and Molokai.
I made an omelet with with local eggs that cost $4/dozen and tossed in some other local veggies I had picked up at the natural food store. It was still early in the morning when we set out along the coast toward 'Iao Valley State Park, which is on the east side of the island and gets a lot more rain than the west side (where we were staying). Its an extremely lush valley with a dense tropical feel. Verdant peaks rise up quickly on three sides and after a while, I began to get the sense of being on the edge of a collapsed caldera. Although I'm not exactly sure that's what the park is, that is the definite feel it exudes. Its bright and hidden and beautiful with walkways that pass tranquil streams and huge overgrown trees. Its one of the gems of the island and was apparently so popular with Hawaiian royalty that it was off limits to commoners. There weren't any trails that led off into the mountainside, which was sort of a shame because I am sure it would have been amazing to trek up and down the walls of the caldera. The park was also smaller than I thought and so we saw all of it in less than an hour.
We headed back to the west side and stopped by the harbor to see about booking space to go snorkeling at Molokini the next day. We found what we were looking for and were set for a trip early the next morning. So we headed south towards to Kihei and pulled over at a beach where we could see whales very close to the beach. It wasn't very crowded, with just a few people fishing, a family playing in the water with two very happy dogs and a handful of joggers. Michael and I ate a makeshift lunch on the beach, then headed south to a recommended snorkeling area near Makena. We had some trouble finding the spot, then had trouble finding parking. It was Sunday and everyone was at the beach. We set our stuff down and went out looking for a good spot. The water was great and there were a few people snorkeling, but we didn't really see anything fascinating. More fish and rocks, and with the current a little stronger than up at Kapalua. We lay out on the beach for awhile and then decided to find shaved ice and escape from the mid-afternoon heat. In Kihei, we found a great place with dozens of flavors to choose from and also had locally made ice cream. We walked around some of the nearby shops but didn't buy anything. By the time we made it back to the hotel, I was exhausted from the day and we lounged around. I had lots of reading to catch up on and a bag full of crossword puzzles to tackle.
Day Five.
We were up at 530. We need to be to the harbor and checked in the snorkel tour at 615. Everyone was standing outside the office for the Pacific Whale Foundation (http://www.pacificwhale.org) waiting for instructions to get on the boat and head to Molokini. The sun was just starting to rise and a woman went over the details and plans for the day. Its a five hour trip and we would go to Molokini and then to snorkel at a second sight, which would most likely be Turtle Town. At this point I was extremely excited at the thought of swimming with giant green sea turtles. We were herded to the boat and everyone was given snorkel gear (if needed) and they even had goggles with prescription lenses for those who wore glasses. I was wearing my contacts so I was fine, but Michael was happy that he could make use of the extra-strength goggles. It was about 45 minutes to Molokini, which is a crescent shaped island, half submerged. It looks like a small collapsed volcano, about a half mile wide with one side sticking above the water. Inside the crescent the water is about 100-150 feet deep and extremely clear. The current runs right into Molokini, so the constant rush of water created the shape. The opposite side of the crescent is a sheer drop down into the deep. You can't go outside of the crescent without training because of the constant current of about 5-6 MPH that will sweep you south to Tahiti. Getting off the boat into the water, you can use the stairs, jump, or take the short five foot slide. I elected for the slide and splashed into the water. It was amazingly clear and coral was dotted along the crater floor down below. It was about 8 in the morning and then sun was still low on the horizon but it was bright and was sure to keep everything well lit. Along the part of the island that is above sea, the coral rises abruptly from about 50 feet and we were advised to keep at least 30 feet away in case of large sudden swells. They even had folks on kayaks to keep an eye on everyone. And if you got to close to the wall or too far away, they herded you back. I didn't see much other than lots of different fish, all with bright colors and all pretty curious. We even saw the Hawaii state fish, which is much shorter looking than its name would imply: Humuhumukununukuapua'a. It has great black and yellow markings with large eyes that sit high on its oval shaped body.
After Molokini, we headed over toward Makena Bay, where we were the day before. The sun was high at this point and we head great views of whales off in the distance. I forgot to mention that while we were headed to Molokini from the harbor, they came around to everyone offering fruit, muffins, bagels, coffee and juice; I liked this part. Off Makena Bay, we stopped at Turtle Town and I again slid into the water in another brilliantly clear area where I was dying to see a turtle. I didn't have to wait long as one about three feet big swam gently nearby. The turtle was a shiny green with a perfectly shaped shell that looked a bit mossy. The flippers were long and twisted gently to help propel them along effortlessly into the distance. Everyone was crowding about at this point to see the turtle and swim alongside. We continued swimming along some underwater lava fingers that jutted out from the shoreline. One had two holes that created an undersea tunnel. It was at least 30 feet down and whenever I swam down from the surface the pressure quickly weighed on my head. I didn't think I could swim into the tunnel but I did want to see what it looked like from different angles. Another turtle passed by. It was further away and didn't want to stick around for very long. Michael and I swam over to the other lava finger to where it stuck above the waves at certain points. Schools of small blue fish were swishing about in the current that pushed by every now and then. I didn't see any sharks, nor octopus, which was a little disappointing, but then I would rather have seen the turtles anyway. One time when I was snorkeling in Australia, I saw several large manta ray over six feet across glide below me. They were amazing to see, but not as interactive as the turtles.
And then before I knew it, it was time to head back. At this point I was back near the undersea tunnel and I saw an even larger turtle who was probably at least four feet big and probably about 200 pounds rise up from the tunnel. There were only four other snorkelers nearby and we all seemed to freeze where we were. The turtle gazed about non-chalantly and slowly rose to the surface. One guy had a camera with him and dove down below to snap a few shots. The turtle bobbed on the surface for a few second and then looked down below. While it seemed to stare at each one of us, it then glided underwater slowly toward me. Those large flippers propelling in slowly and effortlessly toward me. I'm not sure how close it was, or if it was even headed to me, but I swam to the side just in case. And then it turned and headed back to the underwater tunnel. I was still staring at it swim away when I snapped out of the trance I felt I was in. My breathing had slowed and I felt calm and so comfortable. It was an enchanting experience, whether the turtle was even aware of me or not, I was certainly aware of it and happy to have connected with it, if even for just a second or two.
Back on the boat, we were served lunch and everyone talked about how much fun they were having and what they had seen. Headed back to marina, we saw more whales off in the distance and then they eventually came closer. The guide started talking about whales and listing facts that drew all the kids around as she spoke. I headed to bar since it was open and all drinks were complimentary. Of course, mai tais were overflowing, but they also had Bikini Blonde Lager, which is locally brewed on Maui. When the guide asked where the whales go in the winter, several kids shouted Alaska. Without missing a beat, the guide said, "That's right, they go all the way back to Nebraska." We all laughed and Michael pointed out that Nebraska is always a good punch line for a joke.
Back at the marina, it felt so much later than 1230. But then we had been up for seven hours and had done so much so early in the day. Back at the hotel, I spent more time sitting on the balcony reading and staring out at sea. I'd also become hooked on playing solitaire on my iPod. I went for a short swim and snorkel in the water just outside our hotel and was done when I noticed a cut on my big toe. It was from the fins I had been wearing and although I had felt them wearing on me, I didn't know they were cutting me. After that, I showered, had a drink for sunset and relaxed the rest of the night.

Going to Maui

Day One.
We need to fly to Oakland and spend the night because the nonstop flight to Maui on Alaska Airlines leaves at 745 in the morning. We are flying standby (of course) and the flight looks good, with a possibility of getting first class. One problem is that it has been storming all week in California. Yes, nearly the entire state has been pounded by four powerful storms. There have been periods of heavy rain, gusty winds, lighting, tornadoes, snow and hail. Earlier in the week flights at Orange County airport had been unable to land or voluntarily diverted because of gusty winds and nearby tornadoes. This scares Michael because he doesn't like to fly and he surely doesn't like turbulence. But I say we have to fly in it because I want to go to Maui and this looks like our best option. Besides, we are going on an adventure! So we pack in the morning and clean the apartment and are getting ready to when I check the flights from Orange County to see how they are doing and at least two of the flights to Oakland are canceled. Uh oh, I think, and check the flights from LAX to Oakland, and a few of them look good for standby travelers like us. So we go to LAX and its raining and gray and dark and ominous looking outside. I don't like the idea of flying during this storm either, but I haven't seen much of the sun in the past five days and I am already getting dark circles under my eyes. Turns out the flight to Oakland is wide open but running late. We wait in the boarding area, eat sandwiches and look outside as the clouds begin to part and the rain subsides. We board the plane, take off, and its nothing but bright blue sky and white billowing clouds. Its awesome! The clouds are bulbous and thunderstorm lookalikes and the plane veers this way and that to avoid flying directly through them. Its a little bumpy but not bad and we soon land in Oakland, having used some of the free drink coupons a friend had given us.
We rented a car and then drove out to stay with our friends Tiffany and Arthur, who live in Bay Point. I didn't know where it was either, but its east and a bit north for 45 minutes, near Pittsburgh and Antioch. The four of go out for a yummy sushi dinner and go to bed early because we have to be up at dark:30 the next morning.
Day Two.
We are up by 5 and on the road back to the airport, but of course we have time to stop and get coffee on the way. At the airport, we find out first class is full, but we get seats together in coach. The flight is pretty full and we're in the window and middle seat with a family of five taking up the rest of the row and across the aisle; they've got an infant with them that likes to scream. I'm a little disturbed, but since we are going to Hawaii, I don't care too much. Its still stormy in Oakland at this point, the sun is barely rising and its raining gently outside. All the more dramatic an exit for us to fly into the tropics 2500 miles away. The flight has some bumps, but overall its pretty smooth and the crew is in a good mood. The flight attendant looks at me and says that I had a pre-paid digiplayer (its an like a portable dvd player with built in movies, shows, music and games that an employee invented). Too bad all the movies are bad and and I don't want to watch any of them, but at least they had an episode of the Simpsons and then I go back to reading the newspaper, doing the crossword puzzle and playing solitaire on my iPod. The anticipation starts to build because its been over four hours and we are anxious to see some land. When the islands come into view, its hazy. I had looked at the forecast and it pretty much said haze forever. The locals call it volcanic haze, but I don't know what that means and I just think it has something to do with El Nino. We land at the Kahului airport and everyone claps. This is Michael's first time to Hawaii and my second time to Maui, but its been nine years since then when my brother was married. Despite the haze, its stunningly lush and beautiful. We headed over to pick up our rental car and they let me choose from a few options. I take the Mitsubishi Eclipse, which is not big on room, but fun to drive and handles curves better than most rentals. At this point its barely noon and we are hungry so we stop at a health food store near the airport which makes all sorts of veggie and non-veggie sandwiches. Then its off to our rental which is north of Lahaina but south of Napili in a small area called Honokawai. Our room isn't ready yet, but they give us towels and send us to the beach to occupy our time. The water is wonderfully cool and refreshing, I'd say mid 70s. It feels cool but once you are in you never feel cold. The sun is shining, you can see the other island of Molokai and we've finally made it to Maui. When we get to check in, we realize the room is really a condo building, which is great because it comes with a full kitchen, one bedroom and an amazing balcony that overlooks the ocean. We can see Molokai and Lanai from the balcony and promptly proclaim that we will spend most of the time on the balcony. Also, we can look down on he grassy area below by the beach to see everyone laying out, drinking, reading, or snoozing in the sun.
After a nap, we go shopping for food. There's a few grocery options on the island and we are across from another health food store, which I didn't plan for. I'm just sad there is no Trader Joes here, but they are getting a Whole Foods next month. I was expecting sticker shock, but was still surprised to see loaves of bread for $5, a bag of tortilla chips for $4 and a six pack of beer for $10. Everything is at least one dollar more here, and if you want to buy local food (like bread, eggs, chips, beer), its generally two or three dollars more than the mainland. For sunset, we had chips and salsa, sat on the balcony and drank a local Maui pale ale, which I really enjoyed. We made a pasta dinner and I was ready for bed before 9pm. I held out until 930 and was out cold.
Day Three.
We were both up early and Michael made coffee and got the local Maui Newspaper and we sat on the balcony for breakfast. The forecast was the same, low 80s and bright blue sky. We rented snorkel gear, which was a reasonable $15/week. The girl at the shop gave us a map of four local places to see fish. We started at Kapalua Bay, which was great. Not only was the beach filled with bright white sand, there are surrounding palm trees, a good size bay and rocks on either end. Michael hadn't been snorkeling before but he caught on quickly. I'm not an expert, but I've been a handful of times. We see lots of colorful fish floating about. The conditions are calm and clear and there are several people also out and about in the bay. Lots of families relaxing on the beach and kids running all over the place. Its a nice mix. While laying out, a group of kids were pointing and smiling at the water near the rocks. Turns out there was a green sea turtle hanging about, but was gone by the time I got there. After a few hours, we went back to the room, had lunch and napped. Then afternoon coffee and a drive north to find more snorkel sights. We eventually found a recommended spot. After walking through a tropical mini forest and passing many wild roosters, we arrived at a rocky beach. It was emptying out when we arrived and it was past four, so we went back to Kapalua Bay, which we knew was a sure thing. After another nice snorkel, we watched the sunset and went out for dinner at the Maui Brewing Company which had an amazing Coconut Porter beer (I love coconut) that was almost a dessert. The fish tacos were pretty good too. I could hardly keep my eyes open and was asleep around 10 that night. The sound of the waves is soothing but also loud at high tide, so we slept with the sliding doors to the balcony closed.

Nebraska

When I told friends and co-workers that I was visiting Nebraska, they all shook there heads and wondered why. Apparently it didn't sounds exotic enough, didn't quite fit in with my other excursions to places like Mozambique or Mexico City. But I had a good reason to visit and I had a great time.
Michael grew up in a small Nebraska town, went to the university in Lincoln and still has family out there. It seemed to me he had been putting the visit off for some time, always saying the weather would be better in April, or there would be more to see in September. But the planets aligned and now we would be visiting for Halloween.
The trip didn't start off too well because we we're planning to fly to Omaha via Denver (no non-stop flights from anywhere in California to anywhere in Nebraska) when an early snow storm plowed into the Mile-High City. So we switched to transiting through Las Vegas, which didn't fare much better because we missed the first connection to Omaha and the second one was three hours later and still passed through Denver. But by this time, the airport was fully operational and the flights were pretty wide open. So now I ended up leaving a sunny and warm Los Angeles, transiting, a dry and cold Las Vegas, then a snowy and wintry Denver, only to arrive in a foggy and damp Omaha. It was after 9 and we still had a little over an hour's drive to Michael's sister's house in Lincoln.
We left Omaha and were quickly on quiet and dark Interstate 80 headed west past rolling farms and pastureland. There really wasn't anything to see because the fog was thick in certain stretches and then it was just plain dark elsewhere. Otherwise it was uneventful and we rolled into Lincoln just before 11pm. Michael's mother, Jo, was there as well delivering a new dog to his sister and her family. Jo had a light dinner waiting for us, which was quickly devoured after hugs and greetings.
After a shaky start to the trip, things really took off. We met up with several of Michael's college friends, had a great lunch, toured the magnificent state capitol ("third finest," some might say) building, and sipped fresh coffee. After my road trip from Chicago to Seattle one Summer, I was rudely aware of the fact that good coffee can be very hard to come by in the United States if you aren't near an ocean. Then the temperature began to climb and everyone became excited about 6o degree days in October. We had dinner at a wonderful Greek restaurant with ample vegetarian and vegan options. With everyone drinking wine, eating full meals and sharing desserts, the total was less than half what a similar meal would have cost in California. And I was treated to a stunning Nebraska sunset with orange and pink hues that shifted as clouds drifted by. The scene seemed to wrap around me and encompass nearly the entire sky.
The next day, we drove around Lincoln, staring at beautiful old brick homes that cost a hundred thousand dollars and were in tony parts of the city. But even more of a treat for me were the beautiful fall leaves that seemed to shine and sparkle to me. Bright yellows and shimmering oranges were glistening on long tree branches, or they were scattered in a perfect arrangement on the grass and sidewalks. It was really my first time seeing fall foliage in all its glory and I wasn't disappointed one bit. Normally this time of year would mean: warm days and cold nights, or dry Santa Ana winds parching the California landscape. But here is was the last brilliant display of color before the bleak and white winter cast a long shadow over the entire state.
On Halloween, we didn't have any plans but were invited to a party. It was Vickie, one of Michael's friends from college, her husband and their neighbor. All three were dressed up for the occasion and we were not. So we drove off into the dark Nebraska night to look for this party that ended up being way on the outskirts of town. The house was new and big and nice. It was decorated much like a party might be on that show "The Office," as Michael noticed. And like a party on TV, there was hardly anyone there and it was quiet with bad lighting. It was also one of those parties where you just want to take a peek and see if it might be fun, but it wasn't. So rather than turn around and walk out, I headed for the kitchen where all the alcohol was. Everyone was keeping to themselves, or was sequestered into small groups chatting and ignoring everyone else. When someone asked what my costume was, I said that I was a Concerned Parent. Michael just told everyone that he was from L.A. "Is that your costume?" people would ask. After a long hour or two, we headed back to Lincoln and swung by a club where everyone was dressed up and waiting outside to get in. Vickie was dressed in her pajamas with a cup of coffee and called herself a Blogger, while her husband wore a plaid shirt and carried around an ax. The neighbor put together a convincing Wolverine outfit from X-Men, complete with sharp metal protrusions from his hand. Whereas, I was still the Concerned Parent, and the humor was lost on everyone but me. It was busy at the club and everyone was dancing and laughing and running about. It reminded me of a club anywhere with no destination in particular. With no one from our group in the mood to dance, we headed out and went to bed shortly after one.
Sunday we left after breakfast to drive to Norfolk and see Michael's father and his family. We quickly left the city on a warm afternoon, the highway getting narrower and the cornfields growing larger and beginning to encompass the horizon. It was more hilly than I expected and the highways not as flat as I'd been told. "That's what western Nebraska look like," all the locals had said. We drove through towns like Prague and Dodge, with scarcely more than 300 people living in these tiny towns. It was Sunday and everything was closed, but I imagined that a Thursday didn't look anymore inviting. Lincoln seemed like a metropolis at this point.
Driving into Stanton, where Michael grew up, the town was closer to a thousand people but it was still small and quaint. There were large yards wrapping around old homes with no fences or walls. Trees near here had less leaves than down in Lincoln, which was only about three hours away. We had a nice lunch at the only open restaurant in downtown, where the owner new Michael's mother and had great things to say about her. They were closing as they had just finished serving brunch, but in true Midwest fashion, they didn't turn us away, rather they rustled up more food and invited us to stay for awhile. The whole time they wanted to chat and make us feel welcome, which they did to a great extent.
Michael's great aunt is 94 and lives alone in Stanton. She was relaxing in the afternoon with her glass of white zinfandel and invited us in for a drink. After her husband passed away, she started to travel. She went on cruises and safaris and generally tried to see the world and stay active. She asked us about our trip, about what was happening with the whole "gay marriage" thing in the country and how everyone was doing. I had met her once before when she was visiting Los Angeles to see her grandson (Michael's cousin). We had taken her to the Disney Concert Hall to see the Los Angeles Philharmonic and afterwards she was excited to hang out at a swanky downtown bar with all the young kids. Not having any relatives at her age still around, it was great to spend time with Aunt Lois.
From there it was a short drive to Norfolk, where we met Michael's father and then went out to dinner with his whole family. His father has two sons from his second marriage, each son is married and has one baby. It was great to meet everyone. They were all from Nebraska or thereabouts and hadn't really been to the West Coast at all. The idea of never seeing the Pacific Ocean or California, the desert, the Golden Gate Bridge, the Redwood trees, or the Sierra Nevadas is always intriguing to me. I never take for granted the beauty and diversity of living out west and I always think its important for everyone to see. Everyone said they would like to come visit California and later when we went back to the house to hang out and chat, the wives were inquisitive about life out in Los Angeles. I suppose it does seem somewhat alluring and intriguing when you haven't been there. These days everyone seem to love it or hate it and there is very little gray area on the matter. When they asked me about my thoughts on Nebraska, I talked about how quiet and beautiful everything was. The roads were never crowded, everything was pretty close, nothing seemed to cost as much and everyone was friendly. (I didn't talk about how white everyone was.) Almost more than that, I am fascinated by the homes in the Midwest. I'm amazed how everyone has a basement and how most are almost another house! They are huge. You enter someone's house and its nice and everything seems comfortable. Then you go to the basement and its basically a clone of the upstairs, but a little more relaxed, a little more homey and less formal. And that's good because you then get a sense of the person. Plus, you need somewhere to run when the tornado is headed your way. Everyone in the family has to collect something, and the basement is often the display forum for all the treasures you have amassed. I don't want a basement.
Next day we drove back to Lincoln and stopped in Wayne along the way. Its a small college town with about 5000 people and we figured they would have a decent coffee or espresso cafe; they didn't. The only other option was McDonalds, which ended up being a mistake. Odd, because I seem to remember getting their coffee in a pinch another time I was on the road and it held up better. Otherwise the drive back was scenic and pleasant.
The last day we stopped by Vickie's office before we left Lincoln. She works for a non-profit organization that gives out grants for art-related issues. Anyway, the building was designed by the Chinese architect I.M. Pei, whom I really like. Strange to see that he had a building in Lincoln, but it fit into the compact downtown area quite well and was elegantly muted with large glass panels providing nice views. There is also a three story open atrium on the ground floor which is airy and allows trees to grow inside. I expect its especially comfortable on blustery winter days when its bright blue and below freezing, or when the wind won't stop blowing snow all over creating some condition called a "white out" which I have never experienced. It sounds like a Midwest thing.
Back on the interstate headed to Omaha, we had lunch and walked around the revitalized downtown. Then we stopped at a cafe and had one last cup before heading to the airport. Flying out of Omaha on Southwest, we recognized the flight attendant and she recognized us. We had met a few years ago during a wine tasting weekend in Sonoma. She was quick to drop off several alcohol minis in our laps to make the flight go faster. It worked!

Los Angeles River

Sometimes I get so excited about leaving town that I forget to explore Los Angeles. And I used to explore all the time, riding buses and rails, visiting landmarks and perusing museums. This past weekend, I finally got off my butt to ride my bike along the LA River. Yes, its true, there is a river in Los Angeles, and its true that it has a bike path that stretches all the way to the Pacific Ocean. And in true LA style, its disjointed and only beautiful in only a few select locations.
Seeing as how I live so close to downtown, I was hoping I could ride down to the river's concrete banks and glide all the way down to the blue sea. There is a stretch near Glendale that is being slowly restored with trees and muddy banks. The concrete has been removed and the good people at Friends of the Los Angeles River (FOLAR)are working hard to allow the little blue ribbon of a stream that we call a river to revert to a more natural state. Then there is a gap all around downtown that is seems to only be reserved for a) construction, b) movie filming, or c) homeless people. So I had to catch an entrance to the bike path in the forgotten city of Vernon. This was too far to ride from my place, so I hopped on the Blue Line light rail from downtown and hopped off on sketchy Slauson Boulevard. It was all potholes and signs in Spanish as I rode my bike down the Boulevard east towards the river. After about 15 minutes, I was at the Vernon Riverfront Park, which looked like it just had a makeover and was now hosting three lonely people, plus myself. There were no signs telling me off access to the river, but I soon found it and was then on my way headed south to Long Beach.
The bike path is smooth and well maintained with mile markers and signs. At all the entrances and exits to the fenced off path, I didn't see many landmarks, nor much to let you know how to get to the river. You just sort of need to know where to find it, which, again, is a very Los Angeles trademark rule: you just have to know how to get there. The first mile marker worried me because it was 36 miles. As I rode along, I realized that was for folks headed from the rivers head water, way back in Chatsworth. I had about 13 miles to get to the river's mouth. I was already sort of tired at this point and I had only just found the bike path. It was bright and hot and the cool ocean breeze was working against me as a headwind. I noticed that most people were riding inland and the closer to the ocean I got, the more bikers I passed.
The river itself had water and was flowing at all points. There were birds nearly everywhere. Small egrets and seagulls scattered about. Stretches of long green algae flowing all around. A handful of bushes and shrubs lined areas of the concrete riverbed. Then there were the tipped over shopping carts, abandoned appliances, discarded clothes and occasional trash strewn all over. It wasn't all pretty, in fact there were very few areas were it was a nice and peaceful setting. Mostly, it was bare and sterile looking, much like an empty freeway. The concrete lining seemed to be a conductor to move all the water as quickly and efficiently as possible. There was no personality to the river, there was no excitement, no gentleness, and there was definitely very little natural feeling to it. The homes that lines the river were nearly equal to the riverbed, with a tall berm separating the two. And then the homes had their back turned to the river, shunning it and ignoring it. The river indeed, looked sad and forsaken in many stretches.
I passed factories, horse stables, new parks with drought-resistant, native plants, and many freeway underpasses. I also passed a handful of homeless and/or drunk people, as well as two tents were people were clearly living. I was listening to music with my headphones, but I don't think anyone tried to talk to me or engage in any sort of conversation. I passed one family, with two kids, biking along somewhere near the 91 freeway.
After about 7 or 8 miles on the bike path, I was nearing exhaustion. It was the headwind, the heat and the lack of motivation on my part to finish this adventure that made me turn off somewhere in Long Beach. It was near Wardlow Ave and still more than five miles from the end of the path. I was ready to hop back on the Blue Line and ride to the end. I could relax in the cooled rail car and then I'd be a heck of a lot closer to MVPs. I was now on a mission to visit my favorite burger stand in Long Beach. (Yes they do have veggie burgers.) From the Blue Line stop on 5th, it was about 10 minutes to MVPs where I ordered my lunch and then collapsed into a chair. It was cooler in Long Beach and it was kinda just how I remembered it when I lived there and went to college. I sat after my lunch and relaxed.
Then I rode down to Bluff Park where you can overlook the harbor, downtown Long Beach, the port and all the boats and ships coming and going. Not a cloud in the sky, but a nice steady ocean breeze whipped through the air. It was great to sit on a bench and take in the sights and sounds. I wasn't sad that I abandoned the river and I didn't regret not making it to the end of the line. That could all wait for another day, one with cooler temperatures and more clouds. I rode down to the bike path that snaked along the white sand beach from Belmont Shore to downtown Long Beach where I hopped on the Blue Line to head back to downtown Los Angeles.
It was a random and exhausting day, but I had fun. The river seems to be a somewhat morbid fascination. I feel like it needs more attention. OK, it definitely needs more attention, its in a sorry state. I still have the romantic idea of biking all the way to the ocean.