La Bella Vita

I slept in late, it is vacation after all!  Then I parked myself on the couch to watch Le Tour.  Lib and I ate lunch at the hipster hot spot Homegrown.  Everything is locally sourced and there is no waste- the lunch tray gets washed, the utensils, napkins, and excess food goes into the compost (if there’s anything left, it’s recyclable).  I felt uber hipster, the food was delicious too which was a bonus.  Lib and I headed to Queen Anne to go to the chocolate artisian Chocopolis.  If you are not familiar with what a chocolate artisian is, they explain it, but I’m not sure I totally understand.  Something about where the cocoa beans come from, the percentage chocolate (although they add this isn’t the most important), and stuff about flavors.  All that aside, the chocolate was beautiful.  In fact so beautiful I haven’t been able to eat it yet.  I did have a sample of spicy aztec chocolate, which was delicious but put me into a sneezing fit.

After regrouping at the homefront we headed out to dinner at 360.  The name derives from the fact that all of the food is acquired from a 360 mile radius, again very hipster.  My beverage was a biting mule- a refreshing mix of spicy ginger beer, vodka and lime.  Steven ordered the rose flight and Lib went for the pregnancy appropriate lemon lime soda.  For dinner, I ordered the Rock fish.  It was perfectly grilled and placed on a bed of quinoa (a hipster version of rice) and spinach.  Steven ordered a rabbit leg (I couldn’t get over something that was keeping me from trying it).  He failed to ask the waitress if it was a wascally wabbit.  Lib got pasta in Bolognese sauce; interestingly enough it was a vegetarian dish.  The sauce was made from locally foraged mushrooms (by locally foraged, I’m sincerely hoping they went a good distance outside of the city limits closer to the 360 miles permitted).  Dinner hit the spot and we headed back to the home front for an early night.

The Rose Flight

Tamara and I came up with the brilliant idea that we would get a very early start to the day since I had a long drive back to Seattle.  It was raining hard when we got up for breakfast and the breakfast crowd was noticeably smaller than the previous day and other.  Fair-weather wimps were packing up their bikes and tents to hit the road home; but I didn’t fly and drive all the way to Oregon not to ride!  I have always loved sausage links and was grateful that breakfast every morning included some greasy links.  I was even more grateful that Libby let me borrow her Castelli cycling rain jacket.  We hit the road by 7:30 am and the rain and wind were coming hard.  We were headed into a direct headwind and my legs were feeling yesterday’s miles.  Before we hit sag stop one, a sag van passed.  I stuck out my thumb facing downward as instructed to do if you required a sag pick up.  The van passed on by and my stomach dropped.  It passed a second time and my thumb was down and my mood was out.  She pulled the van to the side of the road.  I begged to get in.  The sag wagon driver was a grumpy old codger who first told me to try to make it to the rest stop and then told me I would be just as wet at the sag stop.  Tamara pretty much told her we were getting in the van.  Once in the van, she shamed us for getting in.  To make a long story short, the sag van experience left a really bad taste in my mouth and I didn’t want it to sour my weekend and neither did Tamara.  As she stopped to pick up more passengers, we asked to get out.  The clouds had cleared a bit and the wind had let up a bit.  We hopped back on the bikes and decided to do the short route.  When we hit the first rest stop I suggested we loop back around and do the medium route.  Tamara agreed and Cycle Oregon Day 2 was back on.  Somewhere into the headwind I regretting deciding to do the medium route, but once my legs got back into a rhythm, it was good to be back on the bike.  There were intermittent showers all day.  I was hungry at the lunch stop, but couldn’t stop shaking from cold when we stopped.  I saw the lunch band had hot water for tea and I couldn’t help myself from sneaking back to grab a cup of hot water.  The rest of the ride had intermittent showers, but it was a good ride and, thankfully, much flatter than the previous day.  We were both glad we decided to do the ride.

Cycle Oregon Complete!

After arriving back at the camp site, I got changed into some dry clothes and we packed up the tent.  I said goodbye to Tamara and hit the road to Seattle (with a quick stop to drop off the tent).

Five hours later and I was ready for a shower and, of course, a snooze.  Steven insisted on a quick walk to Discovery Park to see the sunset and it was worth the delay in sleeping.  A warm shower and a real bed, ahhhhhh.

Around two in the morning, nature called.  It was raining hard as I climbed out of the tent and threw my shoes on.  Somewhere while looking for the port-o-pots I decided that I should book more luxurious vacations.  It was in the middle of this thought that I realized I didn’t have my glasses on and couldn’t distinguish large tents from port-o-pots.  I finally did, but the wandering in the rain, sockless in my sneakers caused some serious blistering. 

The alarm rang much too early for vacation.  We headed up for breakfast and coffee and joined all the other cyclists for the day.  It was a fun group of people, all there to ride their bikes and have a good time.  The atmosphere was fantastic. 

We hit the road and so began some beautiful cycling.  The ride started off with some small rollers, around mile 25ish things got serious- a steady 7% grade climb.  My leggies were used to the flat farmlands of Indiana.  It felt like my thighs were going to explode, but the view was breathtaking.  The descent was spectacular: winding roads and tall pines trees.  The lunch sag had a live band and it was good to take a break from the bike.  Cycle Oregon did a great job making sure trash from the lunch sag was recycled or composted. The live bands we encountered so far have been fantastic. 

After lunch was another serious climb with an equally awesome descent.  Oregon is a beautiful state.  The day was slightly overcast, making it perfect for riding.  68 miles logged in for the day.  After we pulled into OSU’s campus, we biked to the rec center so Tamara could swim (I don’t know how anyone could feel the need for extra exercise) and I could relax in the hot tub.  After my microbiology course, I make it a point to avoid public hot tubs, but this was a welcomed exception.  I took a hot shower and headed back to the tent.  Unfortunately, I had great difficulty locating our tent.  This was turning into a theme.  It turns out our tent had blown over and moved a bit. 

Could have used a few more stakes to secure the tent

Getting things rearranged, I headed up to the main area for dinner- burgers, baked beans, and a brewsky.  Again there were live bands at the main stage.  The ride didn’t have the hardcore roadies who swagger around oozing with bravado and tend to make touring rides a lot of no fun.  The weekend was a fun, family oriented, easy, love of cycling type of weekend.  I made a quick trip to the grocery store to pick up some essentials- namely a jar of baby dill pickles (one of my favorite post ride recovery foods) and some ear plugs. 

Despite a torrential downpour for most of the night, my ear plugs were a fantastic purchase and I slept like a baby. 

Day One of Riding

As per the usual, leaving for vacation happened in what can only be described as a cloud of hen shit.  It involved a post call stupor, rapid packing, and little sleep- the rest is details but safe to say I arrived at the airport on time and had an uneventful flight to Seattle.  Steven picked me up at the airport and the cloud continued as I rushed to the house, took a quick nap, and packed Lib’s bike and camping equipment in the Jolly Lib Giant and hit the road to Corvallis, Oregon.

A fog delay flying into Chicago made for a tight connection

When trip planning, googlemaps had assured me the drive from Seattle to Corvallis would take about 4 to 4.5 hours.  This did not account for traffic snarls in Seattle and around Portland.  The estimated time of arrival kept getting longer and longer on GPS.  Somewhere about 4 podcasts of Radiolab into the drive I got a panicked call from my friend Tamara- my buddy I met while she was studying at Yale and who was supposed to be meeting me in Corvallis with camping equipment for the Cycle Oregon weekend.  It turns out she grabbed the wrong poles for the tent.    I was sure we could be accommodated in the dorms or, this being the pacific northwest, should encounter an REI in the next five miles.  I ended up detouring to Salem, Oregon to pick up a tent from a friend of hers. 

6ish hours later and a full 18 hours of travel later, I arrived in Corvallis just in time for dinner while listening to a live band.  It was good to see Tamara again; I haven’t seen her in two years.  Tents were pitched across the greens of the Oregon State University campus and we found the ideal spot for our tent.

My night was restless.  It turns out my camping buddy has a snoring issue.  It rained and my feet were hot. 

Banyan Tree

Another early morning.  We ate breakfast at the resort: fresh papaya, fresh pineapple, oatmeal, and (of course) coffee.  We loaded in the trusty Elantra and headed on the road past Hana (which proved as treacherous as the road to Hana) to Haleakala National Park.  Having seen the lava side, it was time to explore the lush jungle side.  We were one of the first people at the Park and, after getting the obligatory park patches, hit the trail to Makahiku Falls.  The Hawaiian proverb posted on the entrance to the trail reads “He wai makamaka ‘ole,” meaning: water that recognizes no friend (we’ll get to that part later).  The hike started off benignly enough into the forest  We continued up slippery rocks and over the roots of large banyan trees on the Pipiwai trail.  The skies opened up again in a downpour, but the rain was welcomingly cool.  Several signs on either side of the trail repeatively warned against the steep drop-offs and that fatalities can occur.  (side note: before entering the trail, there were several articles posted regarding fatalities in the park).  The heavy rains for the past two days caused parts of the trail to be closed due to flash flooding, and the waterfalls and rivers were running high. The first mile of the trail was a bamboo forest.  There were so many bamboo trees, it’s hard to describe or even imagine.   We trekked onward and ended up on raised platforms that form a good portion of the trail.  Half a mile into the hike we saw the falls at Makahiku.  Higher and higher we climbed with occasional views of rushing waters off to the side.  The scenery was lush greens on all sides and above.  After about an hour the foliage opened up and on all sides were rushing water falls.  The Waimoku falls extend upward hundreds and hundreds of feet.  These were definitely waters that know no friends.  I can’t imagine what it must have been like to stumble upon this area hundreds of years ago.  The water rushed with such force and ferocity.  We hiked back making slightly better time than on the way out. 

Having not taken an allergy pill I was struck with a case of generalized puritis (crawling out of my skin) and stopped on a park bench to rest my legs and calm my skin while Steven and Libby hiked out to the coast.  We hopped back in the car, exhausted, ate some oatmeal cream pies and headed out of the park before the crowds picked up.

The road back to Hana – I will just say the whole damn road to, from, and around Hana is nightmarish.  I thought I would be witnessing divorce papers as Steven drove (he did a great job) and Lib and I panicked.  It was from the vantage point of being a rear passenger that I realized the bridges we were crossing were constructed in 1910, eeks.  We stopped at the Surfing Burro food truck for burritos and fruit drinks that definitely hit the spot.  Once back at the Travassa Hana, we quickly changed into our swimsuits and headed back to the beach for snorkeling.  There’s no rest when the vacation countdown has started!

We picked up our snorkeling gear and headed down to the Hana Bay Beach.  The black sand was soft and HOT HOT HOT.  We dove into the refreshing water with gear in tow only to discover that we couldn’t see anything because of the black sands.  Lib and I threw our gear back in the car and headed out for a swim.  Steven continued to snorkel which we confused for drowning.  We swam with mad fury to discover he is just ungraceful at diving, but had discovered a coral reef.  We ran back for the snorkeling gear and swam back out.  In the process a large wave struck and I lost my snorkel goggles.  Swimming beneath the water we could see the reef and lots of fish.  It was another whole world.  I swallowed quite a bit of salty water too, and managed to lose my snorkel to match the missing goggles.  We called it good and packed up the car to head to the next beach.

The waves were huge at the next beach, Hamoa Beach, and Lib and I were content to hang out on shore while Steven swam through the waves.  We finally made it back to the condo, showered, and the Balteses required a nap.

We walked to the nearby Hana Ranch for dinner.  The ranch sits up on a hill outside of the resort complex and we could see the storm brewing and blowing in from the ocean.  The nightly Mai Tai was called for.  Lib ordered some BBQ ribs with fries, while I got a Hawaiian flank steak and Steven got Mahi fish tacos.  Dinner was delicious and the rain cleared in time for the walk back home.

Good night from my last night in Hawaii, em

We headed into Paia for breakfast at Des Amis Cafe, an excellent choice.  Our breakfast consisted of strong, dark, but not acidic coffee, a crepe with cane sugar and lime, a crepe with bananas and chocolate and my breakfast burrito.  Whoa the burrito- it had potatoes, eggs, cheese and a spicy, flavorful curry sauce all wrapped in a lightly toasted shell.  The rain pounded hard while we finished our breakfast and started our journey on the Road to Hana.

First stop on the famous two lane (but actually mostly one lane) curvy, jungle highway was Twin Falls.  After passing a dilapidated bus selling questionable food, we headed to see the falls.  There were very impressive, especially after the recent downpours.  However, the area was overcrowded with tourists and not our favorite spot.  Next stop was Jaws.  Jaws is a mecca for the die hard surfer and boasts waves up to 40 feet.  Our Hundai Elantra took a sharp left turn off the highway and down the muddy potted asphalt descent to the ocean.  We first passed some sort of barely unrecognizable Chevy Tahoe that drove it’s last drive on the side of the road- hood popped, windows smashed out and tires buried in the sand.  A few windy turns more and we came upon the next victim of the road which couldn’t make it out.  As the rain continued, it became apparent that our little Hundai very well could be the next victim of Jaws.  To avoid vacation disaster we turned around with a graceful 70 point turn and headed back to the highway.

Next stop was a bamboo forrest.  After a muddy climb down we found ourselves surrounded on all sides by hundreds of thin, tall, waving bamboo trees.  As the wind rustled, the hollow trees swayed and smacked together.  There were bamboo trees and shoots as far as you could see.  As we moved further away from the main road, springs and waterfalls were present.  The lush jungle was such a sharp contrast to the lava fields and beaches of Wailai. 

Back on the road Steven navigated the Elantra around tight corners and rickety roadways with terrifying screams from myself and Lib.  Our next stop was a lava tube, formed underneath the ground from sideways explosions of lava which tunneled through the earth.  Reading the placards in the tube, we pieced together a profile of the owner of the lava tube- a creepy, wealthy recluse who stockpiled days worth of food and supplies for himself and a harem of 14 women in the event of an apocalypse or nuclear invasion.  I imagine he will be hard pressed to find 14 women to share the cave with him.  Regardless, it was an interesting brief hike.

Our final stop on the highway was by far the best, Waianapanapa State Park.  On our trip we had come to equate state parks with mossy bathrooms, but this one was a welcome change.  A short hike took us to an overlook of the black sand beaches.  Giant waves crashed into the lava rock that formed the coast.  In a small bay the rock was crushed to finally ground sand, which of course we had to hike down to see for ourselves.  The sand was soft and smooth.

We finished the highway after Lib and I changed spots several times to avoid motion sickness inevitable with the endless hairpin turns and bridges.  Halfway through our drive we came to realize the wisdom of one of Libby’s high school students who advised her before the trip “You don’t drive the whole highway, you go an hour or two to get the idea and come back.”  The road was a never ending chain of white knuckling around curves with no guardrails and bridges constructed in 1910 with no renovations since.  The speed limit was 20 mph and that was pushing it.  Every time a car approached from the opposite direction it was a game of chicken and maneuvering wherein one car had to come to a complete stop and land partly in brush to permit the other to pass.  Small fruit stands spotted the side of the highway and there seemed to be an infestation of feral cats.  It was the first time all of us spotted a mongoose.  My brother had a Mongoose bicycle growing up, so I had always imagined a Mongoose to be something like a Mountain Lion and was surprised and disappointed to discover it is a mix between a guinea pig and a rat.

After the arduous trek, we arrived at Travassa Hana, an eco resort paradise.  Because of a mix-up with our room we had to wait for our much needed showers and in exchange were upgraded to a beach view condo.  The view was paradise, the condo was perfect.  So far I have ascertained that to qualify as “eco” means the resort doesn’t launder your towels, provides no outlets, not enough reading light and no Telly.  It was perfect though.  We showered and headed up for dinner and mai tais.  Fresh fish that was caught that day (I wanted to ask if it was caught at the 9 am bamboo fish spearing class, but my social graces told me not to).  I had the pan seared Ahi. Steven and Lib had Okapakaka.  After that day, I will sleep well.  Aloha and goodnight, em. 

Another early morning.  This morning was a little more difficult as we were all worn out from yesterday’s epic cycling day.  A storm came brewing in overnight dumping rain and causing gale force winds.  We drove to Lahaina for surfing lessons at Goofy foot surfing school.  We were questioning surfing on the way there because of the weather, but it seemed like a bucket list thing to do.  We arrived to find every other surf school had closed and our instructor pulled us aside, much to the dismay of the owner, to tell us it really wasn’t a good idea to surf.  Honestly, given the soreness of my legs and my bottom (see previous post about not bringing a saddle), it was a welcome cancellation.  We decided to drive through Lahaina to find a place to grab coffee.  Lahaina is a sad town: it was obviously once the rich ocean front getaway that has been abandoned for newer beaches.  We passed by an old missionary house built in 1824.  In the book “Hawaii” I am right at the point where the missionaries landed in Lahaina and try to convert the Hawaiians and find themselves clashing with the sailors.  We passed a plaque at the center of town talking about how the pious missionaries fought with the sailors and it reminded me of the passage from Hawaii when Malama, the Alii Nui (basically the Queen), is talking about the missionary states “Isn’t it strange?  The little man spends so much time telling us how the Hawaiians ought to behave, but it is always his people who do the wrong thing.”

For lunch with headed to Mama’s Fish House.  Words cannot describe how amazing the food was.  Lib and Steven ordered French press coffee.  It was the best coffee we have had so far, strong but not bitter.  We each received a small tasting of lobster bisque to start followed by warm bread and butter.  For an appetizer we ordered Mama’s Polynesian beef which was served inside a grilled papaya.   The papaya was fresh, sweet, and scooped out easily with the beef.  Steven ordered the Traditional Hawaiian Dinner which consisted of grilled mahimahi, wild boar slow cooked in a ti leaf, octopus luau, ahi poki, poi (taro stem pudding) and purple sweet potatoes.  The portions were the perfect size and the combination of flavors was incredible.  I ordered uku, mahimahi, and ahi sautéed in Panag curry and coconut milk with mango chutney.  Lib ordered the ehu fish which was grilled with Hana ginger and heart of palm.

I ordered a mai tai which came in a tiki glass and Steven ordered a plantation punch (a mix of various juices and rum).  Dessert was fresh tropical fruit served inside a coconut and espressos.  

After dinner we headed up the coast and watched the locals surf the waves.
The winds were still strong and our decision to not surf was definitely a good one.

No day in Hawaii would be complete without a walk on the beach.  The raining stopped, but the winds continued.  This is our last night at Sugar beach and it will be sad to no longer be able to talk long walks on the beach every night.  Until tomorrow, Em

After a full day of riding and a quick nap, it was safe to assume we needed food.  Steven picked out a nice Italian restaurant that claimed they made their pasta daily (I’m not sure I would trust Italian food in the tropics, but it sounded delicious).  Upon arriving we discovered the restaurant had been defunct for over two years so we claimed a table at the slightly trashy “Beach Bum’s Bikini Bar.”  It boasted the best bbq in Maui, which I highly doubted.  To test their claim I ordered baby back ribs with baked beans and Libby and Steven ordered pulled pork sandwiches.  The ribs were succulent with a smoky flavor and a zesty sauce on top.  The pulled pork was perfectly cooked, lightly seasoned and placed atop a slightly toasted bun.  The food was great and, I daresay, the best bbq in Maui.

After dinner it was back for a quick walk on the beach before calling it a night.  My windowsill bed was a welcome sight.  

Today was the day for the big cycling venture.  Again it started with another early morning.  I pounded some Hawaiian acai energy drink and felt jittery enough to stay awake for days.  Breakfast consisted of musubi, a traditional Hawaiian sandwich of sorts consisting of a greasy slab of meat (either fried chicken or spam, I chose the former while Steven chose the later (how do his bowels let him get away with this stuff?!)) and a sushi rice patty secured together with a wrap of seaweed.  With the required fuel in the tanks, we headed to Maui cyclery to pick up our steeds.

The bike shop seemed to function on island time and hitting the road before it became blazing hot didn’t seem of much concern to these folks.  After adding a few of our own parts to our bikes and making some minor adjustments we hit the road with the goal of summiting the great volcano.  I made the cardinal sin of travel cycling in not brining my saddle (enquire for reasons), this proved one of many crucial mistakes.  Not long after hitting the pavement, the sun decided to join in full force.

The road out of Paia to Halekala was a steady incline.  Steven quickly broke off with a tour guide who was in no shape to join him.  Lib and I rode a slow, steady pace with Kurt, a tour guide with leg muscles so enormous they looked like they would burst at any minute.  At around 2,000 feet the sun was roasting and we switched guides- Lib and I got the dopey guy who headed out with Steven and Steven got Mr. Beefcakes.  Further along the road it became evident that no matter how many energy goo packets I consumed my legs were like our poor Hundai Elantre from yesterday- a few cylinders short.  Lib graciously peeled off with me and the guide and we headed, after more endless climbing, to a side road and off to Grandmother’s coffee.  In total we made it 5,000 feet.

Espresso and banana bread never tasted so good.  Lib and I remounted the bikes ready to head onward only to discover Rob, our trusty guide, poking around the coffee shop, saying hello to the dog next door, then venturing to a nearby shop.  It was evident that Rob’s legs were worse off than ours and he was employing endless stall tactics to avoid getting back on the bike.  Finally we forged onward.  We took a single lane road that winded around Oprah’s estate.  The land is bordered by lava stone fences that were placed when the Chinese first came over (note: this bit of history was supplied by Rob, who couldn’t even name the other Volcano on the island, so take it for what you will).     We descended for miles on switchback roads overlooking the island and the ocean.  From the vantage point you could see the inversion layer, the houses below, the beaches, and the ocean.  The view was worth the climb.

Steven was plagued by a mechanical problem with his bike seat which was changed out around the 7,000 foot mark and climbed further onward while Lib and I tracked his progress via a GPS unit while we parked ourselves at a nearby pizza joint.  On the recommendation of our waiter, a hipster with a curved handlebar mustache, we chose the Hawaiian pizza.  An excellent choice- it had barbecue sauce, pulled pork, caramelized onions, and goat cheese.  I enjoyed a cold, Kona brewsky.  We headed over for coffee and picked up gelato just in time for Steven’s return.

I would love to say Steven was beaming, but he looked more like death warmed over.  Salt had precipitated down his face and he consumed his two scoop waffle cone gelato in about 10 seconds.  We piled him in the car where he finished the rest of the pizza in about as much time as it took him to eat the gelato.  He pulled his shiny medallion he picked up at the top of the volcano and stated emphatically, “I’m never doing that again.”  A short drive back to the condo meant showers, walking on the beach and, of course, napping.

Better get rested up, I signed us up for 6:30 am surfing lessons in the morning.  Aloha and goodnight, em.

Thanks to the time difference I am able to do what is typically unthinkable for me, wake up early.  We ate a quick breakfast of yogurt, fresh fruit, and granola before packing up and driving to the Kaleakala National Park.  The drive was… terrifying.  Our rental, a 4 cylinder Hundai Elantari, sounded like it was what us athletes call “bonking.”  The drive involved multiple switchbacks to climb to the 10,000 foot crest of the volcanic crater.  Even more terrifying was knowing that this would be our cycling route for the next day; which proved the idiom “ignorance is bliss” to be correct.  On the drive up, we spotted the national bird (and also title of some ridiculous dance) the Nene.   We decided to take a moderate hike to save our lower extremities for tomorrow.  Once out of the car and onto the lava trails we encountered a very knowledgable national park guard.  Interestingly enough he had an Ironman earring in and when asked about it stated “oh yes, I did Kona.  A long, long time ago with a body far, far away.”  He likened volcanoes to people, “They’re either active, dead, or dormant.”  This reminded me of our newly launched electronic medical records system at my old job wherein the available entry for a patient was “alive, dead, or other.”  A volcanic expert must have been responsible for those choices.  The name Haleakala means “House of the Sun.”  According to local legend, the god Maui entrapped the sun here in order to make the day longer.

Haleakala

There are two main trails: Halemau’u and sliding sands, we opted for the later.  From the crest of the trail, we could see the inversion layer- this happens when the cold air from the ocean comes inland and strikes the crater, cools down and forms a cloud layer.  It’s breathtaking.  Looking down into the crater are several cones that have formed from lava erupting upward.  The lava that flows from this volcano is less explosive than that found in northwestern United States resulted in multiple layers.  From the top of the trail we could look out on the Mauna Loa, the largest volcano on earth.

The views were breathtaking, but difficult with the altitude change.  I encouraged my traveling buddies to turn around and head back to the car.  Once back we enjoyed chocolate covered macadamia nuts and an equally terrifying drive back down the crater.

Hiking always requires Balteses to nap, which we did.  We headed out to the grocery and grilled hamburgers out on the beach.  A night swim in the ocean was a perfect end to another day in paradise.  With that, I am signing off early to get my legs ready for tomorrow, em