Maui
FINALE
Maybe it had to do with the Costco and Kmart we rode by on our way out of the rental-car-packed parking lot at Kahului Airport, but we wanted out of the sprawl and headed straight to the Kahekili Highway, the serpentine coastal road that curves around the undeveloped northeastern side of the West Maui Mountains. The top small circle of “8shaped” Maui is an extinct volcano now dwarfed and welded by an isthmus to the giant Haleakalà. The one-lane road is winding and narrow and its pavement is covered with a thin layer of red dust. Soon after a stop at Julia’s banana-bread stand for a shaved ice cone and, well, banana bread, I find Pierre standing and holding his wrist, his 125-lb. bike twisted and lying on its side in the middle of the path. He’s fallen hard, and over the afternoon, his hand, wrist and forearm will slowly inflate like a balloon. He has timed his crash well, for in 24 hours, Alice and Maurice Bouchard are landing on Maui for their yearly holiday and he’ll be able to nurse his arm and hand back to health in their air-conditioned condo and rental car! Still he had yet to pedal and manoeuvre his burdened bike over the 80 kilometres that separated us from the Kihei rental . . . with a single hand! We join in the solid line of convertible cars heading to Maui’s attractions: historic Lahaina Harbor, the lava flow at Ahihi-Kinau Natural Reserve, Big Beach and Little Beach, the windsurfers at Ho’okipa Beach Park, ono fish n’ chips and mahi mahi burger at Paia Fish Market, the steep and eroded Iao Valley and Haleakalà volcano. The classic popular image of a cone-shaped mountain with a neat round crater at the top that’s filled with bubbling lava and spouts columns of liquid fire is not to be found in Hawaii. Haleakalà and all Hawaiian volanoes are shield volcanoes, which grow slowly and steadily rather than violently, adding layer upon layer as lava seeps out of fissures and vents. The result is a long, low profile, resembling a warrior’s shield laid on the ground. From the quiet villages of Upcountry, on the lower western slopes of the volcano, the Haleakalà Crater Road twists through the meadows to the National Park visitor centre and lookout at 3,055 metres of altitude. The way up turns into a real torment of Tantalus. The pavement is smooth, crossing a bewildering succession of terrains, equivalent to a trip from Mexico to Alaska, with the air becoming crisp and thin as we sit at the back of a Ford Fusion! From the crater’s edge, we are released from what has become a space capsule, and we both charge down the Sliding Sands trail along a scree slope of red ash. It takes a while to appreciate the immensity of the crater, the Martian landscape of cinder cones glinting with pink, red, yellow and ochre highlights in the bright sun. Dr. Pierre has determined himself fit to ride so we head out on the Hàna Highway. The road to the former sugar town of Hàna, hacked into the coastal cliffs, twists tortuously in and out of gorges, past innumerable waterfalls and over more than 50 one-lane bridges in 85 kilometres! This is the windward side of Maui, the rainy side, the lush side. South of Hàna, the road narrows and gives way to the Piilani Highway. All the rental car companies forbid their clients to come this way, and after leaving the organic fruit stand at Kipahulu, there won’t be anymore PT Cruisers for two days on the leeward side of the island. Enjoyable reprieve! We got back to Kahului and rolled on to the Hawai’i SuperFerry, which cruised to Ohahu and Honolulu, Alice and Maurice’s last Hawaian stopover. We left them on Waikiki and its jungle of glass and metal and get on a plane, this time to fly to Lihue, on Kaua’i.
RING OF FIRE Hawaiian Bull’s Eye From the driest South American deserts to the overgrown jungle of Papua New Guinea and up to wild Kamchatka and Alaska, the Pacific Ring of Fire and its active volcanoes have taken us to some of the most far-flung and off-the-beaten-path spots on the circumference of the great ocean. Sixty-thousand kilometres later, we’ve come full circle from Vancouver to Vancouver, and are flying to one of the most well-known and developed tourist meccas: Hawaii! The idea to include the island group is not too much of a stretch since it consists of the summits of a chain of submarine volcanoes. Their very central Pacific location made us consider them as the obvious Pacific Ring of Fire’s bull’s eye, its belly-button . . . the cherry on the sundae! photos and story by Janick Lemieux & pierre bouchard
Rush hour on Kaua’i’s Kuhio Highway. (insets l-r) Free-flowing pahoehoe lava. Lava from the
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Thanksgiving Eve vent meets the Pacific Ocean. Endangered Pacific green turtle.
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Kaua’i The island of Kaua’i has been floating on the Pacific plate, away from the Hawaii Hotspot — a fixed mantle plume responsible for building all Hawaiian volcanoes — for six million years. The oldest of the archipelago’s main islands has been eroded and sculpted by time into the “garden island.” The exuberant neon-green vegetation along Kaumuali’i Highway is the first hint that Kaua’i is not short on precipitation. The bumper sticker “No Rain, No Rainbow” that we see on pickup trucks parked at Waimea Big Save emphasizes the point. The Waimea Canyon Drive climbs adjacent to Waimea Canyon with views of the breathtaking ravine until humidity-saturated clouds engulf everything but the white line on the pavement. A covered lookout is a welcome relief as the clouds burst and curtains of water beat down on the tin roof. And this is the dry side of Kaua’i! At Milepost 15 is Koke’e Lodge and its chicken-feces-coated picnic pavilion. Feral hens and roosters are found across the archipelago, but mongooses were never introduced to Kaua’i, and the population grew to become an “official un-endangered species.” With rain showers coming at regular intervals, the structure is still a tempting hideout for the night. The tables are cleaner than the ground, but since sitting on a table is a Polynesian taboo, we guess sleeping on them would be scandalous, and chose to gather five benches together. Good night! Three miles farther, the road squeezes to a halt in front of the vast, magnificent panorama of Kalaulau Valley. On either side of the broad valley floor soar sheer green walls pleated into deep grooves through which slender white waterfalls plunge. A cul-de-sac to remember. . . . The Kuhio Highway wraps around and leads through the East Coast and back up toward the stunning North Shore. Here we come! After a slippery and wet hike on the famous Kalalau Trail, we retreat to a bunk bed at the Kapaa Beach House while a Niagara of rain comes down for two days. We have some of Kaua’i red dirt all over our panniers, bikes, legs, arms and foreheads by the time we make it back to Lihue Airport.
Hawai’i Ancient Hawaiian laws were determined by gods and were concerned with infractions of the intricate system of Kapu (taboo). If one swam under the canoe of a woman, wore yellow feathers or walked on a chief’s shadow, for example, the penalty was always death. The only chance for survival was to reach a pu’uhonua, a place of refuge such as O Honaunau on a small peninsula of jagged black lava on the Big Island’s Kona Coast. The idea was that any condemned criminal who succeeded in reaching the well-guarded place would undergo a short ritual and then be free to leave and reintegrate into his or her community. The National Park is probably an embellished reconstruction of what those royal grounds looked like before they were destroyed by Europeans, nevertheless the site is a glimpse into the island’s past. Images of fearsome wooden idols, remains of a royal palace, complete with fishpond, beach and private canoe landing in the quiet desert air remain with us as we continue on the busy Hawai’i Belt Road. From the Punaluu Beach Park, and the nesting Hornbill turtles, a gradual uphill of 43 kilometres amongst shrubs takes us to the entrance of Hawai’i Volcano National Park. After riding around the Pacific Ocean from one active volcano to the next, we feel like kissing the ground! We load our backpacks and hide the bikes in the forest where the road ends on Mauna Loa’s eastern slope. The 4,169-metre-high summit of the “long mountain” is a two-day walk in a lava wonderland. Smooth black paohehoe lava covered with gold and manganese metal with its blue highlights convert to spiky rusty a’ha. Here and there, red cinder cones bring contrast and relief to the treeless journey. It is a pleasant surprise to find a mother-daughter duo at the summit cabin on Christmas Eve, and when Alana offers to sing carols with her celestial voice, we have a party! The local women are on a spiritual trek, and when a serious snowstorm starts in the middle of the night, Joanna asserts that baby Jesus has sent two Canadians to save them! On Christmas morning, the wind is still blowing hard and hail is pounding the tin roof of the shelter. We promise our new friends that no one will die frozen on the volcano today and start the two-day descent in ice, snow, sleet and freezing rain. At the trailhead, we walk by our hidden bikes and accept the ride and invite to their house in Hilo. After a much-needed hot shower and load of laundry, (top) Time to celebrate we learn that the whole town is talking about the storm and another milestone on our that the visible summit of Mauna Loa is whiter than it has ever Ring of Fire journey. been in years! At Café Pesto (a bring-your-own-wine restaurant) (centre) Tiki carving of fierce to eat a well-deserved pizza, Joanna confesses that she has Polynesian god. (bottom) something she wants to get rid of: a bottle of 1996 Château Pitstop view of lush Hanalei Haut-Marbuzet! Mahalo! valley in Kaua’i. 66
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A step up after walking on petrified lava for the most of a week is a walk on lava while it is still flowing. One early morning, we leave our tent in the vicinity of Kalapana and start walking inland toward Puu Oo, a cinder/spatter cone of Kilauea volcano that’s been erupting continuously since 1983. The lava travels down through a series of lava tubes all the way to the ocean, and a great steam plume marks the point where the hot lava enters the cold ocean. Eventually we come upon some orange lava coming slowly toward us. This is both moving and nerve-wracking. At 1,200ºC, this thick soup of minerals in fusion could be flowing in a tube underneath our feet so we move quickly, taking pictures and video before returning to firm ground, giddy with excitement. On a streak of volcanic-fantasy fulfilment, we put cleats to pedal and head to our final destination, our “cyclovolcanic” quest’s ultimate mission! Mauna Kea rises to 4,205 metres above sea level and, lucky us, there is a road to the summit! The Saddle Road traverses the Big Island and climbs steadily between Mauna Loa and Mauna Kea. At Mile Marker 28 is the turnoff for the Mauna Kea Access Road. Did you say granny gear? By the time the lavishly titled Onizuka Center for International Astronomy Visitor Information Station comes into view at 3,000 metres of altitude, we are cheered to learn that we have made it in time for the nightly stargazing session. Some hot chocolate and Cup-A-Noodle while looking at the North Star, Orion, Betelgeuse, Venus, Taurus and Aries erase all frustrations. Still, the next day we leave the bikes in the forest again — the rest of the way up is a “four-wheel-drive only,” 17% incline, no guardrails, dirt road to the summit and into thin air — and head out on the Humu’hula Trail. It’s a steep hike and the altitude has us gasping for air, but the blue sky and the panoramic view are pulling us toward our goal. First, we come across the frozen waters of Lake Wai’au, and then small white dots appear on the horizon. As we come closer, the 13 telescopes reveal their magnitude. The idea to put astronomical observatories at the summit of the resting volcano was conceived in the 1960s and deemed hare-brained, but today they are amongst the most sophisticated, efficient and largest in the world. We find the highest of the many domes and cones scattered at the summit and hike up there for a celebratory photo. The clouds have moved in miles below, the sun is setting slowly, the warm light is dancing on the snowy summit, and it starts to sink in: this is the last volcano. We have just dedicated 10 years of our lives to cycle around the Pacific Ring of Fire, and its volcanoes have been great road companions and become good friends. We will miss them dearly. . . . www.pedalmag.com
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