Crater of Silence Ella Sheehan

Crater of Silence

Ididn’t want to be there. All I wanted was to be back at home, wrapped up in a cozy blanket. Such a simple wish had never seemed so far out of reach. With all my motivation to be finished, I could have practically run up the next few miles of switchbacks—but that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. We were halfway through a twelve-mile hike in Haleakala crater with nobody else in sight.

“Go ahead, if you want to find your own ride home,” my brother said with sass. He was lying on an isolated little patch of grass admiring the nene goose that sat beside his backpack of snacks. Our stepsister, Remy, wanted to take us on a detour through a lava tube before finishing our hike. I wasn’t enticed by the thought of going into a pitch black, underground cave without a flashlight of my own, but I had no other choice.

I followed our group of six along an indistinct path until we reached an abrupt pit in the ground. Remy led the way down into the darkness. When I reached the base of the lava tube, my knees trembled from exhaustion and nervousness. The icy temperature brought numbness to my fingers and toes. I was on edge while we walked through the immense tunnel, my eyes laser focused in front of my feet as I carefully took one step after another. I stayed behind Remy’s flashlight as closely as I could, but it was darker than the middle of the night on a new moon.

“I wonder if anyone has lived down here,” someone joked. But the thought only spooked me out. The lava that once flowed through the cave left behind oddly-shaped walls and buildups that looked like pillars in an abandoned church. I had an ominous sense that something could be lurking just five feet away and I wouldn’t be able to see it.

It wasn’t until we reached the midpoint of the cave that I could finally relax. We sat down on the flattest rocks we could find and stopped talking. 60

The damp air settled on my skin as the still silence filled my ears. It was hard to believe the lava rock had been sitting there for centuries, just miles away from the lush Hawaiian jungle and vast ocean I was familiar with. I admired every detail in the cave like an explorer on another planet. Just as I started to appreciate the wondrous environment… the lights went out.

Panic rushed through my head. My eyes were wide open, but I had never seen such darkness. I realized the flashlights were turned off on purpose, but that didn’t calm me one bit. What if they didn’t turn back on?

The group wanted to sit in the dark and meditate, so I tried my best. I lost track of time just trying to clear thoughts from my head. Eventually, I diverted my attention to my breath— but not for long. The cold air made my nose runny, and I couldn’t help but sniffle.

“Be quiet!” someone whispered, followed by some giggles. I was glad to know everyone was still sitting around me. A few minutes later, the lights turned back on and we found our way out of the tunnel. The anxious thoughts that previously flooded my mind were released after sitting still those few moments. This environment of absolute darkness and silence brought my full attention to the present: no more worrying about what awaited me at home, what my legs would feel like the next day, or who would win the NBA game that night. My mind and body felt rejuvenated, and I began the final stretch of switchbacks with a smile.