Oceania: Day 7: 7-9-94: Waipio Valley

This morning, I "slept in," waiting until almost 8:00 to arise. Today's big trip was an expedition to the Waipio Valley, where we would hike through a rainforest, wade through a river, and immerse ourselves in the cascading shower of a 1,300-foot waterfall (the island's tallest). The falls were so remote and the journey so arduous, that of the 50 million tourists who visit Hawaii each year, Scott (our new guide) estimated that maybe only 1,000 or so make the trek.

----------------------------------Waipio Valley----------------------------------

An enjoyable aspect of this trip for me was that it combined my friends from the volcano trip (the Shaw family) with my friends from the Mauna Kea trip (Wayne and Murray). As mentioned above, today's leader was Scott, not the regular guide, Tony -- I was told that only Scott is permitted to take tourists to the valley, both because he personally trailblazed the route, and he has 20 years of experience as a paramedic if anything, perchance, should go wrong. (Had anything gone wrong in the past? Or were they just being precautious?)

The 6-mile hike commenced with an ankle-straining, calf-pulling walk down the most steeply graded road I've ever had the "pleasure" to suffer through. While this stretch of the journey covered less than half a mile, it seemed a lot longer: I would venture to label it the most painful, strenuous mini-hike I've yet experienced (with the possible exception of the climb back up at the end of the day).

Thankfully, we plateaued before my tootsies became irrevocably inflamed. Then it was jungle time! We entered a lush, Hawaiian rainforest replete with ferns, tropical fruits (I ate a wild guava), bamboo thickets -- and lots of mud & mosquitoes. I tried my best to avoid these last two, but with limited success (I stepped in several swampy mud patches [some as much as a foot deep], and I doubt a single mosquito went hungry during my visit!). Now I know what you're about to say -- "it could've been worse . . . it could've been raining" -- but hold your tongue, because it eventually did that too. (After all, they don't call it a rainforest for nothing!) The precipitation started out as a light drizzle and then intensified. Since I wanted to have dry clothes for later but lacked a spare shirt, I doffed the one I was wearing, and I put it in a plastic bag in my backpack -- clearly seeing the wisdom in my actions, Wayne and Murray soon followed suit. (Unfortunately, the mosquitoes also took notice: having previously dined upon my hands, neck and face, they clearly saw my bare torso as the dessert cart -- I was quickly covered in pink welts!) Honestly, the rainfall was nothing compare to the drenchings I received each time I waded in the river (at times, up to my chest!), and looking back, I guess it kind of added to the overall "tropical rainforest atmosphere" -- but it was uncomfortable/annoying, and made me feel rather miserable at the time.

The Intrepid Shaw Family (Bookended By Wayne And Murray)

--------------------------Next Time We'll Pack A Raft!--------------------


Well, after several miles of bites, bruises and blisters, we finally made it (2 1/2 hours later) to the base of the waterfall. All my aches and discomfort evanesced as soon as the towering falls came into view. Tons of rushing water (continually refreshed by Hilo's perennial rainfall) plunged down the monstrous cliff, forming a turbulent, fresh-water pool at the bottom. Wow! This was the fifth time in as many days that I was awed by the power and majesty of nature. I felt an overwhelming desire to get closer to it (to merge with it, if you will). Scott said that we could indeed jump into the pool and swim under the waterfall, if we so desired. I didn't think twice!



--------------------------------The Falls (From Afar)---------------------------


I dove in and swam over to the rocky ledge beneath the deluge. It was a tough swim, especially in my heavy hiking boots (which in my haste, I had failed to remove), and I swallowed more than my share of water -- but in truth, I hardly noticed this. My attention was focused on the plummeting sheet of water before me. I climbed along the ledge until I was in line with the center of the waterfall, and then I swam right into it. Boy, was it powerful! Endless gallons of water drummed down on my head. I couldn't see a thing, and all I could hear were rushing, splashing sounds. Naturally, I also couldn't breathe (lacking either a regulator or gills), so I soon swam back to shore. (It was only during my return swim that I wondered about the potential danger of a log or rock coming down with all that water -- hmmm!).

Soon it was time to head back. The return trip through the rainforest was pretty much the same as the forward one, with the notable (and welcome) exception of nonstop sunshine. As we ventured out of the jungle, I grabbed a wild Hawaiian nut (it takes one to know one) as a fitting tribute to the thrill-seeking craziness that prompted me to join the hike.

We may have been out of the forest at this point, but we were not "out of the woods." We still had to rechallenge the leg-busting, lung-bursting vertical road from Hell, and this time, it was an ascent, with all the added demands of fighting against gravity). I dared not complain, however. Scott told me how a 66-year-old man had done the hike (3 months off of a triple bypass operation, no less). Additionally, neither 12-year-old Emily nor her teenage brother Tom (who had scraped off most of his abdominal skin diving into a rock) had said "boo" the entire day. So I sucked it up and tackled the hill.

On the way back to the lodge, Wayne, Murray and I picked up some pretzels and beer (they were horrified when I suggested that a six-pack should be enough for us -- it seems my hedonistic Aussie friends regularly consume a dozen beers in a single sitting and have been known to imbibe as many as 20 [EACH!] . . . not surprisingly, six beers and the entire bag of pretzels didn't even survive the trip home!). The time passed quickly and lightheartedly on the drive back to the lodge as Scott shared some black humor from his paramedic days. Two of these stories will forever stand out in my mind. One was about a man who had his head virtually crushed by a frenzied circus elephant (It's best not to piss off Dumbo!). The second tale (and Scott SWEARS this is true) concerned a gentleman who had to have a pickle jar surgically removed from his rectum (!). Well, the Aussies and I laughed ourselves purple as we invented scenarios leading up to the guy's predicament (Murray had a hilariously simple suggestion: perhaps the lid was just on a bit too tight and the poor man [lacking any of those rubber gripping thingies] improvised the best that he could). According to Scott, the reason the patient provided for the cause of the accident, was that he "slipped in the shower" -- the ridiculous nature of this explanation had us in stitches all over again. (Seriously though, that story may have permanently turned me off to Garlic Dills!)

Upon arriving back at the lodge, I decided to spend the time leading up to our communal chicken dinner (prepared by none other than Tony himself) catching up in this journal. I didn't get far, however, before I got roped into a conversation with three new friends -- Damaris and Christine from Switzerland and Marc from Germany. I passed most of the time with Damaris, who tried valiantly to teach me some Swiss German ("Wo isch's poulet?" [Where is the chicken?] became the catchphrase of the evening). Damaris told me that she and Christine (just like Wayne & Murray and countless other Europeans and Aussies) were traveling around the world for a year. When she told me that they would be stopping in New York in October, I instantly opened "my" house to them (with Wayne and Murray possibly coming in the Spring, along with a few other potential lodgers scattered throughout the year, I'm going to have to start taking reservations -- I hope Dear Ol' Dad is understanding!)

Eventually, the dinner came (salad, rice, baked chicken and ice cream sundaes for dessert) and it was simply scrumptuous! I wholeheartedly commended Tony on his fine cooking.

After dinner, I amused myself attempting to learn a Swiss card game that Damaris, Christine and two fellow Swiss natives were playing. (As if deciphering the language and figuring out the rules weren't enough of a barrier, I had to memorize the new faces and suits on a foreign deck of cards!) Eventually, I gave up and played poker with Wayne, Murray, Marc and a new guy named Marcus. When I lost my last domino (each one was worth a million dollars, so naturally it stung a little), I went to bed. Thus ended my last night on the Big Island.