We slept until around 7:30 this morning, then ate honey buns and orange juice before driving to the summit of Mount Haleakala. I had downloaded an app that acted as a tour guide as we drove. The mountain had layers of cloud cover as we ascended and many, many hairpin turns to navigate. Occasionally, the fog would clear just enough to get a glimpse of the view. I was most interested in the way vegetation changed with elevation, from massive trees, to grasses, to shrubs, and finally, barren soil. It was strange to think that at 10,000 ft. up, we literally were inside a cloud. The wind whipped the mist around us, and the ice cold vapor stung our faces until they were red.
The way down the mountain was more treacherous than the ride up because the fog thickened nearly to white out conditions, in addition to the free range cattle threatening to cross in front of us. I tried to help Jeff anticipate the curves by monitoring Google maps, and joked that he was earning his instrument rating in driving.
We finally made it back down the mountain and to our hotel room, where we made ourselves sandwiches and ate out in the common area. I took a few pictures of flowers in the courtyard, and even caught a couple of glimpses of a gecko. Jeff and I took a short nap and then decided to explore the west coast of Maui. Again I was struck by the proximity of multimillion dollar homes and condos to beaches populated by people living out of their cars. There are a string of towns along the southwest that seem designed to service the whims of the wealthy We didn’t stop in any of them except for a brief stretching of our legs at DT Fleming Beach, where we saw some surfers catching waves.
And then abruptly, the resorts ended, and there was wilderness. These were the places where locals had pulled off to their own secret surf spots and swimming holes away from the tourists. The road became narrow and curvy but the views also became more spectacular. On one side of us was the ocean beating against the cliffs, and on the other side, inaccessible forests. We followed our digital tour guide to a place called Blow Horn, a spot in the cliffs where the tide forces water up like a geyser. Then we did the advisable thing and turned back around the way we came instead of getting lost on tiny mountain roads.
Back in Paia, we decided to eat at a place across the street called Charley’s Restaurant and Saloon. Apparently, Willie Nelson has been a great supporter of this place, because it had a display of his platinum records and a massive replica of his guitar, Trigger. Jeff had a small pizza and I had a chicken sandwich, both of which were, not surprisingly, overpriced. I got the impression that this place was for rich hippies who wanted to pretend they were at a dive bar.
After supper, we walked to a convenience store to pick up some Cokes for our drive to Hana tomorrow. We are a little sad to be coming up on the end of our vacation, but also a little apprehensive about the apparent panic we’ll see on the mainland when we return.