Hawaii Vacation – Day 3 (Big Island)

Halema'uma'u Crater in the Kilauea Caldera at Volcanoes National Park on the Big Island of Hawaii

Disclaimer: Back in May of 2006, when I started posting about our vacation to the Hawaiian Islands, we were severely limited regarding photos I could share due to bandwidth limitations. Here in 2022, I’m updating these posts using the original image and text I shared, but I’m adding the rest of the photos I would have liked to share if bandwidth and storage had not been issues 16 years ago. 

This is the Halema’uma’u Crater inside the Kilauea Caldera at Volcanoes National Park on the Big Island of Hawaii. Like most all things we visit, there seems to be a permanence of place that will survive well past the puny lifespan of our brief lives, but not here in the case of this crater.

Halema'uma'u Crater in the Kilauea Caldera at Volcanoes National Park on the Big Island of Hawaii

The caldera floor we were looking at from an overlook had been dormant for 24 years, but two years after our visit, it was damaged by a small eruption. From that point forward, the floor of Halema’uma’u was an active lava lake with sporadic activity until the entire system started to collapse on May 1st, 2018. In the first six days of that episode the floor of the caldera sunk by 722 feet (220 meters). Only three months later, the crater was roughly 2,000 feet deep (600 meters), and the overlook was gone from the map.

Volcanoes National Park on the Big Island of Hawaii

We are accustomed to living things coming and going as the nature of life is all about constant change, but the rock we are living upon doesn’t seem to change within the scope of our lifetimes. Well, that’s not true at all, as evidenced by the rim of a volcanic crater where we once stood with the confidence that it would always look like that, only to be proven wrong. One might think that the planet, too, is a living thing.

Volcanoes National Park on the Big Island of Hawaii

A sprout emerges, and soon, a stalk thrusts upward toward the sun, and the arms of the fern unfold to capture the energy that will propel its life forward, allowing another cycle of life to bear fruit and spawn even more life. It all seems so symbiotic when I look at the plant in relation to the earth, and yet somehow, we humans can’t recognize that we should be in the same well-balanced position as the lowly plant.

Lava Tube at Volcanoes National Park on the Big Island of Hawaii

The day before, we had taken the hike along the coast to see where the lava was entering the ocean; today, we focused on the caldera and visited a lava tube.

Caroline Wise in the Lava Tube at Volcanoes National Park on the Big Island of Hawaii

We are in Nāhuku (Thurston Lava Tube), where the phenomenon of turning semi-transparent while simultaneously witnessing the quantum entangled version of a person is a real thing. Maybe lava tubes are the planet’s microtubules, and we are undergoing a polymerization process in them, allowing us to grow our potential.

Caroline Wise and John Wise at Volcanoes National Park on the Big Island of Hawaii

While the lava tubes did nothing for my obesity, I do think our potential for love and adventure was increased.

Ka Mauloa Church in Kurtistown, Hawaii on Highway 11

While yesterday saw us exploring the leeward side of the Big Island, today, we are taking time to better experience the windward side. Here we are at Ka Mauloa Church in Kurtistown, Hawaii, on Highway 11, where the Ho‘omana Na‘auao o Hawai‘i Organization continues the tradition of performing services in their native Hawaiian language, technically known as ʻŌlelo Hawaiʻi.

Hilo Bay on the Big Island of Hawaii

Leaving the Volcano Road, we reach Hilo Bay and merge onto the Mamalahoa Highway that will take us north.

Big Island of Hawaii

For the next 10 miles, there is no plan other than seeing what the landscape looks like.

Big Island of Hawaii

Once in a while, the sight of the extraordinary commands that we stop and try to capture the essence of this beautiful place.

Big Island of Hawaii

There is no comparing any of this to the California, Oregon, or Washington coasts and obviously, it’s a million miles away in appearance and climate from the North Atlantic coast.

Ishigo's on the Old Mamalahoa Highway in Honomu, Hawaii

What’s not to love about the architecture found in Hawaii? Not the ugly Honolulu stuff we briefly saw on Oahu but this old-fashioned style that has a real character, such as Ishigo’s in Honomu.

Akaka Falls State Park in Honomu, Hawaii

We have entered the lands of the Akaka Falls State Park. Let me reiterate that for you, we are visiting AKAKA…Falls State Park.

Akaka Falls State Park in Honomu, Hawaii

I can only wonder about those who visit these islands for the beaches or volcanoes exclusively and fail to see these little details.

Akaka Falls State Park in Honomu, Hawaii

This Torch Ginger turns out to be edible, not that learning this while not in Hawaii is very useful.

Akaka Falls State Park in Honomu, Hawaii

One doesn’t really understand that moss and ferns grow on bamboo until seen with your own eyes.

Akaka Falls State Park in Honomu, Hawaii

This might be the most beautiful thing I’ll see today.

Akaka Falls State Park in Honomu, Hawaii

Even the Akaka Falls doesn’t compare to that fern in the previous photo, though this water falling into a bottomless pit is a spectacle one doesn’t see every day.

Akaka Falls State Park in Honomu, Hawaii

This is Apeepee Falls, the little cousin to Akaka. (I’ll bet $2 Caroline has groaned at least twice by now.) [Yep…]

Caroline Wise with fresh coconut near Akaka Falls State Park in Honomu, Hawaii

If you are wondering if I could vulgarize Caroline’s drinking from this oversized nut of the Coco variety, you know I could, but I’m trying to hold back out of respect for her enjoying her very first sip of the freshest coconut water she’s ever had.

Looking at the Pacific Ocean from Honomu, Hawaii

And with that, we ran out of things to do and hit the gas launching our car with us in it into the big blue ocean.

Honomu, Hawaii

Would you believe that we were saved by a gaggle of mermaids who brought us to this Buddhist Temple of Honomu Hongwanji? Yeah, neither would I, although I’d like the idea of it being possible.

Caroline Wise in Honomu, Hawaii

It is difficult to see here, but Caroline is holding a handful of plumeria, a flower she absolutely loves. It turns out that a German physician/botanist by the name of Dr. William Hillebrand first introduced the plumeria to the islands back in 1860.

Somewhere off Highway 19 on the Big Island of Hawaii

Subsequently, in 1822, Dr. Zygmunt Kramsztyk, of Polish descent, introduced the Pacific Ocean to Hawaii. Before this gets out of hand, I just made up this part, but the plumeria story is true.

Somewhere off Highway 19 on the Big Island of Hawaii

And with that, we ran out of things to do and hit the gas launching our car with us in it into the big blue ocean.

Kalopa Native Forest Trail near Honokaa, Hawaii

Would you believe that we were saved by a fever of forest nymphs who brought us to the Kalopa Native Forest State Park?

Kalopa Native Forest Trail near Honokaa, Hawaii

Only through the lens of hindsight do we really see the traits we were maybe not aware of when we were trudging through our adventures, and in this instance, looking back from 2022, I see that we were big on short trails. I know that, in part, this was due to trying to capture as many experiences as possible, but here in this last third of our life, we now aim for more immersive, longer jaunts into the nature we find ourselves able to access. Maybe in some way, it’s like my overeating, afraid that I’ll never have something so yummy ever again, I want all that I can gobble down regardless of how much I might overeat. Not sure we’d ever see Hawaii again; see everything as fast as we can.

Kalopa Native Forest Trail near Honokaa, Hawaii

I think I might have been wrong about that previous fiddlehead image, and this could actually be the most beautiful thing I’ll see today.

Kalopa Native Forest Trail near Honokaa, Hawaii

Over on the mainland, when fall rolls around, leaves turn orange, red, and yellow, you know, fall colors, while here in Hawaii, during the spring, apparently leaves turn pink and magenta.

Kalopa Native Forest Trail near Honokaa, Hawaii

It was at this point Caroline admonished me that if I continued this exercise of taking thousands of photos, I’d never be able to choose just one to best represent the day on my blog. Little did she know that in the future, I’d be able to update this post to include 40 to 50 images here in 2022. I’m anticipating that if I should live to be 80 years old, in 2043, I’ll be once again updating this post to possibly well over 100 images, and we’ll know who got the last laugh then.

Pacific Ocean view near Honokaa, Hawaii

And with that, we ran out of things to do and hurled ourselves over the landscape into the big blue ocean.

Honokaa, Hawaii

Would you believe that we were saved by a pod of three-legged whales that brought us to the Honokaa People’s Theatre, where we are still telling this tall tale to this day?

Waipiʻo Valley Lookout on the Big Island of Hawaii

Waipiʻo Valley Lookout is the edge of today’s universe for the two of us. While a road takes travelers further north, we’ll have to save that for a visit in the future. We have to return to Hilo.

Caroline Wise on the Big Island of Hawaii

This is the three-legged mermaid forest nymph that saved me today and every other day.

Merrie Monarch Festival in Hilo, Hawaii

Our date in Hilo had us returning for the evening festivities here at the Merrie Monarch Festival.

Merrie Monarch Festival in Hilo, Hawaii

Hula is not just grass skirts as a matter of fact, as far as I can tell, the clothing doesn’t really matter as the art form is all about the hand gestures representing words, chants telling of important histories, and the music that accompanies the storytelling in order to create a narrative.

Merrie Monarch Festival in Hilo, Hawaii

Knowing this bit of background, I want subtitles for these performances so I might learn something about the history of the Hawaiian people through their songs.

Merrie Monarch Festival in Hilo, Hawaii

Early encounters with white Christian zealots tried to dissuade the Hawaiians from practicing Hula as they saw its roots in paganism, and so they thought it evil and against god. Two hundred years later, the religious fanaticism of the Christian right has hardly advanced, but while they concern themselves with abortion and trying to find new ways to suppress various ethnicities, Hawaiian culture fights to maintain itself through gentrification and the loss of their lands.

Merrie Monarch Festival in Hilo, Hawaii

I wish I didn’t bring up these cultural imperialistic tragedies, but being in Hawaii screams at me what is probably lost forever and what is yet to disappear. In my view, none of what identifies a Hawaiian should ever be lost, especially to the superficial nonsense that is capitalism and its flamethrower of total destruction.

Merrie Monarch Festival in Hilo, Hawaii

I have no idea what the words are that are being said here with these women’s hands, but I’m going to go with the idea that they are welcoming their traditions, gods, and ancestors.

Grand View Overlook – Grand Canyon

I have to say it’s a sad day at the Grand Canyon when we cannot wake with the rising sun as though we are simply blasé about such things. Those moments when the sun first enters the canyon and similarly when the sun sets are where some of the most incredible views are found, and somehow we just slept in. Maybe I should blame it on the luxury price paid for a night in El Tovar.

Another luxury here at El Tovar is the Belgian hot chocolate.

Here we are once again at the Grand Canyon, simultaneously standing atop the bottom of an ancient ocean while looking into a canyon showing us over 700 million years of Earth’s history. This is Kaibab Limestone formed during the Permian, meaning that it was created in part by three extinction events, one of which was the mass extinction that paved the way for the Triassic period. Under our feet is not simply rock; there are fossils, many of them, and when you stop and consider things, limestone is largely the remains of corals and shells.

Animals have been a constant factor in the lands that would become the Grand Canyon, while it appears that the first humans entered the already-carved canyon approximately 12,000 years ago. The first European to see this place was García López de Cárdenas, who is even so fortunate to have a layer of the canyon named after him; his visit was in September 1540.

While Leonardo da Vinci was busy figuring out sedimentary rocks and how fossils are deposited before Cárdenas first observed the canyon, his thoughts would go unpublished for another century. Then, in the late 18th century, James Hutton, a farmer from Scotland effectively founded the science of modern geology that was subsequently codified by Scottish lawyer Charles Lyell in the 19th century. Fast forward to the 21st century, and 4 in 10 Americans believe this canyon was created by the invisible hand of God just 6,000 years ago, and I’d wager that a plurality of the other 6 in 10 Americans know they are walking on rocks, but have no idea of the history they represent or how they were formed.

Ignorance is not bliss, it’s a curse that hampers our ability to find awareness of place when we might be present to gather a richer experience. Imagine that the person you are with remained largely a mystery. I don’t mean the obvious stuff like they have limbs, skin, or a mind that allows them to talk with you, but for the first few years of your relationship, you simply looked and smiled at the person across from you because isn’t that what we do in the face of what is offered by nature?

This chasm may not be as large as the tragicomedy unfolding among us humans here in what is supposedly modernity. The more we know, the less we know.

We gain a clearer view of our place in the history of a planet and the evolution of nature, and instead of celebrating that achievement of knowledge, we cower in superstition and hide in ignorance.

It is as though the most epic storm of stupidity was moving over the landscape of progress with the intention of washing away the hope of intelligent life holding fast to our hurtling rock while the idiocy of the body politic sits by, cheering its imminent demise.

Then, on the other hand, the rains arrive in the distance, and the carving of majesty continues the process nature so diligently dedicates eternity to performing. How is it that humans on such a vast scale remain oblivious to their place within all of this?

I stare at these scenes. I return again and again, and still, they remain disturbingly complex as my mind attempts to play back the time machine of tectonic movement, accumulation, erosion, and the slow crawl of life over everything in front of me. I need these frozen moments captured in the photograph as they compartmentalize the infinity my eyes want to consume when I’m standing there in person. The frantic movement of senses disturbs the stillness that would otherwise be present, and so I must bring the Grand Canyon home with me, all of it.

This is the Grand View Overlook, and it, too, is now mine.

Okay, I’ll leave the Little Colorado River Canyon right here.

It was but a weekend, but oh, what a glorious escape into something rare.

South Kaibab Trail – Grand Canyon

Caroline Wise and John Wise on the South Kaibab Trail in the Grand Canyon National Park, Arizona

Here I am in February 2023, expanding this old post that wasn’t even 100 words long and only one photo when it was originally posted. If there was an itinerary that accompanied it, that’s long gone. From my log of travels, I can see we left Friday for points north. I have no idea if we stayed in Flagstaff, Williams, or Tusayan, but I do know we didn’t stay in the park because, at 8:00 a.m., I took a selfie of us in front of the Grand Canyon National Park sign at the south entrance. I’m certain we’d not have driven out there if we’d stayed in the park, so those other details are now lost forever. What’s not lost is that we had breakfast at El Tovar, but there wasn’t a photo worthy of sharing.

South Kaibab Trail in the Grand Canyon National Park, Arizona

While a bit cold, we had beautiful skies for our first hike on the South Kaibab Trail here in the Grand Canyon National Park. Caroline wanted to try a new trail while I was opting for Bright Angel; somehow, her vote won the day.

South Kaibab Trail in the Grand Canyon National Park, Arizona

It being January, we didn’t expect big crowds, but compared to the Bright Angel Trail, which is a thoroughfare regardless of the time of year because of its proximity to Grand Canyon Village and its lodges, there were moments of absolute solitude out on this comparatively little used trail, at least as far as my perspective is concerned. The pile of rocks at the turnaround of the trail marks the Ooh Aah Point Overlook. The first spot from which you have an open view into the canyon.

South Kaibab Trail in the Grand Canyon National Park, Arizona

Along the way, we bumped into a couple who seemed to be looking for any old excuse to share some big news. It turned out the question of marriage had just been proposed the night before. We were able to bond with them as we shared that this weekend, we are recognizing our 12th anniversary from when we were married over in Vegas on the 12th and subsequently spent our honeymoon right here at the Grand Canyon.

South Kaibab Trail in the Grand Canyon National Park, Arizona

Over the years, we’ve visited the Grand Canyon dozens of times, and yet, every time I encounter our photos and give in to thinking about our time here, I long to go back once more.

South Kaibab Trail in the Grand Canyon National Park, Arizona

I know full well that nothing has changed here, but that doesn’t change the attraction. Maybe it’s like most all things we visit again and again: the more often we take the time to put ourselves in a place we’re already familiar with, the more we end up learning. It’s a sobering thought that one could visit the Grand Canyon 1,000 times and still have likely failed in attaining a sense that they know what’s out here.

South Kaibab Trail in the Grand Canyon National Park, Arizona

The guide leading a group of others following her on mules cut a sharp figure with a sense of belonging to this setting, while the ragtag outfit behind her appeared a bit out of their element. Lucky for me, the guide’s passing right at this 180-degree turn in the trail became my best photo.

South Kaibab Trail in the Grand Canyon National Park, Arizona

If it weren’t for the magic of auto-stitching software to assemble panoramas, photographing the Grand Canyon would prove rather difficult.

South Kaibab Trail in the Grand Canyon National Park, Arizona

Our hike only went as far as Cedar Ridge. By the time we reach the rim again, we’ll have finished today’s 3-mile roundtrip.

Scrub Jay in the Grand Canyon National Park, Arizona

Caroline’s sleuthing says this is a scrub jay.

Hopi House on the South Rim of the Grand Canyon National Park, Arizona

Our lodging this evening is just across from the Hopi House at the El Tovar Hotel.

John Hernon – Former Alcatraz Prison Guard

Alcatraz in San Francisco, California

Attention: These posts following our coastal Christmas-thru-New-Year’s trip are named a bit specifically, that’s because when these were originally shared, they only had one photo each due to bandwidth limitations back in the day. Since that time, I’ve updated them to include images that relate to the details of each day.

Today, Caroline and I visited Alcatraz Island for the first time. Great place, well, as long as you are coming and leaving of your own free will. On the ride over to the island, the last man to get on the ferry was an elderly gentleman who wore a National Park Volunteer patch sewn onto his hat. I’ll introduce him to you later.

Alcatraz in San Francisco, California

There’s nothing here that hasn’t been shown a thousand times before. I’ll bet a million people a year take this exact photo.

Alcatraz in San Francisco, California

But then again, from the state of some of the ruins and the proclivity of the area being prone to earthquakes, maybe much of this will fall to the wayside someday.

Alcatraz in San Francisco, California

Why is it always the places forbidden to us that hold the greatest interest for me and where I’d like to wander?

Alcatraz in San Francisco, California

And who placed a key in the lock and closed this iron door for the last time?

Alcatraz in San Francisco, California

It’s a strange idea that, at one time, this little walkway was once part of the path of freedom. People who worked on the island moved within the manicured landscape with walkway lights and housing on the bay with some of the best views.

Alcatraz in San Francisco, California

While prisoners behind bars might hear the ocean and smell the ocean, only rarely would they see the ocean.

Alcatraz in San Francisco, California

In their regimented universe in which these abominations to public safety were warehoused, a club of felons established their own government with rules that survived within the captivity of other men with equally harsh rules. But for all the discipline an incarcerated man can bring to bear while in prison, it’s ironic that they weren’t able to live on the outside with a similar set of guidelines.

Alcatraz in San Francisco, California

What the National Park Service here at Alcatraz can never share with visitors is what it sounded like back during the days when Al Capone called this home.

Alcatraz in San Francisco, California

Five feet wide and nine feet long with a ceiling just seven feet overhead, this is where some of the worst of the worst lived and died.

Caroline Wise, John Hernon, and John Wise at Alcatraz Prison in San Francisco, California

About that volunteer who boarded with us, it turns out this guy was a prison guard while Alcatraz was still operating. Now 84 years old, John Hernon visits the island at least once a month to break out of the routine and tell some of us lucky tourists stories of his time on the Rock. He enjoys having his picture taken, unlike Sean Penn, who we ran into on New Year’s Eve at a small burger joint. He promptly gave me the finger as I raised my camera – no, I didn’t take a picture of him or his finger.

Alcatraz in San Francisco, California

The kitchen looks as though you could put it back to work today.

Alcatraz in San Francisco, California

Back in early 1963, the prison was closed and started to fall into decay. Ten years later, the island prison became part of the Golden Gate National Recreation Area with things starting to be stabilized. Finally, in 1986, the island was opened to visitors.

Alcatraz in San Francisco, California

I’d like to believe that guards had cushy jobs out here, but it can get cold and windy out on San Francisco Bay; I’m pretty sure those guard shacks were not heated back in 1934 when the prison was first opened.

Alcatraz in San Francisco, California

Remnants of an old history are tossed everywhere, in the surf, too.

Alcatraz in San Francisco, California

So much of the island is off-limits to us visitors; I’m certain it’s all the most interesting stuff, too. We could have explored the island and what’s left of the buildings all day, but our time was over too soon.

Street Musician in San Francisco, California

This is Michael Masley, known as The Artist General. He’s on the street playing his Cymbalom, and you bet we bought a CD from him. Amazing watching and listening to this man play his unique instrument.

Caroline Wise at the Original Ghirardelli Ice Cream and Chocolate Shop in San Francisco, California

With plenty of time before dinner, it was a great idea to grab a tiny snack at the Original Ghirardelli Ice Cream and Chocolate Shop. Why split a sundae when you can have two, along with a hot chocolate? Okay, one of those hot fudge sundaes was mine.

Maritime Museum in San Francisco, California

After our ice cream indulgence, it was a short walk to the Maritime Museum for a quick tour.

Hyde St. Pier Historic Ships in San Francisco, California

And not far away, well just across the street really, are the Hyde St. Pier Historic Ships.

Hyde St. Pier Historic Ships in San Francisco, California

This photo was taken on the Eureka, a 19th-century paddle steamboat.

San Francisco, California

We weren’t about to eat a thing here at Fishermans Wharf as we had bigger and better plans.

Millennium Restaurant in San Francisco, California

We had reservations for Millennium Restaurant, a vegan affair created by chef Eric Tucker. If I could employ this amazing chef to cook for Caroline and me in Phoenix, I’d convert to veganism in a second. Our rather pricey dinner here was one of the best meals I’ve ever enjoyed.

Carlsbad Caverns National Park

Leaving Las Cruces, New Mexico at dawn

Disclaimer: This post was updated in November 2022, as the original only included 1 photo; the bigger details were written back then, although a few things needed to be figured out.

Up early Saturday morning for the 188-mile (304km) drive that passes through Texas and back into New Mexico.

Ruin in New Mexico

Welcome to Salt Flat, Texas. This is about all that’s left.

Guadalupe Mountains National Park in New Mexico

Guadalupe Mountains National Park.

Carlsbad Caverns National Park in New Mexico

We reached Carlsbad Caverns quickly enough, and like Jutta’s and my trip here a week ago, a single bat was on the wall to greet us as we entered its domain.

Carlsbad Caverns National Park in New Mexico

We hoped to enter the cave through the Natural Entrance, which can’t be a given and depends on if my mother-in-law feels she has the stamina. Fortunately for us today, this is how we entered the cave.

Carlsbad Caverns National Park in New Mexico

Having just photographed the cave a week prior, I wasn’t sure if I would find any new angles to share, but here goes.

Carlsbad Caverns National Park in New Mexico

While the cave system feels huge, it also feels rather compact as the paved walkway twists and turns so much that you never really know where you are.

Carlsbad Caverns National Park in New Mexico

The trail is 1.25 miles long with an elevation gain or loss of 750 feet, though somehow it doesn’t feel like that at all, probably because your senses are tuned to taking in as much as possible.

Carlsbad Caverns National Park in New Mexico

While this cave is astonishing, there’s much gone and broken as when it was first discovered; people didn’t know anything at all about the fragility, age, or health of an ecosystem that might be still evolving in this now mostly dead cave. Of course, we wouldn’t be able to enjoy it quite the same without the great lighting and pathways, but it sure would have been great to see and hear the cave while water was still actively forming these ribbons, stalagmites, stalactites, and other formations that boggle the mind.

Carlsbad Caverns National Park in New Mexico

Like organic creatures, these formations could have been considered lungs, and if you’d told me that, I might have believed you.

Carlsbad Caverns National Park in New Mexico

After descending about halfway, we detoured from the Big Room so we could make our reservations for the King’s Palace Tour at 3:00 p.m. Finishing the King’s Palace, we re-entered the Big Room to finish the trail we skipped earlier.

Carlsbad Caverns National Park in New Mexico

What photos came from the main cave area or the King’s Palace are lost to time; suffice it to say that they are all from Carlsbad Caverns.

Carlsbad Caverns National Park in New Mexico

Just stop and think about this: all of this rock used to be a solid structure until groundwater dripped through the earth, carving out the limestone.

Carlsbad Caverns National Park in New Mexico

But as where rivers scrape clean the surfaces they run over, these waters leach minerals carrying them along to form what we see here today.

Carlsbad Caverns National Park in New Mexico

Somewhere in our vicinity is the Lechuguilla Cave system, which is still very much alive but it’s off-limits to all but scientists and park personnel.

John Wise, Caroline Wise, and Jutta Engelhardt at the bat flyout at Carlsbad Caverns National Park in New Mexico

With barely enough time to get good seats at the Natural Entrance amphitheater, our explorations ended with us watching the Bat Flight  – more than 350,000 bats making their way out of the cave’s Natural Entrance tornado-style for a night of bug munching.

Bat flyout at Carlsbad Caverns National Park in New Mexico

Afterward, we felt like munching on something as well and headed to Carlsbad for dinner at Chili’s, one of the few eateries still open at 9.30 PM.