Waipi'o Valley, Unexplained Energy and Age

Three things I have to smile about today: 1) Breathing what some say is the cleanest air in the world 2) Filling up my water bottles from a rooftop rainwater cachement  3) Cutting off a frond from a nearby aloe bush and putting the sap on various lava scrapes.

Above, Jen, from Calgary, Andrea from Madrid and Chef Kenny start the 5 mile roundtrip hike to Shipman Beach, some thirty miles from Kalani.

One thing I have learned in my almost six weeks here is taking the mantra e hoi mai seriously. Let it come, let it flow. I find that if you are in a situation that allows it and someone invites you to go on a road trip or other activity, you should jump on it. That exact combination of people coupled with their/your free time and their/your your desire to roll might never come again. Five minutes earlier, five minutes later and you would have missed the invitation and it might be days until you see the same people again. Hell, some people just disappear into thin air and you never see them again. So when it spontaneously came up at breakfast this morning to take a road trip to Shipman beach, I took them up.

The five mile round-trip jungle trail,crossing mud, fresh water creeks, muck and mossy lava rocks follows this coastal 1990 flow

Foolhardy swimming indeed

The trail passes some of these ancient Banyan trees, the parasitic tree that is the home to the Hindu god Krishna.

Until it reaches the old Ha'ena Beach, a secluded gem named after one William Herbert Shipman. The haole (whitey) shipping magnate bought some 70,000 acres on the Big Island in 1881 and promptly closed access to the property and beach. As such, access to the beach and the many ancient holy sites on the estate's property has been fought over/litigated right up to the Supreme Court since then. Presently all residents of the Kingdom of Hawaii may use the old government road to access the beach. The beach is also fed by a cold river and various fresh water springs. Danger seems to always be lurking on Big Island beaches...I was warned that if you step into these springs, which are hidden by surf and breaking waves, you can sink up until your chest. I imagine that if you had hiked alone to this beach and this happened to you,  it would be an  excruciatingly long and lonely wait for high tide to come and drown you. Large sea turtles swim up to you, curious what a haole is doing in their lagoon. I am told that they are harmless, but they look enough like dinosaurs to make me want to head back to my towel on the beach.

Below is the money shot of the Waipi'o valley on the Hamakua coast, about two hours north of Pahoa. This cliff is the start of the incredibly steep, 25% grade, one hour hike to the valley and beach below.The return hike is like climbing a ladder for an hour...man did I have the wrong shoes.

There is something tantalizing about the end of the road. Highway 240 dead-ends on this cliff overlooking Waipi'o Valley, the largest of seven spectacular amphitheater valleys on the windward side of the Kohala Mountains. Waipi'o is an emerald patchwork of forest, lotus, pakalolo and taro patches. Fed by waterfalls plunging earthward from 2000 feet, the resulting river cleaves the valley floor. Known as the Valley of Kings, the valley was the ancient breadbasket and political and religious center of the Big Island. Kamehameha the Great received the statue of the fearsome war god Kukailimoku here.

Every so often, there are organized ohana trips. These are a great way to meet other volunteers who do not work in your department or for some reason scheduling has prohibited a meet and greet. Here Nadie, from France and Andrea from Switzerland, look back as we enter the valley.

The valley river that empties onto the beach

Streams above knee level on the Big Island can be life threatening. This crossing was a lot harder than it looks.

Bluff to bluff, the walk along the beach was also more strenuous and longer than it appears

That is Bernard, from Belgium, who works in the new construction department. Anna from Germany and Hurt from Switzerland, are on teaching sabbaticals for two months and work in maintenance.

Angela, a yoga instructor, used to own a restaurant on Dupont Circle in Washington DC. She is a trainer/shift leader in the kitchen with me, and like many of us here, is regrouping for an extended period, while she figures out what she wants to do when she grows up.

Sarah, from Vancouver, master tea maker on Friday nights in the lounge here, works in housekeeping. Here she demonstrates how to defoliate with a proper warm black sand beach pumice rub. 

I went a wanderin' and a ponderin' up valley after lunch and I stumbled upon this..... uh, garden. Kinda thought it best to keep on wanderin' and a ponderin' out of there

Plans were made to come back here and have an ohana campout

Shrines and haiau, both ancient and new age, are found all over the valley.

Speaking of altars and shrines, here is one back at Kalani in the largest yoga room and event center, the E-Max. As I said, there is a lot of talk about energy here. The other night at an improv story telling event, a volunteer talked about sand; specifically that volcanic sand is magnetic. Who is to say about magnetic happiness rays coming out of the sand, but as I walk around in the darkness at night, there is satisfied laughter coming from every nook and cranny in this adult camp community. In any event, good things happen here in the most random and unexplained ways. For example, time speeds up and slows down in weird/unexplained ways and many characters that I have met in my life, some from 30 or 40 years ago, have a double here.

Another thing that is suspended here is age....with a few caveats. Age transcends your relationship with that person that is right there right now. Your past experiences, country of origin, age don't matter. Living in the present e ho mai. As you never jump in the same river twice, the next conversation with that person could be totally different. Right here, right now.You and me talking into the evening on Hawaii's Big Island's Puna Coast.

However age does matter. I had a great conversation with Lisa, the 43 year old therapist from Las Vegas you have met in previous posts, at a good bye bonfire at the Point the other night. We were discussing how all of us have come from everywhere, and find ourselves living and working in this jungle community together.You basically have to make friends fast, not going through the usual acquaintance period. Every cough, every tent zipper opening, every conversation can be heard. At dinner, which is more relaxed than breakfast and lunch, as everyone is not rushing off to work and classes, the older long term volunteers (measured in years), as well as the older gay men tend to sit together. Some nights, whole tables will be filled with nothing but the twenty and thirty year olds. Some nights, it is a total random mix of everyone. I try to sit with someone different every night, including the guests

Anyway, we were sitting on a palm log drinking the celebratory sangria at the Point, bonfire a blazing, Milky Way a illumining, waves a crashing and she pointed out to me what is known as a "cuddle puddle". It was a mixed group of young people, well, huddling, cuddling and I guess puddling. She said she could easily go over and be welcomed right in. She thought "but which twenty something dude was going to be thrilled that they got to cuddle with me, instead of the hottie three people down"?

Thanks for stopping by.