I awoke at 6:30am to the sound of sprinklers going off in the yard behind the Rustic Cottage at Bamboo Gate. Why in the tropics where it rains several times a day would someone set a timer to run sprinklers is beyond me, but just the same I awoke to them. It wasn’t like I hadn’t had a full night’s sleep after passing out around 9:30PM. The day before was large what with SCUBA and Drum Circles.

Rolling up my sleeves I began preparing a picnic lunch for the day ahead. Soon others were up making coffee, eating breakfast, packing coolers and twisting phatties. We were on the road to Hana by 8AM. All the Maui guide books touted this as the highlight of island activities and we wanted to get a jump on the some 1,500-2,000 tourists that drive the 37 long and winding miles each day.

Driving with Steve as my co-pilot, who read out loud from the guide book looking for possible stops, and Shawn and Tree shooting both video and digital pictures in the back, we made our way along the lush rainforest roadway yielding for one lane bridges and slowing down on curves to catch glimpses of waterfalls, bamboo forests, and ocean views.

Our first stop at mile marker 7 was to see the Psychedelic Eucalyptus Trees. The trees were beautifully painted by nature. Greens, yellows, oranges and reds painted in places where the bark had peeled down fascinated us. We have a lot of Eucalyptus in the Bay Area but I had never seen trees like this before. So far our journey was pretty cool.

Jumping back in to the car we continued towards Hana stopping next at a 25-foot waterfall that cascaded into a cool pool you could swim in. None of us were that hot but we waded in for a photo opportunity before returning to our journey.

We had all read in our guide books that the “Halfway to Hana” road stand had the best banana bread so we stopped to buy a few loafs and a jar of home made Passion Fruit Jelly to take home with us. Steve was offered some Maui Wowie by some “punk in a sideways baseball hat stumbling around”, but what with being prepped by harvest in Northern California we were all good. Obviously we weren’t the only ones who thought the Hana Highway was one giant bone cruise.

They say the journey is sometimes better then the destination and it was hard to believe the views could get much better, but they did. A few miles a head we pulled out and walked down a 4-wheel drive access only road, wading through small pools of muddy water to accomplish the goal of seeing an outstanding view of a surfer’s beach.

Back on the road again the mile markers ticked off 10, 15, 20, 25 miles of jungleicious eye candy. During our travels we had seen a few roads heading left and right off the “highway” but something about a stop sign on the left triggered the memory of reading about a small town between Pa’ia, where we were staying, and Hana, called Nahiku. I guess calling it a “town” would be generous. At most it’s a rural road lined with breath taking flora. The guidebook said it was “where flowers came to die” and we could see why. Lush growth and decay scented the humid air. Brilliant reds were off set by greens and yellows. Huge flowers. Elephant ear size leaves. All along the road were houses that had honor fruit and flower stands out front where you could buy huge bouquets of ginger, psittacorum, anthurium, heliconia, and birds of paradise for five dollars. Bouquets like these would run one fifty to two hundred dollars back in San Francisco. Avocados, Passion Fruit, Pineapples, and Bananas all ranging from twenty-five cents to seven dollars lined the stands to be taken without watchful eye. Money was pushed into little locked boxes which we gladly paid. Every minute or so someone would shout out, “Yeah Road Least Traveled!”

When we reached the end of the 2.5 mile road to Nahiku we couldn’t believe how lucky we were to have made the left hand turn. The view was simply spectacular. The road dead-ended at a small grassy park overlooking a rugged shoreline. Azure waters with contrasting black lave crags jutted up randomly from the sea. Crashing against the crags white wave spray looked like professionally timed fireworks display. SPLASH! CRASH! BOOM! Ssshhhhhhh! The breakers slammed into the rocks in front of us from left to right sending up cascading wave crashes one after another against the jet black lava finger, then spilling into a confused sea at the cliff’s end. Someone mentioned this was their new “Happy Place” and we devoured Roast Chicken and Herbed Cheese Sandwiches and ate cured olives, speechless save for a few mutters of “Wow” and “Look at that big wave coming in”. Before we knew it we had spent an hour there.

Our next stop was Waianapanapa State Park, home of the black sand beach. First we walked a short loop that led us to a fresh water cave where we saw a few people with wetsuits and flashlights getting ready to spelunk. After our caving experience in Belize earlier this year I would have loved to jump in and give it a shot. There’s always next year!

Soon we pressed on to the black sand beach itself. The ebony sand was soft and shiny. The retreating waves left stark white streaks of bubble and foam. It was a striking contrast to the aqua waters. I could have stood there forever watching my bare feet get more and more buried with every wave.

We had one last stop before the day was done just past the town of Hana, which we must have missed while blinking the black sand from our eyes. The instructions in our guidebook were fairly vague. Turn left. Turn right. Drive to the dead end. Look for the vacant lot where the city placed no trespassing signs, ignore them and follow the trail that leads to the left at the end.

Once we found the lot and subsequently the trailhead we walked along with the ocean to our right and an ever increasingly step wall of red lava to our left. The trail thinned to a footpath and started climbing. Each step we took we lost a bit of ground by sliding on more and more gravel. At one point we climbed over a large rock and turned the corner to reveal a step down hill loaded with gravel and the best beach of the day. The red sand beach was stunning. A huge 100-foot wall of red lava encased the small ocean cove like a concave natural amphitheater. At first we thought the waters were calm as we made our way down the hill to the beach. The only part of the ocean we could see was a small pool of bright blue. I even planned on taking my first swim of the day. But our view was extremely limited and soon appeared an ocean of unrestrained nature. Churning water and sand beat the beach. A torrent tempest raged against a huge red lava reef, which lay out in the cove about 20 feet off shore. The lava reef also protected the small pool we had thought of swimming in but on second glance looked like a mistake seeing how hard the undertow could be. Nature: beautiful and deadly.

The drive to the Red Sand Beach took roughly seven hours. The ride home in tired, happy, silence took one and a half. Once again it was about the journey and not the destination. The description. Not the narrative.

Pulling into the driveway back in Pa’ia Michael Scott and Greg Yost greeted us with beers and warm smiles. Soon Alison & Dave Randle joined us on the lawn outside the Rustic Cabin and the 8 of us spoke of their recent shows in Oahu and the upcoming Butter shows later in the week.

The party at Bamboo Gate was just beginning to warm up and I hoped with the continuous sight seeing and scuba we’d be awake enough to enjoy it.