Hawaii 6 - Iki Covid

Guess who has covid! It's me today!!! I had a rather rough night, full of fevered dreams where I was managing both a volcanic eruption and evacuation... When I awoke, I felt pretty rough. But I got some ibuprofen and caffeine in me, and was banished to the quarantine wing on the patio to read. After a slow early-morning, the healthy half of our family decided they were heading out to hike Iki crater! I was feeling much better and rather restless after a few hours in the quarantine wing, so I decided to go for it! The worst it could be was miserable, I can deal with misery for the chance at a cool experience.

And it was very cool. The hike down was through the rainforest, switching back and forth past prehistoric plants and steam vents, catching glimpses of miniscule hikers far below us. Then, suddenly, we we emerged from the jungle and we were those tiny hikers. The crater floor, which looked utterly and completely flat from the rim 600 feet above us, is revealed as being lumpy throughout. The entire thing looks like a pie crust made of asphalt, that has been smushed about as it cooked, resulting in wrinkles and creases across the whole thing. I learned a lot about lava features just by looking at the structures, and of course wandering off-trail to look down the various cracks, crevices, and fissures.  

The trail itself is a mile-long crossing, following rock cairns set up across the bottom of the crater. It was yet another alien landscape, surrounded by black rock with ferns struggling for life where they could find the slightest toehold, and cliffs to all sides.  After the first half-mile across the bottom, we got into a new section, where the rocks were more scrambled and jumbled, as opposed to the near-flat solidified pool from the first half. The nice breeze we had also started to disappear with it, but we kept the pace very casual and it was totally fine. However, all nice things have to come to and end, and we now had to exit the crater and climb back to the rim. It.... wasn't that bad. I mean, not fun, but not the worst hike I've done this week, and since we all set a very casual pace the covid didn't really rear it's head either. At the top of the climb, my dad doubled back to the car, and the rest of us (Mom, Dani, myself, and Sage!) set off for Volcano House via the old Rim Road.

Apart from being entirely uphill - not much, but just barely uphill the whole time - it was super cool. We got to walk down the center of the abandoned road as nature encroached from either side. The crater wall got closer and closer, at times eating the shoulder of the road we were walking on. The best spot was the old lookout, where there was a parkinglot, complete with signs, completely overgrown, completely empty except for us, and the lookout had great views of the crater in this post-apocalyptic private tour.

After that we took a quick look into Volcano House (a hotel on the rim from the 1800s), and it was very tastefully done, with a simple interior design highlighting and showcasing the incredible views of the crater. {Maybe put some history here about how Hawaiian kings and queens stayed here}. Plus, they had a penny smasher, and I needed a penny smashed in Hawaii, so we took care of that!

We headed back to the house for a late lunch, which turned into a shower and another round of quarantine reading on the porch. Pretty great for a quarantine. After a few hours of resting and recharging, we decided we'd take one last thrust and try to hit Crater Road, a 15 mile road that heads down from the park to the ocean. Adam was even feeling well enough to join us!

This is an incredible road, and I encourage anyone who comes to the park to hit it. As advertised, it does indeed have craters. New craters, old craters, craters filled with trees, craters with sheer edges... Adam put it best "It looks like the moon with trees".  But it's not only craters, it also has lavafields. New lavafields, old lavafields, massive 1979 lavafields, smooth lavafields, jagged lavafields... and you can just drive down what is essentially a private highway through this alien landscape. Then whenever anything strikes your fancy you can pull off, jump up on a retaining wall, and take in the vast wrong-feeling regolith moonscape, spanning the mountain down to the sea, as far as the eye can see.

Not pictured: Petroglyphs

We took a special stop to go see the petroglyphs. I didn't really care, but my mom wanted to see them, so my parents and I set off across the rocks. This was much like the Iki crater - jumbled lumps of smooth lavarock - only without walls on the side and a bit more plant life. These plants were extra cool, because in the constant storm-force winds their dried out seedpods would rattle. After a third a mile my dad decided he didn't care about petroglyphs. After a half a mile when we finally saw how far we had to go - and that we were only halfway there - my mom decided the same, and we headed back to the car. I never cared about the petroglyphs, I just wanted to skip across rocks. It's a good day.

The last stop was the Kealo Sea Hole. (spelling). Really, this is just an excuse to drive the rest of the highway down to the coast, and watch the 12 foot waves smash against the cliffs where the lava ends at the sea. I love a good dramatic coastline and some violent waves, and this didn't disappoint. The sea-hole wasn't nearly as special as it's supposed to be, but as an excuse to admire the surf it served it's purpose well.

At this point, sage was done for the day. We blasted back up the highway, admiring the lavaflows that had come down the hills, checking out the distinct demarkation zones between the smooth and jagged lava fields, and stopping for one or two more craters (but very quickly, because Sage was done).  Adam was feeling better and wanted one last look at the big crater, so we headed back to the steam fields, and he and I jogged out to the crater lip to look over the steam vents at the massive crater. Not bad for two bros with covid.

Back home, we had a dinner, clearing out the rest of our groceries since we leave this island tomorrow. Which means it was scrambled eggs and wheat thins. Now, journal. Next, star pictures? We'll see.

Nevermind, it's raining.